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musubi-sama · 23 days

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“Classmates” Chapter 3

You end up spending all of Spring Break studying each other’s anatomy.

AN: I really want to go on this girl-date. Like, it’s just so fun and whimsical. Date or not, it’s on my list of things I want to do with a girlfriend. Here's the inspo for the outfits to keep in the back of your mind.

WC: 4.2k

Previous chapter

You awake to bright sun beaming into the room. Rolling over you check your phone on the bedside table, and it reads 11:17 am, Saturday. Rolling back, you feel movement beside you and look over to see a pair of half-open eyes staring at you.

“Mornin’ gorgeous,” Shoko says, with a deep sleepy gravel.

“Hi,” you say, letting out perhaps too much chipper in your tone.

“Oh no, you’re not one of those ‘morning people’ are you?” Shoko’s eyes shut as she tries to pull the covers over her head.

Trying to recall the events from last night with a small headache sitting right inside your forehead clouding your memory. You remember going to the bar, your boyfriend breaking up with you outside the bar, drinking a lot of beer, going back to Shoko’s apartment for wine, your first orgasm at the hands of another woman, a lovely bath and more wine, and wait, just how many more orgasms?

You groan as you reach over to the blankets covering Shoko, “do you want me to lie and say no?”

“No one’s perfect.”

“Can I at least raid your kitchen and make breakfast?”

“Be my guest. I don’t even know what food is in there,” Shoko rolls into you and leans up to plant a soft kiss on your jawline.

You return the gesture with a kiss on her forehead and then slide out of bed. Looking around, you see your discarded t shirt from after the bath sitting on the floor and toss it on as you walk out the door. You catch a catcall lobbed your way as you make your way out the door.

You respond with a flick of your hips and slip out of sight.

Shoko makes her way out of the bed and pulls on a short satin robe as she grabs a small clutch on her nightstand and steps out to the veranda. Shuffling through the clutch, she pulls out a lighter and cigarette pack. Finally freeing the stick from the pack, she lights the end and takes a drag.

A few minutes later you return to the bedroom with two coffees, a cup of milk, and a bowl of sugar.

“Oh, there you are,” you exclaim as you step outside. “I made coffee. But I didn’t see anything for breakfast in your kitchen.”

“Sorry, I don’t usually eat breakfast,” she offers a meek smile as she eagerly accepts the coffee and declines the milk and sugar.

“Bad habit,” you motion to the cigarette pack sitting on the table between you.

“Yeah. I’ve been considering stopping.”

Silence drifts between you as you sip coffee and take in the late-morning sun. As the caffeine innervates your brain, your jumbled thoughts start to reform into their usual confusing nest of twisted wires.

What was last night? Where does that leave you and Shoko? Are you bi or…? Drunken mistake? When can we go again? I was terrible at it, wasn’t I?

All knotted up, like a crowd of reporters at an urgent press conference. Pull on one thread, five others twist up tighter. You never had a problem with academic critical thinking and organizing your thoughts coherently. That was easy. Science has a logical start, middle, and end. But matters of emotions, those were pesky, illogical, and twisty.

You couldn’t blame your ex for breaking up with you, you weren’t exactly a good communicator when it came to your feelings. It was easy enough to talk about your opinions on the latest movie or video game, but to ask your brain to create a coherent thought about intimate concepts? Good luck.

Shoko put out her butt in the ashtray and finished her coffee. Crossing one leg over the other, her robe sliding down her leg to reveal a tease of her plush, bare, ass. The front open just enough to show off the soft dip in her cleavage. The movement and subsequent skin reveals snap you out of your thoughts. Your eyes flicker between the newly exposed chest and hips as you bring your feet up to rest on the seat of the chair and you lay your head on your knees.

“Care to join me on the couch?” Shoko’s eyes dart to your lips briefly as she shifts to stand up and take her mug and clutch back into her apartment.

“Happily," you follow her back into the bedroom.

You feel a little shameless immaturity as you stare at her while she drops the robe for a pair of leggings and a t shirt, hair clipped back with a few wisps hanging in her face in just the perfect messy-but-sexy way.

Heading into the living room, you pull a large throw blanket out of the closet as you curl up on one side of the couch, beginning a long session of ‘What do I want to watch when there are nigh-infinite choices and no pressing tasks to complete?’ Shoko grabs her own blanket and sits at the other end, legs extended on the chaise as she pops open her laptop.

“What are you in the mood for?” you ask Shoko.

“Whatever you want, angel.”

Your heart skips a beat and you fumble the remote for a moment but regain your grasp. “Ooo a new ancient civilization video podcast is out,” you start playing the video. It’s a long, four-hour video and you’re happy to lounge and not over think things for a while.

After a while, you shift your position on the couch and notice Shoko has been typing non-stop. You get up, head towards the kitchen and return with two glasses of water, sitting down one on the table near Shoko.

“For you.”

“Exactly what I needed right now,” She leans over to plant a small kiss on your cheek. You can’t hide your blush.

“So,” your voice comes out cracked. “What are you working on?” you scoot closer to her, apprehensively closing the distance on the couch.

“Oh, just my med school application,” she pushes her laptop away and turns to you.

“Woah. You’re so smart, a doctor-doctor,” you look at her with puppy dog eyes as you praise Shoko.

“I wouldn’t say that, just a glutton for punishment and school I guess,” she shrugs and takes a sip of water. You giggle, perhaps a bit too much, at her response. An awkward silence descends between you two, just taking sips of water and watching TV, you are unsure of how to continue the conversation.

So, did Shoko really mean it? That last night wasn’t just a one-time thing? You’ve known Shoko for around seven months, and you immediately noticed her poise, grace, and sharp wit. As you spent more long days and nights in the lab and office together, you saw her brilliance, dedication to helping others even if it meant a longer night for herself, and intensity. You’d get coffee with her and find yourself talking more than her, but every time you tried to steer the conversation back, she’d come back with another insightful question or comment for you.

Growing up, your friendships were polite and casual, never finding someone to call your ‘person.’ You filled your time with academics, hoping that you’d find someone via school to share secrets with or to call when a boy did something stupid. To get coffee with or just invite over to watch TV and drink wine.

You were starting to think that Shoko could be that person. And maybe this is what best best friends do. They get naked and touch each other in that way that makes their brains short circuit, and their eyes roll back in their heads to see colors beyond the realm of man. Just classmates who study from books and each other’s bodies.

You begin to feel a foot slowly sliding along yours, then up your leg.

“I need a break,” Shoko pulls her leg further up and slips it over yours.

She pulls both blankets over the two of you, creating a very cozy situation. Under the blankets, her hand snakes its way to your thigh and gives you a light squeeze. Your mouth goes dry, mentally cursing that you set your glass of water on the table.

“O-oh, uh, yeah?” you’re not very convincing while trying to keep a level tone.

“Yeah,” Shoko’s tone is sultry. She shifts herself under the blankets and slides to the floor, settling on her knees between your legs. Kissing up the inside of your thigh, leaving goosebumps in her wake and each breath of yours shakier than the last.

DAYS LATER

“You’re…picking this up-ahhh-quite fast,” Shoko is trying to catch her breath as she recovers from another orgasm. Water washes over her heaving chest as she pushes off the wall. You gently remove her leg from your shoulder as you rock back on your heels and look up from your position, licking your lips in satiated lust. You slide your hands up her body as you also stand, arms wrapping around her waist, hands hanging loosely on Shoko’s lower back.

“I’ve had a lot of practice, y’know,” planting a kiss on Shoko’s pulse point, then trailing up her jawline, and finishing by nipping her lower lip and pulling back slightly before releasing.

Shoko’s hands resting on your cheeks, arms caged in by yours. She’s enjoyed these moments of submission, being cared for and worshipped.

Being someone for whom friends and acquaintances came to for advice and an ear to bend brought the burden of information. Hearing of joys and accomplishments, the mundane meals one cooked or ate, but also the stress in someone’s life, the requests for advice in handling a tough situation. It warmed her to be considered a trusting person, but occasionally the secrets were too intense or the drama too much.

Sure, she had her best friends, Satoru and Suguru, to lean on and oh she did. But they weren’t her person, the one who would lay in her lap on the couch and be vulnerable towards. And take a bath with her and wake up in her arms. Could you be it? Or are you just close classmates?

“Let’s get out of here, I’m hungry and as much as I crave your pussy,” you bring your hand around to lightly graze Shoko’s core. “I need something that’ll give me more energy.”

Sitting at the table with a plate of sandwiches, you take a sip of water. Shoko sits down across from you.

“Hey. I was thinking, the weather is supposed to be exquisite today. I’ve got this instant photo camera and I saw an idea online recently where you go to the thrift store and pick out a new outfit for each other then go take pictures. Sound fun?” Shoko points over at her desk where you see a cute blue camera.

“Oh really? Yeah, let’s do it. We both could probably use the fresh air anyways.”

Dressed in your new-to-you outfits, you hop in Shoko’s car and make your way to a field of wildflowers.

“I know just the spot. I come here whenever I need to clear my head and get out of the city,” Shoko rests her hand on your leg as she cruises along the twisty, empty roads. Rolling hills with budding trees fill your view. Houses dapple the hills; sky is clear with the occasional wispy clouds. You enjoy the clarity the view brings, understanding why she likes coming out here.

Growing up in a high-rise in a city with career-married parents, you rarely took vacations or left the city. Even in college, you stayed near home and never took trips over school holidays. You found comfort in the cacophony; but this view (okay, sure Shoko is part of said view) is tickling a pleasant part of your brain you’d not felt before.

Pulling up to a small dirt road, Shoko stops the car and you both step out.

You’re in Shoko’s chosen outfit, a forest green and yellow leaf printed wrap skirt tied at your waist and reaching down just past your knees. The top is quite out of your comfort zone in orange and yellow striped fitted halter neck top with a keyhole detail, crisscrossed across your chest and fastened behind your neck. She also picked out some dainty gold chain earrings and some thin coordinating gold thin rings. The outfit is finished off with a pair of forest green mules.

Shoko is in a stunning pair of mustard yellow high waist wide leg trousers with a black cowl-neck one shoulder blouse, exposing her left arm. You also grabbed a pair of thick-framed black acrylic sunglasses and faux-leather booties.

You take a deep breath and exhale, “wow the air is amazing out here!”

Shoko smiles and walks around, taking your hand in hers and starts walking into the flowers “come with me.”

Following Shoko into the flowers, you find a small clearing and lay out a blanket. You sit across from Shoko, and she fishes in her satchel for her camera.

“I’m…I’m not really a ‘take pictures of me’ type of person…” you look down at your hands sitting in your lap, starting to fidget slightly.

“It’ll just be for our eyes only. And I’ll help you feel your best the entire time,” Shoko reassures you as she holds the camera to the side of her face. “Now, the best way to start is to make you laugh!

Remember at the bar last week when Mahito tripped over the step?”

“Oh, and then his beer spilled all down- “

“Right? And he grabbed the napkin to clean it up but then they- “

You both burst into laughter, and you hear the first click of the camera and a mechanical whirr as the photo begins to print. You continue chattering away while you wait for the photo to emerge and develop. Shoko gives it a shake and you lean over to look.

“Oh, I really like that one!” you give a surprised smile. Shoko just looks up at you while you examine the photo. She puts it next to her and readies the camera again.

“Can you daydream at night?” Shoko asks a sudden question, and you shift into an inquisitive expression.

*click whirr*

The questions and conversation continue as you trade the camera back and forth telling jokes, revealing shower thoughts, and watching the flower rustle in the light breeze. Clicking and whirring continue as the stack of photos piles up.

“I can’t stop thinking about kissing you,” you say, looking out through the flowers and sky after several clicks of the camera.

“Well, are you going to do something about that?” Shoko pulls the camera away from her face.

You push her legs so you can slot in between them and sit with your back to hers. You’re partially laying down, looking up at her.

*click whirr*

When it comes out, you gasp and lean up to kiss her on the cheek.

*click whirr giggles*

“Which med schools are you applying to? Maybe if we’re lucky we could, y’know, keep being classmates…” you trail off, an inflection of question in your tone as you settle your head against her shoulder.

“Is that so?” Shoko looks down, her expression unreadable.

“Ah well, we don’t have to. I just thought maybe…”

“You’re so easy to fluster,” she lands a kiss on the top of your head.

“I’d love to continue to med school with you. I didn’t realize you were planning on applying,” Shoko swipes a stray hair out of your face.

“I didn’t really plan on it till about a month ago. But I think I’ve got the professional references, and the application isn’t all too dissimilar to grad school. The hard part will be the MCATs, but I think it’ll be manageable. Unless…you’re trying to go to a really difficult school?”

“Oh god no. I’m only applying to schools I know I have a real chance at attending, and they all have modest bars of entry. I’ve seen your work in the lab, you’ll have an easier time than me!”

*click whirr*

At this point, the sun is setting, and you’ve lost the golden rays. But you’ve both given up on taking more photos, opting to lay down on the blanket, Shoko resting her head on your stomach. You’re lost in the conversation, it continues free-flowing and meandering. The questions tickling the far-reaches of your brain, talking about concepts you’ve never spoken about to a person before. A few threads in your brain untangling. Despite of the chilly spring air falling over the two of you, you feel a warmth spreading from your chest and a sense of serenity.

Eventually Shoko checks her watch and it’s well into the evening.

“We should probably head back now. Do you want to stay one more night?” Shoko sits up slightly and reaches a hand up to your cheek.

“If you’ll have me,” you reach your hand up to hold hers.

“Oh, gladly,” Shoko chuckles softly and for a brief flash you see a wisp of lust float through her eyes.

Returning to Shoko’s apartment, with bags of fast food in your arms, you both settle onto the floor around the coffee table and turn on some reality TV while you eat dinner.

After throwing away the final trash in the kitchen, you feel a pair of arms wrap around you from behind and a soft kiss planted on your neck. Before you can pull your arms around to grasp the ones around your waist, they’ve snaked their way up your abdomen and are clutching your breasts in your striped top.

“You look even better in this than I expected,” Shoko squeezes both hands, attempting to grasp all of your chest in her hands. You let out a soft moan and acquiesce into another kiss on your neck.

“Those pants make your legs go on for days, babe,” you reach back to grab Shoko’s ass. Her eyes roll to the back of her head at hearing the petname, simple as it is.

Shoko spins you around, leaning you against the counter, and immediately plants her lips on yours. She gets aggressive, biting and pulling on your lower lip. Her hands threading through your hair, giving a small tug with the bite.

You pull your head back and then aim right at her neck. You latch on and suck until you hear a moan and release your lips. Satisfied with yourself for leaving a deep mark. Your hands finding their way back to her ass and squeeze again, rubbing up and down, cupping them from underneath.

You continue to makeout with Shoko, tongues sliding around each other, puffy lips nipping at anything they can reach, both sets of hands roaming wildly across each other’s bodies, until Shoko lifts you up onto the counter. She slots in between your legs while finding the seam of your wrap skirt. Shoko peels it back and you spread your legs further.

She crouches down and plants light kisses up the inside of your thigh, hands sliding up along with her lips little by little. A trail of goosebumps in her wake. Her soft nose bumps your clothed clit, and you buck slightly at the sensation.

“Next time,” Shoko is panting lightly, “how about we pick out lingerie instead?”

She tugs at your panties, sliding them off and down your legs to drop onto the floor. Settling onto her knees, Shoko takes a soft lick up your quivering pussy. You lean back on your hands and throw your head back as you let out a long moan.

Shoko reaches her hand up, thumb rubbing lazy circles on your clit. Wanting to taste more of your sweet cunt, she begins to lick and suck, swallowing every drop that collects on her tongue.

Increasing the pressure, Shoko’s tongue touches every nerve that drives you closer to the edge. Each touch tightens the knot forming in your abdomen. After a week of fucking in every room and with little breaks, she’s figured out the exact ways to tease and touch, and the exact ways to turn you into a puddle.

Shoko takes her free hand and slides two fingers in with little resistance. Her tongue licking the outer folds, she turns her palm up and curls her fingers to slide across that spongy bundle of nerves waiting for attention. You immediately keen and wrap your legs around Shoko’s head, pulling her in closer. She moans at how needy you’re being.

Continuing to increase the movement and pace, Shoko looks up and sees your chest heaving and your stomach contracting. Your whines are getting louder, reaching fever pitch as suddenly the knot in your abdomen feels almost somehow tighter. As if Shoko has touched a new nerve, a string that has wrapped itself around the knot, squeezing it that much stronger.

The knot snaps and your hips launch up off the counter, leaving you to brace yourself on your arms. All rational and irrational thought ceases in your brain. All that courses through the neurons are the sounds of dialup internet. And for the first time in your life, you squirt. Shoko immediately latches on to your spasming cunt and swallows as much as she can, the rest falling past her chin. She stays attached to you until your hips return to the counter.

You slowly lift your head up, chest still heaving as your heartrate begins to normalize, and Shoko takes that cue to stand up and give you a taste of yourself. Moaning into your lips, she removes her hands from your oversensitive core, bringing them up to your cheeks, not caring of the mess it is making. Certainly, less of a mess than what just exploded from you. As your brain slowly starts to revive itself, you return the intensity of the kiss and sit up fully.

“What…what was that?” you are incredulous, pulling away from Shoko’s lips, but leaving your foreheads touching. “What-how?”

“You don’t think I haven’t been practicing for years on myself. Not to mention, we’ve spent how much time together this week? Surely you wouldn’t insult the skills of my hands?” Shoko pouts and puts on a fake hurt expression, exaggerating her last sentence.

“Oh god no.” Taking one of her hands in yours, you begin to clean off her fingers one at a time, wrapping your tongue around each wet digit. “Your fingers are a gift from above.”

You both giggle and Shoko feels weak every time you wrap your soft tongue around one of her fingers. Her aching pussy throbbing at each lick.

You finish your task and hop off the counter. Heading towards the bedroom, you sway your hips side to side with each step, and just before stepping around the corner, you look over your shoulder with your best attempt at a sultry gaze accompanied with a single finger beckoning at Shoko.

Shoko blinks twice, still in disbelief that you’ve spent not just one night in her bed, and not just coffee after classes or drinks with the lab, but a whole week exploring each other’s bodies, snuggling on the couch, and discarding your veils to just be yourselves.

Once Shoko arrives in the bedroom, you’ve already discarded your skirt and are attempting to work your way out of the halter top but are struggling to unlatch the buttons. Shoko approaches and the collar drops instantly with a flick of her fingers.

“Your turn. Drop the extra layers and go lay on the bed,” you attempt to sound commanding.

Shoko appreciated the attempt, and before disrobing, she slid a hand under your chin and whispered, “Oh I do love a woman in charge.”

Once Shoko settled herself on the bed, you climb up and face her, draping your left leg over her right and sliding your other leg under her left. You then start to slide closer to her. Once you are sitting within inches, feeling the heat radiating from her core, you reach out a hand to collect up a bit of what is leaking from her. You moan as the sweetness hits your tongue.

Bringing your cunt to reach hers, you slowly rub up and down, letting your arousals mix into a sweet concoction. You let your head fall back as you press harder, Shoko pressing back to you. Heavy pants are heard, but you can’t tell where one’s sounds end and the other begins.

The intensity increasing, Shoko’s head lolling down into her chest, chest heaving as your peaks approach. A sheen of sweat forming, arousal dripping onto the bed as you both push together and slip past one last time as your arms lose their strength and you both collapse in ecstasy.

Bathing in the afterglow, limbs still tangled, bodies touching in lewd ways, you slowly pull yourself up and shift so that Shoko can bury her head in your bosom. You thread your fingers in hers as you let your heartbeats even out together, keeping your pulses close to each other.

“Hey, I had an amazing week. And despite of how vigorously we relaxed, it really was relaxing,” you say to Shoko as you squeeze her hand for emphasis.

“I hope it helped ease the heartbreak,” Shoko starts to get up and head towards the bath. “Let’s get cleaned up and actually relax.”

#jen の stories #jjk smut #shoko x reader #shoko ieri #shoko smut #bisexual #“classmates”#shoko x you #jjk #jujutsu kaisen

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b-imbou · 1 year

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honey baby (SPOILED!)

Ran Haitani x f!reader | Rin Haitani x f!reader

Genre: smut & angst Notes: christening my new blog with a new series! I got inspired while listening to Kali Uchis’ TO FEEL ALIVE EP. The series is set in the 80s but the era isn’t really a huge part of the story. And it’s also set in Italy! There will be some dark content but all warnings will be added accordingly. Happy reading! Warnings: cheating, oral sex, possessiveness, masturbation. Words: 11.7k

Another gift from your daddy.

You’ve been getting a lot of those lately. You’ve been working under Mitsuya since you moved to The Amalfi Coast three years ago. But who paid for your travel costs and air fare? Papà. Who continues to subsidise your living expenses? Papà does. Suya often teases you, calls you spoiled. You are. Always have been, and you think you always will be.

Papà shouldn’t mind.

What use is being rich if he can’t give his baby girl anything she wants?

Papà wouldn’t mind.

What else would drive him to work so hard but providing for his favourite daughter?

Papà doesn’t mind.

His favourite daughter is his only daughter, after all.

He was willing, albeit a little hesitant, to allow his pride and joy to fly across the globe and set up a new life for herself overseas. You have daily phone calls with him. More often than not, the conversation is nothing of importance. Simply asking and telling how your days are. He visits, sometimes. One of the reasons he was prepared to allow you to move to Italy was that he had a valid reason to visit. He’s able to spend some time with his treasure and tend to one of his many businesses while he’s in the country. It makes him feel powerful. To be in the presence of men under his employ and offer a more hands on approach.

Your papà writes letters, though those are more cryptic. He relies on you from time to time to keep him informed on his businesses while he doesn’t have a physical presence in Italy.

“Diamond earrings, tch. You are spoilt.” Mitsuya smirks. “Spin for me, baby. Don’t be shy.” he instructs his client standing on a pedestal before him. He isn’t sure why he hired you considering you don’t do much actual work. But at least you’re good company and a good model for his clothes.

Your papà loves Mitsuya. He checks in with him whenever comes to Italy. He’d quite like it if you married a man like Mitsuya. No, not like him. Him. Just him. But whenever your father brings it up you can both barely conceal your amusement. You’re friends. Just friends.

“Aren’t they to die for?” you muse, sighing dreamily as you admire yourself and the twinkling jewels in the mirror in front of you.

You’re sitting crossed legged on a stool by the cash register, a pen in one hand and your chin resting in the other. The sound of your pen scribbling on the alabaster sheet of paper before you is positively deafening. Mitsuya is trying to keep his composure in front of his client; but she’s smiling as she notes the growing annoyance on your boss’ face. There is a clothes pin between his teeth that he’s clenching for more reasons than one. Resting on the balls of his feet as he works on the pure white wedding dress in front of him.

“Is that your papà you’re writing to?” he asks begrudgingly. You shake your head, not looking at him as you smile down at your whimsical writing, remembering to dot the I’s in your letter with hearts instead. He loves that.

“Careful, bella. People will talk if you keep secrets about men. They’ll think you’re sleeping with un mafioso.” the woman getting her wedding dress adjusted tells you in whispers. It piques your interest as well as the attention of Mitsuya, who scoffs a little before resuming his work.

“No way, signorina, her papà would have her taken back to the states if that were true. And… just, look at her. She’s a pain in my ass but she’s a good girl. Too good to get mixed up with a mafia man.” he explains with purpose, a small laugh punctuating the final few words of his sentence.

You look up from your letter, plump lips pulling into a rosy, red smile as an expression of truth. It’s enough for Mitsuya and the bride-to-be to leave you to your own devices. Finishing off the final words of your letter before kissing a crimson mark into the paper. You spray it with your favourite perfume before sealing it away like a it’s government secrets into a secure envelope. And you’re just such a romantic. You tie it all together with some string and secure a loose, dainty flower from the floral display sitting atop the checkout counter to it all. You write amore mio in the bottom right corner in small and gentle letters that you hope he’ll be able to read.

“Scusi, mi scusi, Mitsuya—”

“Si?”

“Can I go for a break, per favore?” you question. He shakes his head before instantly grinning as his eyes find yours.

“Whenever you come into work, your whole shift is a break!” he reminds you. It makes your cheeks warm and an evident bashfulness arises from within and paints your whole exterior. “Go, go away. Only if you buy oranges for me. I’m craving citrus.”

“Si! Thank you, Suya.” you beam at him, picking up two wicker baskets from beneath the counter and walking by him and the client before exiting into the sweltering sun.

You take your time, as you often do, walking slowly as to let the sunshine melt into your supple skin. It always makes you feel like you’re going to live forever, living this life. Taking it easy on the Italian Coast and doing as you please.

It suits you just fine.

There are familiar faces on your journey to the market; faces that can’t help but light up as they notice yours. Exchanges of ‘Ciao’ and ‘Ciao bella’ are swapped between you and each person you can’t help but greet upon seeing them. There’s no mistaking it, not from anyone.

You’re in love.

Like your father, everyone expects you and Mitsuya to be a perfect match. Though it couldn’t be further from the truth. Admittedly, when you had met Mitsuya on arrival to Italy, there was no denying an attraction between the two of you. You slept together, once… twice… five times, deciding you get along better as friends and more than happy to keep it that way. Your father would be broken to discover you aren’t as innocent as he believes you to be, but he doesn’t need to know. He’s halfway across the world, so whatever you get up to is more or less going to be taken to the grave with you.

“Ciao!” you greet the fruit grocer as you look carefully around the market. He smiles when he notices you. It isn’t lost on you that he has a crush on you, he has from the minute he set his sights on you, but your heart belongs to another.

“C-Ciao, bella. Can- um, can I help you with—?”

“Suya wants his citrus fix, Hakkai. Would you be able to fill this basket with oranges for me, please?” you politely ask, a soothing sounding tone emanating from your lips. He nods, gratefully. You’re so kind to him. Not because you want to lead him on, you’re just a kind, sweet soul. And Hakkai, bless him, he’s so shy. No matter how lovely you are to him, he doesn’t seem able to acquire any newfound confidence to talk to you. If anything, you think it might have made him worse.

“Yeah, o-of course. And, the, uh— o-other basket?” he manages to stumble out his sentence as he looks down at the wicker currently housing your love letter. You pick it up, holding the beautifully scented correspondence betwixt dainty little fingers. It’s brought closer to your chest, your heart. You smile shyly as you hope he doesn’t interrogate you over it.

“It’s a gift. So, I’ll let you fill it and make it look nice for me.” you tell him. He nods, stepping out from behind the counter with Mitsuya’s basket first.

He doesn’t normally do this. Fill the baskets of customers for them. But you didn’t know that when you first visited him for a basket of peaches all of those years ago. And, really, how could he say no to a pretty little thing like you?

Neither of you speak as he works, so you merely observe. You wish he had even a modicum of social skill. Mitsuya claims he’s real talkative when they spend time together, but how can that be true? Trying to converse with Hakkai is like trying to pull teeth from the gaping maw of a great white. Watching him do something so regular, so normal and mundane, is making you feel somewhat like a perverse voyeur.

You’re saved, thankfully, when an elderly woman who you’re familiar with greets you. She takes a seat on a nearby bench, and you feel inclined to join her. You talk for a little while as you keep allowing your vision to alternate between her and Hakkai.

“Are those diamonds in your ears, bella?” she queries, reaching her hand up to feel and caress your earlobes. You don’t mind, though. The apples in your cheeks swelling tenfold with pride as you consider all of the compliments you’ve received on them today.

“Si,” you grin, tucking your hair behind your ears for her to study them both properly. They’re glittering even more in the sunlight. Enough to blind anyone who looked directly at them if they weren’t careful.

“A gift from that wonderful papà of yours?” she wonders. Your lips pout but quickly form a smile, eyes twinkling with mischief as you hold her gaze and consider your answer.

“From my daddy,” you tell her. She clutches her heart and exhales yearningly at your response. Her eyebrows become a slight more angular as she uses her free hand to take yours.

“He is a good man, that papà of yours. If only I were thirty years younger.” she tells you, it makes you giggle. Your papà is a handsome man, and happily married to your mother. You don’t blame the elderly woman for having a crush. He’s ridiculously charming and well-to-do. He dresses smart and oozes confidence, earning the respect of any and all he comes into contact with. “Your grocery boy is waiting,” she points. Your head swivels to face him and he awkwardly waves when you notice him standing beside two baskets filled to the brim with fruit.

“Oh! I’m sorry, I need to pay for those. It was nice catching up with you.” you smile, waving goodbye as you walk over to Hakkai. “How much do I owe you?” you ask him.

“I-It’s fine. I’ll let Mitsuya know next time I see him…” he tells you, rubbing the back of his neck stiffly, unable to keep eye contact with you more than a few seconds. You ask him if he’s sure, and he insists. “Yeah, uh, he can take it out of your pay cheque or something, right? It’s okay, really. What’s a few Lira, anyway?”

You walk around the stall to give him a chaste kiss on the cheek. It’s walking a fine line between platonic and romantic, easily leaving room for the affection to be misconstrued by the poor boy. To you, it was nothing but an act of gratitude. You smile at him, waving a delicate goodbye as you continue your expedition, with no idea you were being watched the whole time.

It’s impossible to keep a low profile in such a tight-knit community. Though in this area of town it would be difficult to explain to anyone why you’re on this particular doorstep. Your heart beats quicker and quicker as you stand and wait. A young couple noticing you and gasping. They call to you, ‘Bella! It isn’t safe, here, come away from there and come with us!” with a prominent begging tone behind the panicked words.

You smile, easily, shaking away their offer with an almost flapping hand gesture. It’s all you can do to assure them that you’re fine, as well as speaking the words. And, of course, they’re too terrified to argue your naivety and risk sticking around a second longer.

The door swings open aggressively, with such a ferocious violence to make your dress billow around you as it follows the bracing breeze created from the wooden entrance.

“Amore mio, I’ve told you time and time again not to come here. Haven’t I?” and there he is. The objection or your affection. The recipient of your fruit basket and the romantically written letter you wrote all for him.

“I know, ‘m sorry. I wanted to see you, Ran! Wanted to say thank—”

“Come in before anyone sees you, come.” he demands, ushering you inside. Just as he’s about to close the door behind you both, a large palm flattens against it and pushes it open wider. “Rindou.” your lover responds to the brazen sound of his brother’s heavy hand connecting with the splintering wood. He comes inside as well, a usual intense glare on the younger sibling’s face as he walks by you.

Ran looks at you from the corner of his eyes, intending to focus more on his less than savoury roommates whilst in your presence. He looks at you properly, however, when you subtly clear your throat. He watches you raise the wicker basket you got for him with the love letter on top. He points to a console table for you to set it down on, and you look between him and the tabletop before sighing gently.

“Actually, Ran, they’re um—”

“Don’t tell us you brought two baskets of fruit and you’re hoarding them both for Haitani?” Sanzu questions you. Your gaze drops to the ground, he isn’t the leader, but somehow Sanzu has managed to solidify himself as the scariest member of the group.

“Leave her alone, Bastardo. My sweet bambina didn’t do anything wrong.” Ran interjects, pulling your body into his side, towering above you as his hand rubs roughly up and down your arm.

“Tch,” Rindou scoffs, leaning against a wall and garnering the attention of yourself and the other three men in the room. “Your little signorina put her lips on the grocer.” he announces, making you realise he had been hot on your trail likely since you left Mitsuya’s boutique.

“Scusi? Are you fucking kidding me?” Ran’s voice booms throughout the room, prompting Rindou and Sanzu to smirk at each other while Takeomi opts to retreat to the balcony for a cigarette instead. “You’re fucking the market grocery boy, is that a joke?”

“N-No! Not at all. Rindou, you’re making it sound awful. I was saying thank you, s’all. He picked all of the fruit for me and told me I could pay later!” you defend yourself to each man in the room despite having no reason to. You didn’t do anything wrong. You carry yourself with confidence over to the coffee table in front of Sanzu, placing the fruit basket and removing your letter to Ran from the top. “Help yourselves. This basket is for my boss.” you inform them as you walk back to Ran. He’s visibly irritated and his compassionate embrace has become rigid and uninterested.

Rindou swaggers from the hallway to the couch and rifles through the fruit basket. He picks up a juicy looking red apple, throwing it in the air once and catching it quickly as he brings it to his lips. Teeth emerge and a satisfying crunch pierces the skin, apple juice drooling ever so slightly down his chin.

“That basket was for you… and so is this,” you speak gently to Ran as you hold your letter out to him. You want so badly for him to take it, but he does nought but stare. “Can we go to your room?” you wonder, meekly, hoping he’ll soften as he normally does when you make yourself sound a might smaller.

“I told you not to come here. I’ve told you, so many times.” he replies. You gulp, carefully, nodding at your wrongdoing and outright defiance. His brother and Sanzu are looking over as they continue to eat the fruit you brought. Rindou has even put his glasses on. They smirk each time you look over, their presence is making every word you want to say evaporate from your tongue.

“Please?” you request, looking at him with pleading eyes. He nods, casually, lacing his fingers with yours after taking your love letter in his free hand.

You’re guided up the stairs and into his bedroom. The creamy curtains waving loosely from the outdoor breeze coming into the elder Haitani’s sanctuary. The sun is pouring through the open balcony door and kissing each and every object in his room with a grazing warmth. The Amalfi Coast air often consists of a lemon and jasmine flowers laced with the smell of the salty sea. Ran’s room was no different with only the addition of his natural scent intertwined with the hickory and sandalwood cologne he’s so fond of and his signature cigars.

He loosens his tie and kicks off his shoes, not even bothering to deign you worthy of his gaze just yet. Your heart tears in two when you watch him toss your carefully crafted letter onto the bed like it’s nothing. He lights a cigar with a silver lighter kept in the inner breast pocket of his blazer, walking out onto the balcony to smoke. You can only hope the fresh air and tepid breeze will offer him some perspective and clarity on what has transpired.

“Look,” you smile, slowly approaching and yet again tucking your hair behind your ears to flaunt your diamonds. “They’re beautiful. That’s why I came, daddy. Wanted to say thank you for my new earrings.” you tell him, truthfully. He smiles lazily, flicking some ash over the railing before taking another drag.

“You’re beautiful, baby. My pretty girl, they suit you.” he replies. You’re holding his hand again now, he recognises you’ll want his full attention and quickly stubs out his cigar, hoping to salvage it later. You pull him anxiously back into his room and to sit on the edge of the bed beside you. Your body rotates so that you can better face him. His legs spread a little as he rests on his elbows on the plush mattress beneath you both. “Well?”

“Well? Well… what, daddy?” you question. He obnoxiously sucks his teeth and shakes his head so quickly and minimally you would have missed it had you blinked. “I don’t understand—”

“Course you don’t. Pretty little head’s just filled with daddy, si? How good to you I am and how much you love me.” he declares. You nod, agreeing, despite it not being the whole truth. He likes to dumb you down, but you know it isn’t true. You’re more agreeable and mean more to him when he sees you as a little clueless and with no purpose in life outside of him. You don’t mind, though. You love him, after all. “I buy diamonds for my love, and all I get is a thank you? I think you can do better for me, baby,” he insists, his fingers reach up to tuck a fallen loose strand back behind your ear and lets his fingers trail and trace your jawline. His hand settles as his finger and thumb pinch the soft flesh of your chin and force you gently to better face him.

“Of course not, daddy. The fruit was s’posed to be all yours. And I wrote you… this,” you explain as your fingertips pad around on the bed searching for the letter you worked so hard on. You smile when you feel it, picking it up and practically shoving it in his face. “Please read it, daddy. You’ll like it, I’m sure!” you encourage him. He takes it from your hand again and inspects it like an art critic. His features soften and he can’t help but simper at the sight of your precious penmanship writing amore mio for him so microscopic he almost missed it.

“I’m sure I’ll love it, bella.” he nods concurring with you and recognising the lengths you’ve gone to with your little craft project. “But these are diamonds, bambina.” he reminds you. You nod, giving him your full attention as he talks. His fingers sensually caress your right earlobe as he inspects the jewels worth more than your life dangling from them.

“I love you, daddy. I wrote such nice things for you; I love you and I’m so grateful for the diamonds.” you express. His fingers begin to wander again, now playing softly with your hair, allowing his digits to smooth over the top of your locks as if you were his pet. His good girl. You suppose that’s exactly what you are. “Is it, my body? Do you want to make love to me, daddy?”

“In a sense, si.” he smiles. “Your body is of greater value than any diamond. I’m not in the mood to make love, baby. You’re meant to be thanking me, not the other way around.” he reminds you.

“My… would you like my mouth?” you suggest. He nods, finally, you got it right.

“Yes, my love. Your head is what is wearing the earrings, so you’ll thank me by sucking my cock. Let daddy fuck your face, mm?” he suggests.

Instantly, you’re nodding; you slip down from the bed and onto the uncomfortable tile beneath. He leans towards his plump pillows, picking one up and helping you place it beneath your knees. You watch him with a wanton dazzle in your eye as he takes his time undoing his belt. It makes him smirk, watching you wait so patiently and adoringly for him to pull his cock out.

It springs free, and your jaw lowers hastily; the expression not going unnoticed by Ran. His breath is heavy when he allows his cock to spring free. You’re hesitant to make a move without his say so, ever the obedient good girl. You wiggle on your knees, looking pensively between his dreamy lilac irises and his pink blushing cock. Only when you hold your stare with his, and flutter your long lashes at him, he nods his head at you. Go ahead, the gesture implies.

Oral sex with Ran Haitani is as much of a pleasure for you as it is for him. It’s a romantic, teasing dance in which you vow to make him feel good and that he trusts you to do as you’re promising. You take your time slowly rubbing his shaft and caressing his sack with the pads of your fingers, and even this simple beginning is enough to rob him of an almost imperceptible moan. They take hold, spread fingers guiding his tip into your mouth before slowly wrapping your plush lips around him.

And you’re cheeky, it’s something he loves about you.

You’re unable to refrain from teasing him to start, only encasing your lips around the tip before pulling off of him and pouting. Looking up at him like a sultry little harlot; the pout displayed on your face is to tell him that you miss it. You miss his cock as if you aren’t the one who pulled away. And you do it over… and over… and over… making out with his swollen cockhead each time.

With every painful neglectful pull from him, you return, taking more of his length into your mouth. He’s big. The biggest cock you’ve ever had, not that the number of those is particularly substantial. You’ve never been able to take the entirety of Ran inside of your mouth. And he’s never made you feel bad for it. You suck his cock like you were the person who invented it, so full of love and fervorous desire.

Your eyes flutter shut as you take him, getting lost in your own little perfect world that no one but you and he occupy. The sound of you sucking his veiny manhood fills the room with an obscene suctioning. With each suck you enact, tiny lustrous moans escape you. Ran makes a noise not too dissimilar from a gasp when he sees a lewd spit string attach his leaky tip to your puffy lips. He allows himself to groan in appreciation when you drool around him, your saliva drooping and connecting with the floor beneath you.

He looks down at you with a heavenly stare when you eventually open your eyes again, only doing so because you wanted to see how he’d react to you willingly taking his throbbing erection deeper into your welcoming mouth, tumescent lips protruding around him.

“Baby, heh, your diamonds are swinging while you suck my daddy cock.” he laughs lightly. You pull away completely while looking up at him, a wide smile overtaking your face. You had felt their movement but didn’t think Ran would have commented on it. It’s only fair they give him as much of a show as you are, given the small fortune he spent on them. The two of you share a laugh before you return to him.

You house him perfectly in your mouth, sucking him in completely. And he’s got such a messy cock, now. What, with you licking and laving all over him the way you are. The sticky sound of blowjob lips making a sodden state of his drippy, aching length is deafening. You begin to kitten lick at his weeping slit, looking up at him with lust-filled lidded eyes.

The corner of your mouth leaks, garnering his attention. A sinful mixture of your spit and his pre glinting in the sunlight flooding the room. It’s enough to earn another moan from him, making you want to work harder. You suck his cock at an ever so slightly increased pace while moaning around him, the noise gratifying him into throwing his head back.

Your mouth opens wide for him enough to look down and see your tongue, using it to lick the underside of his tip. Drool spills from your lips and onto the ground again in the process, holding your mouth open a bout too long. Lazy, loving eyes close once again as you continue, truly beginning to lose yourself in the moment.

Your head turns so that you can run your cute, desperate tongue along the left side of his cock to the base. Slowly… slowly… slowly… and then it returns back to the tip at the same painstaking pace.

“Such a little tease, bambina… Good girl,” he praises, smirking at the way your thighs squeeze at the compliment. You receive him past your lips once again, moaning around him. “Good girl, good fucking girl. You look so pretty like this, baby.”

You begin to suck, mewling with each and every bob of your head. Your diamond earrings move in tandem, an item so respectable and grandiose now laced with such salacious connotations for him. Whenever you move your head and they follow suit, he’ll remember that you’re his good little cocksucker.

And you are good.

He wouldn’t have hung onto you otherwise. He wouldn’t be buying you diamonds and defending you to his roommates if you weren’t a perfect cock whore. Despite only being able to take a little more than half of him, you’re still so damn good. You never fail to make him cum, never fail to make him feel good.

Your cheeks hollow around his tip, keeping there for a moment more than necessary as you bat your eyelashes at him. Like your mouth isn’t stuffed open wide with his heavy, cherry tip. And then you pull away with a dramatic pop. Ran can’t help but moan at the sound. You come back to him with your jaw hanging low and tongue pressed into the underside of his tip yet again. A copious amount of drool pours from you, enough to make a dripping sound when it connects with the floor tiling. He grunts at each sound you make. Every drop of salvia and string of spit that you create because you’re losing yourself to worship him. His cock, his pleasure, just him. You lick the tip tenderly, puckering your lips around the head to physically kiss it.

You love it.

You love his cock and everything it can do for you.

He still doesn’t pressure you to take anymore of him that you can handle into your mouth, somehow moaning more. Enjoying it more and more with each guzzle and sucking sound you produce and every romantic gaze you offer him.

Ran’s hand reaches down to cradle your head. His fingers run through your hair as you consume him, you’re almost too distracted to notice his hand is on you. The angle of your head alternates a few times to better satisfy him. Your spit slicken cavern is perfect for him. Every suck is composing a boisterous amount of noise. And Ran can’t help but moan loudly, loud enough to make pride bloom in your beating heart. And he’s moaning because he has done this to you. His cock has turned you into a slobbering, slippery mess. He almost can’t stop himself from moaning, carrying on when he sees you quicken the tempo once again. You angle your head just enough that he can see your cheek bulge with his delicate desire.

His free hand reaches down to hold himself from the base. Your mouth immediately opens to form a large ‘O’ shape. He guides his cock around your lips as if he’s applying a lipstick the shade of precum to them. More drool waterfalls out from your swelled lips while his large veiny hand guides himself from tracing around your top lip to smearing across your tongue again and again.

You murmur a mewl in anticipation. Entirely desperate to be stuffed with his cock and thank him in the way he desires for his oh so generous gift. He pushes his cock straight into your mouth and pulls it out just as suddenly, leaving you almost begging desperately for more. He repeats it, leering as you begin to lean forward to chase his cock for another taste rather than be teased a second more. You sink halfway onto him, but he slips his cock out again and urges you to follow.

“Daddy…” you moan, so whiny and needy for him as you follow after all. His broad palm holds your head in a very guiding manner, helping you find your way back to him. He wants his cock to return to its rightful place in your mouth. Your cheeks hollow again, sucking rapidly and pulling away to make the loudest squelching suctioning sounds you can, the pair of you can’t help but moan at the eroticism of it all.

You don’t pull away anymore, sucking and sucking as best you can. He sees how hard you’re working, how badly you want him to cum. But you’re being removed from him carefully.

Ran knew before you did that you weren’t breathing properly; you gasp as if you’re lungs are physically clawing to drag oxygen back to them. The loss of Ran’s cock is a crushing loss, you know he doesn’t care for whining, but you can’t help yourself. But you cease when you’re returned to him, thanking him by taking a little more of his length than you had previously.

Ran moans in sympathetic appreciation, hand lingering to brush your face, hold your chin, feel your throat.

His cock slides out of your mouth and rests on your cheek. He holds you assertively by your chin and leads you back to where he needs you; and you’re looking up at him as though Ran Haitani is everything. He holds you carefully, helping you along in what you’re more than capable of doing yourself. But you don’t mind. Why would you mind extra attention from daddy when he’s being so sweet? More slickness is formed inside of your drenched cavity, making his light thrusts sound even more scandalous.

“So wet, baby. Sounds like I’m fucking your little pussy.”

You moan for him and his naughty love language, head lolling from the feeling of contentment. Neither of you can help the raucous desperation you’re emitting into the afternoon air. His hips thrust a slight more urgently, fucking himself gently into your mouth. He moans passionately as he cums inside of your mouth. His cock visibly pulsing and twitching as he deposits his cum onto your tongue.

Your own volume lowers and slows, as does your performance. And for a moment, you still. Looking up at your daddy with a shimmering stare. His cock still pulsating in your mouth, his sack emptying all it has to offer to you. He holds your chin in his hand as though it were made of glass.

“Keep going, bella.” he commands.

Your head bobs and your earrings shake, allowing your lovers cum to dribble out of your mouth as you follow orders. A low, breathy ‘Ohhhh’ falls from him when he bears witness to it. His fingers travel from your chin to the side of your face, and then lets go completely.

Your mouth widens, allowing him to see all of his cum settled on your tongue. He’s sucked into you again, moving your head along him fast enough for him to force his cum to pour out of you. He watches on in amazement as you kiss the sides of his sensitive tip, coating it in cum. Two thick strings of cum ooze and connect to him, too heavy to remain and falling to the ground.

Spit and sperm bubble at the corner of your mouth as you lick and slobber all over him. You kiss down the left side of his cock, taking your time to show love to his cock with gentle affection. You smother the base in soft pecks, tickling him only enough to warrant a heavier breath and his abdomen to clench. He watches as you opt to carefully move to his cullions, lapping and gargling them into your mouth, all while holding eye contact with Ran.

“Doing so good, bambina.”

A strained moan exists you as you lick, cum dripping from your chin and attaching to his sack and keeps the two of you linked as you alternate between giving your attention to his cock and balls.

A long, heavy string of cum dangles from his cock. You gather it on your tongue from the bottom and bring it back to his length, massaging it over his cock. He holds the base again as well as your chin, wanting to be sucked a little more.

But if you’re a tease, daddy is worse.

He removes his length from you at a slight angle, echoing a bawdy pop as it leaves you. Ran smears his messy cock around your open mouth again, cum permeating your tongue and spilling from your mouth yet again. You keep your eyes closed as you feel him move his cock around your face. Your tongue begins to swirl, your only hope of searching for him with your eyes shut.

Ran pushes past your lips again, giving you the opportunity to suck. But, for once, you’re the one to remove yourself. It comes with a shocked, almost amused, gasp. You’re realising how much cum is cascading from you both. He holds his hand out to cradle your cheek, your head tilting to the left to meet his hold.

More cum gushes out of your mouth once you suckle on his tip. A thick, white creamy string of cum dangles from your chin. You resume making out with his heavy tip and hear your daddy chuckle above you.

You’ve dribbled some cum onto one of his fingers.

You move your attention from his cockhead to his fingers, wanting to get your daddy’s fingers nice and clean. He leers as you take them into your mouth, only his middle and ring fingers. Every inch of your daddy is so perfect, even his fingers between your lips is enough to make you moan.

“Messy girl,” he states. He had noticed another dollop of cum drooping from your chin. He takes his fingers from your mouth and scoops it up, fingering it back into you. “Such a good little sucker. Thaaaaat’s it. Nearly done baby, back to my cock now.”

He steers your face with the pads of his fingers back to his aching tip. You hum around him, making an even bigger mess of the two of you. You suck him as loud as you can knowing how it makes him leak and flutter when you do. You’re winding down, now. Hollowing your cheeks one final time to offer him one last lascivious pop, bobbing your head a handful of times before you calm.

You kiss his tip like it’s so heavenly delicate. A few feeble pecks before coming off entirely. The two of you an unseemly mess, completely covered in spit and cum.

“Thank you, bambina, you did so well for me.” he informs you, reaching into his pockets, eager to attempt to reignite the flame of his cigar.

You help yourself up, dusting off the pillow you’d been using to protect your knees before returning it where it belongs. It upset you to see he was more enraptured by his Cubans than your letter. He, once again, had cast it aside in favour of pursuing his own enjoyment. There’s a difficulty in understanding why he wouldn’t want to read a love letter you poured your soul into. You pick it up, carefully, holding it sweetly between your fingers without making eye contact.

He side eyes you, watching you without seeming to care about what you’re doing. And that is when you decide to leave his side; walking to the balcony to stare out at the view instead. There is a temptation brewing fiercely inside of you.

You want to throw the letter.

You do, but not really. There are tears in your eyes being fought back with a vengeance as you hope to God they won’t spill over. What’s the point of hanging onto it? He doesn’t care about it, not enough to read it. He’s happy enough with an afternoon delight of mind-blowing head. He doesn’t care about love.

Blood frosts in your veins as you feel his presence behind you, looming over you as you know he does with so many of his other victims. He’s paralysing you. You’re unsure how your daddy, who you know to be sweet and gentle, is able to instil you with so much fear without doing anything.

He walks closer to you, his arm brushing yours as he stands by your side. You observe him take a few final drags of his cigar before tossing it over the balcony. There’s a snicker from him when you yelp as he snatches the letter from your hand.

“Did I upset you, sweetheart?” he asks. You gulp shallowly, unable to respond as you watch him take a better look at your letter. “Ah… ‘amore mio’, hm? Did daddy make you sad for not reading your letter?”

You nod, a little dumbstruck. He holds your chin between his forefinger and thumb, tilting your head down to kiss your forehead. His left leg raises to rest on his right thigh while standing, pulling a knife from his garter belt attached to his sock. He slices the rope you tied around the envelope, making sure the flowers didn’t fall to the ground. Instead of discarding them, he tucked the flower stalks behind your ear and admired how your face seemed to blush in the evening sun.

He takes the letter from the envelope and brings it to his face, smelling your floral perfume infused into the paper. Ran unfolds it, but before he reads, his head sags. It’s as if he is disappointed in you.

“I don’t want you to see that fruit grocer again.” his statement coming across more as a subtle command. You mange to prevent yourself from scoffing, knowing it will only pour gasoline onto the flames.

“He’s my friend. He’s best friends with my boss, Ran.” you remind him. And at that, he does scoff. “I’m sorry I overstepped, today. It was just a friendly kiss! But there’s no way I can avoid him.”

“Your papa is a very rich man. As am I. You don’t need some little job when we can give you anything you want.”

“My papa would skin you if he knew we were screwing, remember. I like my job… I’m sorry, Ran. But I promise I’ll… I’ll make sure to keep things more respectable between Hakkai and I.”

Ran’s eyes roll gradually up into his head before returning to normal. He doesn’t offer a response, instead unfolding the letter to read what you have written for him. It’s a slow read, taking his time to read each and every word you’ve written. He smiles a lot as he does, making you fill to the brim with pride.

“Hm… ‘I’d do anything for you’, interesting.” he quotes. You keep quiet, not wanting to be reprimanded because what you had written was a lie. He finishes the letter and folds it back up, tucking it away nicely into the envelope. His hand holds the crown of your head before he bends down to kiss your forehead once more. He keeps eye level with you, not letting your head go as he decides to speak. “I don’t want you to see him, my love. Don’t good girls do anything their daddies ask?”

“I’m… sorry. It’s just, this isn’t something that’s possible.”

He nods, accepting your words. The letter is tucked into the inner breast pocket of his blazer for safe keeping. And then, before you can register, his hand is holding yours.

He’s guiding you out of the room.

“W—”

“You have to go. Clean yourself in the bathroom and then go home.” he instructs. You can’t say a word before he’s shutting you out. Literally. He doesn’t slam the door in your face, but he may as well have.

And now you are crying, running across the hall to lock yourself in the bathroom and shield the sound of your tears by running the taps on full blast. You look at yourself, eyes red raw and stinging from tears. And you can’t help but feel used. You’ve been used like a whore and tossed aside. It doesn’t take long for you to wash your face and tidy up your appearance.

The flower he’d placed behind your ear has fallen into the sink. You wish you never came here. You wish you never gave him that God damn letter or any of your time. In that moment, a temporary flash of red blinds your vision. You douse the flowers with water from the taps on the highest setting until they’re being swallowed by the plug hole, never to be seen again.

It doesn’t make you feel the least bit better.

You lightly dab your face with a towel and then decide to take your leave. When you leave the bathroom, you spy Mitsuya’s basket of oranges outside of Ran’s bedroom door. You huff, picking it up and trudging down the stairs.

“Ahhh, is the mob princess going home?” Rindou laughs at your expense, earning approval in sniggers from Haruchiyo and Takeomi.

“Yes, I’m leaving. Try not to follow me this time.” you bite back. Instantly you duck as Sanzu picks up a plum from your gift basket and throws it like a baseball at your head. A mirror shatters behind you, the reflective glass smashing by your feet.

“Watch your fucking mouth, princess. Just because your papa is in charge don’t go thinking you’re untouchable. We know how to clip people without leaving a trace.” he eerily reminds you.

“I’ve told my papa should anything to happen to me that you be the first person he suspects. He doesn’t like you, y’know?” you inform him. His teeth grit at you as he growls like a beast.

The commotion summoned Ran from his bedroom, who rushes to your side when he sees the broken mirror at your feet.

“Bastardo. Fucking dick. How many times have I told you to leave her alone?” Ran snipes at him. He only has himself to blame, of course the rest of his roommates were going to be crueller to you without him there. “Rindou, walk my baby home.” Ran insists. His request is denied in the form of his sibling flipping him off.

“I can walk home by myself, I walked here by myself.”

“See,” Rin speaks without looking at either of you.

“No, you walked here with Rin keeping an eye on you. So, my bratty bambina and little shit brother, do as you’re fucking told for once in your lives.” the two of you find yourselves ducking again as Rindou decides to hurl a peach at you both. More of the mirror breaks and rains around you. “AH! Dickhead!” Ran yells when he stands back up. He rushes over to his little brother and punches him in the face.

“Fuck sake.” Takeomi grunts.

Rindou punches him right back, both of their chests heaving with rage. Lavender eyes engage in a staring contest that has more at stake than just competitive loss. Ran grabs his brother by the shirt, pulling him up and throwing him to the ground. You shake your head, turning on your heel to leave so that you don’t have to witness anymore of this sheer nonsense.

“Ah, fuck!” you shout, realising you’ve been pelted with fruit on your bicep. Sanzu. You make eye contact with him, menacingly shaking his head at you. Warning you. Forbidding you from leaving the building without permission.

You watch for a few minutes as the Haitani brother’s continue to fight each other. They’ve broken the coffee table due to Rin pushing his big brother so violently he fell into it. Ran took a cheap shot, kicking Rin in the balls, forcing him to collapse to the ground. The two continuing to punch and kick the shit out of each other in the debris.

“Just fucking take her home!” Ran yells, punching his brother’s cheek.

“She’s your bitch, why don’t you?!” Rin responds, returning the same punch to Ran’s opposite cheek.

“Because I asked you, fucking little shit. And she’s not a bitch! Don’t fucking call her that!” he angrily replies. He wraps his hands around Rin’s neck and applies enough pressure to have him kicking and gasping, his whole face becoming as red as a cherry.

“Fine—! S-Stop, I’ll do it—!” Rin manages to choke out.

He lays in the broken remenants of the coffee table for a while as Ran falls backwards to sit against the couch. Both of them fighting for air, chests expanding dramatically with every inhale. After some time, Ran stands to his feet and offers his brother a hand up. They smirk at each other before Takeomi and Sanzu stand beside them. The other brother’s slapping them upside the head to put an end to the dramatics.

Rindou pushes his glasses further up the bridge of his nose and then he looks at you. Both brother’s approach, Ran kisses you on the lips one last time before bidding you farewell. He retreats to his room and leaves you to the devices of his roommates.

“Be a good girl!” he calls to you, shutting his door with a soft click.

Rin smacks your ass and guides you out of the door.

Looking at Rindou Haitani from behind makes you feel unusual. The inverted black and blonde hairstyle that he and his brother share is enough to make you believe you might be looking at the elder sibling, like you’re intoxicated and out of your own head. There’s two of him. An ever so slightly shorter Ran is walking ahead of you. Hands in his pockets and effortless swagger in his steps. Cigarette smoke lightly twists and spirals into the evening air, spinning until it ultimately dies in the breeze. You hear a noise spill from him. A grunt or a ‘hm?’ quiet enough to be a trick of the mind. But you know you heard it when he turns around. Round glasses helping you remember he isn’t your lover, not even close.

He's the younger brother that loathes you.

He grabs the fat of your upper arm flesh, pulling you closer to him. Rindou bends over so that he’s eye level with you. It’s another disparity from the Haitani that you fell for. The Haitani that you love with everything that you have. When Ran bends down to talk to you, to look intently into your eyes, it’s loving. He’s a good daddy, he cares about you, he worships you. He wants to protect and adore you, making you feel small and oh so cute makes you love him even more.

Rin, however, is intimidating. He isn’t scary in the way that Sanzu is, but he still manages to send a chill down your spine. There’s lingering undertone of mania hiding behind his dull, heavy eyes. He always looks so tired, but the smile is what gives him away. Lumbering eyelids can’t hide what a garish smile presents.

Anger. Insanity. Impatience.

“Walk ahead of me or beside me. Not behind.” he instructs. You scoff, picking up the pace as you decide you’d rather drop dead than walk by his side. It prevents you from seeing the way his face sours as his eyes roll at your petulance. “Am I so bad?” he wonders, knowing the answer that is already bulging from each and every braincell you possess.

You ignore him, instead. You’re a smart girl – smarter than anyone gives you any credit for. Why would you say something that could antagonise him when you can keep schtum and get back home without being bothered?

“Rindou, go home.” you tell him.

“Hah?” it isn’t enough to stop him in his tracks, but he certainly slows. He looks down and notices the way your hand is holding the basket full of oranges for your boss. Trembling fists as you take a tighter grip of the handle. “Are ya that scared of me?”

“’m not scared.” you protest.

“Oh?” he snickers. “Then why are you shaking like a fuckin’ leaf, piccola?” the volume of his amusement raises as you stop walking. Your shoulders drop and you can barely stifle the sigh that you want to exhale.

“I’m not scared of you, Rindou. It’s chilly tonight, s’all.” you fib.

Of course you’re scared of him. You know how much he hates you and would prefer you to be tossed over the edge of the docks with cinderblocks bound to your feet. Wouldn’t anyone be scared if they were you? To be loathed by every single member of the most prolific gang in The Amalfi Coast save for one, you wouldn’t wish that on your worst enemy.

“Bullshit. It’s boiling, one of the hottest nights we’ve had so far.” he laughs, as though your lie was so outrageously stupid. You suppose it was. “’m not gonna hurt ya. Your fuckin’ daddy scares the shit out of me. Think he’d rip my insides out of me while I’m still breathin’ and feed them to his dogs.” he smiles, it’s not quite a joke as the possibility is very real. But he knows he won’t hurt you, so that particular fate is not one he’ll ever meet.

He catches up to you, his hand settling in the small of your back as he attempts to push you further along on your journey. Your steps follow his, walking in tandem with him as he escorts you home. The smoke from his cigarette wafts in your face; a scent that has given you a pavlovian response to think of Ran whenever it invades your senses. An inhale that you had intended to be discreet becomes obnoxious as you allow the gorgeous, cancerous scent fill your airways. He hears a familiar sound. The sound he coaxes from many a woman when he has the time and the funds for one of life’s simple pleasures. Though he doesn’t think he’s ever heard it so softly. A meek, wanton moan as you imagine your lover. The things you have done and will do with Ran Haitani. All while he smells of burning tobacco and covers your body in nicotine kisses.

Rin smiles.

You’re quite cute, aren’t you?

He stays at the bottom of the stairs, observing each step you take up to your own house. You don’t want him here anymore. You don’t want him to watch you or to wait around while you let your guard down in the safety of your own home. But he isn’t leaving. He’s staring as you put the front door key inside the keyhole. He doesn’t stop when you lower the handle and open the door.

What is he waiting for?

“Did you need something, Rin?”

“Go inside and lock the door.”

You can’t help but smile. It’s a soft smile, though. Your features filled with warmth from the pink and orange sky and the fading yellow sun. The apples of your cheeks are swelling as you try to stave off your little smile turning into a fully-fledged grin. It’s sweet, really, that Rin is being so protective. You know it isn’t for your benefit, it’s for his brother.

He knows his brother is sweet on you. He knows how crushed he’d be should anything happen to you. So, by default, your safety is a high priority of Rin’s, too. Although… it probably helps that your father would have them all killed if they let anything happen to you.

“Get home safe. Goodnight, Rin.” you speak. His brows furrow, like you spoke a foreign language he’d never have any hope of understanding.

“Huh?” he sounds, the perplexity that he’s experiencing bleeding into his voice. “What did you say?”

“I— goodnight, Rin?”

“Before that.”

“Um… oh! Get home safe?” you wonder, what could be so perplexing about such a simple sentence?

“Ah, no one’s ever said that to me before.” he chuckles. “You really give a shit about me and my safety? Or are ya just sayin’ it?”

“Rin…” you exhale. “I love your brother, a horrendous amount, actually. He loves you… of course I give a shit about you. Contrary to what you might think, I actually like you. All of you Bonten boys, even though you don’t much care for me.”

He drops his cigarette to the ground and extinguishes it with the bottom of his shoe. When he looks up from the squished cigarette, there is a look in his lilac irises that you’ve never seen before. Empathy, maybe. A little bit of sorrow might be in there too, his gaze boring into your own and seemingly unable to break away. It’s intense, neither of you finding any words to say. His eyes fixated onto yours as the uncomfortable silence floods the atmosphere around you.

Rindou is the one to turn away first. His eyes squinting and teeth gritting for a split second before his lazily cool and calm exterior returns to him once more. He tilts his head in the direction of your front door, a silent instruction for you to head on inside.

“Go on.” he speaks, so mildly, the sentence could almost be drowned in a sea of the crickets singing their night-time chorus. “I’ll get home safe… goodnight.” he smirks.

“I’ll be seeing you… g’night, Rin.”

Your heart pounded a million beats per second when you closed the door behind you. You hadn’t expected Mitsuya to be awake. He’s lying on the couch, his back against the armrest with a glass of merlot on the tiled floor beneath. One of his knees is almost at his chest, his sketchbook resting against it as he sketches away calmly. His glasses seated at the end of his nose make him look so wise. You’ve never known anyone so relaxed and at peace when truly in their element.

“Sorry I—” you stop yourself, unable to continue when he looks up at you with such a positive warmth diffusing from him. He isn’t mad, he’s never mad at you. But still, you know you owe your boss an apology. “I’m sorry I didn’t come back to work, and I’m home so late. But… I have your oranges.” you inform him, bringing the basket to him and leaving it beside his glass of wine.

“It’s fine, bella. Grazie.” he thanks you, peeling one of the many oranges you’ve gifted him with. As he places an orange segment into his mouth, he turns his sketchbook and shows it to you.

“Oh, Suya… This is beautiful.” you smile, astounded by the stunning and complex design. He nods, the gesture filled with gratitude and appreciation. “Now I see why you’re in such a good mood! Is this going to be a new dress you fill the boutique with?”

“Nope,” he shakes his head, swallowing the orange piece in his mouth. “The most glamorous woman I’ve ever seen came by the boutique not long after you left. She told me she wants a one-of-a-kind dress for her wedding day, and that money is no object.” he beams, utterly ecstatic over the prospect of what this one client could do for his boutique.

He sits properly on the sofa and allows you to come and sit beside him as the breaks down his vision for the extravagant wedding gown. It’s so nice to see him like this, so truly fulfilled by what makes him happiest in life. You rest your head on his shoulder as he carries on talking, though your focus begins to waver.

Flurries of blonde and black hair invade your memories. It wouldn’t worry you, normally. What could be so bad about thinking heart-fluttering thoughts about Ran Haitani? But that’s just it. You can’t bring black on blonde on black to the forefront of your mind. Instead, the opposite. Blonde on black on blonde. Why? Why? Why can’t you get his lethargic lids out of your mind? His violet vision studying you like a he had seen a mythical creature in the very flesh. His hands gripping into your arm, violent skin so much softer than you would ever have thought. No one ever telling him to get home safe, so filled with anger and pain the very statement bewildered him.

Oh, he wants to be adored.

You’re fucking his brother, though. Aren’t you meant to be in love with his brother? So, then, pray tell, why are you thinking of Rindou as opposed to the one you’re actually screwing?

“She’s coming tomorrow.”

How did you manage to fabricate such a tall tale about a monster like Rin Haitani? He is a monster. But, you suppose, every member of Bonten falls under that illustrious title. Each and every member has blood on their hands. They are all cruel, cold, calculating. But for whatever reason, Ran softened for you. He let you in and allowed himself to love you and to love you in turn.

So stop fucking thinking about his brother.

“She said her fiancé is some hot-shot businessman.”

Overthinking such a simple thought will lead to your undoing, the death of your rationale. For once, just this once, you have seen a man you loathe in a different light. A man who puts the fear of God into you, in a way you never thought you would. He isn’t anything. He isn’t anyone, to you. He is only, and will be nothing more than the brother of Ran Haitani. He is not a man you should be fantasising about. Imagining what your children would look like and how you’d feel in his arms. Whether he’d kiss your body as softly as Ran or comfort you just as sweetly. Would he appreciate your love letters and thoughtful gestures more than Ran had, today?

“I think she’s marrying a mafioso, but that’s just me.” Mitsuya continues, unaware that you haven’t listened to a word he’s said since you sat down. “You hear me?”

“Hm?”

“Why don’t you go to bed? You look like you’ve had a hard day. I want you working extra hard tomorrow since you ran off today.” he informs you light heartedly. You stand up, and then bend down so that you can give each other a kiss on the cheek before you retreat to your bedroom. You knew he’d be spending another few hours lying on the sofa and sketching his design to absolute perfection.

You suppose you should be sick of the sight of Mitsuya. Considering you live with him and work with him, you’re barely out of each other’s way. But, alas, it doesn’t bother you at all. He’s the kindest person you’ve ever known and you’re happy to be sharing so much of your life with him and have him do the same. Of course, your papa would have happily funded a place for you to live alone if that had been what you wanted. But living with Mitsuya makes you feel safe. You can’t imagine coming home to a dark house and no one to keep you company. His mere presence makes you feel that much more secure.

And knowing that there is no chemistry between you makes you feel that much safer. It means that everything he does for your benefit isn’t disguising any ulterior motives. Why would he try and seduce you when you’ve already slept with one another? He just cares about you. It’s really that simple.

And that is why you have no qualms about sleeping in your room naked. Rindou was right, after all. The heat is sweltering. Fuck. Rindou. You’re cursing yourself for letting him penetrate your thoughts again.

It isn’t this deep. It shouldn’t be this deep. It’s not as if you have a crush on him. It’s not like you even like him, really. A slither of a somewhat vulnerable hidden layer in the younger Haitani has you positively reeling.

You can’t deny what’s beginning to occur at the apex of your thighs. The slippery slickness that Ran can summon from nought but a look in your direction. He can make you wriggle and squirm in no time at all. But Ran isn’t here. He’s barely even on your mind.

You can’t touch yourself and think about Rin.

You can’t.

But you are. Thinking about how he’d manhandle you and make your naked body his plaything. His fingers deep in your pussy while his lips latch around one of your breasts, causing you to cream more juicy goodness for him to use to his advantage. All while whispering obscenities to you, specific language that your papa would put a bullet between his eyes for using in reference to his baby girl.

It's intoxicating.

Picturing your fingers weaving between lustrous locks as you attempt to stable yourself and just be with him. Experience him. Have him douse his cock in your slippery offering before pushing deep inside until you feel positively full.

The sex would be so dirty.

So filthy.

And you cum. You cum and you keep on cumming as you cover your mouth with your free hand, knowing you’ll scream out in overflowing ecstasy and chanting a mantra you absolutely shouldn’t be. And that, you know for a fact, because it’s the only thing repeating in your mind like a broken record.

Rin.

Oh… Rindou!

“Rin…” you huff, desperate to fondle your own breast as you ride out the last remnants of your high. The fat of your thighs are so silky, completely sodden with your arousal. Your chest swells as your breath does all it can to recover to its natural rhythm. Your bliss surges through your body, aftershocks plaguing you as you continue to lightly tickle your clit.

When you finish playing with yourself, you assume a comfier sleeping position. Eyes feeling as heavy as Rin’s often appear now that you’ve made yourself orgasm, a sure-fire way to propel you into a paradisical slumber. You’re exhausted. Your mind is drained. And yet, your internal monologue can’t help but bully you.

How can you live with yourself? How will you sleep at night? Your poor boyfriend… You basically cheated! And you’re such a bitch. Of all of the people in the world, you touched yourself over his fucking brother.

You just came thinking about Rindou Haitani.

“Fuck,” you mutter.

You wake up late, unsurprisingly. Mitsuya has already left for work, the area he’d been working in last night now completely spotless. He’s so neat and tidy, just a generally wonderful housemate. There’s no trace of him, you wouldn’t have even known he was there if you hadn’t seen him for yourself.

The day is warm, as most are, prompting you to wear another little dress. It’s light and airy. White is your usual colour to wear, knowing it’s the best colour to wear in the searing sun. You leave your hair down and only apply a little bit of mascara. You’re late enough without doing a full face of makeup. Mitsuya is kind and understanding, but you’re sure even he will have his limits. You doubt he’d be pleased to see your face painted to perfection when you were meant to start work two hours ago.

He greets you warmly when you venture inside. The basket of oranges you got for him is placed on the corner of your desk, he and the woman he is chatting with each enjoying one each. Both of them are laughing and smiling, you can only imagine what is so funny.

“Bella, this is Signorina Gianna. The client I’m creating a unique design for.” he smiles, taking her hand in his as a sign of gratitude. She holds her free hand to her chest and returns his smile almost bashfully. She’s beautiful. One of the most beautiful women you’ve ever seen. You wonder if she might be a famous model, perhaps that is how she can afford to treat money like it’s nothing at all.

“I’ve heard wonderful things about your dresses, Mitsuya. I trust you to create something beautiful for me.” she tells him. She’s making a good decision, you think. No one knows how to capture the beauty of a woman through the artistry of clothes better than Mitsuya does. You can feel the love, preparation and adoration he pours into each and every inch of the clothing he makes. “My fiancé wants me to be the happiest I can be so he assured me that money wouldn’t be a problem on any scale.”

“That’s so exciting,” you tell her, taking an orange and sitting at the cash register to continue conversing with the pair in front of you. “tell me about him!” you insist, earning a chuckle from her.

“Tsk. Behave yourself, don’t be so rude.”

“Haha! It’s fine,” she assures him. “He’s so beautiful. Very work oriented, he owns his own business. We’ve been together for five years. I started thinking he’d never propose, but, here I am! He said he’s ready to commit to me properly and… he wants to start a family with me.” she grins from ear to ear. It’s obvious how in love with him she is. The happiness of others rubs off on you so easily. Especially when it comes to romance, you’re such a romantic.

“Ah! So respectable, wanting to make you his wife before having children. I like that.” you tell her. She nods, agreeing.

“It’s very important to both of us that we don’t have children out of wedlock. And I know the babies we have will be gorgeous, like their papa! Would you like to see him?” she asks you, earnestly. You can’t say that you aren’t intrigued, hopping off your stool and standing by her side. She begins raking through her bag as she searches for a photo of him. “This is us a year ago in Venice!” she explains.

“He looks familiar… is he from here?” Mitsuya questions.

Their conversation turns to white noise. He looks familiar. He looks really fucking familiar. You can hear your heartbeat in your ears. You can’t decipher whether you’re boiling or freezing. Your body suddenly perspiring at an alarming rate while an inexplainable chill in the air has you breaking out in goosebumps and shivering as if you’re in the North Pole.

“So beautiful…” you mumble. The look on their faces tells you that you’ve fallen a few conversations behind. The bride-to-be doesn’t know what to say, and Mitsuya isn’t sure how to recover the discussion they were having. Your eyes are dripping wet, sorrowful crystals inhabiting your lash line. “I need to… go.”

“You just got here!” Mitsuya almost yells at you.

“J-Just for a minute… I don’t— I feel sick.” you caution him. An eyeroll that is so quintessentially him is offered to you. But of course, it is always followed by some sincere kindness. A quick nod and tilt of his head in the direction of the door.

You don’t walk, but it’s not quite a run either. Not until you’re outside and out of their line of sight. A hand flies to your stomach as you try and keep your sickness inside. You’re fighting a losing battle, though. Knowing there’s nothing you can do to prevent the rising wave intensely rolling through you. You create a makeshift ponytail with your hair, realising you’re powerless to stop it. It’s humiliating. Vomiting right outside of your place of work. Where so many people recognise you. Know you. A man offering you a napkin and a woman handing you a bottle of water.

“’m fine, really. Grazie.”

You’re far from fine.

What a familiar fucking head of hair her future husband possesses. What an interesting style that you just so happen to recognise. It’s such a coincidence that her fiancé has dyed blonde and black hair. There are only two people you know in Italy with hair that colour. That style. And, fuck. Why has this happened to you? Of all the people in the world. Of all of the boutiques in the world, why did she have to come to this one?

But, more importantly…

Why is Ran Haitani fucking you if he’s marrying someone else?

please reblog and maybe leave a comment if u enjoyed this!!

#rindou haitani #ran haitani #tokyo revengers fanfic #rindou smut #ran smut #rindou haitani smut #ran haitani smut #tokyo revengers smut #tokyo rev smut #rindou x reader #ran x reader #rindou x y/n #ran x y/n #rindou haitani x reader #ran haitani x reader #tw cheating #tw possessiveness

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heartorbit · 1 year

Text

his whimsical ass does not remember

#ill draw something other than project sekai whimsical creature tiktok crossover sometime. eventually #i dont even use tiktok.#Theres something wrong with me #project sekai #pjsk #prsk #saki tenma #tsukasa tenma #average tenmas fan #Is it too obvious that i love draw sakis hair and fucking hate drawing tsukasas or

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majimasleftasscheek · 5 months

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Here’s a brain scratcher aniki, besides Kiryu and Kazuma-San what kind of parent would each of the main cast be. (Just the major players from the games IE protags and antags. You can include Ichiban’s party to!)

let's see...

Majima: good! but irresponsible parent. would spoil immensely, compensates for things he can't do or messes up. very open to whatever the kid wants/thinks but can be unintentionally harsh when scolding. promotes living to the fullest but will worry to the expense of his health when he can't be around to take care of things. will be overbearing with good intentions but suffocating.

Saejima: very nurturing and attentive but tough, a bit overbearing on the life lessons and shit like that. would leave a child to their own devices often to encourage individual growth and accepts failures well, very patient. would be hard to get a read on though normally, leaving a kid to guessing how he's feeling/doing, making his parenting feel a bit lonesome.

Nishiki: great with kids in a cool uncle sort of way. would be friends with his kids vs being their actual parent as he worries a lil too much about what they think of him. spoils them a lot, especially if it makes him look pretty great in front of others. doesn't handle problems very well and has only the basics of advice for a struggling child - would have to ask others what to do.

Ichiban: good parent but bumbling. would try his best to be a good dad but realistically good vibes and idealism isn't always enough. would rely on others for help with kids, especially if it's something he can't provide himself. would teach them to be kind and open minded, careful to not be too strict. would prolly relate the most to kids, being a child at heart himself though his personality would make it seem like he's not taking things seriously.

Ryuji: would raise a kid to be just like himself, brutish and confident. the type to be like, let's go to the junkyard and smash car windows for fun. values traits that align with his own like strength and a strong will - would be disappointed in anything he'd deem too whimsical. would think it's funny if his kid rebelled against them and teach them the hard way that it wouldn't fly but also encourage them to keep trying to be their own person anyway.

Daigo: would be a good parent to the best of his ability, compensating for his own experiences (Dojima lol). very patient and a good listener, excels at consoling to where his kid would feel very comfy telling him anything. can be a bit too soft and unintentionally ignorant to underlying problems a child might have. a child might feel guilty towards him for his kindness and oppositely *not* want to dump their worries on him. sometimes plays too much a teacher than a parent.

Mine: no lmao actual answer: he'd suck ass. he'd be a tiger parent, strict and cold. growing up is about accomplishment and being self sufficient. if a kid wants his time, better schedule an appointment. would teach a kid the harsh realities of life whilst ignoring the good stuff to temper expectations. punishments are often harsh. doesn't really relate to his kid other than they both breathe and blink.

Akiyama: do I even gotta say it ksdlagjlds he would be *squint* alright at parenting in the same way it's alright to drink bleach. he's there and he exists but is irresponsible. can't be counted on to make important dates on time or remember things a kid needs. frequently has to ask for help (Hana). will 100% give a child secondhand smoke and be skeazy about the types of life lessons he'd not necessarily teach outright but would imply with his behavior.

Tanimura: I don't got much of a read on him tbh but being that he's got a gambling problem, I feel like that would have some play in childcare lol, that being he's prolly a bit inattentive until it comes to money. he's a bit skeavy so he would prolly turn a blind eye to his kid doing something wrong and enforces rules poorly. would at least instill good teachings to help others, tho how, would be sketchy.

Shinada: he'd do pretty well I think if he had a stable living situation. he's very passionate about his interests and would share that with his kid, and if the kid wants to do their own thing, he'd encourage following that too. being goofy, he'd be a fun dad. I'm prolly the only motherfucker on earth who ships him with Milky-chan so I think they'd do really well as parents who come from rough lives trying to make a better one for their kid.

Sagawa: including him cuz he's my fav villain. he defo seems the type to have a kid somewhere with an estranged partner who left him first. he's caring, in a sinister type of way, one that makes you feel like you're being manipulated but not sure enough to say. "he knows what's best" and would for sure turn a child against his partner. in an alternate sense, he could also lead a double life, being an actual decent person to his family but a dickhead on the side. very psychopathic.

#I don't uhhhh remember a lot of the antags lol so I won't mention em cuz I wouldn't get a good enough read on them tbh #but hope these thoughts are entertaining to someone #my hcs #yakuza #ryu ga gotoku #I don't wanna tag all the names kdslgkjlgds

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moonstruckme · 4 months

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whimsical muggle reader who loves taking note of strange occurrences (i swear my shoes weren't here! like luna basically lol) and marauder bf who can't tell her yet about magic but loves doing some tricks for her to find. (you can pick which marauder! i was gonna go remus but i'm biased lol)

Omg I had so much fun with this, thank you for requesting!

Sirius Black x whimsical!reader ♡ 657 words

“You’re such an old woman, Moony,” Sirius says. “Is that a gray hair I see?”

“Your fault,” Remus replies mildly.

“We’re not all obligated to go clubbing whenever the fancy strikes you,” James argues on Remus’ behalf. “I’ve got a match tomorrow, and our poor Moony’s head is hurting him. Give us a rest.”

“No rest!” Sirius cries, standing from the couch as if he’s addressing a weary army rather than two reluctant men. “Rest is for the elderly and geriatric.” He looks at you hopefully. “You want to go out, don’t you darling?”

“I’m not partial to clubs,” you reply, but your attention is already elsewhere. “Remus, if you have a headache, you should have Sirius make you some of his tea. He made me some when my head hurt last week and it set me right as rain.” You glance at your boyfriend, considering you with peculiar smugness. “And the same happened when I had the hiccups a few days ago. He has a remedy for everything.”

James cocks an eyebrow. “Does he?”

You hum in prideful affirmation, but Sirius seems almost sheepish as he sits back down on the couch, tucking you against his side. “I’ve always been good at brewing,” he says to James with a shrug.

“You should make him your tea,” you urge softly.

Sirius kisses the side of your head. “Moony’s headaches are a bit tougher than yours, angel,” he says, adding at your troubled look, “but I’ll make him some later if he likes.”

“Hey,” James says brightly, “what if we go to the pub on fifth? It’s usually quiet in there. We’ll just stay an hour or so.”

You’ve been dating Sirius long enough to know how this goes with his friends—one hour will turn into four before any of them notice—but nod complaisantly at the hum of assent that goes up from the other boys.

“Let’s go.” Sirius hops back up before anyone can change their minds. He grabs your coat from the hook by the door, holding it out for you.

“Oh.” Your mood sinks slightly as you remember your coat. “I should probably go get another from my room. I tore that one yesterday, remember?”

“I fixed it for you.”

Sirius gives it a shake, signaling for you to take it from him. You do, looking at him in awe.

“Really, Siri? That’s so nice of you.” You feel along the hem of your jacket in search of the split you’d made the day before. You can’t find it, nor any of the smaller blemishes the garment had acquired after years of wear. “How did you do this?”

“I sewed it,” he says breezily, shrugging on his own well-loved leather coat.

You run your fingers over where you could swear the tear had been. “There’s not even a line or anything.”

Remus shoots him a look you can’t decipher, and Sirius gives you a somewhat thin-lipped smile. “What can I say? I’m magic with a needle and thread. Put your coat on, baby.”

You realize then that all three boys are already waiting for you at the door.

“Oh, sorry.” You carefully pull on your newly impeccable jacket, following them outside. “Thank you, Siri.”

“Anytime,” he vows, hand finding its way into your back pocket as James leads you all to the pub.

“You’re so good at fixing things,” you murmur, almost to yourself. “My coat, and when you glued my mug back together so well, and when my peperomia came back to life.”

Sirius chuckles. “It didn’t come back to life, angel.”

“It was dying,” you reason. “I couldn’t get it to stop wilting, but then all of a sudden it perked up.”

“You must’ve nursed it back to health,” he replies, and his tone is blasé but the smile he shoots you is oddly pleased. He gives your ass a playful squeeze. “Stranger things have happened, sweet thing.”

Around Sirius, they certainly have.

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cosmicjoke · 6 months

Text

I'm really excited about this extra story we're getting about Levi, so of course, even though we only have the first four pages of rough draft sketches, I want to talk about them, haha.

The first page shows us a shot of Levi watching his mother, Kuchel, and even from this rough draft, and the translated dialog, assuming it's accurate, we can see Levi viewed his mother in an almost ethereal light, his dialog talking about how the filth and rottenness of the Underground seemed all the more extreme in contrast to his mother's grace. Levi is looking at his mother from behind, and Kuchel seems to be drinking tea and looking out the window. It's almost a whimsical impression. The two panels frame her, from Levi's perspective, as almost angelic it seems. I think we can assume from this that Kuchel stood out among the general inhabitants of the Underground in terms of her comportment and demeanor. We know Kuchel came from the surface, only fleeing to the Underground out of desperation to escape the king's persecution. I'm guessing Kuchel came from a fairly well to do family and life, given the Ackerman's position in relation to the crown before they were perceived to be a threat and hunted down. We kind of get that too from Kenny's interaction with his grandfather, and how he reminded Kenny of how he used to dote on him.

By contrast, then, it throws Levi's childhood, having been born in the Underground, into extreme poverty and deprivation, into literal darkness, into stark relief. It would make sense that Levi would latch on to any crumb of beauty and light and hold that image dear and close to his heart, given the darkness and despair he's otherwise surrounded by, which otherwise defines his existence.

And that image of his mother, this idealized image, becomes only more understandable when we cut to the next panels and pages, and see the harsh reality of Levi's life.

He's getting beat up, and brutally at that. We see a full grown man punching him in the face, before he's kicked back several feet to crash into a wall or furniture or something of the like. This whole image really stands out to me and has affected me deeply, because it's such a stark contrast itself to the image of Levi we've come to know. Of course, when we first meet Levi, even in "No Regrets", he's a full grown man and more than physically capable of taking care of himself. He's, in fact, physically superior to other full grown men, and any physical altercation between him and others is, inevitably, going to end with the other party getting their ass handed to them.

But here, for literally the first time ever, we see the opposite. Levi's getting manhandled and beaten down, he's getting beaten up. We have to remember here, Levi is just a little boy. He can't have been even ten years old when Kenny found him, and given what the men here say about him and his appearance, I doubt he's much, if any older, at this point. The men talk about him being just "bones", which tells me, even with Kenny looking after him, Levi still isn't getting much to eat. I think we can extrapolate from that, that Levi was still largely on his own at this point and having to fend for himself. Kenny wasn't coddling him by any means, which isn't any kind of surprise. Also just the fact that Levi is there, surrounded by these men, on his own, seems to lend itself to that assumption. I don't think Kenny was around too much.

We also learn that Levi went to get back something that his mother was forced to sell to feed them, which again highlights how much she meant to him, how desperate he was at that point to hold on to the memory of her. He says earlier that her grace is the only thing he really remembers clearly from that time. I'm assuming he means the time spent with his mother. The few, short years he had with her. I think this is incredibly heartbreaking, that his memory of his mother, it seems, is hazy at best. That the one, good thing he had in his life is a fleeting memory. He's really just left with an impression of her. The fact we see her from Levi's perspective, from behind, not seeing her face, but framed in this ethereal pose, also seems to suggest as much. It would make sense then that a physical object which belonged to her would mean so much to him, why he would risk his life to try and get it back. I think that also highlights just the desperate circumstances of Levi's life, that something so small would mean so much to him. This need to hold on to the memory of his mother, even if he can only find it through this object. It demonstrates the deprivation of his life.

The other aspect of these four pages that's really devastating of course is what these men say about Levi and how they regard and treat him. I've talked a lot about how Levi grew up in an environment in which life was seen and treated as worthless, and how that makes his own attitude toward life, the way he values and cherishes life, so remarkable. And we really see that disregard for life played out and demonstrated here with how these men treat and talk about Levi.

They talk about him like he isn't even there, like he's an object. Their immediate reaction to his presence and attempt to take back what belonged to his mother is to kill him. They talk about cutting him up into pieces and feeding him to the pigs, and they brutally beat him. We can see on the third page that Levi is curled up in agony, face twisted in pain, his arms wrapped around his midsection from the kick he just took to the gut. Again, we have to remember this is happening to a little boy, to a young child, all for the crime of wanting to retain a piece of his mother whom he had to watch die right in front of him from starvation and illness.

The men then start discussing other uses for Levi, and most horrific of all, they suggest making him do the work his mother did, suggesting he's inherited her "talent", which of course means performing sex work. Again, this is truly beyond the pale, more so when you once more consider Levi's age. This immediately reminded me of what Mikasa went through too, being abducted to be sold into a sex trafficking ring. We have to assume that the men that kidnapped Mikasa meant to take her to the Underground. But Levi is already there. This is the world he was born into. These are the kinds of men that populate that world. People who are willing, without qualms, to brutally beat a young child, kill a young child, sell a young child into the sex trade. I really don't think people give enough thought to the nightmare that was Levi's life, to the hellscape that was his world.

Some people have the nerve to criticize Levi for his violence later in life, but when you're faced with the terrible reality of his childhood here, Levi's violence becomes more than understandable. When you grow up in a world like this, when you grow up surrounded by men like this, men who are willing to do to a child what these men are doing to Levi, and what they're threatening to do to Levi, violence becomes the only option. These are the type of men Levi compared Eren too during the raid on Liberio, when he told Eren he never thought he would turn out like the scum he grew up with in the Underground. Men who would hurt anyone and do anything for self-gain. This is who Levi was referring to.

The last page shows what seems to be the men standing around Levi, discussing what to do with him. In the last panel, we see one of the men leaning in close to Levi, seemingly holding him by his hair and smiling at him in what's obviously a devious and cruel expression, even in these rough sketches. Again, this is the kind of world Levi grew up in, these are the kinds of people he was forced to survive among.

I talk a lot about how Levi is really a miracle of a man, because he held onto his humanity, onto his kindness and goodness, onto his value for life, despite everything in his life growing up, and even into his early adulthood, doing its utmost to rob him of those things. And I think, from the few pages we get here, seeing just a taste of what Levi endured as a child, it drives that point home all the more. Levi really is a miracle of a man, because of how he defied the odds. Because of how he rejected what his life tried to force him to become. He could have so easily turned out like the men who are torturing him here. Men who have no value for any life, not even the life of a child. But Levi instead turned out to be exactly the opposite. To be someone who gave his whole life for the lives of others. That's incredible.

Anyway, that got a lot longer than I intended, as usual, lol. But I just wanted to talk about these few pages a little bit more, and how moving and heartbreaking and devastating they are, but how they also prove all the more why Levi is a man who deserves so truly to be admired. He's a good man, and he became a good man despite growing up surrounded by, and even reared by, bad men. Truly astounding.

#Levi Ackerman #Bad Boy #attack on titan #shingkei no kyojin

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icequeenbae · 8 months

Text

You Bet Your Ass (m) | BBH

Pairing: Baekhyun x Reader

Established Relationship, PWP, slice of life, fluff, smut

Warnings: explicit content, unprotected sex, anal (m receiving while being a drama queen about it), sex toys (picture fluffy tail butt plugs)

Word Count: ~3.6k

Summary: Baekhyun realizes that betting his ass for a petty argument with his partner was moronic. He is a man of his word though. He will follow through.

Author’s note: Yay, it’s time to celebrate another milestone!! Thank you guys for joining me on this wild ride haha I hope you enjoy this little somethin’ bbhorny times detected lmao This would be a little different rip Baek's ass but I just wrote that on a whim in a couple of days and thought it’s great for the occasion. Let me know if you enjoyed it!

Tags: @k-vanity @exo-writers-net @bbh-net @superm-net

Baekhyun’s eyes were rounder than the moon when he realized that he was wrong.

You were having a very out of the blue argument just the other day, and the fatal words had escaped his mouth.

‘Can you bet your ass that you’re right?’

It wasn’t even a real issue to fight about. The reason you got so fired up over nothing was alcohol, of all things. Neither one of you was willing to let it go and leave the other one having the last word, so...

Baekhyun fucked up.

‘When we confirm that I’m right, I’ll shove the fluffiest puppy dog tail butt plug up your ass and have you call me master.’

Baekhyun royally fucked up.

‘Might clamp your cute little nipples too.’

Baekhyun dug his own grave.

‘Or I will shove it up yours and have you eat your words.’ You simply rolled your eyes at him then, and to a clueless spectator it could seem like you’d forget about this petty argument by tomorrow.

But there you were the next day, standing right in front of your bed and drilling Baekhyun’s bloodless face with your eyes.

‘I told you it wasn't Bugatti. It’s number two on the list.’

Baekhyun was almost glad that you enunciated that, because he couldn’t see the screen in front of him. He stayed still for a bit, as if his soul had fled from his body, leaving him behind as a lifeless shell. His head was a vacuum, and his usually quick-witted mind was failing him at this crucial point of his existence. A few more moments passed before he slowly looked up at you, like a bashful child.

‘Heh,’ he laughed awkwardly, and you only offered him a perfunctory smile. ‘Rolls-Royce Boat Tail is more expensive? It seems like I’ve- made a mistake?’

‘You were totally wrong.’ You responded mercilessly, making him shudder.

‘Babe-’

‘Oh no. Forget it.’ You raised your palm, cutting him off. ‘I had to listen a-a-all night how ‘fun’ it’s gonna be for you to see me all fluffy-tailed and roughed up.’

‘I said no such thing!’ Baekhyun shrieked, quickly catching himself as you gave him a look. ‘Babe…’

‘Did you not?’ You huffed, crossing your arms on your chest. ‘I assume you also do not recall running your mouth about my nipples?’

Baekhyun licked his lips nervously and swallowed.

He remembered. He remembered how he initiated his own demise. Was he for real? And for such a nonsensical argument too…

Baekhyun dropped on his knees right in front of you, and you almost jumped from the sound of him crashing on the floor so dramatically.

‘Y/N-ie, I was in the wrong.’ He said, hugging your legs. ‘I’m sorry.’

When your ass is on the line, nothing would be beneath you, not even begging, right?

However, this did not faze you at all. You were so used to his antics that it only made you even more determined not to let him off the hook.

‘Oh, but Baekhyunie… What should we do? You’ve already purchased the device for the execution.’

This was the reason why Baekhyun avoided drinking as best he could. He didn’t just get himself into the most ridiculous entanglements, he also acted whimsically on his urges. Say, going to a specialized shop to buy the fluffiest looking tail butt plug and a pair of fluffy ears to match. He went as far as to tell the poor cashier that he was going to put it to very good use.

Well, he didn’t specify on whom.

‘Worry not, my love. I got some nipple clamps and a collar to complete your-’

‘Ba-abe-’ He muttered desperately into your thigh, hugging your hips even tighter. ‘Please, I can’t do it…’

‘Why is that?’ You huffed, although unable to resist the temptation to ruffle his soft blonde hair with your right hand.

‘I just can’t,’ he whined childishly, offering no reasoning.

‘It’s funny how you assumed that I was gonna do it the second we ‘confirm’ that you’re right. And now you’re a groveling mess at a mere thought, and I’m supposed to be the better man?’

Baekhyun knew you were right.

He also knew that if he whined for a bit longer, you would probably leave him be. But your words left a bitter taste in his mouth. He was pretty obnoxious about this when you made the damn bet, and he was the one who initially suggested the punishment. And he was so sure he was right that he didn’t even try for a second to step into the loser’s shoes. He didn’t think it through, and now he had to stand by his word and meet his fate like a man. This was only fair to you. Maybe a little less fair to his butt.

You craned your neck forward to peek when Baekhyun became silent for too long. He did make you kinda angry earlier, you weren’t gonna lie, and you were almost determined to make him suffer for it. But he was still your partner, and you loved him. So, when you noticed that he was getting way too stressed about it, your hand moved smoothly to pet his hair calmingly.

‘Baekhyun-ah…’

‘I’ll do it.’ He said curtly.

His voice sounded small and dispirited, and it took you another second to catch his meaning.

‘Huh?’

This time, he made an effort to sound more confident.

‘I said, I’ll do it.’

That exchange took place last week. And he still couldn’t do it.

He made an unenthused attempt on that very day, actually. Made a huge mess on the bed, trying to utilize massage oil to get himself ready. Instead, he simply oiled up all of the sheets, and his entire body, and didn’t manage to get the butt plug anywhere near his ass. He was screeching and wailing and groaning – all that without getting it even 0.1 inch in.

You felt like watching it was worse than just doing it yourself.

‘Babe, just give up. I don’t want you to suffer like this.’

‘No. I said I’ll do it, so I will, I just need to prepare. Shall we reschedule for Saturday?’

He had probably hoped that Saturday would never arrive, but it did. And even then, he had yet to muster the courage to take on his punishment with dignity.

But it’d been an hour, and you were getting tired of watching him huffing and puffing, crying about the injustices of life and his poor asshole. He was buck naked the entire time too.

‘I’m also cold… Why is it so cold in our house? Can’t we afford heating? I should try and earn more money…’

You sighed.

‘Baekhyun, it’s not gonna work.’ You stretched your arms and legs before sitting down next to him. ‘Either quit it or let me do it for you.’

‘You? Do it for me?’ He shook his head. ‘Impossible. I’d like to preserve at least some dig-’

‘Lie flat on your belly. Right now.’ You ordered strictly.

‘Yes, ma’am.’

You smiled at his sudden obedience. He obviously trusted you to help him get it over with, but preferred to be strongarmed into doing this. To preserve some ‘dignity’.

‘Just relax, baby. You’re way too tense.’

Climbing on top of him, you poured some of that massage oil onto his bare back. You ran your palms up along his spine smoothly, and Baekhyun grunted like an old man.

‘God, you are just one giant knot.’ You muttered, putting a little more force into it.

Another muffled grunt escaped his mouth, this time sounding a bit more like a moan.

‘Here, here, grandpa. You can entrust yourself to me. Both your back and your butt.’

He grumbled into the pillow, and you could not make out his words. Instead, you went up his shoulders to knead the back of his neck. This spot was always sore, and he did not surprise you by suddenly going tense and groaning loudly before deflating into a lax mess.

‘You know what, Y/N…’ He mumbled between sighs of contentment. ‘You can fuck me in my ass right now and I won’t object.’

‘That’s the plan,’ you giggled, satisfaction washing over you just from seeing his reaction to your touch.

Of course, you knew all of his spots, both physical and emotional. It did not take you long to turn him into a whimpering puppy. The only thing missing was the tail.

‘Seriously though,’ Baekhyun spoke up hoarsely. ‘I think I’m getting hard.’

You tugged your shirt off and leaned onto his back, allowing him to feel your half-naked body.

‘Good for you,’ you purred into his ear, chuckling as he squirmed.

Hand snaking under his abdomen, you found yourself squeezing his length.

‘You’re not ‘getting hard’, baby. You are hard,’ you hummed, giving him a couple abrupt pumps before running your oily fingers over his lower stomach. ‘Let’s get you ready.’

Baekhyun whined and hugged his pillow, while you crawled towards the edge of your bed to get the discarded lube. When you shuffled closer to him again, you couldn’t resist slapping his cute round butt.

‘Ouch!’ He yelped just for the sake of it.

‘Don’t be so sensitive, sweetie,’ you mocked him lovingly.

‘You mean!’ He answered sulkily.

‘I am very nice! And I wouldn’t start a quarrel with me if I were you. My finger’s about to be shoved up your ass quite literally.’

He was whinging again, but quickly recollected himself, throwing a blue glove at your face.

‘At least use this.’

‘Are we playing doctor?’ You teased him lightheartedly.

‘Y/N, I’m gonna die. I’m literally dying.’

‘Okay, okay.’ You capitulated, putting the glove on. ‘Drama queen.’

It wasn’t like you were a pro in this either. He was the one who had put you in this position, not that you’d asked to do this. However, you did use the time in between his last attempt to pop his anal cherry and today to gather some helpful information. So, you were intending on using it to your benefit tonight.

‘You will like it more than me, that you can count on,’ you reassured him.

‘I seriously doubt it,’ he grumbled before jumping up. ‘Ah-ah-ah, what are you doing, I’m not ready!’

‘Sorry, I poured too much lube by accident,’ you smiled sheepishly. ‘Lie back down before it gets smeared all over the sheets.’

He kept complaining under his breath but obeyed.

‘Can you like… perk up your butt a little?’ You asked, trying to find a comfortable position to start.

‘No.’ He shot back unapologetically. ‘I’ll die.’

‘Why do you keep dying before anything happens?’ You reproached him. ‘You are such a pussy.’

Baekhyun turned his head around dramatically to glare at you.

‘What?’ You stared back. ‘Did I lie? Am I wrong?’

He turned back to his pillow and slightly repositioned himself, bending his right knee.

‘Good. Arch your back a little too.’ You pressed on his lower back, and he grumbled again.

‘You hate my guts, don’t you?’

‘I love you a million, baby.’ You replied with a smile, barely containing a schoolgirl giggle from locating his asshole. ‘Wow, I didn’t expect you to prepare. How neat.’

‘Shut the fuck up,’ he replied, also laughing despite his embarrassment and frustration.

You traced his butt cheek with your index finger before rubbing his anus lightly.

‘Oh shit-’ He tensed up under the pad of your finger, and cursed again.

Giving him some time to adjust to the light strokes, you kept spreading lube over his sphincter.

‘Are you still dying, hon?’ You inquired. ‘Try to relax.’

‘I can’t believe I’m doing this,’ he gurgled into the pillow he kept holding onto.

‘We can stop if you-’

‘Just get it over with! And then I can proceed and finalize my death.’

‘What an honorable man,’ you noted sarcastically. ‘If you squeeze your butt like that, I won’t be able to do anything.’

He huffed like an intimidating hedgehog, and then sighed, giving up the last of his pride.

‘Okay. Just please don’t rip my ass.’

‘Have you seen the size of this plug? You’ll live.’

As soon as he relaxed enough for you to try something, you probed at his ring of muscles again. Praising him for keeping it more or less slack, you were able to insert one digit.

He was now only communicating in breathy curses, so you added more lubrication before slipping your finger out and inserting it back in just as carefully. It took a while for Baekhyun to get used to it and stop resisting the intrusion, and you were beginning to feel more and more like a doctor performing a procedure on him.

‘You’re doing great, baby. Two fingers in.’

‘Y/N… I can’t do this…’ He muttered feverishly, and you knew he didn’t mean it.

Frankly, he looked like he was simply in denial about enjoying this. But he had no idea that you would not rest until you found the most intriguing spot. It was the only reason you had agreed to the whole thing. You were curious about what would happen if you located it and stroked over it gently.

Like so.

‘A-a-ah!’ He jolted, and squeezed your fingers almost painfully.

‘What?’ You asked, unsure about his reaction.

‘That- what was that?’ He muttered, gripping the pillow case with his fist.

‘Did it hurt?’

‘It hurts now… But not before.’

‘It wouldn’t hurt if you relax! And I think it was your prostate. Didn’t know it’s that sensitive though.’

‘My wha-’

‘Can I stroke it again?’ You asked, enthusiasm reignited in you, despite getting rather stiff from the position you had to be in.

‘No! Leave my prostate alone,’ he barked, yet perked his ass up higher.

‘Getting mixed signals here. Should I read your ‘no’ as a ‘yes please’?’

‘Y/N…’ He whined, and you circled his spot again. ‘If you do, I think- I think I’m going to-’

‘Die?’

‘Come…’

You oh-ed in surprise. Not that you didn’t do your research, but the pace of this was unexpected.

‘Not yet. There’s one little thing left.’

You slowly slipped your fingers out of him, making him groan.

Finally, the intricate sex toy was in your hand, ready to be deployed. In several modes too, but your wrought-up partner didn’t need to know just yet. Thus, you had placed an important appliance under one of the pillows earlier.

After holding it for a few moments to make it comfortably warm – Baekhyun was a whiny little bitch, after all – you spread a sufficient amount of lube on it to make sure it’d fit easily.

Baekhyun could be heard cursing again.

‘Okay, come to momma.’

He emitted a growl, which thinned out into a whine.

You sat next to him and stroked his butt cheeks. Now that you were thinking of it, he would look pretty good with a fluffy tail. You didn’t know you had it in you, but now you certainly felt aroused at the thought of pulling at it as he fucked you. Wouldn’t that be just perfect?

‘Shit, it’s cold!’ He complained as soon as you pressed the metal body of the plug to his hole.

‘You are very high-maintenance, did you know that?’ You complained right back. ‘Take it if you wanna finish tonight.’

‘Why do you hate me so mu- a-ah-’

The plug slipped into him with much less resistance than you’d anticipated, and all that was visible now was the tail.

‘How is it?’ You asked, genuinely curious. ‘Baekhyunie? How does it feel?’

He kept breathing through it for another minute, and then managed to retort.

‘Like it doesn’t belong there…’ He tried to glance at his poor ass, but gave up halfway. ‘My life is a joke…’

‘I bet it is.’

He made an effort to glare at you.

‘Get over here.’ His angelic blond hair made him appear much less menacing than he wanted to.

You stretched out next to him, but not before removing the rest of your clothes to become equally as naked.

‘Fuck.’ Baekhyun cursed, burying his face in your breasts. ‘Remind me to never argue with you again, ever…’

‘I thought you were having fun,’ you ruffled his hair a bit, while he was letting you.

‘Yah. The pain in my butt hole isn’t really aligning with my idea of fun.’

You shoved him back slightly to get him off your chest, and groped his ass. The disturbance made him flinch, although not entirely displeased.

‘How would you react if I told you that this cute fluffy thing actually has a pretty handy remote?’

The blond looked confused, but only for a second – before you gripped at the base of his ‘tail’ and angled it.

‘Ah! Fuck this shit!’ Baekhyun moan-yelled, confirming that the toy was damn near his spot.

Chuckling at this, you leaned in to kiss his bare shoulder and reached under the pillow in the search of the said appliance.

‘There it is.’ You showed Baekhyun the remote. ‘I bet this will be nice.’

You clicked once, not giving your partner a chance to say anything.

‘Oh shit-’ He jolted in your arms, and clenched his jaw. ‘Y/N…’

‘I know, baby. I won’t ramp it up much.’ You promised, pressing your index finger to one of his nipples.

The tiny bud was firm, and you could see Baekhyun shiver from the touch.

‘Should’ve clamped them in the beginning…’ You mused, gradually increasing the vibration of the toy. ‘Does this feel alright?’

Baekhyun moaned in response.

‘I’ll take that as a yes,’ you snickered.

He didn’t let you laugh for much longer though, grabbing your waist and pushing you back down. Opening your legs roughly, he got between them and instantly pressed his hard cock against your labia.

‘Fucking hell-’ He gritted out, as soon as his hips snapped forward, disturbing the plug inside him.

‘This is kinda hot, I’m not gonna lie,’ you sighed, stroking his lower back. ‘Move or I will level your ass massage up again.’

‘Fuck no, I already feel like I could come…’ Baekhyun replied quickly, slowly retracting his pelvis before swaying it into you. ‘Shit, Y/N, it just feels so weird-’

‘Weird but nice, right?’ You lowered your hand to tug on his ‘tail’ again.

‘Oh god please-’ He sighed, dropping his head on your shoulder.

You could feel him shake every time you adjusted the toy. It was definitely affecting his prostate, and the sobbing he tried to muffle by your skin only confirmed it.

‘Babe,’ he moaned, renewing his slow thrusts into you. ‘You want my death or what?’

Snickering at his words, you playfully scratched his upper back with both hands.

‘Faster.’ You replied simply, grasping the remote again.

Baekhyun focused on delivering upon your request, and you physically shuddered with him. The vibration was quite literally driving him mad, so he was soon groaning in both pain and pleasure. His speech was incoherent, and you weren’t sure how many times you had clicked the button, but you could hear – almost feel – the vibration ripping through his tight muscles and abusing his prostate.

You knew his hips were moving on their own, more out of instinct rather than intent, but it was all fine. At this point, you just wanted him to finish. The buildup left both of you a complete mess, and the craving you had in you now was more of his euphoria, not yours.

‘I’m c- babe I’m-’ He tried to speak, but the intense sensation overwhelmed him to the point of squealing.

Readily clutching the remote, you pressed the button several times to avoid overstimulating him instead of prolonging his pleasure, and he still allowed a high-pitched whine to escape. He was trembling and writhing on top of you, and you could feel the hot creamy wetness pooling at your own entrance. The visual stimulation sent you into overdrive.

‘Fuck, Baekhyun-’ You moaned, eyes closing shut as you joined your partner in the oblivion.

It was at least half an hour later that you were finally able to untangle yourselves from each other, and free Baekhyun’s abused asshole. Not without him grunting and grumbling the entire time, of course.

‘Shit. I won’t be fucking sitting down for a fucking week.’ Your partner complained in a tired voice, flinching as his sphincter constricted again after the plug was removed.

‘Lying down is better anyways,’ you hummed, planting an impish kiss onto his butt cheek.

Baekhyun muttered something incoherent, and you were sure there was more diffident cursing in there.

You scooted closer to him and stroked his hair lovingly. Suddenly you realized that you did not employ all the inventory you had prepared.

‘Damn, we forgot about the ears and the collar too!’ You gasped. ‘Well, you can always wear them next time…’

You shrugged, trailing off, and turned to him, anticipating his reaction.

Baekhyun’s face assumed the most scandalized expression.

‘Next time?!’

Masterlist

A/N: Thank you for reading! Please comment and reblog, it is important to me and I appreciate your feedback💜 As usual, my asks are open~

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