#we could not stop laughing at nothing it was so dumb lol

[blugrlgroup]

I got way too fucking drunk last night but it was so fuckin fun

[redflannelsheets]

.

[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!

[specialgradefckr]

tw: explicit content. toxic frat culture/attitudes. non consensual recording.

fuckboy satoru gojo.

fuckboy satoru who's in a group chat with a bunch of other shitty fuckboys who all brag about their conquests.

one of them posts a sex tape, bragging about how he took the girl's virginity and filmed it without her knowing. it catches his attention - the girl is kind of cute.

you're kind of cute. the sounds you make, the way you look and act, and damn, your body has his pants tightening. he thinks he's seen you around before.

the boys in the chat have a good laugh about what a dumbass you are. he jerks off to the video and moves on with his life.

and that's the end of it - until he bumps into you.

and actually you're... really nice. you apologize even though it's not your fault, laughing it off, picking your things up. he helps you, which is out of character for him, but he feels kind of bad for you.

you carry these tiny little mochi candies with you, and offer him one for his help.

you call him pretty. when he gets close enough to hand you your things he gets a whiff of your conditioner or body wash or something and it smells good. something sweet.

satoru wonders what scent it was. he thinks about it and he finds himself pulling up the video again, jerking off.

is it just him, or did you not cum in the video? he always knew the prick that took it was a total fucking loser.

and that could have been the end of it. that should have been the end of it, only, he seems to keep running into you again. completely by accident (at first) but later... well, it's not like he's avoiding you.

because you give him candy. you call him "pretty boy" and it doesn't sound even a little bit mocking. you smile at him, fondly, like you're happy to see him. you're just... nice.

what a dumb bitch. can't believe i actually got away with that lololol

i know dude. crazy. are you still together?

fuck that, we were never "together". she keeps texting me lol. needy af

he's nice to you when he sees you! he starts paying you back for the candies. buys you treats. brings you coffees. he learns your order. your major. your likes and dislikes. (how did that fucking prick get to touch you? what the fuck did he tell you?)

so maybe he jerks off to the video again... a few more times. he gets angrier every time.

the piece of shit in chat keeps talking about how bad you were in bed. he didn't even get you off. what a fucking loser.

he tells himself it's a matter of pride. he's good in bed, it's pathetic that the dude is bragging about his garbage performance. it's not like he cares about you.

it's not like he walks with you to classes. texts you all the time. finds out what body wash you were using and buys you ten more of them.

when he threatens the piece of shit that fucked with you, it's because he's embarrassed to be associated with him.

nothing to do with how you've confided in him that you're having doubts about the guy you 'were involved with'.

nothing to do with the look on your face when you say it, and the way it makes him feel like he's being stabbed in the chest.

nothing to do with the way that he - he can't stop jerking off to that fucking video, he can't stop looking at you, wishing - but he feels so fucking bad about it -

okay, fine, WHATEVER. maybe fuckboy satoru is catching the first crush of his entire life...

and then he sees another video of you in the group chat.

[snowsinterlude]

kissing leaf. - c.s

(coriolanus snow x reader)

summary: due to pressure over your poor doll heart, being under the kissing leaf with coriolanus snow felt like the end of the world. even worse when your colleagues started cheering you both to kiss.

c.w: enemies to lovers (they're in denial lol), kissing, fluff, just a light hearted way to say merry christmas to you guys, bpth under pressure

celebrating christmas on the academy felt like a fever dream to you. seriously, who would want to spend such a special time inside an academy instead of your house, with your loved ones?

well, it seemed like the entire academy did.

you were helping with all the ornaments, putting the star on top of the tree woth the help of sejanus and festus, never once stopping to talk to the platinum blonde boy that already collided on you three times. you didn't even stop on your tracks to tell him to look where he's going, you didn’t want to ruin your christmas with cat fights with him.

"snow!" you heard clementia call, and he turned to look at her, making your face meet his chest and almost fall, haven't it been his desperate hold on your waist. you could see clementia and the others smiling as they saw your hands holding his shoulders, which only made you get away from him. "no no, y.n. stay there." and you obeyed, like a pathetic dog.

"what are you doing?" you asked, looking at her devilish smile.

"a prank." she chuckled, pointing at the top of your heads. coriolanus was the first to see, but he kept himself calm, you, on the other hand, panicked as you tried to go away, which didn't work as everyone was surrounding you and pulling you back to under the kissing leaf.

"that's childish. i'm not gonna kiss her." he said, not bothering to look at him. you didn't know that he was as desperate as you. "there's not a single reason for you guys to do that with us."

"ah, there is, actually." arachne pronounced herself, arms crossed and a big smile on her lips. "we're tired of your cat fights. there's nothing better to restart between you both than with a kiss."

"no, i don't- we don't wanna do that." you said. he turned to you, brow arched.

"you don't?" he asked.

"ooh, so he does want it!" festus teased.

"no i don't!" he said, looking at him. you felt anxious once everybody started to scream, cheering you both to kiss. you panicked even more, pulling him by the new tie he wore and slamming your lips against his, for his surprise. and for yours, he kissed you back.

🎀.

"hey" he called, finding you on the library. you felt absolutely humiliated, god, what have you done? you just gave everybody a reason to joke with your face and say you were actually in love with him.

"what do you want?..." you asked, not looking at him even if he sat by your side. "haven't we been humiliated enough? do you want to give them more reasons?"

"god, stop being so dumb." he said, rolling his eyes and sighing

"what do you mean by that? i'm not dumb. i am second place to you on classes but-" he shut you up, his hands grabbing your shoulders when you finally looked at him and you spend at least 5 seconds blinking during the kiss he gave you, shutting them close when the kiss deepened.

oh. that's what he meant when he called you dumb. you didn't notice how he was always laughing when you both would debate- it wasn't a way to call you dumb. but more as in-

"i like you." he said, finally.

oh.

"i..." you blinked rapidly. wasn't it too quick? ah, it wasn't. you both spent three years on this already. "i like you too."

[merrybloomwrites]

A Podcast Love Story

Summary: The story of Shayne & Y/N, as told through a series of podcasts

AN: This story was inspired by a request from someone that tumblr isn't letting me tag, so that's dumb lol

Also, I tried to follow the actual timeline of when these podcasts were posted but I did take some creative liberty, so some things might not match up with when the were really posted irl

Wordcount: 3.4K

CW: very light mention of smut, talk about pregnancy

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

SmoshCast #75 – How Shayne and Courtney Feel About Being Shipped Together

Dating someone who’s in the public eye was not entirely unexpected. You live in Los Angeles after all. When you and Shayne started dating in 2019 you decided to keep it a secret for a while. Neither of you were ready to share your relationship with the Smosh viewers yet.

This became more difficult when you decided to quarantine together in 2020 during the pandemic. Two weeks after he returned from Australia, when you were sure that neither of you had Covid, you packed your necessities and headed to Shayne’s. It was nice being together, but it did get complicated when he needed to film videos.

Sometimes you would go for a walk while he was filming. Other times you would hide in the other room. He’d triple check all his footage before submitting it to make sure you, and any of your belongings, weren’t in frame.

One day, a few months in, he and Courtney are recording an episode of the SmoshCast. He sets up at the small dining table in the corner of the living room. You’re on the couch, meaning you can’t be seen on the camera, but you are in Shayne’s view. It might not have been the smartest decision since you’re now stuck there for the entire time they record, but you have a book and a snack, so you get cozy.

You can only hear Shayne’s side of the conversation, so you’re not fully paying attention. That is, until you hear Shayne say, “If we so much as say hi to each other, Shartney fans poop themselves.” The mention of this ship between him and his castmate has you more focused on the conversation. Not because you’re jealous, because that would be ridiculous, but because all of you find it quite funny how hard the two of them are shipped.

He can’t stop looking over to you for the entire ten-minute segment. It’s subtle, but there’s definitely a connection between the two of you. It’s obvious that he’s reassuring you that there’s nothing to worry about. You especially like when he says, “You can ship me with anything. Ship me with bananas.” And you nearly lose it when he says, “I am begging you, please, make a ship edit of me and Kathy Bates.”

They continue to talk and the conversation steers towards how fans make assumptions based on what they see in videos. Shayne brings up how people were concerned about him for a few weeks at the beginning of quarantine. He starts to explain, “I was very quiet in those early podcasts, but the reason was, one, I was not getting enough sleep. I kept staying up late,” here he looks at you before quickly saying, “playing video games.” You again struggle to keep quiet, knowing that was not the truth. Unless “playing video games” has now become code for “having intimate moments with my girlfriend”.

He continues to talk about how his setup for recording was less than ideal and finishes by saying, “I wasn’t sad at all, I was actually having great days.” Again, you share a quick look, showing that you agree with him about how wonderful it’s been since you started living together.

They wrap up the podcast a little while later and Shayne is officially done with work for the day.

“Playing video games, huh?” you say teasingly.

“Oh yea, totally a pro gamer now,” he replies.

“You think so?” you say with a laugh.

“I mean, I could always use more practice,” he answers as he lifts you from the couch, carrying you to the bedroom.

SmoshCast #85 – American Horror Story: Adulting

A few months later and things are looking better in the world. This means a return to the office for everyone. You’d landed a job at Smosh, working in post-production, so now you and Shayne work together. You were nervous about being around each other all the time, but luckily there’s still a fair amount of the day when you’re apart. Shayne is often filming or in meetings or busy writing, and you spend most of the time at your desk working on the next video.

But sometimes, you get a break to see him. Shayne, Damien, and Coutney are filming a new SmoshCast episode, and you sneak in to watch from the back. The theme is “Adulting”, and they somehow start by talking about how they interact with the younger generation. You can’t help but smile as Shayne talks about his niece, endeared by the relationship he has with her. He also mentions grandchildren, which makes your imagination run away thinking about your future together.

You stay for a little while and just watch your boyfriend. He’s not saying anything crazy, or doing anything special, but you love listening to him give advice. You also love how attentive he is to his friends, how closely he listens to everything they say. When you do go back to your desk you take a moment to think about how lucky you are that this man, with a solid head on his shoulders and more emotional maturity than you’ve ever seen before, is your other half.

Smosh Mouth #5 – Shayne and Y/N Share Their Love Story

“Welcome back to Smosh Mouth, I’m Shayne.”

“And I’m Amanda.”

“And today we have a very special guest. We have my lovely wife, Y/N Topp,” Shayne says, smiling at you as he finished the introduction.

“Hello everyone,” you say into the microphone.

It’s weird being in front of the camera. It’s only happened a few times in the years that you’ve been with Shayne. Even though you also work at Smosh, you’re always behind the scenes. You’ve only really been in videos that highlight the crew, so the focus has rarely been on you.

But today you’re finally sitting down to do a podcast for the channel. They’d just revived the podcast after a nearly three-year hiatus.

So much has happened in your personal life since then. At the time that SmoshCast was airing, your relationship with Shayne was fairly new, and you weren’t ready to share it yet. Within a year of that last episode going live, you two had gotten engaged. This led to you guys getting married, and as of 22 weeks ago, you being pregnant with your first child.

“Well, I for one am very excited to have you here today,” Amanda says. “I cannot wait to grill you on every last detail of your relationship.” You all laugh at that, knowing that while you’re sharing more personal information than you ever have before, no one is going to push you or Shayne too much.

“So,” Amanda continues. “Tell me, how did you meet?”

You look to Shayne, encouraging him to start the story.

“We met in 2019,” he begins. “Someone had recommended a book to me, so I was at the library to pick it up. While I was looking through the shelf Y/N came over and started looking through the section as well. We kind of started at opposite ends and moved to meet in the middle. Turns out we were both looking for the same book.”

“No you were not!” Amanda interjects.

“We really were,” you say to confirm. “We basically have the most cliché meet-cute story.”

“Ya, no kidding! So, what happened next?” she asks.

“Well, I had picked up the book first and noticed Y/N glance at it. So we started talking and I told her she should take the book first and I’d read it when she’s done.”

“And then he very smoothly said he could give me his number so I could tell him when I was returning the book,” you add.

“Look at you,” Amanda says. “Making the bold moves.”

“I had to give it a try,” Shayne says with a laugh.

“And it worked. I texted him a couple weeks later, the day before I returned the book.”

“I didn’t have her number,” Shayne says. “And I was kicking myself for not getting it because waiting to hear from her was pretty torturous I’m not gonna lie. So as soon as she texted about the book I asked her on a date.”

“Which actually shocked me at first. I really though he only was interested in the book.”

“Did you know who he was?” Amanda asks. “Like, had you watched Smosh or seen him on TV before you met?”

“I did know who he was. I had just started watching Smosh, so I recognized him but really didn’t know much about him.”

“Did you start watching old videos and try to get to know more about him after you met? Or after he asked you out?”

“I tried not to. I wanted to get to know him naturally, not through videos online. But there was a video posted after he asked me out but before our date called ‘Why We’re Bad at Dating’ and I couldn’t resist. And I truly think it helped us hit it off on that first date.”

“How so?” Amanda inquires.

Shayne takes that question, saying, “In the episode I talked about what I do on dates that kind of lead to there not being a second date. And Y/N/N called me out on that.”

You chime in, adding, “He said he puts on a ‘CW�� version of himself. I told him not to do that. And I admitted to being just as anxious about the date as he was so we should just forget the pressure and hang out and get to know each other.”

“Well, that’s adorable,” Amanda says. “So obviously you started dating and kept dating. When did you take the next step?”

Shayne takes this question and says, “I asked her to be my girlfriend a couple months later. And then we moved in together shortly after the start of the pandemic. Which was slightly challenging when it came to filming at home for Smosh since we wanted to keep the relationship a secret for a while.”

“Yea, how in the world did you make that work?”

“We were very, very careful,” you say. “I definitely hid in the bathroom more than once to stay out of frame.” At this you all laugh, and you add, “Totally worth it, though.”

“Ok, next juicy question. Shayne, how did you propose?”

“So, I hired a sky writer,” he says before laughing and continuing, “No, just kidding. We’d been dating for a year and a half, living together for almost a year at the time. We rented a cabin in Colorado for a few days and on the second day we went on a hike. Packed a picnic, did the whole thing. And I uh, I proposed at the top of the mountain.”

“You guys are literally a romcom,” Amanda quips.

“Would a romcom do a hike proposal? I feel like they’re always at fancy restaurant or the beach. Or like, yelling ‘Will you marry me?’ As the girl walks away down a street in the pouring rain,” you say.

“Oh, a hike proposal is very Lifetime or Hallmark.”

“Good point, it’s totally been in at least one of those movies.”

“Did you like that it was on a hike?” Amanda asks.

“Yea, Y/N/N, did you like it?” Shayne says, pretending to be truly concerned and worried about your answer.

“Hated it,” you say jokingly. “No, honestly, I loved it. Shayne and I always bonded over how much we love nature, so it was perfect for us. I can’t imagine it being any other way. I know a lot of girls want to make sure their nails are done so they get that perfect ring picture, which totally fine, not judging at all. But it definitely felt right that I literally had dirt under my nails and scrapes on my palms from slipping up the hill. Much more authentic that way.”

“And the wedding, anything you want to share about it?” Amanda asks.

“We actually got married in New Mexico,” you say. “It was the central spot for both our families. It was last April, so, beautiful weather during the day. And we lucked out that the temperature didn’t drop too much at night.”

“Very nice,” Amanda replies. “Shayne, anything to add?”

“We kept it pretty small, just family, and close friends. I feel like it was a very typical wedding, but it was ours, you know? So, it was special.” Shayne blushes and you know that your wedding day means more to him than he’s letting on. And that’s fine with you. It was a private event, and even though you’re sharing your relationship now, neither of you want to give away too much about your wedding.

“Aw, he’s getting red,” Amanda jokes. “Did you go on a honeymoon?”

“We did. We went to Hawaii. Neither of us had been before so we knew it would be special for us. We wanted to experience something new together,” you answer.

“Cute!” she replies. “Now, dedicated fans know you guys are together, know you’re married and all that. But there is some news you two have to share that no one knows, is that correct?”

“That’s right,” Shayne says. He looks at you, silently asking if you want to say it. But you can tell he’s bursting to tell everyone, so you give him a nod to continue.

“Y/N and I are having a baby,” he says.

“Hell yea you are! Smosh baby!” Amanda cheers. “Congratulations to you both! Y/N, how are you feeling?”

“Pretty good right now. I’m in the second trimester so my morning sickness is mostly gone, thank god. We’re very excited, got some classes we’re planning to take and we’re reading all the books so I’m sure we will still be extremely unprepared,” you say with a laugh.

“If there’s anyone I trust to figure it out and be great parents, it’s the two of you,” Amanda replies earnestly.

“Thank you, Amanda,” Shayne says.

The podcast continues with Amanda continuing to ask questions and you and Shayne sharing more stories about your time together.

You wrap up recording by mid-afternoon. You have an appointment with your doctor scheduled and since it’s so close to the end of the day, Shayne was also given time off to join you. Everything goes well and as he drives you both home you can’t help but be grateful that the two of you were brought together.

Smosh Reads Reddit Stories: Office Nightmares

It’s been a month and a half since recording your episode of SmoshMouth, and three weeks since it aired. The news that you and Shayne are expecting a baby spread faster than anything you’d experienced before. You’d both received messages of congratulations from more people than you had ever expected: from Smosh fans to Disney fans, and even Goldbergs fans. You never imagined the amount of support you’d receive.

You had the morning off for yet another checkup with your doctor. You get back to the office early, but technically you’re still scheduled to be off, so you opt to sit in as they record the next Reddit Story video/podcast. It’s one of your favorite series currently, and you love listening to Shayne read all the stories.

He begins the third story, reading the title, “Am I the asshole for telling my wife that I’m not taking off of work to be present at our daughters’ birth?”

They joke around for a bit, and then he dives into the story, reading how the man explains that he couldn’t take off work cause there’s a project and they need him there. The wife finds out that’s a lie, and it mad that he didn’t take time off. He says he wants to work more so they’d have more money after the birth, and that the baby wouldn’t even remember him being there. He finishes by saying he doesn’t know why it’s such a big deal to be there at the birth, and even blames the wife’s hormones for her being upset about it.

Shayne, along with Spencer and Tommy begin to share their thoughts on the story. You smile and nod as Shayne makes the point of, “He keeps saying the baby’s not gonna remember, but you’re fucking wife will!”

They even give reasons why they’d understand him not being there, with Tommy saying, “If they were really desperate for cash then I’d get it,” and Spencer saying he’d understand if he were terrified of being around childbirth.

The boys then look over to you and Spencer says, “Y/N, you’re pregnant, how do you feel about this story?”

“Yea,” Tommy adds, “would you kill Shayne if he did this?”

“Oh, for sure!” you call out.

“C’mere,” Shayne says. “You’re probably the one most qualified to give an opinion here.”

You look to Kiana who’s directing the video and she gives you a nod, so you walk onto the set and stand behind Shayne, leaning down so your face is next to his and your voice will get picked up on his microphone.

“What are you’re thoughts on this?” Tommy asks.

“You guys definitely made a lot of great points. I mean, childbirth is terrifying, and I keep trying to ignore the fact that I do have to actually, you know, birth a human. But I know that Shayne will be there and is studying to be the best support person. I mean, he’s read enough books about it, I think he could deliver the baby himself if necessary,” you say with a laugh.

“I will add, if this was the father of my child, I’d wonder what he actually deems important. Because this is arguably one of the biggest days of everyone’s life. First of all, it should be important to him. It’s literally his child entering the world. It’s a privilege to be one of the first people that baby will ever meet. And then, what will be a big enough deal for him to take off work in the future? Baby’s not gonna remember her first birthday, is he gonna go to that? She has a dance recital at three years old, is he going to think that’s silly and not go?”

“Oh, I didn’t think of that, but it makes sense,” Spencer replies. “He definitely seems to have his priorities and being there for his family isn’t one.”

“I truly cannot imagine not being there when our kid is born,” Shayne says. “My worst fear would be if something kept me from being there.”

“Because you’re a good person,” Tommy says bluntly, and everyone laughs.

You head back off camera as they continue on.

After a few more stories Shayne begins another entry, titled, “And I the asshole for eating the last doughnut before my pregnant coworker could have one?” He looks at you once he reads it and laughs before saying, “Y/N’s face says, yes absolutely you are.”

He reads the story which explains that the young employee ate his allotted two doughnuts, and when the pregnant coworker didn’t show up after half an hour, he ate her two as well. She gets there shortly after and explains she had car trouble and is upset to see everyone had a treat but didn’t save her any. Later, the boss pulls aside the employee to tell him he’d been rude to his coworker.

After he finishes the post the boys discuss the etiquette of eating communal snacks in the office before Shayne says, “Also, if there is one thing I know, it’s that you never mess with a pregnant woman’s food unless you want to die.” You laugh so loudly at this that you know for sure the mics picked it up from across the room.

“Y/N, anything to add?” Spencer says.

You walk over again and state, “Listen, all I’m say is that I’m mad you guys are just talking about doughnuts when we don’t have any. Cause cravings are a bitch and now I am literally not going to stop thinking about doughnuts until I get one.”

After moving offscreen you realize you need to pee, again, so you leave the studio to head to the bathroom. Once you’re out of the room Shayne says, “Hey Kiana, can I have my phone a second?”

“Why do you need your phone?” Spencer asks.

“I gotta doordash some doughnuts.”

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

AN: Thanks for reading! Let me know if you have any requests for Shayne stories!

Taglist: @american-girl001 @tatumrileyslover @queenofcaradelle @1nkm0nster

[paradiseismine]

hi! Can I ask for a smut? For miles Fairchild? I know you’re probably busy! This is like my first time requesting something so… anyway I was wondering like we disobey miles and he is now going to punish us? So like obviously he’s going to tie us up because he’s well miles. And idk I just like dark shit and stuff, but like whatever you want to write because it’s going to be great! I’m sorry for asking but like I’m Miles Fairchild deprived….

Misbehaving - Miles Fairchild x reader

Pairing: Miles Fairchild (The Turning) x f!reader

Warnings: smut, degradation, shibari, sub punishment, spanking, overstimulation, I could keep going lol

Love note from Nina: ok, this is actually the cutest request ever. Thank you so much darling, I hope you enjoy this fic 🎀 requests make me sooo happy, y’all have no idea. send me as many as you wish 💌

Being Miles’ girlfriend for almost a year now, you’d already understood how things worked with him. He would, as any other boyfriend, want nothing but cuddles and gentle affection sometimes - but that was quite rare, and certainly not the case lately. The master and sub dynamic you had with him extended out of the bedroom and bled into your daily lives, so even without him around, there were still certain rules you were required to follow.

You weren’t allowed, for instance, to wear short skirts/dresses when you weren’t with him or going to meet him; you couldn’t talk to any other boys or men unless it was mandatory (like a teacher or a doctor); and you absolutely, positively, could not touch yourself without his permission. Those were the three major rules you had agreed to follow when you two started dating.

Today, however, you were feeling particularly naughty and decided to ignore the rules - you were wearing a tight dress, so short you had to pull it down as you walked, weren’t wearing anything underneath it and had masturbated all morning, as Miles was out helping Flora with some school project. To top it off, an ice cream truck was driving next to the manor really slow. You got up from your seat at the entrance and waved at him from afar, signaling for him to stop.

You bought yourself a vanilla ice cream cone, and kept chatting with the ice cream guy as you licked the ice cream teasingly, letting the white cream melt all around your lips and drip down your chin. He laughed at all of your jokes and seemed instantly attracted to you - no wonder, you were a knockout. The ice cream truck had to keep moving, so your admirer bid you goodbye.

Soon enough, though, a big car approached the manor: Miles and Flora were back, and Miles had seen just enough of you twirling your hair around your finger and blinking your long eyelashes at the man.

You rushed in their direction, as Miles whispered something to Flora and she ran through the door, calling for Kate, her babysitter. You greeted Miles with a kiss, and he felt the coldness of the ice cream on his lips as he balled up his fists and rolled his eyes in anger.

“Are you ok, my love?” you said in your most naïve-sounding voice.

“Oh, I will be” he uttered, visibly pissed. “Let’s enter and talk, please” he gestured towards the door.

Up in his room, the tone of the conversation was to be expected. Miles shut the door loudly as you sat on the bed, still pretending you didn’t understand why he seemed so upset.

“So, what is it that you wanted to talk about, Miles, baby?”

He approached you with firm steps, lowering his body to look at you in the eyes. “I’m pretty sure you know that that’s not my name now” he licked his lips. “And I’m also pretty sure you know what you did, don’t you, slut?”

“What do you mean?” you blinked innocently. You were in for a treat now.

“Stop playing dumb” he nearly yelled, flipping you over on his lap and pulling up your dress. “You know pretty damn well what you…” his voice dropped.

Miles had just noticed you weren’t wearing any panties. In disbelief, he spread your legs slightly, fingers examining your needy cunt.

“Did you touch yourself today?” He asked, eyes carefully studying the slick arousal in between his long fingers. “Without my permission?”

“Master, it-it was j-just once” you stuttered as he dipped his fingers back into your drenched slit.

“This is not the behavior I expect of you, my love…” Miles interrupted as he shook his head in disapproval, eyes seeming darker and crueler than you could even process. “Disobeying three rules at once… I guess you’re gonna have to be punished now, won’t you?”

“M-master, I-“ you stuttered, your voice cracking.

“I don’t wanna hear about it. Rules are rules. If you disobey the rules, you get punished. It’s as simple as that, so even a stupid cum dumpster like you can understand it…”

Without another word, Miles opened up a drawer on his bedside table and pulled out a long piece of rope from there. You gasped, not resisting in the slightest as he made you stand up and undress, then pulled the rope around your wrists and around your whole upper body, your waist and breasts now tied up as well. He threw the rope at the ceiling, using a small hook he had installed a few months ago. In a minute, you were hanging from the ceiling, struggling to move your arms and legs to try and free yourself.

“Don’t you fucking move” he uttered as he grabbed your neck, in a near-whispering voice that made you shiver.

Miles left you alone and all tied up for a moment, before returning with a small wooden chest. It’s where he kept the tools for “playtime”, as he’d call it. He placed it on the floor and took something out of it, but you couldn’t bring yourself to look back at him… Until his husky voice broke the silence.

“If you wish to act like a dirty slut, I might as well have to treat you like one, right?” he grinned like the devil, lightly tapping his own hand with a riding whip as he stepped closer to you.

Using the same kind of tool he’d use on the horses from the manor’s stable on you was pretty much the standard for Miles. You had disobeyed him, so now he’d have to tame you - just like he’d do with an animal.

“Your punishment, my filthy little whore” he grabbed your chin with his ice cold fingers, forcing you to look at him in the eyes as he spoke. “Will be segmented in three parts, corresponding to the three rules you broke today.” he let go of your chin abruptly, his left hand going downwards. “Can you tell me what was the first rule?” he asked, his voice firm and raspy as he spread your legs and felt how soaking wet you already were, before letting out a small chuckle.

You moaned as his fingers touched your wetness, squirming softly for more contact. Miles withdrew his hand swiftly, and before you could open your mouth to protest, the riding whip hit your ass with a loud smacking sound.

You whimpered in pain, your eyes shutting close as your face contorted and your ass slowly turned a light shade of pink, the stinging sensation numbing your skin.

“I asked you a question” he tucked the tip of the whip under your chin, making you lift your face up again. “What was the first rule you broke?”

“I-I wore short clothes unaccompanied” you were able to respond. “And didn’t wear panties underneath”

“That’s right” he agreed, his tone still deep and husky. “I don’t even know in what whorehouse you bought that ridiculous dress” he pointed at the garment discarded on the floor. “But I never want to see that shit again, did you hear me?”

“Yes…” you moaned. Hearing him speak in that tone made your pussy flutter.

The riding whip hit your ass again, just as hard as the last time.

“Yes WHAT?” he asked.

“Yes sir, I understand” you nodded.

“Good.” He spanked you again and again, alternating between your butt cheeks, so they’d both look equally as pink and abused.

You moaned with each snap of his whip, your thighs sticking together with arousal, your head dizzy with lust.

“You wanted to show off this whoreish cunt to some stranger on the street, didn’t you? Eating ice cream like a stupid bitch, drooling all over your mouth” he broke the silence again, jealousy audible in his voice.

“Time for the second part of your punishment” he stated, setting the whip aside and slowly untying the knot that made you hang from the ceiling.

You were on your feet now, but not for long - Miles forced you to kneel, lowered his pants and shoved his cock down your throat in a second.

“Now, suck it real good, put it all in your mouth” he said, hands on your hair as you gagged on his length. “If your mouth can flirt with that scumbag like a filthy whore, I’m sure it can suck cock like one as well.”

You could barely breathe as he kept fucking your throat mercilessly, moaning at the feeling. “Ah, yes… That’s all you’re good for, isn’t it? Just a set of sticky holes for your Master to cum in”

You nodded, your eyes watering from taking his cock so far down your throat.

“I didn’t hear you, slut” he pulled your mouth off his cock. “Use your words”

“Yes, master” you moaned, resisting the urge to touch your dripping pussy. “I’m just a little slut you use for your pleasure… You can cum on me or in me as much as you want”

“Of course I can” he laughed. “Now, maybe I should start the third part of your punishment”

You looked up at him with pleading eyes, wishing that he’d at least make you cum once. He seemed to read your mind as he spoke again.

“You’re such a perverted slut you can’t even keep your hands off of your cunt for a single day, now, can you? You needed to cum so bad, didn’t you? Well, now you’re going to cum until you beg me to stop” he spat. “And even when you beg me to stop, I won’t” he chuckled devilishly. “I’ll stop when I want to, or when I fill you up to the brim with my cum”

Miles pushed you up and threw you on the bed, so you were laid flat on your back. He reached for the wooden chest again, pulling out a small vibrator this time. He spread your legs carelessly and buried his thick length inside you all at once. Normally, his girth would require a bit more effort to slither into your core, but as soaking wet as you were, it all entered pretty smoothly and painlessly.

“A-are you gonna dump your cum inside my pussy, sir?” You whimpered, legs shaking already. He laughed.

“Of course I will, you’re a whore, that’s all you’re good for” he said, grabbing your jaw as he spoke. “And you better like it”

“I-I’ll love it, sir” you replied, mouth opening slightly. He felt so good inside you. His thick cock would always hit the perfect spot inside you, every time he thrusted. Soon enough, you could hear the vibrator buzz - it was a clit sucker, and Miles managed to place it perfectly onto your little bundle of nerves.

You moaned and quivered as he thrusted into your cunt in a feral way, the vibrator bringing you closer to the edge, your vision blurry and your limbs tingling, as the first orgasm finally ripped through your body so violently it nearly knocked you out.

“Such a good cunt” he groaned, as your drenched pussy convulsed around his throbbing erection. “Squeezing me like that… Let’s see it again”

He kept the vibrator in place and increased the vibration level with the push of a button. His thrusts were still strong and vigorous, making your eyes roll and your mouth gape, faint moans escaping your lips.

You soon came again, harder than before, splashing his navel with a squirting orgasm as you screamed his name.

“Shut up” he slapped your face lightly, his dark eyes wider than usual. “Flora will hear you. Keep cumming on my cock with your mouth shut”

He kept increasing the vibration level with each orgasm of yours, and you kept cumming, desperate for his cock. Miles’ hips and belly were coated with your juices. He intended to punish you with overstimulation, but had no idea how needy you were since that morning.

You had gotten to what was the most intense vibration level on the toy, and Miles was incredulous at how wet and horny you still were. Not a single cry, not begging him to stop… How could you still be so eager for more?

“You’re insatiable, aren’t you?” He chuckled, grabbing your thighs harshly as he fucked your sopping cunt. “You can’t get enough of taking my cock, it’s like you’re addicted to cumming for me”

“You know I am” you answered, your eyes low with lust. “Now, please” you sighed in pleasure, “please make me cum one last time, and spill that delicious cum all inside my pussy, master”

Miles picked up the pace with his thrusts, now making your entire body shake, your boobs bouncing and his fingernails leaving small indents on your waist. You closed your eyes, your clit being relentlessly sucked by the toy, Miles’ sweat dripping onto your belly, and with a deeper breath, you came.

Your body went limp and your vision turned white as your back arched involuntarily, a muffled moan of relief rolling off your lips as you tried to prevent anyone else from hearing such lewd sounds. He felt your insides squeezing his length harder than ever, and the knot in his navel finally unraveled - his warm seed spilling into your insides, claiming your body as his.

“Thank you, master” you sighed as Miles turned off the vibrator and set it aside. “Thank you so much”

“You’re welcome, little one” he smiled, relieved, as he gently removed himself from your tight slit. “Now, if I ever see you talking to that ice cream guy again…”

[phntxm]

If you go on a blind date

} fem! reader, muzan in 3rd year high school, he have a crush on you but won't let you know (ofc), mean muzan, jealous muzan, reader's action a bit dumb(it's for the scenarios, I don't like it too lol), might have part 2 a/n; why I change my format every post lmao, not a long post ig / quick writing work

" what did you just say? " muzan stopped abruptly while packing his own belongings into his bag after hearing that you were going on a blind date

" I will be going on a blind date! " you repeated.

"... so instead of tutoring today, you're just going to waste your time on a blind date?" he asked with a mixture of disappointment and frustration. today, you and he have tutoring after school. in fact, all week, you have been having tutoring classes together after school, but muzan chose to tutor alone as he found the tutoring class did not meet his expectations, so you two will be tutoring together

" c’mon it’s not like I would be on a date everyday, it’s just one day " you say " and also this is not my idea in the first place, I just go with my friends because they want it to be in couple number " you added 

" and why won’t they just take someone else, it’s not like you’re the only student here " he replies

" yeah, and why won’t you let me, it’s not like we have tutoring only one day " you tried using the same reasons from him, sometimes we should have some fun, being with him was so boring, focus on studying isn't bad but he's way too boring

" you really want to go that badly?" he asked, noticing your excitement as you nodded eagerly

" tch, just don’t get too carried away," he said, his reluctance evident in his tone as he reluctantly agreed to let you go

after the blind date, you and the guy went on a few more dates as you liked each other. now, you skip tutoring with muzan more often, and of course, he did not take that well

he's so grumpy; everything and everyone in his sight is just... not right

the day after, he asked about your blind date in a nonchalant way, but deep down, he's so fvcking curious

he wants to know every detail: where you went, what you talked about. oh, you might have even laughed at a stupid joke because you're like that—smiling and laughing with strangers like an idiot

but the most important thing he wants to know is who the guy you went on a date with is

he tried to make you stay with him after school by saying things like the exam would be so hard, you have to stay for tutoring with him. If he takes you to his house for tutoring, he would finish very late just to have his personal driver take you home before bedtime

if your date went well;

not letting muzan meet him would be the best

muzan will try to win your heart

eell, muzan doesn't see it as 'stealing' you back because you're his, all for him. you guys are not even in a serious relationship. one day, you will be back for him. right now, you are seeing someone else. It's not stealing because you never belonged to anyone else

first, he would blame the guy you are dating, bad-mouth him, then blame all men. 'all men are like this, you can't trust any of them' he blames you, he blames everyone except himself. all of this just for you to stop seeing anyone

he doesn't like worthless methods, nor methods that would affect him or you

like spreading bad rumors: if it would affect you by making you look bad for dating that guy, he might put it last on his list. but it doesn't mean that he won't use it, because he could be the one who consoles your heart from whatever bad happened to you (that's because of him)

if your date went bad; he might go around dating with other girl, breaks your heart etc.

oh, as it should

he would bad-mouth the guy even though he knows nothing about him

now, the tutoring with him will be stricter. he will make sure you're performing well in your exams so that he can claim it's because of his tutoring that you're improving

if you're thinking about going on a date with another guy or seeing anyone...

no, you can't

he would remind you every time about your bad date, even though it was your first and only time doing it, to make sure you won't go anywhere

" don't you remember that damn date that had you depressed for a week?! "

" I know I was wrong for that. This time, I think this guy might be okay "

" so once is not enough, you want to embarrass yourself for a second time? Are you really that stupid? "

he tried, he tried so hard to be the only guy you want

he would suggest that you tutor in a place other than at school or his house, such as a café or any coffee shop you prefer, but without making it seem like an 'obvious date'

[catwhispers0]

✧༝┉˚*❋ Silly Pickup Lines ❋*˚┉༝✧

Featuring - 

Cyno, Al Haitham, Tighnari, Kaveh, Zhongli, Xiao, Scaramouche, Neuvillette, Wriothesley

gn reader - pronouns: you/your

Tw and authors note - might be a lil suggestive for some lines, i dont play genshin 😭😭 so if any of the characters are kinda goofy its cause im too poor for that game, ooc, bad grammar 😬 VERY LIGHTLY EDITED, annoying reader lol

minors shoo shoo as always

✧༝┉˚*❋ Cyno ❋*˚┉༝✧

“do you believe in love at first sight, or should i walk by again?”

finally, its my time to shine

“do you have a bandaid? because i scraped my knee falling for you.”

“are you a time traveler? because i see you in my future.”

“if we were socks, we would make a great pair.”

if anyone were nearby, they would be gone now. you would surely attract a crowd of people who appreciated the little pickup line competition more, if you werent in the middle of a library. 

“are you a loan? because youve got my interest.”

“if you were a vegetable, youd be a cute-cumber.”

that was the breaking point of the poor librarian, who hoped you two would just stop on your own. but nothing could stop you before you could fluster cyno, and he could go all day and night before he would fluster you. 

so, yea, yall got kicked out of the library, but at what cost? honestly, yall never stopped throwing terrible pickups at each other, much to the pain and disappointment of anyone around you (cough tighnari cough).

but depending on your strength against cynos charms, you may last either forever, or give cyno a new hobby of flustering you whenever and wherever he could.

✧༝┉˚*❋ Al Haitham ❋*˚┉༝✧

“do you have a name, or can i just call you mine?”

Al haitham just looked up from his book, confused. 

“i have a name, did you really forget it?”

well this was odd, he thought you were smarter than this. forgetting his name, really?? of all the things you could forget, his name was one of the most, no, THE most offensive one. 

maybe you tripped and hit your head on the way in. he didnt think you were the smartest person in sumeru, but surely you werent stupid enough to forget the scribes name. 

“no, i know your name, but can i call you mine?”

he somehow found a way to look even more confused. ‘can i call you mine’ who is ‘mine’?? oh. wait. mine!! 

by the time he finally realized, you walked away with a cheeky grin. he was left in the dust, flustered. and to think he thought you were dumb. 

now, how was he going to work for the rest of the day?

✧༝┉˚*❋ Tighnari ❋*˚┉༝✧

“arent you tired of running through my mind all day?”

he put his head in his hands in defeat, dropping the papers he was working on. with his ears flat against his head, he groaned. 

“...are you ok nari?” 

“no.”

“...”

after a moment, he looked up at you. he had a disappointed, dead-panned expression. his ears were still flat and he just stared at you, ridiculing you in awkward silence. 

he thought he would only have to deal with one idiot in a life time. why were you so..? annoying? no, thats not it. alluring? maybe… he didnt understand how through all of the shenanigans you pull him through, all the terrible jokes and one liners, youve sill managed to capture his heart and let him keep you around. so yea, alluring.

“... do you wanna hear another one?”

*sigh* “sure, but only if its good.”

his reluctance was apparent in his voice, but the agreement was a good sign. 

you gave it a beat of time to dig through your head for a clever one that would sweep tighnari off his feet. 

“i think i need to see an optometrist, because i cant keep my eyes off of you~.”

“...”

“...” “get out.”

“...ok”

✧༝┉˚*❋ Kaveh ❋*˚┉༝✧

“i must be in a museum, because youre a work of art.”

The architect nearly chokes on his drink and spits it out. you scramble to help him out of concern though there was little you could do in the first place. 

so pat him on the back awkwardly as he endeavors his coughing fit. sometime through the hacking, you notice it has shifted to laughter. 

“what are you laughing about?? are you ok??”

“-yea, im fine, you are just too cute! you caught me off guard.” 

with this, he picked you cheek adoringly. you gave him an incredulous look, this man really choked on his drink and now he demeans you? absolutely not. 

you turn on your heel and walk away after giving him a look of a mix of disappointment and exasperation. 

he follows quickly after to try and pester you for the rest of the day on ‘how adorable you are’.

✧༝┉˚*❋ Zhongli ❋*˚┉༝✧

“are you a geo user, because you rock my world! *wink*”

a small smile and a giggle does little to hide his growing flush. he looks away for a moment, letting your words settle in the air. 

why did you have to be so cute? and you look at him expectantly - waiting for a reaction. you didnt think he would fall that easily, hm?

-though, he does appreciate a challenge. 

sure, hes heard plenty of one-liners in his time, most when and about his dragon or archon forms. but he didnt expect you to exchange one with him, he doesnt know what to do or how to feel. 

“you are something, my dear. are you hungry? its about time for my lunch break, i thought you wouldnt mind the offer, seeing as you seem to want to sweep me away so badly.”

“something?” 

what was that supposed to mean? a good something or a bad something? his reaction did little to answer, but you took him up on his offer. maybe tomorrow you would get him. 

gotta keep that old man on his toes afterall. 

✧༝┉˚*❋ Xiao ❋*˚┉༝✧

“are you an adeptus, because youve reached a depth of my heart.”

at first, Xiao thought it was some adepti pun, but as the day went on, he wasnt so sure. 

it had become such an issue, the yaksha had began pacing around with his finger to his chin and a furrowed brow. 

he was overthinking it, he knew that, but he needed to know what it meant to be in a “depth of your heart”. did you mean it as friendly dialogue? or was there something more…? 

was this a sign? a hint? a clue? a puzzle? he didnt know. how could you do this to him, what is he supposed to make of this?

could you have put him in a depth of your heart that noone else was? Perhaps it was wishful thinking. archons, why were mortals so complicated?! 

by the time he had worked himself up to confront you about the issue that plagued his heart, the sun set and the stars had risen. 

‘maybe tomorrow then, ill let you rest for now.’ he thought as he watched you sleep peacefully, protected. 

✧༝┉˚*❋ Scaramouche ❋*˚┉༝✧

“im not a photographer, but i can picture us together.”

*silence*

“scara?”

“no.”

“what?”

“no, you are not doing this.”

aaaand he walks away…

as much as you try to talk to him after that, he avoids you. it doesnt last long though, maybe 2-3 days. 

still, not very nice. you knew he wasnt the best person in the communication department, but wow.

anytime you tried to bring it up, he would shoot it down or avoid confrontation. 

how nice would it be if he would just tell you if he was uncomfortable with teasing like that? 

with all the teasing he makes you go through, you would think he could endure some himself. maybe he wasnt used to it though, or maybe you connection with him didnt abide by the rules of hypocracy. 

maybe you should shun him back? a taste of his own medicine. 

so thats how you ended up with indigo eyes piercing into you soul. as soon as you gave him any hint of a cold shoulder, his disappeared. 

hes a stubborn man, he wont just go talk to you like a normal person. and all this over a cheesy pickup line. 

its more than that though, the way he treats you is much more that what he can handle himself. be gentle on him, he doesnt know these things. 

he doesnt know this feeling that arises every time he looks at you, when you say his name in that pretty voice of yours, the faces and reactions you make that are too precious for anyone else to see. 

so when you hit him with a one-liner, maybe the feeling is too unbearable for the guy. 

go reassure him, he needs it. 

✧༝┉˚*❋ Neuvillette ❋*˚┉༝✧

“your lips look lonely, can mine keep them company?”

Neuvillette nearly dies on the spot. this is the most romantic gesture hes ever heard of - he loves poetry, you know.

“why of course, my love.”

okay

okay, you just kissed the chief justice of fontaine. wow wow wow cool cool okay dont freak out. 

his face is still so close to yours - hairs away. his eyes meet yours, full of love and adoration. 

his lips are still parted, you can feel his breath against your lips. 

they were soft and gentle. would he mind if you went in for another? surely not..?

and just amd you closed your eyes, they were startled open. a melusine opened the door and interrupted your moment. 

oh well, how could you be mad when the look neuvillette snuck you screamed 'meet me again and we can pick up where we left off'.

✧༝┉˚*❋ Wriothesley ❋*˚┉༝✧

“you should lock yourself up, ya know, stealing is prohibited. “

he plays along immediately, smiling, but doesnt lift his eyes from his paperwork. 

“and i am so very sorry for your lunch, perhaps you could let me go with a fine, my generous love?”

your lunch? oh, hes gonna pay for this! you didnt even know about it until now, too! 

“my lunch?! what did you do to it?!” 

he looks up finally. 

“you dont know? oh well never mind dont think about it, love. its for… the better…”

how mysterious. if you could deadpan him harder, you would. 

“...so, what else did i steal?”

the audacity.

“well if you have to know, it was going to be cute and romantic, i was going to say you stole my heart but you can just give it right back, along with your lunch.”

and you walk away, off to check where you put your food. 

some wishful thinking said that he was just joking for a bit, but knowing him, you cant always be sure…

---------

if u want any other characters, drop a request in my mail/ask box ❤️❤️

[luveline]

HIIIIII! I’m so obsessed with you and this series but If it fits into the storyline maybe could we get something where princess hasn’t been seen or heard from all day and the whole castle is gossiping that she ran away and Prince Steve hasn’t been able to pull away from his duties to find her but he eventually does. Kinda vague but I know if you do this you’ll write it better than I could ever explain it lol 💖💖

thank you so much! ♡ prince steve au fem, 1.3k

Steve is in his politics class when he hears the first whisper. There are many awful things that come with being the future inheritor of an entire kingdom, and the very worst in his opinion is having to know the politics of the surrounding kingdoms, cities, islands, island kingdoms and their cities. It's exhausting.  

And what cruel torture is this? His mother and father insist he needs to find his soulmate before he turns twenty four, but when he does find you he's not actually allowed to spend time with you. You're locked away like a sick fairytale and Steve spends hours at a time wondering what you're doing, what you're thinking, if you've been eating properly. He went from knowing nothing about you to not enough. 

Your name is like a lime spotlight. He hears it and he perks up, a trained dog, looking out of the corner of his eye at two service maids changing the eucalyptus sconces. 

"I heard she tried to leave a few days ago and got caught. If I were Y/N I'd never walk again, let alone run away. I'd have someone bring me a pot to piss in–" 

"Shush!" the second maid laughs. "What if someone heard us?" 

They're lucky the others in the room are distracted, less lucky that Steve is a moth to your flame. 

"Wherever she is, I hope she doesn't come back. Prince Steven doesn't flirt with us anymore, it's depressing. Do you think my tabard makes me look fat?" 

Wherever she is? Where are you? 

Steve starts to stand and gets forcibly sat back down by his tutor. "Don't make me hit you with the stick, Steven," he says, his teasing lost to a permanent monotone drawl. 

It continues more of the same but in different places. He hears possible locations at fencing practice, motives between sickening spoonfuls of pot pie and biscuits he can't stomach. Guardsmen talk of you in alcoves and the seamstresses whisper it between pins held in their lips, until finally Steve's had enough. 

"What use is fitting me for my suit if the bride's run away?" he asks, pulling pins from his thighs. "This is ridiculous. I'm done." 

He scrambles into his clothes and shoes. He's buttoning his shirt in the middle of a wide hallway when Robin appears. "Public indecency, nice." 

"This is my house." 

"No need to brag." She offers her hands to take his jacket so he can button faster. "You know your princess is missing, right?"

"Where have you been all day?" he asks. 

"Where do you think? I've been looking for her. Safe to say she's not in the Palace. Where did you say she lived before this?" 

"I… don't know." 

"Useless. We've no hopes of retrieving her then, unless you want to put out a mandate for her return." 

"Stop talking like that," Steve says, scrubbing his jaw tiredly. "I know where she is, I think. You can't come with me." 

"Why?" 

"It's a secret." 

"You can't leave the Palace without me. Do you know how close I was to getting fired last week?" 

You and Steve snuck out before dawn to explore the city together, and to finally get to know one another for a chunk of time. It wasn't enough, but it was a good start. Steve told you a few secrets, and it's about to come in handy.

"Good thing it's not outside of the Palace, then," he says, grinning at Robin mischievously as he takes his jacket from her, turning to walk backwards and steadily away. "Stay here."

"I'll find your dumb hiding place!" she calls after him. 

Steve shrugs into his jacket and descends the stairs. It took him years of being constantly watched to evade the eye, and if you've successfully secluded yourself where he thinks, you're a natural royal. Steve slips down another set of marble stairs, through a hallway, into one of the many intricate drawing rooms, to finally slip unseen behind an ornate oil portrait of his great great great grandma. 

He finds you sleeping in his den. The walls are tacked with teenage dreams, the floor littered with books he had good intentions of reading. You're curled on your side on the cot, the rinds of blood oranges at your chest and your lips stained mildly red from eating them. There's barely any light in this secret room; Steve can't stay here long without getting claustrophobic, but he needs to come here sometimes or he ends up feeling a different kind of trapped. 

He turns the latch of the oil lamp and lights a match. When he touches the red head of it to the lamp's dish, blue, green, and hyacinth-purple light sprays the walls and your snoozing face. Cutout stars remain, the shade of your skin left alone. 

He resists the urge to wake you with the tip of his thumb pressed to one such star, instead kneeling by the cot to shake your arm. "Hey," he murmurs, "you okay?" 

You blink. Sleep crusts your left eye and your lips are chapped, the whites of your eyes a sore red as you meet his. It's funny, nobody looks pretty waking up, but Steve thinks you've just about managed it.

He gives into what he wants, his hand riding the gentle curve of your arm. 

"What's wrong?" he asks quietly. 

You stare at him like he's not what you were expecting. 

"You okay?" he asks again, rubbing the crook of your elbow in search of an answer.

"'M fine," you say, barely audible through hoarseness. 

You sit up and wipe your eyes. Steve reluctantly takes his hand back, not wanting to overdo anything. It's the strangest feeling in the world to know someone will love you one day but they don't know you yet. Stranger still to know you're all alone here, and if Steve doesn't advocate for you, there aren't many who will. 

He's happy to do it. 

"Did someone say something to you?" he asks gently. 

He wouldn't speak to you like this if you didn't respond, your posture slouching forward, relaxing from that tense rigidity you hold whenever you first see him. 

"No one said anything to me, Steve. Your– my lady's maids wouldn't leave me alone. I'm not used to, uh, having my entire day planned for me." You collect your orange rinds into your palm. "It feels childish now, but I needed to be by myself. Do you know what I mean?" 

"I've been doing what other people tell me for years." He takes the orange rinds from your hands. There's nowhere to put them, so he keeps them. He didn't want you to get your fingers sticky with pith. "And it drives me crazy. That's why I told you about this place." 

You make a face like your breath is caught. He sees it everyday. He's starting to worry you're too easily panicked. 

"Have you eaten anything else today? We should go."

"Will they make me do all the things I should've been doing?" you ask. 

"It's evening. We'll have dinner on the terrace, your lady's maids won't come up to you while we're together." He seals his promise with a quick kiss to your knuckles. Your soul mark glows palest pink. "You're sure it's nothing else?" 

You, hesitant as a dormouse, trail the side of your pinky finger against his wrist where it rests on the cot. Purple‐blue light like iris petals paint your skin. "This is all really crazy," you whisper. 

"I know," he says back, voice dropped to a murmur to match you. He can't offer you a better response —this will always be crazy. 

You nod slowly for a moment, visibly thinking. "What do you want for dinner tonight?" you ask. 

"I want what you want." 

"Maybe I want what you want, Steve." 

You make his name sound like an inside joke. He tucks the glow of his soul mark out of view as it burns a rosy hue. 

[intheholler]

what do you think of all of the people being scared of appalachia? i don't know if this is recent or not, but currently i've been seeing a ton of shit online like "never go to the appalachian mountains, it's so dangerous", and i just don't understand it. my family's lived in appalachia for forever, and none of us have experienced anything paranormal or endangering to us. you're one of my favorite blogs on here and i'd just like to hear your thoughts on it

first off, it means a lot that i'm one of your favorite blogs and im really happy i can contribute something to your experience here :') thanks so much for being here <333

but ok so.

my thoughts on it are many. it's been bothering me a long time and i've been meaning to get it off my chest. this will be long and probably ranty, so it won't hurt my feelings if anyone skims lol

lemme preface this little diatribe by saying the obvious: folklore is an integral part of any culture. the mythos of a place/people is tied directly to their histories and unique experiences and struggles and they are enriching. this is true of appalachia too.

oral folk traditions especially are incredibly historically appalachian.

i mentioned in a post i made yesterday about murder ballads, how the purpose of these was to warn kids away from doing dumb shit and getting lost in the hollers--falling down cliffs n mineshafts and shit at night. gettin got by wildlife.

it spooked us safe. they served a purpose, and once you got old enough to realize they're as real as the tooth fairy, they just become enjoyable and nostalgic. because they're you're culture.

probably every mountain kid has stories about haints n boogers that were told to them by their grandparents, and they grow up to tell them to their own kids, and so on. some of it stuck with me because i grew up with the folklore.

by that i mean, i'm a whole 31 year old woman and i still avoid looking out a dark window at night cause it gives me the shivers. i still get spooked when i hear a big cat yowling in the woods. but the difference is i know there's not really haints out there crying--it's just a product of my childhood. ghost stories are fun.

the problem comes in when someone outside the culture gets their hands on appalachian oral folk traditions. then, it becomes a familiar problem: outsiders cherry picking appalachia and harming us with the mess they make rifling through it all.

it's all about the surface level and the visuals. they all love a good aesthetic blog, run by some local from out west or some shit who's never stepped foot here.

but as soon as the spooky photo filters come off and the real life marginalized person is left standing there just out of frame, we go back to being disgusting examples of what not to be. decrepit churches n buildings are aesthetic and quirky until they stop being on a pinterest board, and then they just become damning images of an impoverished region who deserves to be laughed at.

now, not to holler 'splain you--this is more for anyone not from here who might read this: it's been a systemic issue for decades; there were literal government campaigns to demonize us to the rest of the nation so they could garner support to cut into our mountains and exploit our labor and resources.

well, they were fuckin successful, and we have been falsely made out to be this homogenous nightmare of a place--"welfare exploiting" maga country who deserves everything we get, and nothing we don't.

by going so far as to take appalachian folklore that we tell each other and picking out the "aesthetic" stuff--the haints and general paranormal--they are pruning what they like from our culture--the safe things, like ghost stories--for their own aesthetic use.

but not only that, they are using it to demonize us… yet again.

'appalachia is scary. it's full of things that will kill you. don't look out the window at night cause a booger will get you.' only they don't call them boogers cause they ain't even from here. ask them what a haint is and they'll ask if u mispelled 'haunt.'

it gets even worse when you consider that so much of it has roots in native american culture, and how that continues to be exploited and misrepresented.

i'm not even innocent of that. a while back i had to check myself because i made a comment on here about ~spooky appalachia~ ignorant to the fact that what i was commenting on was actually a deeply important cultural and spiritual element to local indigenous tribes. my comments were harmful by my failure to educate myself and know better, thereby saying things carelessly.

my point being--i'm from the area. i should have known better.

when outsiders start saying the kind of shit they say about what they think they hear in the woods without even knowing where such an idea comes from, they're disrespecting a displaced, abused and exploited people, harming real cultures just for clicks without even knowing. that's on top of the damage they're doing to greater appalachia.

it's fuckin gross.

i think my favorite one i ever seen was this middle aged white lady going through her pristine mcmansion somewhere in suburbia, pulling the million curtains and locking the million doors, going "nighttime routine in appalachia!! 🤪🤪"

i could be wrong about this particular person--i didn't check their other tiktoks because im sick of them accounts and tired of giving them the benefit of the doubt--but it immediately came off as a transplant because:

1) mcmansion, 2) i dont know nobody here that locks their shit down like that (not locking up could even be argued as a part of my local culture, a reflection of our deep sense of community and trust in our neighbors).

and then the comments was all like "i don't know how you guys live there" and it actually broke my heart and pissed me off because even if--especially if--you're one of us, why the fuck are you harming us for likes? why are you turning people against us in a brand new way?

and to the transplants that do this--why?

you're not even from here, you moved here to this place you hate and made it worse just so your front porch would have a nice view, and are now benefiting socially from perpetuating bullshit about us?

you buy up all the land, land we often had no choice but to sell in the first place to survive instead of passing it on to our families, land we originally took from the indigenous peoples your content comes from.

you overdevelop it and turn it unrecognizable to make it more like the comfortable cities you come from. you gut a mountain town of its local businesses and cultures, you price people out of their homes...

...and then once you settle in all cozy like, you go tell everyone else how scary it is? how you can't trust the hills? like it's a cool paranormal bravery badge to wear? fuck off entirely.

so idk, in short my personal thoughts are: i personally enjoy a little myth as a treat, because the folklore is a part of the gothic, a part of our culture and a part of my childhood. i don't (intentionally) wield it as a weapon or use it as a pedestal to get the weird brand of attention that people like them are after.

and those who do this can get got by them haints for all i care.

[byunejoo]

four seventeen p.m 𐦍

pairing asakura jo x fem reader

content est relationship, virgin!jo, inexperienced boyf!jo, big dick!jo, he’s kinda massive, oral (m rec), handjobs, fingering (f rec), finger sucking, kind of dom!reader but not really, virginity loss, protected and mentioned unprotected sex, condom breaking, he’s embarrassed, he lowkey has a praise kink, potential size kink, mentioned pulling out (but only barely)

word count 3.8k

notes not a request! (where are the jo requests </3) lol i told myself when i was writing this that it wouldn’t be long bc i wasn’t attracted to jo like that…..brain said “u wanna bet dani?” also this is not proofread and the ending was rushed so don’t mind any mistakes please

To say that Jo was nervous would be a major understatement.

You’d been dating Jo for a few months now and it was nothing short of wonderful. It seemed that the two of you operated on the same wavelength; you both shared the same hobbies, opinions, interests, and even your differences didn’t clash, but instead balanced each other out. It almost felt like you were made for one another.

On the other hand, though, he felt very nervous for the next step in your relationship. So far, all you have done was minimal affection—a kiss here and there, hugging and some slightly-stiff cuddling. But he’d noticed lately how much more clingy you were, how your touches lingered, kisses were longer, and your eyes wandered. He wasn’t dumb. He knew what you were thinking about.

But the issue comes when it actually gets down to it.

It’s not that Jo is a virgin by choice. Well—his own choice. There were times where he brushed off his nerves with others he was interested in, but once they had gotten his pants down, all plans fell through. In short, Jo’s dick is big. Much bigger than most people know how to handle. And instead of making him cocky and confident about his size, it did the complete opposite. He felt almost ashamed.

So, when you took initiative one afternoon, kissing him a little harder and longer than you usually do, he got nervous. He tried to keep up with kissing you back, but all he could focus on was your hand that dropped past his shoulder, sneaking further and further down his front. When he felt your fingertips brush past his belly button, he gasped and pulled back from the kiss. You, shocked from the abrupt action, pulled your hand away quickly and stared at him with wide eyes. Have you done something wrong? Did you make him uncomfortable?

“I’m sorry—,” you both started. The two of you gestured to one another to continue, awkwardly laughing.

“I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

“I didn’t mean to scare you.” You shared a laugh about speaking again at the same time, but a blanket of seriousness covered the two of you after that. It was quiet and a little awkward. Neither of you wanted to be the one to break the silence after that. You watched as Jo avoided your gaze and fidgeted with his fingers. Those fingers that you often find yourself staring at as of late. Just thinking, wondering, imagining how they would feel—. “I’m sorry, I’m just a little nervous to…do anything.”

You regained your focus, letting your eyes snap back up to look at his face. His cheeks were tinted a slightly pink shade, his ears red, and although he was trying to look at you, he couldn’t stop his shifty eyes. “We don’t have to do anything, JoJo, that’s okay.”

“I want to!” If you hadn’t been staring at him so intently, you would’ve been startled by his sudden burst. “Sorry…. I-I want…to do stuff. I’m just nervous.”

Reaching a comforting hand out, you patted him on the shoulder. “Why’s that, babe? What makes you so nervous?”

Jo finally made eye contact with you. He sighed, squeezing his eyes shut to avoid your gaze yet again. He’s not sure if he could tell you while you’re looking at him like that. He doesn’t want to see the look of disappointment when he tells you “I’m a virgin.”

You snort a little, breathing out a sigh of relief. Scooting closer to him, you pressed right up against him to lean your head on his shoulder. “Thank god. I thought it was something I had done. You know I don’t care if you’re a virgin or not. We can do whatever you want, and not do whatever you don’t.”

He couldn’t deny how he hardened in his pants, thinking about finally having that moment, and with you of all people, being someone he cares about deeply. Out of the corner of your eyes, you saw the bulge in his pants, but kept your eyes trained on his face as you reached for it. You were searching for any sign of hesitation, any sign he wants you to stop. But there wasn’t one.

And when you finally placed your hand over it, Jo felt his breath catch in his throat. He wasn’t fully hard yet, but that didn’t matter. In just a matter of time, with the way your hand was now working over his pants, he would be.

“Is this okay?” You could feel the way his thighs tense beside your hand. He was still avoiding your gaze, but you could see that he was looking at where you touch him. He nods. “I want to hear you say it.”

“It-It’s o-kay.” His voice was a little shaky, but it gave you all the confirmation you needed.

You leaned over, pressing a gentle kiss on the underside of his jaw. Adding a little more pressure, you cupped your hand more firmly around him, squeezing occasionally. His cock hardened, becoming more solid in your grasp. He gasped, taking shallow breaths as you kissed along his jaw and neck while you moved your hand. “Can I take your pants off?”

Your fingers slipped under his waistband when he said yes, hooking around his pants and underwear, pulling them both down to his thigh. His—now fully hard—cock sprung up, hitting against his stomach with a soft thud. Heat rushed from his chest all the way up to his forehead, and you couldn’t help but let out a soft laugh. He groaned, reaching for his half-discarded pants. But you pushed his hands away and pinned his wrists to his side. He stares at you with wide eyes, waiting for your next move. Were you going to laugh at him? Humiliate him and tell him he was too big to do anything with, like everyone else?

No, you didn’t do any of that. “Is this what you were worried about, puppy?” He almost sighed at the petname. “Were you worried that your big dick would scare me away?” He nodded. You couldn’t help but let out another laugh. Not because you were laughing at him, nor making fun of him, but you can’t believe that all this time it was only because of something he has no control over.

“Please don’t laugh at me.”

You coo. “I’m not laughing at you. I think it’s cute that you were worried about this. But I promise it doesn’t scare me. Actually, it’s kind of arousing.” As you spoke, you smoothed over the skin of his thighs, hoping to make him less tense. “I’ll only do what you allow me to do. Can I touch you?”

“Yes. I want you to touch me, please.”

As you move to straddle his legs, Jo feels the bed shift under the movement of your knees, much like the way his stomach turns and dips at the realization that it’s happening. You are about to touch him, you’re going to make him cum, being the first person other than himself to do so. Your steady hands reach out, and after what feels like centuries, you finally wrap them around his cock. Two of your hands don’t even cover him completely from base to the tip. You give him a few experimental, dry pumps first before removing one hand. Spitting into the palm of it, you then used it to lubricate the glide of your hands on his length.

It felt much different having your hands on him versus his own. Your touch, although firm, was a lot softer. Gentler. You moved your hands a lot more slowly, familiarizing yourself with the heavy feeling of him in your hands. Feeling every inch of him, every little vein, and embedding that feeling into your mind. Your thumb swipes over his tip, dragging little beads of precum down, making every tug and twist of your hands on his cock even wetter and more slick. All he could do was squeeze his eyes shut and let out low moans. He could barely register when you asked if you could use your mouth, which he agreed to, of course.

The contact from your tongue had his eyes shooting open, feeling like all the air was knocked out of his lungs. He managed to let his eyes wander down, and he was met by the sight of you already looking at him, kitten licking over his tip while stroking him. Then, while he kept eye contact with you, you wrapped your lips around him. Only the tip at first. Gently suckling, hollowing your cheeks, then pulling off. After a few moments, you began to take more of him into your mouth. Just a couple of inches, little by little, until you felt you couldn’t take any more. You used one hand to follow behind your mouth so not one inch of his cock went untouched as you moved your head, bobbing up and down, back and forth. Jo could only grip the sheets beside his legs tightly, moaning and sighing. It was a feeling he’d never felt before. One that he could only think about in his dirty fantasies. The idea of someone being brave enough to pleasure him and his big dick was something he thought was too far-fetched, something he thought he’d never experience in his entire life. But here you are, sucking him off and giving him pleasure he could only dream of.

Before he realizes it, a tight feeling spreads from his flexed abdomen down to his toes, where he curls them while trying to fend off his pending orgasm. He knows he can’t hold off much longer, but he selfishly wants to have your mouth around him as long as he can have it. “Ah, I-I’m gonna c-um…” His words were broken from the sounds he’d been making previously. You didn’t stop nor slow down, and instead attempted to take just a little more between your lips. One hand moved to shuffle his shirt out of the way, the other holding his length steady as you moved your focus to rolling your tongue over and suckling what you have stuffed in your mouth. His thighs tensed and shook lightly as you pushed him right over the edge, humming around him. Your tongue laps up every drop he spills, causing broken moans to rumble from his chest straight to your core. You’d pretty much tuned out your own reactions, focusing on pleasuring him for the first time, but you can’t deny how badly it had affected you.

Once you’d swallowed every drop you could, and he was twitching from overstimulation, you climbed off of Jo’s legs and sat by his side. “Was that okay?” You pressed your thighs together looking at him. His chest was heaving up and down with the deep breaths he was taking to regulate his breathing, his hair was slightly tousled from your previous kiss, and the slight sheen of sweat on his flushed cheeks looked all too good to you. Not to mention the faintest of red marks on his neck from where you’d attached your lips earlier and the way his eyes are squeezed shut. He nodded, not confident in his voice yet. Yes, it was good, he wanted to tell you. Better than I could’ve imagined.

A heavy, but comfortable, silence fell upon the both of you as you allowed Jo to catch his breath. However, you couldn't deny that his labored breathing next to you, and the desire bubbling up and finally coming to a head once you’d finally seen what you’d been longing for didn’t make you want more. But you promised, you’d only do what Jo wanted. You’d go at his pace. It wouldn’t hurt to ask, though, would it?

“Do you want to go…further?” Yet again, his breath caught in his throat at your bold question. “It’s okay if not.”

He nods, seemingly the only reaction he can manage at this point. And with a few more questions, answered with a shake or a nod of his head, you had switched positions. Now you were laying in the spot he previously had been, knees bent and pressed together as Jo sits on his heels, waiting for you to tell him what you wanted him to do. He’d never gotten this far with anyone else, either.

“Take off my shorts. Just the shorts.” You stared at him, watching him nervously lick his lips. His plump lips that you can’t wait to feel all over you—but that’s for next time. This time, you wanted the focus to be less about you, despite how his full attention was on you now. This was his first time, and you want the experience to be all about him. But you aren’t sure if you could take him without some sort of preparation first. So you watch as his trembling fingers hook around the waistband of your flimsy shorts, gently tugging them off of your skin. You lift your hips so he could pull them off easier. Then, you moved your feet once the fabric pooled around your ankles, watching as he dropped them to the side. He struggled to keep his eyes at an appropriate level, totally unsure of where he’s allowed to look. “Look at me, babe. I want you to take my panties off, and I want you to see how wet I am for you.”

Jo feels like he’s going to explode with the words you’re saying. You’re wet? For him? These words are so simple yet so new and vulgar to him, but he thinks he likes them. He wants to hear more. So he hooks his fingers around the fabric of your underwear, much like he had done with your shorts before, only this time more confidently. However, he wasn’t ready for the sight in front of him when he’d pulled them off. Naturally, his eyes followed an imaginary line from your ankles all the way down your legs, where he saw what he thinks is one of his new favorite sights. You’d spread your thighs as he slipped your panties off of your legs, and he had a clear view of your gorgeous pussy. It was so pretty, and you hadn’t lied when you said you were wet. He couldn’t help but admire how some of your arousal had leaked into the seat of your underwear, spreading across your folds that glisten now that he’d removed the clothing.

“Give me your hand.” You reached out for him, and without much thought, he placed his large hand in your own. One by one, you curled his fingers down until he had just his pointer finger standing. Then, you guided his hand between your legs. You helped him slide his finger through your slick arousal, wetting his finger and dragging it back up to your clit. “You feel that? All for you.” After that, you let go of his wrist and let him feel for himself.

He timidly ran his finger through your slit like you’d done, then stopped at your entrance. His fingertip breached the opening, being met with little resistance. Inch by inch, little by little, he pushes his finger into you slowly. Pulling it out, pushing back in, he sets an inexperienced, slow pace. Jo was fascinated with watching his finger disappear inside you. “More. Another one, please.” You breathed out. He hadn’t even noticed any of the sounds you were making before. But he obliged and added a second finger beside his first one. The feeling was new to him, having you squeeze around his fingers each time he thrust them in. And every moan and shaky breath you let out was something he could get used to. “Oh, Jo, your fingers are so good. Doing so well.” Every praise sent a shock through his body, and in turn caused him to fuck his fingers into you just a little faster. Twisting his wrist, curling his fingertips—anything to get you to make those noises again.

Suddenly, your hand shoots down to grasp at his wrist. He freezes in shock, halting all movement. “Mm, don’t stop, please. Almost there.” With barely enough time to register the words that slipped past your lips, Jo watches as you begin to grind yourself on his fingers. Whines, whimpers, gasps, all noises floating through the air make him twitch, already getting hard again. You’re fully fucking yourself on his fingers now, taking charge and pushing yourself closer to orgasm. And when your thighs start to tremble and your hips jerk, Jo finally snaps out of his trance and begins to move his fingers. He curls them and drags them against your walls, feeling you clench down on them. His thumb brushes against the spot you showed him earlier, your clit, and starts rubbing gentle circles on it. Your hips jerked, stomach caving in with the pleasure. A few swears mixed with broken moans ripped through your throat at the added sensation, riding out your high until you lightly twitched with overwhelming sensitivity.

He pulled his fingers out of you, covered and soaked by your slick release. Staring, he’s a little uncertain of what to do now; does he wipe them off? What is he supposed to do now that they’re sticky and covered in you? Luckily, he didn’t have to think much before you sat up on weak arms to take his fingers into your mouth. Your tongue swipes up, down, and between his two fingers, licking him clean of any trace of arousal left behind. His mouth drops open in shock watching you, eyes following your every move closely. You hum around his fingers and pull off with a lewd pop sound. He couldn’t deny that he was hard again, mind racing with thoughts as you stare at him with eyes clouded by lust.

“Can-Can we…keep going?” He’s the one to ask this time. It was obvious that he was nervous from the shakiness in his voice, but you confidently nodded.

You rolled over to your side, stretching to reach your bedside table and pulling open the drawer on it. Reaching in, you fished around before pulling your hand back out with a shiny foil packet. “Have you ever put a condom on before?” He shook his head no and you beckoned him closer. Sitting up, you watch as he awkwardly shuffles his way to you, hard cock pathetically bobbing with each movement. “Watch me do it.”

With a firm grip, you held the base of his cock steady. You pinched the very end of the condom with one hand, and slowly started to roll it down his length with the other. It was a bit hard to do, but you managed to completely unroll it. The entire time, Jo’s eyes were trained on the work your hands were doing, trying to etch it into his memory for later use.

“It’s a bit tight.” He almost chokes on air at your words. “The condom, I mean. Does it feel alright? It doesn’t hurt, does it?” Jo looks at where you’re staring, and he sees the condom stretched tightly around his girth. He shakes his head no again, and you lay back, allowing him to continue.

He shuffles between your spread legs and tries to line himself up. When you realize that he’s just a little bit too shaky, you grab his wrist. “Jo. Are you sure you want to do this? You seem really nervous.”

He nods. You shake your head, urging him to use his words. “I’m…okay. I want to…do this. Please.”

“Okay. Okay. Take your time, babe.” You leaned back, relaxed. “There’s no rush.”

To Jo, it felt like an eternity before he was able to calm down enough to do anything. He was nervous, and excited. It was finally happening; he’d finally lose his virginity if he could just—. He presses his tip into you. The stretch was a lot, almost too much, but your slick wetness and the extra lubrication on the condom made the glide easier. Coupled with the fact that Jo was taking his time — he was pressing into you so slowly that if you couldn’t feel how he was stretching you out, you wouldn’t believe he was moving at all.

Jo braced himself on his hands beside your body. He slowly pushed his length into you until you couldn’t take any more. The two of you let out shaky breaths in unison, adjusting to the feeling. Of you being so full and of him being squeezed so tightly.

It was unlike any time he touched himself. For a while, he’d wrap his large fist around his equally long and thick cock, dreaming about this moment. He knew it would feel different. He just didn’t know it would feel this different. Having your gummy walls stretched and squeezing so tightly around him had his head spinning, and before he knew it, he was absentmindedly rutting his hips into you, trying to pathetically bury himself deeper inside you.

You gasped, grasping his shoulders, lightly digging your fingernails in. “Oh, Jo.” Small moans floated through the room. “You’re doing so good.”

He sits up on his knees to better drive his hips into yours, slightly jolting your body with every thrust. He, too, was letting out small noises of pleasure, trying to focus on what he was doing so it was pleasurable for both of you. But all of a sudden, he stops.

It took everything in you to not whine. Instead, you kept your composure. Maybe he didn’t want to continue anymore? This is a lot to take in, going from completely inexperienced to having your first everything in one night. You glided your hands down from his shoulders to his bicep, all the way down to his wrists to squeeze comfortingly. “Are you okay, Jo?”

He nods, shakes his head, then nods again. “I-Um. I’m…fine. It’s just,” you gently encourage him to speak. “I think…I think it broke.”

“The condom?” He nods. “Pull out. Pull out and let me see.” It took some urging, but he did eventually, hesitantly, pull out. And he was right — the condom had split and now had to be discarded. Jo had a pout on his face as he watched you gently pull off the ripped condom and toss it aside. He was fully prepared for you to tell him you can’t continue, and he accepted that. But you didn’t.

He lets out a confused noise. “We can keep going if you want.” You repeat. “Just let me know when you’re going to finish so you can pull out, okay?”

The feeling of being inside you without that extra barrier is so mind numbing that he almost doesn’t pull out. Almost.

[littlexscarletxwitch]

Hi, I saw that you request is open, so is it okay if I request a Natasha x fem!R in a secret relationship and Nat always leave a hickey in R's neck and the team kept on asking R where did it come from and R will answer "just a spider bite" and the team thought it came from Peter, but Peter denies it, until Nat calls R a pet name and they kissed in front of the team. Thank you!

── ༊*·˚⋆ 𝘀𝗽𝗶𝗱𝗲𝗿 𝗯𝗶𝘁𝗲

paring: natasha romanoff x fem!reader

tag(s): fluff, the team being the team, i love clint and nat so much, also civil war never happened in this timeline (lol)

warning(s): grammatical errors, unedited

word count: 0.8k

note: OMG MY FIRST NAT FIC!. I had so much fun writing this, thank you for letting me write out your idea, nonnie. I kinda changed it a little bit, I hope that's okay. Sorry it's kinda short. I'm not a native english speaker, so please let me know about any sort of mistake. Hope you guys enjoy! <3

requests are open! + check my rules + masterlist <3

Your breath hitched as you felt her soft wet lips on your neck. 

“Natty, stop. You are going to leave a hickey,” you tried to sound annoyed but clearly you were enjoying the situation. 

“Yeah, that’s what I’m trying to do,” you heard her mumble against your skin. 

“Nat, they are going to find out if you keep on marking me,” you chuckled. 

“I don’t care, detka. Let them know who you belong to,” you could hear the grin on her face. 

“You are the worst,” you rolled your eyes. 

“Yeah, but you love me.”

“Yes. Yes, I do.”

[...]

“Again. This time punch harder, Y/n. Imagine you're fighting for your life,” Steve said, trying to help you out. 

Your head fell back in annoyance, you had been throwing punches at the punching bag for the last hour. Your arms were sore, your feet hurt from standing and you felt like you could just die any second now. 

“Hey, what’s that on your neck?” you heard Bucky said next to Steve. 

Your hand immediately went up to cover the hickey. You had tried your best to put some makeup on it, but clearly you hadn’t done a good job. 

“What is it?” you tried to play dumb, which was no use. The boys standing in front of you knew better than that, they could see right through you.

“Looks like a bruise,” Steve raised his brow at you. 

“Spider bite,” you mumbled. 

“What was that?” Steve asked, not having heard anything you had just said. But Bucky had heard perfectly. 

“Oh, nothing. It’s probably a mosquito bite,” you shrugged it off.

Steve and Bucky looked at each other. Sure, Steve may seem innocent and cute but he knew better, and that was no mosquito bite. Bucky could tell that it was a hickey even from a mile away. Still, they played along.

“Yeah, sure,” Steve shrugged it off.

“Come on, again,” Bucky said, nodding to the punching bag. Smile creeping on his face as knew he would use this new information later on. 

[...]

“So, you two have been spending a lot of time together recently…” Tony said, entering the kitchen. There was something about his tone that sent a shiver up your spine. He was up to something. 

Tony walked in while you and Peter were having an afternoon snack, you were helping him out with his homework. Well, you weren’t actually helping him, you were telling him everything about your relationship with Natasha while he was trying to do his homework. He was the only one who knew that the two of you were dating and was the only person who didn’t mind hearing you rambling nonstop about your badass girlfriend.

“Yeah, we have been training together, what about it?” 

“Nothing at all, Barnes said something and I was just curious,” he said nonchalantly.

“What did he say?” Peter chimed in, finally looking away from his books. 

He chuckled, clearly enjoying the situation, “Well, he said that the thing on your neck isn’t a mosquito bite, more like a spider bite,” he winked at the two of you. 

You and Peter shared a look and a second later the two of you were laughing. 

“You think he gave me the ‘spider bite’,” you said in between laughs. 

“Y/n, they think we are dating,” Peter put a hand over his belly trying to hold back his laughter. 

“Wait, you didn’t give her that hickey?” Tony asked seriously. 

“No, Mr. Stak, what makes you think that?” the boy next to you said once he was done laughing. 

“I just thought… Barnes said… But Steve thought,” Tony couldn’t say a word, confusion was written all over his face. 

Just when he was about to say a coherent sentence another person walked in the kitchen. 

“Hey, detka,” Natasha said and pecked your lips. 

“Wait what?!” Tony screamed. 

Soon enough more people found their way into the kitchen because of Tony. 

“What’s going on?” you heard Bucky said. 

“Is everyone okay?” Steve stepped in, always the gentleman.

“Nat’s the spider,” Tony simply answered. 

“What?” the two of them asked in unisom. 

“Y/n’s spider?” Clint chimed in. 

“Yes. All this time I thought it was Parker,” Tony said in annoyance. 

“I don’t understand why this is a big deal…” you tried to say but someone cut you off.

“Pay up, losers,” Clint cheered. 

“What?” you and Nat complained at the same time. 

“They had a bet. This is actually really funny,” Peter said, trying to hold back from laughing so hard. 

“Goddamin it, Y/n,” Tony protested. 

You watched as the three men gave each a fifty-dollar bill to Clint. You couldn’t help to playfully roll your eyes at them, they were like children.  

“It’s okay, malyshka. Let them be,” Nat said before softly kissing your lips. 

“Okay, yeah, that’s our cue,” you heard Clint say.

Likes, comments and reblogs are appreciated! <3

-M

[lcvehee]

lost and found (smau)

#12. tacky disco lights

꩜ .ᐟ a/n: two weeks of uni has already drained me😭 currently fighting for my life lol. not proofread SAWRRY

꩜ .ᐟ wc: idk. short-ish chapter.

꩜ .ᐟ synopsis: y/n finally learns abt what she did that infamous night... not everything though.

sohee smiled sheepishly. "i don't know where to start."

"okay, so we went to a bar and then..?" y/n prodded, sitting upright.

"yeah, so... after a few shots of soju we went in a karaoke booth."

at this revelation, y/n face turned red. "we did what?"

blurry images of that night resurfaced in her mind. the tacky disco lights and the awful reverb ringing in her ears. the alcohol seemed to be alight inside her bloodstream, making her feel all giddy.

"you were really enthusiastic," he affirmed, suppressing a grin. "almost broke my eardrums." he pointed to his ears.

"well," she frowned, staring right into his eyes. "i wasn't the only one who sang, right?"

"of course, y/n..." he shrugged. "i told you, singing's one of my hobbies."

at his words, she could suddenly remember the way the air felt so hot on her skin, as they sat shoulder to shoulder in those worn out red leather seats. the way he looked when he was singing his favorite song; the joy in his bright eyes. she was mesmerized.

—

"y/n? are you listening?"

"hm?"

"so no. you were... reminiscing," he muttered, answering his own question. "do you remember everything now?"

she nodded, albeit a bit embarrassed. she managed to unravel those deeply buried memories.

as she spoke of that night, he could remember the way she pranced around while he sat there, singing a pop song.

he remembered the way she kept saying something, trying to overpower the loud instrumental, without success.

she leaned down, her breath tickling his ear. "your voice is really nice," she whispered.

—

"and now you're the one zoning out." she snorted, rolling her eyes. "what'd i miss?"

sohee fake laughed, not wanting her to see his nervousness.

flashbacks echoed in his head. the cold air hitting their warm skin as they stepped into the night. the stark light from the advertisement at the bus stop glowing on their tired faces. the way she put her head on his shoulder, yawning in the process.

he could remember everything.

she turned her face, lips almost brushing the skin of his neck. "what time is it?" she croaked, voice rough from singing yelling.

the way he let out a tiny pathetic gasp, eyes wide in shock. "it's late, i–uh–should get you home," he stuttered.

—

y/n fake coughed, staring pointedly at him.

he sighed, "it's nothing."

i can't ruin what we have. that'd be dumb.

she crossed her arms, not satisfied but not pressing further, "fine... you owe me."

he resigned, "okay..?"

her eyes darted all over the room, not looking for anything particular, before finally landing his desk. "play me your songs." she gestured towards his musical equipment.

he begrudginly turned on his laptop. "only seunghan and shotaro have heard some of my songs," he muttered.

"so don't mention me when you post about this on twitter," he added.

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© lcvehee | taglist is open: @secretiny @totheseok @renjuneoo @molensworld @wccycc @onlyhyunjin @mystarsohee @llearlert @nujeskz @yoursyuno @minkkumaz @rikisluv @xcosmi @zularen (bold couldn't be tagged, you may have to check your settings!) @vixensss

[tojiscrack]

on my weekly re-read of liar liar, and i was GOING TO pull an all nighter and finish it all, but i feel asleep before i could 😞😞

ANYWAYS!! i find it so funny that throughout the first chapter (and even later chapters, but not as much) its mentioned (and made very obvious) that y/n is a little devil child, that can be too much to handle, but never w megumi. like, idk how to explain it, but hes never thought shes “too much”, and lets her do what she wants, just puts his input in (like when she switched classes, he didnt feel overly annoyed by it, just told her that she was gonna get in trouble) (i might be wrong about this LMAO) youve written them in a way that they balance each other PERFECTLY, like they are genuinely soulmates.

the end scene of the first chapter is oddly one of my favourite parts of the fic, because we get other characters (albeit, minor characters, but wtv) opinions on them, and youve written them exactly like how they describe it. they keep each other in line, and thats why they work so well together.

anyways!!! i love this fanfic so sosososooos much!!! i dont understand how this isnt more popular because???? ITS SO GOOD???? literally how arent people falling in love with your writing within the first 1k words??

(also i meant to include this in a previous ask, but i forgot lol, BUT ONE OF MY FAV DUOS IN THE FIC (and in canon lfmao) is megumi and nobara?? everytime they’re together i genuinely laugh, you nailed their characters and character dynamic)

liar, liar masterlist here:

INCOMING YAP SESSION CUZ THIS ASK GOT ME SUPER DUPER EXCITED KSJSJDIWJ

WEEKLY reread? girl, stop, you’re gonna notice all the typos i cba to get rid of 🫣

HAHAHA, NO STOP, I HAVEN’T HAD ANYONE MENTION THE WHOLE ‘DEVIL CHILD’ THING SINCE THE FIRST TWO CHAPTERS WERE RELEASED 😭 and that, my friend, was months ago 🌝

so i’m so excited to just talk about this omggg!!! 😫💘

yes indeed 😤 megumi would most likely say she’s sm to handle, but really, he lowkey enjoys it. it’s the only time he can be an accomplice witness to such foolish behaviour, and not be reprimanded for it as much ‘cause he just has her to fall back on and blame. he won’t ever stop her, per se, but he’ll tell her once or twice ‘whatever you’re doing, it’s not gonna work’ or ‘don’t be dumb’, and think he’s done his part before being influenced by her 💀

‘i might be wro-’ stfu you’re right and you know it 🙄❤️

and you’re also right in it not being mentioned as much when they’re older. no, i did not forget to add it, that was done intentionally for two reasons:

they’re older now, so as much as she does what she wants with him, she’s a lot more tame than she was as a child. that doesn’t mean she ever regrets the stupid things she’s done (except for the whole mermaid thing, that is a lifelong regret she’ll always have 😭)

the idea that she’s such a menace has been established enough over the years to the point where no one feels the need to voice it. new characters probably would — someone like miss b who was introduced in the middle school chapter — but even then, she was exposed to the more tame versions of the chaotic duo. so everyone kinda silently acknowledges it, and only during crazy moments (like the tragic helicopter incident of 2016, rip satoru/suguru’s will to live 😔) will it actually be voiced (like ogi mistakenly believing that y/n didn’t start any of the nonsense that occurred during the incident, and that was mentioned cuz of the fact that she’s famously known to be so incredibly out of control).

the bonus scene for the first chapter was my fav to write as wellll (tho arguably, i say that about so many scenes, so the value of this statement is probably worth nothing 💀). bonus scenes were initially meant to be ONLY from other people’s pov, but i noticed how so many things from y/n and megumi’s childhood tgth are littered around the story, and that the only way you could ever get any insight of them is through the bonus scene since the chapters are too long to add flashbacks AND bonus scenes. i could always do a separate set of oneshots for them, but i don’t have the time for that (yk this through my horrid updating schedule) 😟

but i am so glad you’re telling me what you enjoyed — and more importantly, being specific about it. it lets me put into perspective how the later chapters (tho already planned) should be set out. your feedback means the world to me, and you deserve a million set of kisses every night for them <3333

‘i love this fanfic sosososo much!!! i don’t understand how this isn’t more popular because??? IT’S SO GOOD???’

okay brb, gonna go and find my right to exist and have the perfect life when cutie pies like you grace this earth 😖💞💓💗💞

maybe one day it’ll get bigger 😊 if that day ever comes, i’ll remember my og readers. i’ll remember the support i was given from them. i’ll remember people like you, who continuously flood my inbox with enough love to pull yank me out of writer’s block and squeeze out another chapter, how because of your long and juicy asks/messages/dms, the cycle of writing i have going on here continues, and i feel more and more proud that i even developed such a fic to begin with ❤️

‘literally how aren’t people falling in love with your writing after the first 1k words’ — errr probably ‘cause the first 1k words were just y/n trying (and failing) to explain what happens in her horror stories without stuttering 💀 LMFAO, SORRY 😭 i’d fall asleep on that carpet if i were the kids surrounding her, and they went to listen willingly.

but ugh, that’s so nice of you, i’m gonna siwjosnwidjwjd

AND OMG YOU’RE SO RIGHT

like everyone talks about yuji/nobara, or yuji/megumi, bUT WHAT ABOUT MY BEANS NOBARA/MEGUMI? they have a level of deep understanding with each other in canon (and in my fic, which will be addressed CHAPTERSSSS later) that i’d love to yap about, but i’ve already yapped enough, like you’re probably cringing rn i’m sorry 😭 another time, maybe 😔

[lawqual1ty]

Hey, Law... (FEM! Law x FEM! Reader)

Pov: You decide to begin your journey as a pirate which ends up making you meet quite an interesting girl... You don't think much of it until fate drags you back on the same path...

This is written as if it was a sort of letter directed towards Law mixed with some flashbacks.

I just watched Nana and got inspired to write this lol, hope you guys like it!

This fic will have a part two!

Warning: Sort of spoilers for Nana and One piece, curse words, a bit of ooc Law(?)

Hey, Law... Do you remember how we first met? I wouldn't be surprised if you had forgotten by now... It happened a while ago yet I still remember it as bright as day...

I remember I had just begun my journey as a pirate, I began at a place where not many people would say it's a good start since for many it's a middle point yet there I was... Besides if I had grown on the grand line I might as well start there right...? I was walking around looking for some supplies and other things that might help me out on my new journey since I didn't have much of a clue on how to start, at the time I didn't know but you were also there together with some significant faces I would get to meet later on...

"Excuse me but where can I find a library?" I asked one of the locals for directions, a library was a good start since in there I could find some maps and books of the grand line and new world if I was lucky enough. The small old man pointed towards the main train of Shabondy and I smiled softly at him muttering a quick thank you before heading off towards the train.

I waited in the station for it to arrive with a bit of impatience, I looked around trying to understand the people that surrounded me and immediately found you... A rather tall girl that seemed to be in her own world, you didn't even look back at me you just kept on silently waiting for the train just like me. I couldn't help but stare in that moment, you were pretty attractive and mysterious... It got my curiosity peaking that I didn't even notice that you had turned to look at me with a slight frown.

"Uh... Do you need anything?" Your voice caught me by surprise, it was nothing like what I had imagined you had a low husky voice that matched perfectly with your style. I blushed immediately and shook two apologetic hands in front of me.

"Oh gosh no sorry about staring..." I felt so dumb in that moment, yet all you did was let out a soft chuckle.

"No need to apologize."

"No really! I shouldn't have" I tried to make quick excuse, after all I was a tad bit ashamed of myself in that moment. "It's just... You're pretty dashing have they ever told you that?"

"I'm sorry" you answered quickly not even looking back at me "But I'm not into woman..."

My eyes widened at your comment, it was unexpected yet it didn't make me uncomfortable much rather I laughed taking you by surprise although I didn't quite notice.

"Why would you assume I was going that way??"

"And why are you laughing...?!" Your voice sounded so confused yet somewhat relieved as you spoke, where you happy I didn't see you that way at the start? I had no clue yet I was enjoying that interaction way too much to actually ponder deeper into your reactions.

I stopped laughing as soon as the train arrived, both of us made our way onto the train almost side by side. I checked my ticket for my seat and started walking towards it not noticing that you had not left my side at all... I looked over at my side as soon as I arrived to my seat finding myself with your dark greyish eyes. I flinched a bit yet I managed to smile in a sort of friendly yet teasing manner.

"Didn't you say you weren't into woman...?" I spoke with a bit of a playful smirk yet your expression didn't waver at all.

"My seat is next to yours..." You answered bluntly as you pointed to what was your seat on the train. My eyes followed your finger until your seat with a bit of shock, I immediately smiled as I turned to look at you.

"Ah, that means we'll be sitting together!"

"I suppose so..." Your voice lowered a bit much to the excitement of mine. I immediately made my way over to the side so that you could enter your seat before I took my own.

The trip wasn't exactly meant to last long but almost as if destiny had wanted for us two to keep at each others path there had been a lot of issues that dragged the trip on. We didn't specifically started off as chatty, you were cold and analytical, every interaction you partaked in was measured to a degree, but I didn't know that at the time... All I knew was that I was curious about you and your mysterious nature that seemed so drawn away from me at that point.

I took it upon me to start chatting with you although it wasn't hard for a conversation to start... If anything you started it, I don't know if you remember that...

"It seems the train is facing some issues..."

"Pardon?" I didn't want to admit it in that moment but I was so drawn by you that I didn't even hear you the first time, luckily you didn't take it the wrong way at all.

"We haven't moved..." You spoke gently as you looked out the window, I followed your eyesight confirming what you had said previously. We hadn't moved much since the main station which was unusual considering where we were. I couldn't help but pout a bit.

"Eh... Guess you're right..." I sighed softly and let myself lean back on my seat, you looked over at me with curiosity in your eyes.

"You were rushing somewhere...?"

"Hm?" I looked over at you with wonder. I smiled softly. "Oh, no... I just was a bit impatient to begin my journey I didn't believe I would start off so badly..."

I remember how you tilted your head to the side with a questioning gaze, almost a tad bit judgemental if I say so myself. "Your journey...?"

I nodded with a proud smile on my lips. "Yeah, I'm going to become a pirate and have great adventures, maybe make some friends too!"

I didn't know what you were thinking in that moment, you probably were shocked by the fact I didn't recognize you and just out loud said that I wanted to be a pirate in front of what at that point was one of the members of what was known as 'the worst generation' but yet... You hummed softly, a soft smile gracing your lips.

"A pirate...?"

"Mhm!"

"Don't you think that's a bit of a violent path for someone like you?"

"Hmph, it's only violent if you decide it as such..." I hugged my bag with a bit of a frown "I don't need to harm people or kill them... I just need to explore and learn a long the way in my own terms..."

The way you laughed at my small comment made my heart turn ablaze... It wasn't because it was unusual to hear you laugh but much rather because it...was your lips and mouth the one producing it. Although you were laughing at me I didn't mind, I just enjoyed being with you and making you smile... I thought it was normal at the time but I was so wrong... I wish I had realized that sooner...

I still don't know whether it was because of your company or because of the ambiance but I hadn't even realized at the time how long the trip had dragged on for... I just felt so comfortable chatting with you, you would listen to me yapping on and on about my dreams and the different people I had met with a soft smile on your lips, those rosy characteristic lips that spilled magic every time they opened... You were, still are, so straight forward with what you liked and what you wanted which was rare for someone like me who always switched from one thing to another...

"I just want to aid as many people as I can..." You said ever so softly, the characteristic sound of the can of beer opening interrupting your words with a soft tsk. I looked over at you from the top of my can of beer as I took a sip out of it, your words sounded so heroic... I didn't know who you were at that point for me you were just a stranger that had somehow up put with my shit and even willingly told me about your own shit.

I gulped down the sip I had been taking before gently smiling at you. "That sounds like a good reason to travel..."

"you think?"

"Yeah!" I beamed "I wouldn't be capable of doing it for one... So I really admire that about you!"

Your smile at that moment is still implanted in my mind, it was sort of... Bittersweet, almost as if you had remembered something or... someone, I'm still not sure who or what it was... Hey, Law, have you ever thought of telling me...? The mystery that held your brave, broken heart in chains...? The past that made you whither like a beautiful rose...? It didn't seem like it at the time but I'm not mad about it... Much rather it makes me admire you more.

It wasn't long before the train finally reached what, as funny as destiny is, was our destination... We, together with other passengers, got off our seats and onto the exit. I didn't want to end our meeting there yet I didn't even know if you felt the same

"Why bother...?" Was what I thought to myself as I got my bag and headed to the exit of the train together with you, you didn't even take any bag out, only your giant sword which you told me was named Kikoku. It struck me as odd yet I didn't think much of it... It was rather cute how you hugged that sword constantly.

We both stepped out of the train, I was about to say goodbye to you when I suddenly noticed two guys and a Polar bear walking up to you, you turned your back on me that time and headed over towards them.

"Captain!" One of the guys with an orca hat yelled out before saluting you.

"Captain...?" I tilted my head to the side as I watched the scene play out, both the Polar bear and the other guy with a penguin hat followed the orca guy in saluting you. You didn't even budge.

"Everything is ready to head to the Auction house!" The Polar bear yelled out.

"Perfect then let's get going..."

"Aye aye Captain!"

I was taken aback by the scene in front of me... My mind didn't fully processed what had happened until I saw our surroundings... Everyone was looking at you with fear in their eyes, some even wanted to pounce on you but didn't budge due to their will to live.

Hey, Law...

When were you going to tell me you were a pirate...?