I Love This Sm

Tells you to hold onto his spacebuns like handlebars n' steer him when he has his face between your legs.

NFSW—MINORS, AGELESS + BLANK BLOGS DNI

Sae doesn't want a significant other. he wants a pet.

Sae wants you on your knees with a pretty leather o-ring collar around your throat while his smacks the leaky head of his cock on your tongue. he wants his full government name on a shiny heart-shaped tag dangling next to where he clips your leash on. he wants to ruffle your hair and coo and aww at you condescendingly when you do something a little stupid. he wants you to eat up his commands, obey his word like it's gospel—like he's your owner, your master, your salvation.

Sae doesn't just want you to look and act like his brainless dog, though—more than that, he wants you to embody it. he wants to train you into the obedient little pet you were meant to be for him, which is why he wastes no time buying a clicker and getting to work conditioning you into getting wet at the mere sound of him pressing the button. he sits on the couch with his legs spread—and the second you hear it, you're scurrying over to him to curl up at his feet because you'd never crawl up on his lap without his permission.

Sae wants to watch you grind on his shoe while you nuzzle and sniff his erection through his pants. he mumbles go ahead, baby while you look to him for permission to roll his waistband down and desperately paw and lick at his cock. he wants you to whine and beg for him while he sits back with a lazy smirk on his face and watches you get him wet; he'll cup your cheek with his hand while you lap at him with tears pooling in your glossy puppydog eyes and tell you you're so good for him. only when you're scratching at his thighs—nipping at him while he tells you to watch those teeth—and babbling please, please, please will he tug you up by your leash to sit you across his hips.

Sae wants to watch you grow even more needy while he makes you rub your slick up and down his cock—he's so mean, he'll never just fuck you how you want. you have to work for it like a good dog; you have to hump at him like an animal while he denies you before he even considers flipping you over and fucking you. but when he does, he's gonna fuck you even stupider than you already are—you're stuck in a sweet downward spiral of being molded into his little toy, so good and pliant for him, and you love every second of it.

Sae wants to rough-fuck you until you're a dumb, drooling mess. he trains you to cum on command—only on his cock—with the clicker, and plugs you up with a fluffly little tail plug when he's done, regardless of what hole he's used. he wants to see the adorable, pathetic mix of dread and lust on your face when he thumbs the clicker in public or around his friends. he wants you to give in to your most primal instincts and senses with him—wants you to trust him so fully that you let him lead you through life with a domineering hand on the back of your neck.

Sae doesn't want a significant other. he wants a pet—but that's okay, because he pavlovs you so mind-numbingly sweetly into being his braindead, cock-hungry dog; he treats you like his baby, his sweetheart, his world. so, remember your place, okay?

tagging @saetiate with luv :x

I want you to myself

I want you to myself

I want you to myself

I want you to myself

I want you to myself

I̴̦̊͆ ̷̨̙̤̜̰̖͗͊͑̈͒w̴̧͈͍̹͈͇̤͊̄̀͊̉å̵̧̜̺̭̑͂̃̒́͠n̷̜̪͍̝̈͐̍͑͛̓̌t̴̛̰͋̃̈́̓̍̃ ̷̳͖̯͕̃y̸͇̝̞̺̝͔͛͊̓̓͜͝o̸̡̟͙̥̹̱̜̅́́u̴̧̱͈̯̜̟̔̌̈́͂̅ ̷̢̭̟̘̗̄͝͝ț̴͊́̋ö̶̩̿͋̓̓̿̀ ̴̛͇̫̑̃m̵̹̀̃̐̅͠ÿ̴̟͈̠͈͍͍̪́͛̚s̵̮̩̰͖̲͓͎͗̍̚͝è̸͙̈́͝l̵͈͉̿̍͘f̷͓̟̪͍͗̉͆͆̕ ̷̮͈̈́̌

im so obsessed with you that sometimes i forget other people exist. i wish it was just u and me

𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐈𝐑 𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐋𝐃 𝐒𝐀𝐘𝐒 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐈𝐑 𝐅𝐈𝐑𝐒𝐓 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃!

request: when their child says its first word with tokrev dads !!

ft. mikey, kazutora, wakasa, ran, rindou, sanzu

tw. fem!reader, fluff, children, domestic things

an. been missing my tokrev dads <3

TOKYO REVENGERS DAD SERIES

𖦹 𝐌𝐈𝐊𝐄𝐘

mikey groans when the alarm blasts through his room, rubbing the sleep from his eyes as he shuffles closer to a smaller warm body beside him. blonde locks splayed across their tiny face and he can’t help smiling at his little creation.

“when did you get in here?” mikey whispers, smiling as his son looks up at him, bleak eyes mirroring his own crinkle before fluttering back close. your hand slithers from under the covers, wrapping around your husband's waist, “he always gets in the bed when you leave” you mumble, pressing a kiss on the back of mikey’s head.

mikey gathers his son in his arms, holding him close as the toddler wiggles in his grasps “i’ll stay a little longer just for you.” mikey’s chest throbs as his son wraps his arms around his chest, struggling to hold on with the little strength he has but he just doesn’t want his dad to go anywhere.

“forever?” his son squeaks and mikey freezes, slowly guiding his face down to meet him, “y-yeah” mikey stammers and the bed shakes as you jolt up from the bed, “his first word!” you squeal, toppling over your husband to squeeze your son into a hug.

mikey’s cheeks streak tears, silently crying as you hold your son into the air, smiling as he repeats his first word over and over, you turn to mikey—tears forming in the lids, “forever, i’ll be here forever for him and you” mikey smiles, features softening even more when his son grins back.

𖦹 𝐊𝐀𝐙𝐔𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐀

golden irises watch carefully as his son chomps on his afternoon snack, gently cutting more pieces to place in front of his child, your body lingers over kazutora as you hand your son a bottle filled with milk.

you begin to turn back but not before a larger palms grips at your hips, “gimme a kiss, pretty” kazutora flashes a grin, squeezing at the flesh and you bend over to peck his lips, “i love you” you mumble through his mouth causing kazutora smile to grow wider.

“i love you more, angel” kazutora deepens the kiss but the shrill squeal of his son makes him pull away quickly, “what is it?” kazutora coos, his son clapping his hands together and gurgling incoherent noises.

“yeah? you think mommy should stay home today too?” kazutora laughs, pulling you on his lap and your hand coming up to wrap around his neck and the other wiping the drool from your son’s mouth.

“love” your son babbles, “love you” he adds, grinning at both you and kazutora mouth hung open—you’re left speechless as kazutora claps his hands together, leaning a hand over to ruffles at his son's hair, “i love you more buddy” kazutora grins and his son squeals louder.

“think you can stay home now to celebrate his first word?” kazutora smirks at you and you roll your eyes back, “only because i love you” you mumble and kazutora laughs causing his son to bounce back with the same amusing sound.

𖦹 𝐖𝐀𝐊𝐀𝐒𝐀

your husband has spent the last hour coaching his bouncing daughter to say her first word, giving her unlimited kisses and cuddles, sugary sweets but alas nothing worked.

“come on princess, say daddy” wakasa coos, picking her up to straddle her squirming body on his hip, she shakes her head throwing the chocolatey cookie in her mouth, wakasa sighs walking her over to you.

“hey mommy, want this?” wakasa holds his toddler out to you, smiling when her violet hues light up seeing you, “i see what you’ve been doing” you grunt, grabbing her and wiping her stained cheeks from the crumbs slathered on them.

“just want to hear her first word” he grumbles, slouching his shoulders as wakasa heads over to the living room, “mommy” his daughter giggles, pinching your cheeks—wakasa stops in his tracks, craning his head back in your direction.

“seriously?!” wakasa whines, stomping back over to you and picking his daughter back in his arms, “daddy, say daddy princess” wakasa begs, lip quivering when his daughter squeals back ‘mommy’—wakasa sighs in defeat but pulls his smile back when she grabs his cheeks, “i can’t be mad at you angel, i know how much mommy loves you.”

you walk behind wakasa, wrapping your arms around his waist pressing your face into his back, “she’ll say it one day, just give her sometime” you mumble, and wakasa pulls his daughter into a tight hug, “daddy” she grumbles through his shirt and you can almost feel the tremble of your husbands back as he softly cries at her second word.

𖦹 𝐑𝐀𝐍

ran has his daughter placed between his legs, watching a children's show in the background while his hands undo her braids. “you know angel, when i was your age i had my brother to torture instead of watching brainwashing shows” ran begins, looking over towards you on the opposite side of the couch.

“it gets pretty lonely being an only child, doesn’t it?” ran adds, smiling when you toss a pillow at him, ran dodges it easily, bending down to press a kiss on top of his daughters head, “she’s a handful already” you snort, watching your daughter’s body struggle to stand and jump into her father’s arms.

“but she’s all mine” ran chuckles, swaying her little body in his hands and smothering her cheeks with kisses, your cheeks burns from the smile engraving on your lips listening to your daughter squeal and babble when ran continues the assault of affection on her.

her little head pokes through an opening on his hold, pointing a chubby finger in your direction, “mine” she yells, giggling when ran scoffs loudly. “mine?” he questions, heaving her body in the air and bouncing his daughter into mid flight.

“mine, mine, mine” his daughter mocks, flashing a toothy grin when ran lowers her to dust kisses on her face, “mommy is mine, all mine” ran coos, even after all the years you’ve spent with ran he still managed to make your cheeks burn hot and body feel flustered.

“her first word” you say softly, climbing over to lay your head on his shoulder and pushing back black strands of hair on your daughters face, “i don’t care if she’s our baby, i am not sharing you” ran winks, wincing when you reach over to pinch his cheeks.

𖦹 𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐃𝐎𝐔

it’s the gut wrenching sight of his small child curled up against his side, snot dried on his nose and a wheezing noise rising from his chest. rindou wasn’t used to taking care of his son without your help but since the cold had caused you to be terribly sick as well—rindou thought he could manage.

rindou watched in pain as his son gripped his shirt harder, sniffling when he tried to shift, “daddy has to get up” rindou whispers, noticing his son flutter his eyes open and bore the same hues right into him.

“stay” his son whimpers, clutching harder against the fabric till his tiny hands turn a darker color and rindou can’t help but get choked up at the sight—added to the sounds of his son’s first words, rindou is crippling with emotions.

“i’m here, i’ll always be here” rindou croaks, cuddling up closer to his son, humming softly as he rocks him back to sleep. you smile from a distance, watching your husband delicately as ever soothe his sick child.

“you’re going to get sick being that close to him” you gently walk towards rindou and he tilts his head back to look at you, “i don’t care my boy needs me and i’m not going anywhere” rindou smiles, already feeling a chill run down his spine but he truly doesn’t care—rindou knows he needs to be right here for his child regardless of the cold stifling in his chest.

𖦹 𝐒𝐀𝐍𝐙𝐔

the first outing with his little girl and sanzu decides on bringing her to his place of work, showing off her uncanny turquoise eyes to his colleagues and a mocking laugh to have them feeling uneasy about how much she’s just like him.

“look princess, that’s ran” he tilts her towards the taller man, her face burying in his chest when ran walks closer examining the small child clinging to sanzu. “jesus sanzu, she’s the spitting image of you” ran laughs, ruffling her hair and sanzu pulls his child away.

“hey, no touching what’s mine. already had to explain that to you about my wife” sanzu growls, smoothing his daughter's locks back to her perfect pigtails. the younger haitani joins in on the gawking, smirking as sanzu coos at his daughter when she starts making a gurgle noise.

“daddy” she looks up at sanzu, his eyes grow in size with a gasp leaving his chest when she squeals again, “daddy!” sanzu struggles to hold her when she starts bouncing in his arms, babbling the name over and over.

“are you crying?” ran taunts, looking over at sanzu as tears roll down his cheeks, “y-yeah, my baby—that’s her first word” sanzu chokes, quickly stepping away from the brothers to fumble around for his phone.

“we gotta tell mommy what you said angel, she’s going to be so proud of you” sanzu grins, his daughter mirroring the same cheeky smile and clapping her hands together—it’s an odd sight from the outside, watching someone like sanzu glow as he calls you bragging about how perfect his daughter is.

I wanna break into your house

and cuddle with you in your bed,

and fall asleep to your breathing

DONT FUCK YOUR WIFE, FUCK ME <3

characters : hanma. sanzu. ran. note : 18+ — f! homewrecker reader + dilf! characters + oral [m. receiving] + cheating + breeding + half assed.

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using toji's cum to condition my hair

Talk Dirty To Me

Smau: in which you message them inappropriate things Warnings: 18+ minors and ageless blogs do not interact, not proofread Featuring: Gojo, Geto, Choso, Toji, Nanami, Sukuna, Ino, Shiu, Hiro

Title: A Good Dog.

Pairing: Yandere!SatoSugu x Reader (JJK).

Word Count: 5.5k.

TW: Non/Con, Fem!Reader, Pet Play, Wildly Unbalanced Power Dynamics, Bondage, Revoked Consent, Kidnapping, Manipulation, and Rough Sex. Dead Dove: Do Not Eat.

About half an hour into your first date, Suguru told you that he was an animal trainer.

He mentioned it offhandedly, filling in a blank you hadn’t thought to ask about, but anything more interesting than ‘financial manager’ or ‘digital entrepreneur’ would’ve caught your attention. “It’s nothing exciting,” he explained, smirking at your eagerness to pry. “Dogs and cats, not lions and tigers. It’s a good gig, if you’ve got the patience for it.”

About three hours later, after a main course, a round of drinks, dessert, a second round of drinks, and your waiter politely clearing his throat as he dropped an unrequested, but well-deserved check onto the corner of your table, Suguru asked if you’d like to come back to his place for a drink. You laughed, propping your chin on your fist. “I don’t know,” you started, a teasing drawl in your voice. “You’re sure you’re not one of those charming serial killers, right?”

His eyes darted to the side, his smile quirking. “…if I said I was, would you still come home with me?”

You were on your feet by the time he finished. “I guess I’ll just have to risk it.”

Ten minutes later, you were in the passenger seat of Suguru’s car as he pulled into a sprawling, rustically ornate villa. You fought the urge to whistle as his headlights fell onto outermost facade. You should’ve guessed from the restaurant, but still, you would’ve been impressed by a more-or-less furnished apartment. A countryside mansion was something you hadn’t even known to hope for.

It was only as you pried open your door, one foot already on the ground, that he told you he had a dog.

“You probably won’t meet him,” he shrugged, rounding the hood of the car to your side. An arm was extended and accepted – the gravel driveway quickly proving too much for your pin-prick heels. “Satoru’s a little shy around new people.”

“Satoru,” You repeated, more to yourself than to him. What a strange name for a dog. Must’ve been a purebred. “That’s too bad. I was looking forward to seeing your training skills up close.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t worry.” He rested a hand on your elbow, squeezing gently. “You’ll get a chance to.”

Admittedly, there wasn’t a lot of blood left in your head to think with, after that.

Your feet had left the ground entirely by the time you reached the porch. Suguru had no problem carrying you, and not having to worry about pesky inconveniences like putting one foot in front of the other meant you had more time to string your arms around his neck and run your fingers through his hair as you divided your attention between his mouth and his throat. You kept yourself occupied, pressing open-mouthed kisses into the latter as he struggled with the lock and stumbled over the threshold. Your back hit a wall before the door was shut, but you were beyond the point of caring, by then.

One of the many things you liked about Suguru was his size. Standing up, he was about a head or so taller than you, and bent over you like this, supporting you with little more than the tension of his body pressed into yours, he seemed to eclipse you entirely; dark hair cutting off your vision, large hands wrapping around your thighs, teeth that were more similar to the fangs of some great, terrible animal than anything human ghosting over the curve of your throat. You felt his chest slot against yours, pinning you against the wall as distracted fingers fumbled with the zipper of your dress, and his head dipped, mouth latching onto the slope of your shoulder in a slow, bruising love-bite. The process was painstaking and noisy, the joint sounds of his breathy moans and your whimpers enough to fill the entryway twice-over. Really, it was a wonder you managed to hear the footsteps at all.

It wasn’t that your attention drifted, just that you couldn’t stop yourself from acting on reflex. You heard padding footsteps, the metal ting, ting, ting of swinging tags, and raised your head, unconsciously searching for a dog, a pet, an animal. And, in a way, you found one. Honestly, it took you a beat too long to realize that what you were looking at wasn’t an animal – lean and pale, peering tentatively around the corner as he made his way down the staircase that led further into the villa. White leather faded into pale skin, crossing over his chest and wrapping around his thighs, supporting a pair of white thigh-high socks and matching paw-shaped mittens. The second worst part was his face; bisected by a titanium muzzle in the shape of a snout. Two white dog ears, the same color as his other accessories, framed his expression on either side, bouncing slightly as he walked.

The absolute worst part was, of course, the erect and leaking cock between his legs.

Suguru must’ve felt you go rigid. With an irritated groan, he pulled away, lowering you gently back onto your feet. He noticed the strange, naked man just as quickly, acknowledging him with a roll of his eyes. You were quickly abandoned in favor of lowering himself to one knee and cupping the naked man’s face, who panted happily in response.

“Satoru,” Suguru mumbled, carding his fingers through the man’s bone-white hair. “I thought you were going to be good and stay upstairs, for now?”

There was a non-verbal response, mostly tail wagging and clipped barks, and you stared blankly at the drooling, leaking man. At Satoru.

You might’ve said something – about a cigarette, or fresh air. You’d never know. You were on the other side of the door before the sound of your own voice could catch you, trudging stiffly to the end of the driveway.

You needed to get out of here. You wanted to get out of here. You kept one arm crossed over your chest while your free hand shot for your phone, a list of a dozen identical rideshare apps already flitting through your mind. You were cursing the lack of available drivers (why hadn’t you noticed how remote this place was earlier?) when you heard gravel crunching under rushed footsteps, Suguru’s airy laugh.

“I know, I know,” he started, while you were still glaring at your phone. “I’m an asshole.”

Colorful language, but not the type you would’ve opted to use, at the moment. “You told me you had a dog.”

“Oh, god, I did, didn’t I?” There was another laugh, a quick shake of his head, like he didn’t fully remember something he’d said all of three minutes ago. “I’m sorry – I just get into character. It’s hard not to, after a few months.”

You didn’t relax, but you didn’t bristle, either. Suguru took the opportunity to go on. “Look, whatever you’re thinking, it’s not like that. I didn’t lie to you about anything. I really am a trainer, and this really is my place. Satoru’s my client.”

You paid him a wary glance. “Client?”

“Mhm. CEOs and rich fuckers with a lot of power and a lot of money to throw around like to turn their brain off, every now and then. Since they can’t risk anyone they’ve been seen with going to the tabloids, people like me get brought in to—” He paused, shrugged. “—help them relax, I guess.”

“You expect me to believe that guy’s a CEO?”

His wry grin widened, sharpened. “Have you heard of the Gojo clan?”

Of course you had. The Gojo clan owned half of every business in Japan. The Gojo clan had enough property to build their own continent.. The Gojo clan--

You pursed your lips. Slowly, deliberately, your phone was powered off and slid back into your pocket, any other plans you might’ve had for it immediately forgotten.

“No.”

“Yes.” And then, with a note of pride in his voice, “Satoru’s the scion.”

“And he pays you to…”

“Pretend he’s a dog,” Suguru picked up, unflinchingly. “Or a cat. Or a maid. It’s pretty flexible. The costumes get a little out of hand, sometimes.”

You’d noticed. “And to lure women back to his mansion and… what? Have sex with them while he watches?”

There was another airy laugh, this one less apologetic than the first. “No, no, it’s not like that. Satoru’s not the voyeur type, and I don’t like sharing the spotlight. I let him know I was bringing someone over, but he probably thought it’d be funny to scare you – catch us both off-guard, y’know?” He flashed you a smile. “I promise, you’re here because I want you to be. That’s it.”

It was a little insulting, honestly – just how unfaltering he was. Part of you felt offended, like he’d accused you of overreacting, but another, quieter, more base faction chided you for being over-dramatic, for storming out like a child having a temper-tantrum. Because it had been childish, hadn’t it been? For as much as he’d surprised you, Satoru hadn’t seemed to be under any kind of duress, and it wasn’t like Suguru had fundamentally changed sometime in the past few minutes. Looking at him now, with his easy smile and tired eyes, it was impossible not to recognize the man who’d come up to you in your favorite coffee shop, practically tripping over your name; the man you’d spent nearly four hours talking to tonight, and enjoyed every second of it.

“…’caught off guard’ is kind of an understatement,” you mumbled, letting your shoulders slump.

“I know, and I’m sorry. I must’ve forgotten he was coming over tonight. I should’ve been more thoughtful.” His shoulders fell. “If you want to call it here, I get it. Just let me grab my keys – I don’t want you in a stranger’s car so late at night.”

It took you a few seconds to find your voice, but when you did respond, it was with a valiant effort to mirror his easy charm. Admittedly, it didn’t come as naturally to you. “And if I don’t want to call it here?”

Suguru seemed to appreciate the effort. “Then I’d ask for a couple minutes to tell Satoru to fuck off,” he started, slowly, his arm finding it way around your waist. He pulled you into his chest, and you let him. “And make sure I’m all yours.”

It was humiliating – how quickly you cracked. As soon as he finished, you sighed, shaking your head. “No, no, you shouldn’t have to do that. I really should apologize to him.” Suguru hummed curiously, and you clarified. “For running out like that, I mean. It might’ve been a little rude.”

Suguru chuckled, kissing your forehead. “If you say so, sweetheart.”

He held your hand as he led you back inside, the door left ajar from your hasty exit. Satoru was waiting in the entryway - still uncomfortable exposed, but sitting cross-legged with Suguru’s jacket draped over his shoulders. You made a point of keeping your eyes on his collarbones or above, just in case.

“’toru,” Suguru called, affection thick and honey-sweet in his tone. Immediately, Satoru perked up, ambling to his feet, and you did your best not to flinch as you noticed his height, his piercing eyes, the sculpted muscle wrapped around his arms and legs. There was no scenario wherein you would’ve been nonplussed to find out your date was engaging with niche, dubiously sexual roleplay with the heir to the largest trust fund on this side of the planet, but having a less imposing image to associate with that realization might’ve helped to soften the edge.

“I want you to meet (Y/n),” he went on, the embodiment of nonchalance. You straightened, and Satoru cocked his head to the side, evaluating you. What he was looking for, you couldn’t imagine. You wished he would take off that muzzle – at least, then, you might be able to find something a little more human in his expression. “And (Y/n),” Suguru paused, nudging your side. “This is my puppy, Satoru. The one I told you about.”

You forced yourself to smile. Satoru stared at you for a long second before bowing his head, and you took the signal – bringing your hand up to pet him the same way Suguru had, watching as he melted into your palm. It was a little too easy to let the last of your anxiety wash away, an odd sort of confidence taking its place. This wasn’t so bad, not when you knew what to expect. Maybe you’d ask Suguru if Satoru had any friends with similar interests and similar numbers in their bank accounts.

“Suguru didn’t mention how pretty you were.” You let your voice lilt up into that light, cloying sort of baby-talk. With the way they were both acting, it was a little hard to remember you weren’t talking to an actual dog. “You’re a good boy, aren’t you?”

“Careful, now. He’ll get a big head.” He squeezed your hand gently and tugged you towards the staircase. “C’mon – I know where we can get a little privacy.”

Satoru whined, but didn’t attempt to follow you as Suguru guided you up a spiraling set of stairs and into a long, blank hallway. Suguru’s home (Satoru’s home? Their home?) was remarkable unlived in, intentional decoration sparse and the clutter of everyday life entirely absent. It might’ve been off-putting if you’d been able to focus on it, but Suguru seemed eager to distract you, pawing at your waist and stealing kisses every few steps. You counted doors half-heatedly as you passed, and somewhere between eighteen and twenty-three, Suguru pulled one open and ushered you inside.

The bedroom was less non-descript. A king-sized, four-posted bed dominated the space, the sheets a sea of red satin to contrast the black, void walls. The bare necessities were littered sporadically throughout the room – a half-empty glass of water on a bedside table, a white towel hanging from the knob of the closet door, etc. The messiness was almost calculated, things left out on purpose to feign disregard. The only thing that seemed genuinely out of place was the long, braided cord looped around the upper right bedpost, so well-used that it’d ground into and softened the wood underneath. Suguru didn’t seem to notice it, so you decided against saying anything. If you were lucky, it could be useful later on.

It wasn’t like you had much of a chance to talk, anyway. There was a specific sort of fragile, uneasy tension between you and Suguru, and it never seemed to last very long when you two were alone together. The door was shouldered closed hastily, and then, his hands were on your hips, his mouth on the side of your neck. “I’ve been looking forward to this.” And then, with an airy chuckle, a nip to the corner of your jaw, “Thought I was going to have to bend you over in that fucking coffee shop.”

The humiliating part was, had he asked, you probably would have. There was no reason he should have to know that, though. “I’d say to buy my dinner first, but—” His teeth digging into the curve of your throat, a hitch in your breath. You forced out a chirping laugh as he sucked and lapped at your neck. “—I guess you beat me to it, huh?”

Suguru’s only response was a low grown, ten fingers burrowed into your waist. You started to shrug off your jacket, but Suguru was just a little faster, just a little more eager; jerking the article down with one hand while the other wrapped around your midriff. You’d known how big he was, loved the way his body measured up to yours, and yet, you couldn’t seem to suppress the little gasp that escaped your lips as you were pulled off of your feet and thrown onto the center of his bed, to ignore the fear that knotted in your chest as he loomed at the foot of the bed – hastily dragging his shirt over his head. You watched him undress with a lazy type of indulgence, more than happy to sit back and enjoy a free show. Honestly, you’d almost forgotten you were supposed to be a part of the entertainment by the time he propped a knee on the mattress and let the full weight of his attention fall onto you.

Against your better judgement, you thought about Satoru as Suguru climbed into the space between your spread legs. You couldn’t seem to imagine how he and Satoru fit together, not that you were very inclined to. It was hard to picture either one of them as very submissive; Satoru with his menacing height and bright, vigilant eyes, or Suguru with his easy smile and feline arrogance. You’d assumed it was a fetish, but you could’ve wrong, right? You’d heard of people who make paperclip chains and chew paper to relieve stress – when you weren’t actively looking at a grown man pretend to be a dog, it really didn’t seem that much stranger.

“Where do you think you’re going, pretty girl?”

Suguru’s voice, deep and saccharine, brought you back to the present. You blinked up at him, smiling. “’m right here.”

“Good girl.” Muscular thighs straddled your waist, and you whined, reaching towards him. Suguru only caught your hands in his, intertwining your fingers with his own. “Do you trust me?”

“I don’t know. You never did tell me if you were a serial killer.”

“And it didn’t stop you from coming home with me.” He squeezed gently. “Which means you do trust me – whether or not you should.”

You hummed, and that was all the confirmation he needed. Your wrists were gathered in one hand while the other reached for the black cord – not as forgotten as you’d thought. Suguru worked quickly, but deftly. A snug slip-knot soon bound your wrists above your head, and you fought the temptation to test the binding’s strength and ruin the moment. It felt slack enough, and more importantly, Suguru was already shifting, moving, gliding a hand down the length of your throat, your chest, before finally cupping your breast, groping harshly.

Unable to do much of anything else, you arched into his touch, earning a breath of a laugh from Suguru. Dark hair veiled his face as he dipped his head, lips sealing around the bud of your nipple. It seemed to be less for your pleasure and more for his entertainment – the way he sucked with such a deliberate amount of force, how slowly he drew the flat of his tongue over your skin, the feather-slight pressure of his teeth against tender flesh. The stimulation was thick and aching, simmering where it should’ve sparked. You might’ve complained if his hand hadn’t wandered to your sex, two think fingers tracing over your slit and gathering the slick that’d been building up since he invited back to his place. Calling you ‘wet’ would’ve been the understatement of the century – you were soaked. Suguru seemed to know that, too.

He lifted his head, grinning as he pulled you into a deep kiss. By the time he drew back, your lungs throbbed in your chest and he’d been reduced to muttering. “And here I was, so scared that you’d try to run away.” The heel of his palm ground into your clit, drawing out a moan muffled only by his proximity. “No, you were never going to leave before you got what you came for, were you?”

You shook your head, bucking into his hand, but Suguru only clicked his tongue. There was another open-mouthed kiss to the curve of your neck (his favorite spot, it seemed), then another the tender flesh just above your collarbone. “You have to tell me what you want, baby. Nicely.”

Two fingers slipped under your panties and into your tight heat, scissoring apart as you moaned and squirmed underneath him. “Please,” you managed, your voice reduced to a pitchy, wavering drawl. “Please, please fuck me, Suguru.”

“That’s my girl.” You felt his fingers curl inside of you and protested with a mewling whine. When Suguru did draw back, it was only to bring his palm down on your cunt in an open-handed spank that left your skin burning and sparks racing straight to your core. You swallowed down any lingering complaints as he fucked you open on three thick digits, focusing the brunt of his energy on thrusting into you with as much depth and as much force as possible with the occasional curl or split of his fingers, whenever you threatened to adjust to his erratic rhythm. Making you cum was a secondary goal; something to be considered, but not planned around. Judging by his brutal pace, the way his dark eyes stayed fixed on your expression, he was more interested in seeing just how long it took to take you apart.

It was a shame you couldn’t hold on longer, really. Suguru might’ve been patience incarnate, but you’d never had that level of self-control. It took less than a minute of his calloused fingers rubbing against the seizing walls of your cunt, of his palm grinding sloppily into your clit before you were clawing at the cord around your wrists, clenching your eyes shut, snapping your thighs together around his forearm as you came undone from seconds of his harsh stimulation. Of course, Suguru nursed you through your climax and of course, he waited until you were coherent enough to hear the humiliatingly wet noise of your cunt clenching around his digits as he drew back. Your reward came in the form of a moment to breathe, a lingering kiss pressed into the inside of your knee as he lowered himself into the space between your legs. His remaining clothes were dealt with hastily – pulled out of the way where they couldn’t be easily discarded – and before long, you felt the blunt tip of his cock tracing over your entrance, his arousal mixing with the aftermath of your climax. Beyond the use of words, you did your best to grind against him and pulled at your restraints, putting up a laughable imitation of a struggle. The corner of Suguru’s lips turned upward. With one hand wrapped around his base and the other planted on your hip, he eased into you, fitting his body against yours until he’d bottomed out.

Immediately, it was too much.

Suguru caught on quickly, too. “This is what you asked for.” Four fingers rapped against your side as he started to move, limiting himself to short, shallow thrusts. You clenched your eyes shut, digging your nails into your palms and muttering distant, abstract curses between moans. Suguru let out a pitying hum. “You’re not allowed to change your mind now, princess. Not after begging so prettily.”

As if you could. As if you’d have any reason to. It felt like he was trying to fuck your throat through your pussy; his hips grating against yours as he pulled out to the tip only to rut back in. It was less the friction that got to you and more the pressure – filling you entirely, battering against your walls, weighing down your body where it was pinned under his. His hands hooked the underside of your thighs and hauled your legs upward, pressing your knees closer to your chest than the mattress. The stretch was incredible, nearly enough to break you. It took everything you had just to open your eyes and stare blissfully at Suguru, his dark hair dripping over his face and pooling around his shoulders, his eyes narrowed into clever, condescending slits. You could see a smirk shining through his slack-lipped groaning, and over his shoulder, something white bobbed—

Something white.

Satoru.

Against your will, your attention slipped away from Suguru and onto him. You could only make out his upper body, but even that was more than you wanted to see. The bedroom door had been nudged open, and Satoru leaned against the frame, head cocked to the side and glassy blue eyes fixed on the bed. One of his arms was angled strangely, reaching for something below his navel, and you swore, even with the sound of Suguru’s skin crashing into yours, you could hear him panting. You’d assume that the muzzle would’ve done more to muffle it, but guess not.

You didn’t say anything, but the horror written across your expression was obvious. Suguru slowed, then stopped entirely, scowling as he looked over his shoulder to follow your gaze. His reaction was reserved, minimal. A sigh of a scoff, a slight shake of his head. You waited for him to get angry, to tell Satoru to leave, or better yet, to panic, to throw a sheet over your body and do anything but let his pervert of an employer keep jerking off to your exposed, vulnerable form. Instead, he only straightened, pulling to the side as if to show that much more of you off. “Your turn already, puppy?”

Satoru didn’t nod, didn’t respond, and Suguru didn’t wait for him to. Whatever mutual understanding they had between them didn’t need to be spoken aloud; it was enough for Satoru to step forward and Suguru, half-swallowing a moan, to pull out of your cunt. You couldn’t help but feel relieved, your point of connection having abruptly gone cold.

That relief was quickly replaced by stiff, frigid dread as Satoru shuffled forward, into your direct line of sight. Most of his get-up had been abandoned, leaving only his ears, pawed gloves, and of course, that terrible muzzle. Somehow, the subtractions seemed to make him less human – like he’d gone from a man pretending to be a dog to a dog pretending to be a man. Suguru didn’t seem to notice, or if he did, he didn’t seem to care. There was one more squeeze to your thigh, and then Satoru was pulling himself to the headboard, positioning himself beside you. Unceremoniously, you were turned onto your stomach, your bound wrists positioned awkwardly above your head and your elbow prodding into the mattress. Your ass was dragged upward, your knees forced underneath you. Unsure of whether trying to kick out would salvage what was left of your remaining dignity or humiliate you further, you held the position.

This time, the way you jerked and thrashed against your restraints wasn’t playful. The knot had been loose enough to slip a few minutes ago, but as soon as you exerted any real amount of force, it seemed to constrict; soft rope digging into your wrists, cutting off your circulation. You felt the mattress dip behind you, heard Satoru’s rhythmic panting through the metal of his mask. Desperately, you looked to Suguru.

“R-red,” you stammered, hoping the edge in your voice would make up for the lack of an established safe-word. “Black. Pineapple. Stop. I’m not good with this, Suguru.”

Satoru’s knees on either side of yours, the dull head of drooling cock against your ass. You felt Satoru’s tip drag over the curve of your ass, streaking your skin with arousal. Suguru hummed. “But, you’ll grin and bear it, won’t you? ‘toru’s been looking forward to this all day.”

It was awful, how little his tone had changed. If it hadn’t been for the spare man now looming over you, the terror forming knots in your chest, you would’ve thought he was still making mindless dirty talk.

“I never—” Your voice caught in your throat as Satoru whined, needy and keening. Animalistic. “I don’t want to do this.”

His attention flitted between you and Satoru, never quite landing on either. “You’ll come around,” he decided, eventually. “Just like Satoru did.”

Something cold and stiff stabbed into the center of your back. At first, you wondered if that was what fear – true fear – always felt like, made more vivid by tangible betrayal and the sudden awareness of your own stupidity, but then, you realized it was only the lower edge of Satoru’s muzzle digging into your skin as he laid himself over you, and that made more sense.

Satoru was not like his owner. Suguru hadn’t been gentle, but Satoru seemed to operate on something deeper, something baser, something that didn’t give him time to breathe between forcing his cock into your sensitive cunt and his first thrust. Actually, calling it a thrust at all might’ve been too generous – he never seemed to want to pull away from you, only rut deeper, only grinding against your ass as he moaned and whined and drooled against your neck. Eventually, his chest pressed into your back, his head falling over your shoulder. You tried not to look at him, to disassociate where you couldn’t physically separate, but it would’ve been impossible to block out the way his prying eyes seared into your skin. “So pretty.” The metal distorted the exact shape of his tone, but something cloying made it through the fog. “Been waiting forever for Suguru to pick. Knew it had to be you, though. It was always gonna be you.”

You didn’t respond, but Suguru did – laughing brightly. While Satoru did his best to beat your pussy into the shape of his cock, Suguru swung his legs off the side of the bed, turning away from you as he fetched something out of the nearest bedside table. “I’m sorry,” he said, straightening back up. “I knew Satoru needed someone to keep him company while I was away, but I couldn’t bring home just any stray – he’d tear them to pieces. You were perfect, but holding ‘toru off for the months it took to prepare…” He trailed off, smiling fondly. “He’s overeager at the best of times. You can imagine what it was like – trying to tell him he had to wait to meet his kitten.”

He was lying. He was lying and he wasn’t even trying to hide it. You hadn’t known Suguru for months, you’d known him for days. There’d been a meet-cute and everything – you’d stayed at your favorite café for an hour longer than you could really afford to just to catch his eye, and he’d stuttered the first time he’d said your---

Your name.

He’d known your name.

The stabbing sensation was back. You didn’t think it was Satoru, this time.

You opened your mouth – maybe to sob, maybe to scream – but all that came out was a fractured, airy squeak. Satoru’s dick twitched inside of you, and suddenly, you were aware of just how erratic his pace had grown, just how stifling the heat rolling off of him had gotten. You clenched your eyes shut a moment before it happened, keeping them that way as something too terrible to name was pumped into you in hot, smoldering strokes. When the last spark of his climax faded, Satoru went limp against you, cuddling into your back, but Suguru was quick to chide him with a click of his tongue.

“Bad puppy.” You saw him reach for Satoru’s head, hear something metallic and taut click out of place. “Clean up your mess. Then, we’ll have you meet your kitten properly.”

Satoru grumbled, but didn’t disobey. Dragging your unresponsive body onto its side, he nestled his head between your thighs and dragged the flat of his tongue over your slit, lapping up the remnants just beginning to drip down your thighs with a tired sort of enthusiasm. Suguru shook his head wistfully. “He can be such a brat, but he means well. Ah – can you pick your head up for me, baby?”

When you failed to so much as try, Suguru cooed. “I guess you wouldn’t be.” And then, cupping your cheek, “You’re going to be a delicate little thing, aren’t you?”

“…I’m not a thing,” you spat, but it didn’t matter. He was already fitting something onto your head – a headband, the weight balanced by two off-set ears near the rounded peak. The collar was next, heavy and decorated with bows and ribbons that scratched at your throat. You were struck with the inexplicable and irresistible urge to try to claw it off, but your bound hands saved you from the humiliation.

It took you a few seconds to put a name to the last item. Made of a pale pink leather, it had an odd shape – like a cup someone had accidently made wider than it was tall. Studded straps stretched from each corner of the opening, and Suguru’s hand fell away from your cheek as he fitted it to your lower face, The upper strap was pulled tight, then the lower, until the leather pressed snugly into your skin. You started to open your mouth, but shut it just as quickly.

You should never have bothered to wonder. There was only ever one thing it could possibly be.

A muzzle.