#he acts like wille owes him something

[queenwille]

i’m sorry buT

simon has been self centered, selfish and so toxic for the last 2 seasons. hold on, i know he’s a teenager, but he really talks so much about wille and his life not having a place for him, when honestly it’s him. him who will not see beyond his needs, wishes, agendas, life. he’s so self righteous, he literally cannot see a mile ahead. the guilt he produces in wille is simply not healthy. wille is always on the watch, hiding himself, trying to change and feeling like he’s failing/upsetting simon.

i do trust they love each other and are a very good match, but simon really needs to grow the fuck up.

[piracytheorist]

Idk I just really like that Twilight's reaction to being told "Your wife used to be a prostitute!" is to go like

and proceed to say how honourable and worthy of respect her dedication, self-sacrifice and mental fortitude are, and how we're shown he actually means that.

And then my girl Yor sees his reaction and hears his words and for the first time in her life she goes like "This is a man who literally just met me and has no connection to me yet he not only understands my position, he's also willing to bring himself out there and have my back when other people have free bait to judge me" and like damn how important that was to her, to have someone (who doesn't owe his survival to her like Yuri does) actually see her and respect her choices and have the absolute BEST of faiths in her. Like, what Camilla says there has the societal power to make her look like a pariah. Yet this dude comes over and without knowing anything about her, he vouches for her and immediately assumes her reasons were noble and altruistic. And though he doesn't know what profession he's actually vouching for, he's completely right in his assumption about her intentions, and considering how easily the general public judges sex workers, it's no surprise this support gives Yor the courage to believe Loid will understand her and won't think bad of her if she ever disappears on them due to her work, because he's open-minded enough for his first and immediate assumption about her is that she has good intentions.

And I just wanna SCREAM because she has absolutely no idea how little he will judge her about her assassin gig. She already considers herself lucky she's come across someone who is compassionate enough to think the best out of someone who works in a profession that is not considered "morally acceptable" by the public. But she has no idea the actual jackpot she's hit, because his own profession is far more dark and sinister yet he still has the kindness and empathy in his heart to understand people who do the same as he does.

Like, that's it with her character, isn't it? She sacrificed her own youth and morality to help Yuri grow up and be educated, and that caused him to idolize her, and because he was the only family she had left, she has been desperate to not cause any of her ties with him to break. But it also caused her impostor syndrome, and she had no confidence in any of her abilities aside from killing and cleaning up after her work, because she lives in a misogynistic society that is suspicious of unmarried women (like, that judgment alone, considering unmarried men don't experience such scrutiny, can be enough to damage a woman's psyche) and because she has been working under a man cruel enough to hire orphaned teenagers as assassins and nearly kill them in tests of their abilities ever since she was a teenager. For her it was either "I'm either perfect in something or I'm completely useless and I deserve people's judgment". Because if Yuri sees she doesn't have the perfect record, she thinks he will be horrified and she'll lose the ties to her last remaining family. And she will think she deserved that. If her killing skills waver in the slightest, she will be killed, either by enemies or by the Shopkeeper doing his little "tests". And she will think she deserved that. And if she doesn't abide by the society's expectations, she will at best be judged and mocked (for not cooking at home) and at worst get arrested (for being suspected as a spy). And she will think she deserved that.

Yet again, this stranger comes along, is told she's worked a socially shameful profession, knows she's shy and with so few connections that she can't even find someone to act as her pretend boyfriend for a party, and he supports her. And then he finds out how socially unskilled she is, how terrible she is at cooking, how she can't even pretend to kiss him for their mutual benefit, how she has the tendency to get so drunk she accidentally kicks him unconscious... And those things that she considers fatal flaws of her, he says are parts of her that she doesn't need to pretend don't exist. That's who she is, and there's nothing to fix, and she can just accept them without feeling bad or ashamed of it, that pretending she's someone else, someone perfect, will only make her miserable and exhausted.

And like... fuck. How can she not feel glad she got to marry that guy?

And how much will her heart break when she finds out he's a spy and will immediately doubt all the supportive words he's told her? And how astonishing will it be when she finds out that he actually meant pretty much everything he's told her, and that he really resonates with her and believes in her?

(anime only here, don't spoil me for the manga)

[fairy-angel222]

𝐇𝐎𝐖 𝐀𝐁𝐎𝐔𝐓 𝐀 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐑𝐃? 𓂃 ࣪˖ ཐིཋྀ⋆⭒˚.⋆༄

—gojo satoru x fem! reader

𓈒⟡₊⋆∘ your husband’s already given you two children, one more wouldn’t hurt right?

𓈒⟡₊⋆∘ cw: fluff, smut, breeding, praise, petnames, squirting, impregnation, dirty talk

𓈒⟡₊⋆∘ a/n: requested by anon, i loved writing this so much

Eight years.

You and Gojo had been married for eight years. Having met each other in high school, him being the one to get down on one knee the second you both had finished college. He knew you were the one for him ages ago.

That you were his from the moment he met you.

Some would say that you two were living the dream life, despite how young you both were. Gojo never hiding the fact that he was willing to spoil you day by night.

He loved you more than anything. And he never failed to show that through the many acts of affection. His favorite one being buried deep inside you as he whispered the sweet nothings into your ear.

The sex drive of your marriage was high, that was a fact. It was how you ended up with two children in the first place. Two girls who looked exactly like their dad, not even bothering to try with your genes. They had his complexion, his hair, his overly beautiful eyes. They had everything of his.

When you had your first daughter, most people in your life assumed she was an accident. Assumed that Gojo had simply “forgotten” to pull out.

They didn’t know how noisy you’d gotten that night, holding onto your husband tightly as you begged him to fill you up. Begged him to put a baby in you. You wanted to feel all of him.

Your second child was all him. Him begging to give you another one. To pump you nice and full with one more baby. And who were you to say no? You two were building a family and you loved it.

Four and two.

Those were your daughters’ ages, beautiful girls who looked almost identical to each other, obviously. You liked to call them and Gojo triplets. And it made his heart swell knowing that they were something you had both created. Together. Even though they clearly had a favorite already.

His daughters clung to him every second that he was around them. Refusing to let daddy go as your youngest sat in his lap with an adorable grin. Giggling softly as her big sister tied scrunchies into the soft bed of white hair.

“Mommy look! Daddy’s all pretty now,” she clapped, clearly proud of her work as she pulled lightly at the short ponytails.

You watched Gojo grumble under his breath, unable to hide his smile as he looked up at your standing frame. Cheeks tinted red when you laughed softly. “He is baby, he’s very pretty now. Looks just like you two.” Leaning down to peck both their cheeks with a smile of your own.

You yelped softly as you were pulled down, sat on the other side of your husband’s lap as he smirked. “You know who’s just as perfect as you two? Your mommy.”

Your older daughter hummed, cuddling into your lap with a nod. “You are very pretty mommy. Wanna look like you when i get big.”

You couldn’t find the words. As much as you knew that was impossible, it warmed your heart to the core. Especially when your other daughter nodded in agreement, fitting herself on you beside her sister. “You’re very very pretty mommy.”

“Thanks my babies.” You smiled warmly, an arm wrapped around each of them as Gojo wrapped one around you. “Now, you owe me a little kiss too.” He pouted. You giggled, pressing your lips to his in a short kiss before pulling away.

Neither of you wanting to hear the exaggerated ewww that escaped from your daughters’ mouths when you kissed for even a second too long.

You liked to think that you got lucky to have such sweet children. The kind that makes others actually want a child of their own.

—

You loved your life. Everyone could see that. But it had been way too long since you and Gojo were able to spend some alone time together.

It wasn’t your idea, it was his. And you couldn’t not give in when you allowed yourself to think about it. A weekend all to yourselves with complete privacy. A chance for you both to relax.

It was Friday, and you rung the doorbell to your dear friend Nanami’s house, a childish grin on Gojo’s face as he waited for the door to swing open.

Nanami raised a brow upon seeing you two, a cup of coffee in his hand as if you’d interrupted his peaceful morning.

“Uncle Kentooo!!” Two high pitched voices rung out. Little legs running to hug the blond man by his own. Nanami’s eyes widened momentarily, steadying the mug in his hand away from the two latching on to him.

A small smile gracing his face when they grinned up at him. “Well hello you two.”

Gojo grabbed the cup from his friend when your daughters started making upsie signals with their hands. Nanami picking them both up on either side of his torso, turning sharply on his heel as he asked them about their week.

“If that isn’t the sweetest thing I don’t know what is.” You giggled, Gojo’s hand on the small of your back as you brought in two pink princess bags. “So.. Kento-”

“We need a favor.” Gojo was quick to cut to the chase, Nanami not bothering to even watch him as he let small hands play in his hair. His emotions far from the bored expression on his face.

“I’ll watch them.”

“Thank you so much Kento. My parents will be coming for them tonight.” You smiled, the man only nodding with a hidden shrug. “You’re just lucky they’re nothing like him.” Pointing his head in the direction of the man sat next to you.

“Hey!” Gojo gasped in faux offense, “I’m awesome thank you very much.”

Nanami only scoffed. And you and Gojo stood up to give your girls a final hug and kiss to their foreheads. “We’ll see you on Sunday okay my darlings? Grandma and grandpa will come for you later yeah? Mommy and Daddy love you so much.”

“Uh huh, bye mommy, bye daddy!” They sung together, something else that they tended to do from time to time.

As you walked out of Nanami’s house, ready to go home and pack a few clothes, your head tilted. Confusion evident on your face when you looked up at Gojo. “Doesn’t he have work today?”

“Yeah but he adores them. He’d skip work everyday if he had to.”

It was true, Nanami was one of your biggest supports. He was always willing to take them off your hands for even an hour. He hated to admit it but he loved them like they were his own. He truly thought of himself as an uncle.

You found it adorable how serious he was until he was sure you left. Allowing himself to give into their tea parties and makeovers. He was one of the people you trusted most.

You knew that your daughters were in good hands for the day, especially since Nobara and Yuji would be there. Their inner children coming out whenever they were around your daughters.

—

Gojo had taken you to a hot spring resort nearly two hours away. One of the best that he could find.

You were in awe the second you stepped into the place. Never getting used to the amount of money Gojo was willing to spend on you.

The room was huge, and to say it was gorgeous was an understatement. But it paled in comparison to the view. The large steaming pools which were adorned with large marble sloped rocks and tall trees. The whole resort enclosed within mountains which seemed to touch the clouds. The sun setting behind beds of luscious green as the sky glimmered pink and orange.

It was perfect.

Snd the first thing you did after settling in was head into the heated waters. Breathing out contented sigh as you sunk neck down. Allowing the warmth to calm every last one of your nerves. The tension you didn’t even know you had in your shoulder slowing subsiding as you leaned your head back onto one of the large rocks.

“This is amazing.” You smiled, blinking your eyes open to look at your husband, who kept complaining that the area he was in was too hot. Not allowing himself to go any further than his legs until you pulled him into a hug.

Letting the water flow in place at your shoulders. Ignoring the over dramatic faces that your husband was making at the “heat”, simply resting your head in his neck as you relaxed in each other’s arms.

—

The tv blared ever so slightly as you cuddled into Gojo’s side. The coolness of the room unable to beat the warmth that still stuck to your skin. You had just got off a call with the girls. They were at their grandparents’ house. No doubt having way too much dessert before bed. Though they’d most likely get to stay up late watching cartoons.

“You know..” Gojo started, his fingers trailing soft shapes on your skin, “We should have another one.”

You lifted your head off of his chest, “I don’t think they’ll sell us drinks right now love.”

“I’m not talking about drinks.” Your stomach fluttered when Gojo turned you over, his knee in between your thigh as his lips ghosted over your ear. “I’m talking about putting another baby in you.” Allowing it to brush over your clothed clit.

Your lips parted in a whimper when he kissed down your neck. Swiftly pulling off your shirt to kiss at your chest, taking each of your nipples into his mouth while he fondled the other. Your hips bucking up into him when he began grinding his hips slowly into you.

You shivered when his lips touched your belly. Peppering it with small kisses as he hummed against your skin. “Let me make your belly swell.”

You moaned softly, nodding your head eagerly. “P-please.”

“Hmm, gonna give me a third one sweet girl? Gonna make us a pretty family of five?” He husked, kisses getting more aggressive as he trailed back up. His cock twitching at the little whimpers that you failed to contain when you made a noise of agreement.

“Mhm, ‘m gonna give you another one. Wanna give you another one.”

“Yeah?” He breathed, looking for that final bit of confirmation before his lips smashed onto yours. The kiss hard and needy as he worked on removing the rest of your clothes. His fingers dipping down between your folds with a groan. “You’re so soaked f’ me pretty.”

He ran his hand up your slit teasingly, rubbing tiny circles onto your clit making you whine out. “Toruu, no teasing.”

He chuckled, his thick cock prodding at your entrance as he lifted your legs to wrap around his waist. Your hands instinctively draping around his shoulders so that he was pressed into you. A loud moan sounding through the room as he sank into you.

You let a small mewl escape your lips with every movement of his hips. His thrusts gradually increasing in pace till he was hammering into you. Pulling his length almost all the way out before slamming it back into you.

Bright blue eyes met yours, your breathing getting heavier as your back arched off the bed. Nails digging into the skin of his back as you were rocked back and forth. Your husband’s thick cock stretching you out so deliciously as it repeatedly kissed your sweet spot. The position allowing him so deep inside you that he bulged lightly in your stomach.

“Toru, nngh— so good. Ahh.” You were getting noisy. Your cute babbles mixing with the loud echoes of his skin hitting yours. The mere force of his loving making it twice as loud.

You could only moan shakily as you pulled him even closer. Drool covered lips parting in sweet cries when your nails scratched down his back. “O-oh fuck. Ahhh.”

“Taking me so well. My pretty little wifey, can’t wait to see you carrying my child again. Fuck,” He grunted, squelching noises growing louder as your sticky pussy leaked onto your thighs and his. The whole roomed filled with your lewd sounds of pleasure as you both fell into each other. “Gonna fill you up real good baby. Stuff that messy pussy so full of my cum and watch that belly swell.”

Your legs trembled at his words, your hold on him tightening as the rhythmic slapping clouded your brain. Your vision blurring with tears as your stomach tightened. Every nerve along your walls being set on fire as you were fucked like you’d disappear in any moment.

Gojo’s sinking to elbows at the sides of your head for you to cry into his broad chest when you felt yourself nearing your high. “Toruu— so good Toruu, so g-good.”

“Hmm you’re close f’me,” he groaned, your pussy holding him snug as your body shook. “Shit, gonna make you a mama of three. Gonna give it to ya so deep— f-fuckk. Look at me when you cum.” He whispered lowly, your glassy eyes peeling open to blink up at him dumbly.

“Nngh— ‘m, a-ahhh, Toru ‘m so c-close.” You couldn’t think. Your brain unable to process anything but him and the way his cock was fucking into you so good. Your thoughts blanking out as you were engulfed by an indescribable pleasure. Mouth opened in a final cry as you fell off the edge.

“That’s it. Cum f’ me baby. Make a fucking mess on my cock. There you go— just like that.” His thrusts never slowed as a high pitched scream bubbled in your throat. Your body trembling uncontrollably beneath him as you let go. Sopping pussy gushing all over him just the way he liked it. His thrusts never losing their pace as you squirted with a continuous string of moans.

Your husband’s thrusts got sloppy. Head falling into the crook of your neck as he unknowingly slowed down. His thrusts hard and deep as he moaned into your delicate skin. Finding it adorable how your little mewls began to match his pace.

“Love this pussy so fucking much. Could pump her full of my cum every fucking day. Shit— here it comes baby.” His slow thrusts synced with his words, lips capturing yours hungrily as he buried himself deep inside you. Tip sat at your cervix’s entrance when his cock twitched. Spurts after spurts of the the thick substance flooding your insides with heat.

Gojo pulled away from you, a small string of saliva connecting your lips to each other’s. You stayed clung to him like a koala to a tree. Tiredly smiling up at him when he pecked your nose. “If we keep having children every two years we’ll end up with fifty grandkids.”

He chuckled, resting his forehead against yours. “So, what are we gonna name her?”

“Her?”

“We only have girls so far baby, i don’t think it’s in my blood to have a boy.” He joked, both of you laughing as you thought of any possible truth of his words.

“I wouldn’t mind a boy,” You sighed softly, using your finger to brush away the loose strands of hair that fell over his eyes. “I think he’d look just like you.”

Gojo’s hand rested on your belly, using his thumb to rub over it softly. “I’d love either, only cause i’d know that i made them with you.”

Your heart skipped a beat. “I love you so much.”

“ And I love you more than you could ever imagine sweet girl.”

[delulustateofmind]

Terms and Conditions Apply

Yan!SatoSugu x Reader - unwholesome edition

Sum: Normal college roommate activities, except your roommates, are madly in love with you and have a really weird way of showing it.

TW: Yandere Behaviors (manipulation, obsessive, possessive,etc), Omorashi/Piss, noncon/dubcon, oral (m! receiving), Abuse of showerhead, Reader is a bit dense, Power Dynamics, Alcohol consumption, unhealthy relationships, Infantilization, MDNI

WC: 6.0k

A/n: I will probably finish editing the wholesome edition later this week. :) I feel like I've been too angsty lately and I lowkey prefer the wholesome version a bit more, however, my beta reader likes this one so we'll see!

How far is one willing to go?

Willing to sell their soul to the devil—or in this case, devils. The ones you once called your best friends. The ones who stripped you of your rights because you owed them. Because they owned you.

Suguru and Satoru—two trust fund kids with more money than they could ever spend—had waltzed into your life during your freshman year of college, offering friendship cloaked in charm and generosity.

They’d given you a place to stay, sliding a 52-page lease across the table. A document so thick and dense that it had made your stomach turn. Your heart, your instincts, your very soul screamed at you to stop. To read between the lines. But you didn’t.

You trusted them. You ignored the red flags.

You brushed off the subtle proclamations of love buried in their actions, their words, their very presence. How they’d spoke of living up to your standards. How they hinted they’d have truly courted you—if only you’d given them the time of day.

But you didn’t. You dismissed their flirting as harmless.

And like any rich men who refused to be denied, they did the next best thing. They bought you.

You really should’ve let them court you.

Because if you had, maybe you wouldn’t be here now—trapped in their twisted acts of devotion. Acts they called love.

Satoru, with his dazzling grin and sharp blue eyes, always joked about wanting a dog. Something to take care of, to love him unconditionally, to always come when called.

Suguru, ever composed and calculating, never hid his desire for control. He wanted something—or someone—to care for, to command, to obey his every word.

And now, that someone was you.

You’d gone too far for free rent, hadn’t you?

It was almost funny, in a cruel way. You’d joked once about selling feet pics to creepy old men to make ends meet, and Satoru had flashed you that sharp, wolfish grin and asked, “How much?”

You’d laughed it off, calling him ridiculous. But he hadn’t been joking. Not even a little.

If you had said a number, he would have bought them on the spot, saving them for later use. 

When you couldn’t afford drinks on karaoke night, you’d waved it off, saying you’d be fine with water. But Suguru had just smiled, handing over his black card without hesitation.

“Don’t worry about it,” he’d said, his voice smooth, almost tender.

The whole night, he had coddled you, his arm a steady weight around your waist as you sang along to the music. When you were tipsy and laughing, stumbling into him, he’d pulled you onto his lap, his hands lingering just a little too long.

You didn’t notice.

You didn’t notice how his hands trailed along your thighs, how he tilted his head closer to catch the scent of your perfume, how his dark eyes gleamed with something dangerous.

They loved you.

They loved you so much that buying you was the easiest option.

Kidnapping you would have been messy, after all.

This? This was clean.

A lease. A signature. A series of favors and debts that quietly piled up until you were ensnared—unable to leave or even think about leaving.

You thought of them as just weird, quirky roommates. That’s what you kept telling yourself.

Satoru had the habit of barging into your room unannounced, sprawling across your bed like it was his own. He’d hug your pillows to his chest, burying his face in them, his bright blue eyes gleaming with amusement.

And behind your back?

He punched and slapped every single one of your stuffed animals.

All except for the ones he bought you.

Like the stuffed alligator he’d gifted you last month. “Because you’re so snappy,” he’d said with a wide grin, teasing you endlessly as he mimicked your glare. “And because you do those little alligator rolls when I try to cuddle you.”

He wasn’t lying. You did twist and squirm to escape his grip whenever Suguru was away, and Satoru found himself “too lonely” to sleep in a big bed all by himself.

“I need you,” he’d whine, tugging at your blanket as he wedged himself onto your mattress. “Friends can cuddle, y’know. It’s even in the lease—clause 22!”

You’d scoffed, rolling your eyes. “There’s no way that’s real.”

But, of course, you hadn’t read the lease.

You hadn’t read clause 22, clause 34, or any other fine print buried in those 52 pages.

If you had, maybe you’d have noticed the way they’d written their love into the lines of the contract. The way their obsession had been framed as something so mundane, so harmless, that you never thought to question it.

Instead, you dismissed it. Dismissed them.

They were just your weird, clingy roommates, right?

That’s what you told yourself every time Satoru squeezed the stuffed alligator to his chest, grinning as he teased, “See? It’s like me and you! You’re the snappy little gator, and I’m the big, lovable guy keeping you from biting anyone else.”

It was playful. Harmless, you managed to convince yourself.

But sometimes—especially in the dead of night, when the world was quiet, and there was nowhere to hide from the truth—you struggled to ignore the way his hands would wander.

How he’d press open-mouthed kisses against your chest, the wet heat of his lips leaving trails along your skin. The way his hands would squeeze your plush breasts, fingers digging in just a little too roughly, as if claiming them, claiming you, in his sleep.

You told yourself he was dreaming—lost in some haze where he thought you were someone else, or something else.

But when morning came, and you hesitantly brought it up, he’d blink at you with feigned innocence, his blue eyes wide and unbothered. “Did I really?” he’d ask, laughter bubbling just beneath the surface of his words. “Man, I must’ve been dreaming about something really good.”

His grin would widen, that devil-may-care attitude making you question if you’d imagined it all.

“Hey,” he’d say, throwing an arm around your shoulders as he steered you out the door, “let’s grab breakfast. My treat. Consider it a ‘thanks’ for not ripping my arm off in my sleep.”

The offer, so casually given, left you with no choice but to follow. To let him guide you down the street to the café he liked, where he’d order for you without asking—a gesture that felt less thoughtful and more… presumptive.

As he filled the table with plates of food you hadn’t asked for, his laughter echoing through the small, bustling space, you found yourself playing along. Smiling at his jokes, laughing when he wanted you to, pretending that everything was normal.

Because what else could you do?

Confronting him felt impossible. Denying him? Even more so.

It was easier this way—going along with the current, letting him pull you wherever he wanted, feeding you bites of his food like you were some cherished pet rather than a person with agency of your own.

“Open up,” he’d coo, holding a forkful of syrup-drenched pancake to your lips, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction when you complied. “Good girl.”

And you’d swallow it down, the sweetness coating your tongue as his praise sent a shiver crawling along your skin.

Because it was easier to pretend.

Easier to act like this was just how things were—how they’d always been.

But no matter how hard you tried to convince yourself, the question lingered, heavy and unavoidable:

How far were you willing to go?

You kept telling yourself to endure. Just two more years until you graduate. Two more years, and you’ll be free.

You could play along until then. You had to. You needed the cheap rent.

And it wasn’t like you could even prefer one of them over the other. They were equally clingy, equally overbearing in their own ways.

Suguru, at least, had the decency not to invade your space outright.

He never barged into your room unannounced like Satoru. He didn’t sprawl across your bed or bury his face in your pillows. No, Suguru was different. His methods were quieter, subtler.

Whenever Satoru left for the weekend to visit his family, it was Suguru who kept you company. He’d coax you onto the couch with him, his deep voice laced with calm reassurance.

“You’ll keep me company, won’t you?” he’d ask, his tone so soft, so genuine, that refusing felt impossible.

And before you knew it, you’d find yourself in his lap, his strong arms wrapping firmly around your waist as he leaned back, settling you against his chest.

“It soothes me,” he’d murmur, his voice low and almost apologetic. “I’ve been so stressed with my master’s lately. You don’t mind, do you?”

How could you say no?

Suguru always had a way of making his needs sound so reasonable, so innocent. You didn’t even think to question it—not until his hands started to linger. His thumbs would trace small, deliberate circles against your hips, his breath warm against the back of your neck.

Clause 12.

That’s what he’d called it the first time you hesitated.

“Roommate will always provide emotional comfort,” he’d said, the faintest hint of a smile tugging at his lips as his dark eyes held yours.

You hadn’t read the lease, of course. But when Suguru spoke, his voice so calm and assured, it was hard not to believe him.

So you let him hold you.

You let him keep you there for hours, his hands warm and steady as they rested on your waist, his quiet hums vibrating against your back. You sat frozen, unsure of where the line had blurred—or if there had ever been a line at all.

Things changed after one night.

You’d gone out for drinks with some friends—a rare occurrence these days. Between their constant presence and your dwindling social circle, opportunities like this had become few and far between.

Maybe that’s why you drank more than you should have.

The alcohol buzzed warmly through your veins, leaving your mind foggy and your limbs loose as laughter spilled freely from your lips. You didn’t even notice how late it had gotten until someone pointed it out, and the world tilted slightly as you tried to check the time on your phone.

“Shit,” you mumbled, your voice slurred as you stared at the blurry screen. You scrolled to Satoru’s contact—he always answered first—and hit call.

When they arrived, it was like the entire bar shifted.

“Oh my God, those are your roommates?” one of your friends teased, dragging out the words as she nudged you with a playful grin. “You’ve been holding out on us! Are you playing games or something?”

A giggle bubbled out of you as you swayed in your seat, the room spinning slightly. “Nooo,” you slurred, shaking your head a little too hard. “They’re just—”

Before you could finish, Satoru’s tall frame appeared in front of you, crouching down to your level. “Having fun, huh?” he asked, his bright blue eyes glinting with something unreadable.

You buried your face in his shirt, giggling uncontrollably. “Satoruuu,” you slurred, your voice high-pitched and childlike. “I’m fineeee. I was just… just hanging out!”

“Yeah, I can see that,” he said, chuckling as he shifted you in his arms, holding you upright as your legs wobbled.

Meanwhile, Suguru quietly slipped away to the bar, his expression calm and collected as he handed over his black card to settle your tab. When he returned, his eyes gleamed with something dark, though his lips curved into a faint smile as he glanced at your friends.

“Ah, sorry we haven’t announced we’re dating yet,” he said smoothly, his voice low, a grin playing at his lips.

The table erupted into laughter and cheers, glasses clinking together in celebration.

You blinked slowly, your alcohol-heavy mind struggling to process his words. “Wait… what?”

You tried to straighten up, but Satoru’s grip on you tightened, pulling you back against him. “Shh, don’t make a scene,” he murmured, his voice light and teasing, though the edge to his grin made your stomach twist.

“He’s joking,” you said, slurring as you waved a hand lazily. “You’re jokinnng, right, Suguru?”

But Suguru’s smile didn’t falter. He leaned closer, his hand resting on the small of your back as he said softly, “Does it sound like I’m joking?”

Your friends erupted into louder laughter, their voices blurring together as your head spun.

“Let’s get you home,” Satoru said brightly, steering you toward the door.

You were too drunk to argue, your body slumping against his as the cool night air hit your face.

“You didn’t have to say that,” you mumbled, your words barely coherent as Suguru helped you into the car.

“Say what?” he asked, sliding in beside you, his voice calm and measured.

“That… we’re dating,” you slurred, your head lolling against Satoru’s shoulder as he climbed in on your other side.

Satoru laughed, his hand ruffling your hair as he pulled you closer. “Oh, come on. It’s not a big deal. Besides, they loved it. Right, Suguru?”

Suguru’s hand brushed lightly against your knee, steady and deliberate. His dark eyes met yours in the dim glow of the streetlights. “Does it bother you?” he asked, his voice soft, almost tender.

You tried to answer, your lips parting, but your mind was too foggy, your tongue too heavy. The alcohol clouded your thoughts, dulling the sharp edges of your confusion and concern. The only sound you managed was a quiet, slurred mumble before sleep tugged at your consciousness.

When you woke up, the world felt too soft, too still.

Your eyes fluttered open, the dim light of early morning filtering through unfamiliar curtains. The silk sheets beneath you were far too luxurious, the plush mattress beneath your body a stark contrast to your usual bed.

You sat up slowly, a pounding headache hammering at your skull as the events of the night before came back to you in blurry flashes. The bar. Your friends. Satoru. Suguru.

And now this.

Waking up in their bed was unexpected.

You winced as the urge to pee hit you, the discomfort pulling you fully awake. You swung your legs over the edge of the bed, your bare feet brushing against the cool floor as you prepared to stand. But before you could rise, a hand shot out, gripping your wrist.

The sudden tug sent you back onto the mattress, your heart skipping a beat as you turned to see who it was.

Satoru.

His snowy white hair was messy, his eyes still half-lidded with sleep as he pulled you closer to him, his grip firm but not painful.

“Where are you going?” he mumbled, his voice groggy yet tinged with something along the lines of annoyance.

“I… I need to pee,” you stammered, your voice hoarse as you tried to free yourself from his grasp.

Satoru’s eyes opened fully then, his bright blue gaze locking onto yours. He looked at you for a long moment before his lips curved into a sleepy grin. “Mmm, can’t you wait a little longer? It’s too early to get up.”

The warmth of his body pressed against yours, heavy and unmoving, trapping you in place. His arms tightened around your waist, pulling you flush against him, as if he were anchoring you there.

“I’m serious…” you mumbled, your voice barely above a whisper as you tried to squirm away, but his grip didn’t loosen.

Instead, you felt his grin against the back of your neck, his breath hot against your skin.

“Shhh,” he murmured, his voice soft and drowsy but carrying that familiar edge of control. “You’ll wake up Sugu… You can wait.”

The mention of Suguru made you freeze, your eyes darting toward the other side of the bed.

Sure enough, there he was.

Suguru lay on his side, his face calm and serene in sleep, his dark hair spilling over the pillow. His breathing was deep and even, the rise and fall of his chest almost hypnotic.

“You don’t want to wake him, do you?” Satoru hummed, his voice low and teasing, though there was something almost mocking in the way he said it.

You swallowed hard, the weight of the situation settling heavily over you as Satoru’s arms remained firmly around your waist. He shifted slightly, nuzzling into the back of your neck like a contented cat.

“Just relax,” he murmured, his voice already trailing off as sleep pulled him back under.

You lay there, stiff and silent, the dull ache in your bladder forgotten as your mind raced.

The warmth of their bodies on either side of you, the sound of their steady breathing, the oppressive weight of Satoru’s arm around your waist—it was suffocating.

But you didn’t move.

You couldn’t.

Because somewhere deep down, beneath the haze of confusion and discomfort, a single, chilling thought crept into your mind:

They weren’t going to let you go.

And for now, it was easier to stay still. To let Satoru’s grip keep you in place, to let Suguru’s presence loom quietly beside you.

To endure.

Because what other choice did you have?

You waited an hour. Generously. The way your bladder felt like it was going to spill if you even moved an inch made it agonizing, but what else could you do?

Why did I have to drink so much? you thought bitterly, biting your lip to keep yourself from groaning.

“Satoru…” you whispered, your voice barely audible, tinged with a small, desperate whine.

No response.

His soft snores filled the room, and you felt the faintest flutter of hope when you realized his arm had gone slack around your waist. It was loose enough—just enough—that you might be able to slip free without waking him.

Carefully, you began to move, inch by inch.

You winced at the painful, overfull feeling in your bladder, a burning reminder that if you waited even a second longer, you were sure you’d humiliate yourself. The thought of staining such expensive, silken sheets filled you with dread.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, you managed to wriggle out of Satoru’s grip. He stirred slightly, mumbling something incoherent before settling back into his slumber.

You held your breath as you slid off the bed, crossing your legs tightly as you stood. The sensation made you want to scream, but you forced yourself to stay quiet, moving as carefully as you could across the room.

You reached the bathroom door, relief flooding through you as your hand grasped the handle.

But when you turned it, the handle didn’t budge.

It was locked.

Your stomach dropped, a cold wave of panic washing over you as you tried again, jiggling the handle more forcefully this time.

Still locked.

You glanced over your shoulder, your heart pounding as you looked back at the bed. Satoru hadn’t moved, his snores still soft and steady. Suguru remained motionless, his dark hair spilling over his pillow like ink.

You turned back to the door, biting your lip hard enough to sting. Why the hell was it locked?

You tried again, pressing your weight against the door this time, but it wouldn’t give.

Panic began to rise in your chest as you crossed your legs tighter, your body screaming at you for relief. You couldn’t go back to the bed—not now, not like this. You couldn’t face them if something went wrong.

Your bathroom was… across the apartment.

You could make it, right? You just had to waddle your way there.

The thought alone filled you with dread, but what choice did you have? The idea of pissing yourself in your weird roommates’ bedroom—on their luxurious, expensive sheets, no less—was enough to make your face burn with humiliation.

A soft, desperate whine escaped your throat as you shifted your weight. It’s too much.

But you had to try.

You moved carefully, every step a torturous mix of sharp, burning pressure and overwhelming panic. Your breaths came shallow and uneven, your legs trembling as you shuffled forward, praying the noise wouldn’t carry back to the bedroom.

It was just the hallway, the living room, and then the bathroom.

Easy, you told yourself, though the pounding of your heart and the sting of tears in your eyes screamed otherwise.

You barely made it to the end of the hallway before your legs gave out, your body sinking to the cold floor as a sob built in your throat.

Tears brimmed in your eyes, the humiliation of the situation crashing over you like a wave. You couldn’t stop them, hot streaks rolling down your cheeks as you clutched at your stomach, the pressure unbearable.

Why did this have to happen? Why couldn’t the door just unlock? Why couldn’t you have made it just a little farther?

You pressed your forehead against your knees, trying to muffle the soft, broken whimpers escaping your lips. The silence of the apartment felt suffocating, every sound you made echoing in your ears like a cruel reminder of just how trapped you were.

And then, the sound you dreaded most.

Footsteps.

Slow, deliberate, heavy against the hardwood floors.

You froze, your breath catching in your throat as the footsteps grew louder, closer.

“Couldn’t sleep?” Suguru’s voice was soft, calm, almost soothing, but it made your stomach twist into knots.

You didn’t lift your head, your body trembling as his presence loomed over you. You could feel his gaze, heavy like he could see straight through you.

“What are you doing out here?” he asked, crouching down so he was at eye level with you. His tone was steady, almost kind, but there was an edge to it that made your chest tighten.

“I… I just…” Your voice cracked, the words stumbling over themselves as you tried to think of an excuse, something that wouldn’t make this worse.

Suguru tilted his head, his dark hair falling over his shoulder as his sharp eyes scanned you. “You could’ve just woken me up if you needed something,” he said softly, his lips curving into a small, affectionate smile.

Before you could respond, another voice chimed in.

“She’s crying.”

You flinched at the familiar, teasing lilt of Satoru’s voice, your heart sinking further as you felt him approach.

“Aw, did we scare her?” he teased, his grin audible in his voice as he crouched beside Suguru, his bright blue eyes gleaming with amusement.

“It’s not that,” Suguru murmured, his gaze never leaving you. “She’s upset.”

“Hmm,” Satoru hummed, leaning in closer, his sharp blue eyes gleaming with something that made your chest tighten. “Why’s that, little gator? What’s got you all worked up, huh?”

You wanted to disappear, to sink into the floor and vanish entirely. Anything to escape their piercing stares, the weight of their presence pressing down on you like a cage.

But then, you felt it.

The warmth spreading beneath you, dampening the hardwood floor.

Your breath caught in your throat as the realization struck you like a tidal wave. You’d pissed yourself.

Silent tears trickled down your cheeks, shame and humiliation crashing over you in waves as you dared a glance at Suguru.

His dark eyes flicked down to the wet patch spreading across the floor.

And then he smiled.

Not his usual small, measured smile, but something broader. Something that sent a wave of goosebumps.

Satoru followed Suguru’s gaze, his brows lifting in surprise before his grin widened into something almost predatory. “Well, would you look at that,” he murmured, his tone light and teasing but laced with something darker.

Suguru tilted his head slightly, his sharp eyes meeting yours as he spoke.

“Clause 52,” he said softly, his voice calm and steady, like he was reciting something he’d known by heart.

Your stomach knotted further, anxiety pooling. You really should have took time to read the absurdly long lease.

“‘If a roommate is deemed unfit to take care of themselves, it becomes the other parties’ duty to assume full care of the roommate, gaining full autonomy over the party deemed unfit.’”

The words were a death knell, ringing in your ears as your tears fell faster.

“Unfit,” Satoru repeated, his tone dripping with mockery as he leaned closer, his hand gentle as it brushed a tear from your cheek. “That’s a little harsh, don’t you think, Suguru?”

Suguru’s smile didn’t falter, his dark eyes steady as his hand came to rest on your trembling shoulder. “It’s not harsh if it’s true,” he replied softly, his voice almost tender, but the weight of his words crushed any chance of denial. “She clearly needs us.”

“I’m fine,” you whispered, your voice cracking as you tried to push away the rising panic. You clung to the last shreds of your dignity, your hands trembling as you tried to wipe your tears. “It was an accident. I just—”

“You just proved you can’t take care of yourself,” Suguru interrupted, his grip tightening slightly, his words cutting through your feeble attempts at an excuse.

Satoru chuckled, leaning against you, his sharp blue eyes gleaming with a mix of amusement and something darker. “You know,” he started, his tone almost conversational, “we could have enacted Clause 52 sooner.”

Your breath hitched, your eyes darting to him as he tilted his head, his grin widening.

“I mean, your grades this semester? Not exactly stellar.” He chuckled, shaking his head as if scolding a child. “And let’s not forget that blunt you took from Shoko a few months back. You do know weed is very illegal in Japan, right?”

The blood drained from your face as he spoke, your mind scrambling to keep up with his words.

“Could’ve gone to jail,” Suguru added, his voice calm and matter-of-fact as he straightened, his hand leaving your shoulder only to slide under your legs.

You yelped as he scooped you up effortlessly, your body trembling as you tried to claw away from him, your hands weakly pushing against his chest.

“But a grown woman pissing herself?” Satoru said, standing and shaking his head as he followed Suguru toward the bathroom. “Now that’s a pretty clear sign you need help. I mean, we’d be neglecting you if we didn’t take care of you at this point.”

“Put me down!” you cried, your voice breaking as you struggled against Suguru’s hold, your heart pounding in your chest.

“Shh,” Suguru murmured, his grip unyielding as he carried you down the hall. “You’re only making this harder on yourself.”

Tears blurred your vision as the door to their bathroom came into view, the realization of just how powerless you were sinking in with every step.

Tears blurred your vision as the door to their bathroom came into view, the realization of just how powerless you were sinking in with every step.

“We’ll clean you up,” Satoru said brightly, his grin firmly in place as he swung the bathroom door open. His tone was light and teasing, but the words twisted in your stomach. “That’s what good boyfriends—sorry, roommates—do, right?”

Suguru carried you inside without hesitation, his movements smooth and calculated, like he’d done this a hundred times in his head. He set you down gently on the edge of the bathtub, his hands lingering on your arms as though steadying you. The care in his touch felt unnervingly intimate, blurring lines you hadn’t even realized were being crossed.

“I don’t need—” you started, your voice trembling, but Suguru cut you off.

“Do we need to treat you like a child too?” He hummed as he turned on the water, you noticed Satoru take a spot on the floor, his hand….gravitating to….

You forced yourself to look away. 

Instead pleading to Suguru that you can wash yourself, that he doesn’t need to climb into the tub with you pressing himself behind you. As he grabbed the handheld shower head, changing the settings as he deemed fit as you squirmed and sobbed. 

“Have to clean you now, hm?” He hummed behind you, changing the setting of the handheld shower head to the highest setting, the pressure was too much as you squirmed and clawed at his hands shaking your head. You looked over at Satoru the smile on his face, the way he seemed blissed out as he stroked his…

Oh god. 

They enjoyed this. 

You couldn’t help the whine that escaped you as your cunt clenched onto nothing, as your clit was being tormented by the harsh pressure of the showerhead Suguru had directed. 

“Shhhh, just let go… I got you,” Suguru murmured, his voice low and soothing as he adjusted the spray of water once more, there was purpose in his insistent touches, firm and absolute.

You couldn’t stop the sobs that wracked your body, your tears mixing with the water cascading over your skin. Your mind felt like it was spinning, your thoughts fragmented and overwhelmed by the unbearable mix of sensations and emotions crashing over you.

And then, you reached the peak—your body betraying you, shuddering in his grip as your climax washed over you. Shame burned hot in your chest, your face flushed with humiliation as the sobs came harder, raw and broken.

Suguru’s hand never faltered, his movements steady as he lowered the setting on the showerhead to a gentle spray, hushing you softly as you came down from your high.

“That’s it,” he murmured, his tone almost tender as his hand smoothed over your damp skin. “Just let me take care of you.”

You couldn’t muster the strength to respond, your body trembling as exhaustion began to creep in.

But he wasn’t done.

Before you could catch your breath, Suguru adjusted the water pressure again, the sharp sensation snapping you back into focus as he began once more.

“No, please…” you whimpered, your voice weak and cracking as you squirmed in his hold.

“Shhh,” he hushed you, his lips brushing lightly against your temple as his grip tightened. “You’re fine. I’ve got you.”

You didn’t have the strength to fight him.

Again and again, he pushed you over the edge, your sobs gradually giving way to soft, broken whimpers as your body betrayed you. Your limbs felt heavy, your mind clouded with a haze of exhaustion and humiliation.

By the time he finally relented, your eyes were half-lidded, sleep tugging at the edges of your consciousness.

Satoru, who had been watching the entire time, stood from his spot on the floor, his sharp blue eyes raking over your limp form with a grin that made your stomach twist.

“Since Suguru did a good job cleaning you up, think you can clean my mess?” Satoru’s voice was light, teasing, but the sharp glint in his blue eyes told you there was no room for refusal.

Your head weakly shook in response, your body trembling with exhaustion as you tried to avert your gaze.

But Suguru didn’t let you.

“Be a good girl,” he murmured, his voice calm but firm as his hand cupped your jaw, tilting your face back toward them. His thumb pressed against your lips, prying them open with gentle insistence.

You whimpered, tears welling in your eyes again as his thumb slipped onto your tongue, the weight of his touch heavy and suffocating.

“There you go,” he said softly, almost soothing as though this was something to comfort you. “It’s easier if you don’t fight.”

Before you could protest, Satoru was pressing the tip of his cock onto your tongue, sliding his length down your throat despite your gags as Suguru ensured you wouldn’t bite down, keeping your mouth open.

“Good girl,” Satoru cooed, his voice low and saccharine as he watched you with amusement, the corners of his lips twitching upward as you instinctively flinched. “Be a good little gator, don’t bite”

You couldn’t stop the fresh wave of tears that trickled down your cheeks, your body frozen under the weight of their attention. Every movement felt heavy, every breath labored as you struggled to take the full length down your throat.

Suguru’s dark eyes bore into you, steady and unyielding. “See? You can do this,” he murmured, removing his thumb to help guide your head as you sucked on Satoru’s cock. “You’re already doing so well.”

“Better than I thought she would,” Satoru replied, a soft groan escaped his lips as he tilted his head back, gently rocking his hips forward despite your tears, Suguru was forcing your head to bob on Satoru's length, keeping his touch gentle.

“We’re going to take such good care of you,” Suguru hummed, his voice smooth and steady as his hand’s methodical movements, his dark eyes gazing at you in adornment as you choked on the sticky white ropes that trickled down your throat. 

His words made your stomach twist, but the calmness in his tone—the way it almost sounded affectionate—made it all the more suffocating.

“I think we can work with this arrangement, right?” Suguru murmured, his lips curving into a faint smile as he leaned in closer, his breath brushing against your ear. His tone was calm, almost soothing, as though this was the most natural thing in the world.

“We love you so much, don’t you know?” he continued, his voice softening further, as if the depth of their love for you was as much a burden for them as it was for you. “We’ll give you time to adjust to the new arrangement. Don’t you worry.”

You flinched, your body trembling from a cocktail of exhaustion and humiliation. The words wrapped around you like a cage, their gentleness only making the weight of them heavier. Your eyes darted toward Satoru, searching desperately for some sign of relief, some thread of normalcy—but his expression only made your stomach twist.

His smile was lovesick, almost dazed, his half-lidded eyes clouded with fatigue, likely from his final exam. Yet his fingers found their way to the top of your head, the touch soft and deliberate, giving you a gentle, almost affectionate pat.

The gesture should have been comforting. It should have eased the tightness in your chest. Instead, it felt like a reminder—a quiet assertion of control, of just how tightly you were bound to them.

“Let’s get you ready for bed, shall we?” Satoru said, his voice light and teasing, laced with his usual carefree charm. But beneath the playful tone, there was an undertone of finality, a quiet edge that made it clear this wasn’t a suggestion.

Suguru’s hands were steady as he adjusted the towel around your body, his touch disarmingly gentle, as though he were savoring the act of caring for you. Each movement was slow, deliberate, as if he were worshipping the process of drying you off. He ensured the towel wrapped around you modestly, yet his fingers lingered just long enough to make you question if there was more to his care.

When he stood, his tall frame towering over you, he extended a hand. His dark eyes met yours, calm and unreadable, as if silently urging you to trust him.

You hesitated. Every instinct screamed at you to pull away, to run, to do something. But the exhaustion weighed you down, rooting you in place. Your legs felt like lead, your thoughts foggy and scattered, a tangle of fear and resignation you couldn’t untangle.

“You’re tired,” Suguru murmured, his voice a soothing balm that did little to ease the tightness in your chest. There was an undercurrent of quiet authority in his tone, one that made resistance feel futile.

His hand enveloped yours, warm and steady, guiding you to your feet before you could summon the strength to protest. “Let us take care of you,” he said softly, the words carrying a tenderness that felt at odds with the unease curling in your stomach.

Satoru was already waiting by the door, leaning casually against the frame. His bright blue eyes watched you with his signature grin—a grin that normally felt harmless but now carried an edge that made your chest tighten. “Come on, little gator,” he cooed, beckoning you with a casual wave. “We’ve got everything ready for you.”

You let them guide you, too drained to resist. Suguru’s hand rested lightly on your lower back, steadying you as Satoru walked ahead, his playful hum filling the quiet hall.

When you finally crawled into the cool sheets, your body sagged into the mattress, the weight of the day pressing down on you. The bath had left your skin warm and your limbs heavy, the overstimulation making it impossible to think straight. Exhaustion was a tide, pulling you under, and for a fleeting moment, you were grateful for the comfort they had so carefully orchestrated.

Perhaps you were too far gone to notice—or to care—about the faint noises behind you. The soft murmur of voices, the rustle of fabric, the low, intimate sound of Satoru’s moan as he lowered himself onto Suguru.

Your mind barely registered it, the sound blurring into the background as sleep took hold. You ignored the quiet gasp, the rhythmic creak of the mattress in the other room, and the muted groan that followed.

The warmth of the blankets, the scent of lavender, the haze of exhaustion—all of it conspired to drag you deeper into unconsciousness, letting the world fade away as your body surrendered to sleep.

[quarterlifekitty]

Hi! could you possibly write something about a fuckboy!soap and shy!reader that he uses for sex, and she keeps letting him? im craving angsty angst ANGST that just keeps hurting…you don’t have to if you don’t want to and thank you if you do! Have a great day!

Okay, one thing you all should know about me? Is that I’m a weenie lol so I can’t help but make things a little hopeful most of the time. Also— gonna make this like a college type AU

Soap clocks you from a mile away when he sees you at a party. There’s a cup of beer in your hand that you’ve been nursing, just sipping to have something to do while you cling to the side of the friend who forced you to come.

He’s seen you in his classes before. You’re good. Not the type to be seen in a place like this. And that kinda whets his appetite. He wants to fuck you, break you, make you fall apart for his own amusement.

He nudges Gaz— they have the routine down to a science— splitting up the birdies that are a little too huddled together so they can have their way with them. Gaz runs interference this time, Johnny mouthing an “I owe ye” his way— chatting up and pulling your friend away to talk a bit more. You’re alone now, and Johnny swoops in, weaving through people on a warpath.

He corners you expertly, and you’re a pathetically easy read. Easy to tease, to coax, to push. He just has to throw in a few lines about how pretty you look, peppered between him saying he’s always wanted to talk with you, always admired you in class— he gives just enough detail to lull you into thinking this is courting. That he’s going to fuck you because he likes you.

Works like a charm. Always does. You clumsily follow him to his room—“Ye didnae ken? This is my fraternity’s house, bonnie,”— as he pulls you along by the hand.

He enjoys pulling you apart. Like the birds taking Prometheus’s liver. He’s not a complete animal, he makes you cum, but he doesn’t give you kisses the way you’d probably hoped he would. He’ll tell his mates later— it was kinda cute how fucking bad you were at giving head, too.

He lets you stay the night even though your clinging is a bit annoying. Pushing you out would burn this bridge, and he’s not ready to do that just yet. Not when he could keep having fun.

Come morning your clothes are tossed your way (sans panties, those are going in his trophy collection), and he has the decency to drop you off at your place with the promise of further contact.

Come your next class, he’s back to acting like he doesn’t know you. You’re shy, but you’re not stupid. It’s easy to see that you were played, and you curse yourself for falling into it.

So why do you show up when he texts you, asking you to come over?

Promethean indeed.

And it keeps happening.

It’s not like he treats you badly— that’s what you tell yourself. You’re just the idiot for expecting more than orgasms. It’s nice to feel wanted. It’s not nice to put your clothes on and get out right after, but you’re willing to ignore that. You shouldn’t be. But you are.

You’re not the kind of girl who gets asked out. So why refuse the one source of attention you have? He makes you cum, right? That’s more than a lot of guys do, so it would be unfair to expect more. High maintenance. Right?

If Johnny can see the hurt behind your eyes when you turn to check behind you when you leave, as if he’ll suddenly change his mind and call you back into bed to hold you, he doesn’t do anything about it. He’s content to tug on his jeans and brush past you with a cigarette in his mouth.

You steel yourself as usual, double checking the straightness of your clothes as if it’ll make you feel like less of a cheap whore when his housemates glance your way as you leave.

The door across from Johnny’s is almost always open, despite how closed off its occupant seems. You’ve never met Simon. Well, you really haven’t met anyone in Soap’s life. That’s not what he keeps you for, is it? Fucktoys don’t get introduced to the friend group. Doesn’t stop Simon from staring holes in your back every time you leave. Must think you’re easy. Must wonder if Johnny’ll mind if he has a go. Or maybe he just thinks you’re pathetic. You certainly do.

But it’s happened one too many times. Apparently, even a worm will turn. His stare itches and crawls up your skin when you already feel like such a piece of meat— chewed up and spit out. And you must be losing flavor. Before long you won’t even have this. You turn to look at him instead of walking on as usual.

“What the fuck are you looking at?” You spit in a tone that surprises you. You’ve never said anything like that to someone, not in earnest, anyway.

“Lemme take y’out somewhere.”

What?

What?

[ajlockwood]

one of the most powerful things about arcane in my opinion is that it managed to capture so many forms of love, so please bear with me while we delve into this analysis.

[SPOILERS FOR SEASON 2 OF ARCANE!]

vander’s love for vi and jinx was the one of a good father; he raised them like he promised their mother, and for as long as his consciousness lived, he was determined to protect them. silco also grew to love jinx like a daughter, in his own way. she wasn’t just one of his most prized assets: while he was ruthless to most, he had a tendency of going “softer” on her, and was desperate to save her when he thought she was gone. singed loved his daughter so much that he was willing to go to unspeakable lengths to bring her back. and despite everything, ambessa and mel were still mother and daughter, and in the moment of death, they recognised how much they meant to each other. a mother stabbed by her own daughter, and yet, with her final breath, she expressed how proud she was of who mel had became — quite similar to silco’s death.

caitlyn and vi have always been romantic, this third act showing the passionate kind of love they had. ekko loved jinx in a most pure way, a love he carried with him since childhood and somehow persisted. mel and jayce had their troubles in the beginning, but they grew to trust each other and became very significant to one another with time.

vi and jinx were one of the most important of all, because they clashed and fell apart, and even through it all, even with so much hatred and hurt and grief, they never let go. they loved each other beyond words. their love was powerful enough to bring forgiveness. with isha, jinx showed all this love that was still inside her, the love for a sister she thought she had lost. silco and vander too clashed and nearly killed each other (silco succeeded) and yet their love persisted.

and then it concluded with jayce and viktor. their love was transcendental, beyond simply romantic or platonic bonds even. ever since they first met, without their knowledge, their lives had always been intertwined. it all started with them, and it ended with them. they clashed to near death, but jayce didn’t let go, and viktor couldn’t either. “it was affection that held us together”, viktor said. they were both alive because of each other. they owed each other so much. it was their love’s power that saved the universe of its collapse. again, a love powerful enough to forgive and leave everything behind.

so yes, I am very emotional and may have many conflicting thoughts about some aspects of these last acts, but the portrayal of love was something that I felt deeply throughout the entire series and can’t go unnoticed. all in all, the message of the show can be summarized in silco’s line: “the greatest thing you can do in life is find the power to forgive”.

[nosyp]

Diasomnia boys reacting to you dating an NPC

Heartslabyul ver | Octavinelle ver | Savanaclaw ver | Scarabia ver | Pomefiore ver | Ignihyde ver

A/N = here's your duasomia ver, i'm not rlly a big fan of this dorm so it's probs more ooc than allthe other dorms

Sebek Zigvolt

Sebek would be INCREDIBLY jealous and fiery, and he's not gonna be able to hold back his anger.

His possessive side would take over, and he might even challenge your boyfriend into a duel to know who's REALLY meant for you. And once they lose the duel, Sebek's gonna angrily declare how they are unworthy of your affection.

If the results of the duel won't convince you, he would move onto plan B and try to isolate you from the NPC, telling you that they aren’t worthy of your time and that you don’t need them.

Once he finds out you two broke up, he's telling everyone, running around telling everyone you “made the right decision” and proclaiming that you deserve someone worthy of your greatness (aka, him).

Silver

Silver’s reaction would be passive and subdued. He would never directly confront you about it, but his quiet jealousy would become apparent as he tries to keep you close, finding any excuse to spend time with you but it's mostly just to keep watch of you and your boyfriend.

He might start showing up at places the NPC visits, either claiming it's by coincidence or being protective in a "harmless" way.

He would likely focus on showing you how much he’s willing to sacrifice for you, attempting to make you feel guilty for your choice.

Over time, he would begin to withdraw, making you feel like you owe him something for his unspoken devotion for you.

Suddenly, one day, you come up to him crying, sobbing, about how your boyfriend broke up with you, he'd react by quietly offering comfort without trying to rub it in your face. He’d understand that breaking up with someone, even with a guy like your 'boyfriend', can be emotionally taxing. "It must have been hard… But you don’t have to be alone now. I’m here for you, no matter what."

Lilia Vanrouge

When he finds out, he'd initially brush it off, pretending it doesn’t bother him, though you'd see the cracks in his facade. Then suddenly, his usual lightheartedness would shift to something more controlling and desperate.

He might or might not try to make you feel guilty for breaking up with him, playing with your emotions with stories of his past and how much he’s sacrificed for your happiness. His charming, mischievous side could turn darker, showing just how manipulative he can be when he's desperate to win you back.

Lilia would then start to appear in places you frequent, making sure to remind you of the bond you share. If necessary, he might even resort to spying or trying to subtly cause you to feel discomfort, making you reconsider your decision.

Lilia might laugh it off initially, seeing it as a small victory in the grand scheme of things. But deep down, he’d be happy that you’ve made the "correct" decision. He’d act like it’s no big deal, but he’s secretly pleased.

"Oh, the poor thing. It’s fine, though—don’t worry, I’ll be here for you. Always."

Malleus Draconia

Homeboy is SHOOK. Malleus is SO used to getting what he wants, so being rejected or broken up with would be an emotional blow to him, even though it's technically not directly rejecting him.

He may not immediately understand why you would do this and might try to convince you it’s a temporary decision and that the guy is probably just a phase right?

After his initial shock, he would likely try to assert his authority and status to get you back, reminding you of how much he can offer you. He might try to appeal to your sense of duty, convincing you that being with him is your fate.

Malleus will likely start using his status and authority to convince you that being with him is your destiny and he's not above subtle threats. Even though your boyfriend would be met by his usual formal and calm demeanor, giving the impression that he's simply “correcting the mistake” of your choice.

And finally, when you complain to him about your boyfriend totally ghosting you, he only smiles and says, "What a shame... You’ve chosen someone unworthy of your time. Looks like you must come back to me, for there is no one who can love you the way I do." sending shivers up your spine. Now you can only wonder what he did to the poor guy.

[oceansmotion]

Welcome to Gaudy Shore!

Power, fame, wealth— for decades, Sims have come to Gaudy Shore seeking fortune. On the outside, the glitz and glamour are dazzling, but the dark, seedy underbelly of the city casts a long shadow. Will these families shine bright, or will the shadow swallow them up?

Featuring 12 households, Gaudy Shore sees the return of some much beloved and missed families from Sims 1! Set 25 years in the future, this hood can be played as a companion hood to Pleasantview, or on its own.

Every family has their own storytelling album so make sure to check them out!

Keeping reading to learn about the families in Gaudy Shore!

Returning families:

The Mashuga Family

Content to dance the night away, - every night, for decades, - Frankie and Sylvia Marie have taken a hands-off approach to raising their children. Now that they're in their twilight years, what are their kids willing to do to get what they believe is owed to them?

The Hick-Charming Family

Elden only ever wanted what was best for his family, but somehow got himself involved in shady dealings. Charleigh is young and full of life, but will that get her into trouble with the boys? And will Clarke ever leave her bedroom?

The Jones-Smith Family

The Jones-Smith family has been a pillar of the community for decades, and the death of Chris has sent everyone reeling. Nick has vowed to honor his mother by setting his career aside to focus on his family, but that's easier said than done.

Michelle loves to dance, sing, and drink the night away, especially after the death of Mama Chris. Is her new interest in the town magnate genuine, or just another way to extend the party?

New Families:

The Banks Family

Rich, powerful, beautiful— the Banks family is known throughout town for everything beauty-related. Obsessed with only herself, will Arie uncover her husband's secrets? Lux thinks of himself as a good man, but is he really? Will Benjamin choose to follow his heart or his mind?

The Ramoz Family

Nora has always dreamt of being a famous movie star but has found mild success in the writing and voice acting world. Can that be enough for her, or will she strive for bigger and better things? Julien had his heart broken by his two best friends in the world. Can he ever forgive them? And will Carlos find himself involved in the shady underbelly of Gaudy Shore?

The Ermírio de Moraes Family

Wealthy, powerful, lonely, José has it all… except love. Is he blind to reality, or is this new relationship the real deal?

The Jenkins Family

Naive, sheltered Alyssa has lived her life under the strict thumb of her mother, Miriam. Will she be willing to ruin someone else's life to get the love and affection she's always desperately craved?

The Nelle Family

Quiet and reclusive, only a few Sims in town really know the Nelle family, but it doesn't take a genius to notice that something isn't quite right with them.

The Waltzman Family

Ever the partier, Wesley finally grew up and changed his outlook on life, but this has left him a little over protective of his sister, Wilma. Will he ruin her chances at happiness? And will he find love despite his ties to another?

Heartbroken for years, Wilma has finally gotten over her first love… or has she? She just met Donovan, but will her wandering eye lead her to her family's demise?

Four strangers living under one roof and a fresh divorce. Can Walda and Walter Waltzman get along after their divorce, or will they disrupt the perfect harmony Ines and Fernando Ermírio de Moraes have enjoyed for decades?

______________________________________________________________

Gaudy Shore features 12 playable households, 20 community lots, 3 apartment buildings, and 10 empty houses all built by me , except for Cafe Petit, a lot bin cafe (I like to think of it as a chain). Terrain also made by me. The hood comes with its own unique townies and strays; a few townies even own and work at some of the business around town!

This hood is not CC free but it isn't a lot

CC that I didn't use a lot of and the hood is fine without:

Wire Fencing by Cyclonesue on TSR

Stair Wall Fix by JRW on MTS

Photos & Plaques Hide with Walls Down by Numenor on MTS I used A LOT OF PICTURES taken with the career reward camera and the walls are very cluttered with photos, so I do recommend this mod.

Diagonal 3t2 Bungalow Windows by Nysha on MTS

Natural De Fences by Rosebine on MTS

CEP by Numenor on MTS

CC that will alter the hood significantly:

Bespoke Build Set by Bespoke on MTS

Shiftable Everything by Lamare on MTS

______________________________________________________________

I've been working on this hood on and off for a long time now, and I'm so happy that it's finally finished. It is definitely a labor of love and I hope you enjoy it <3 While Gaudy Shore was originally intended to be a subhood to complement Pleasantview, there are no ties to PV at all and can be played on its own. Please make sure to check out all the story images I included, I had a lot of fun taking them! For those adding the hood as a subhood, José, Michelle, and the Waltzman kids have which apartments they are supposed to be in at the end of their bios. And for the retirement home, I left it as a normal residential lot, but can also be converted into an apartment lot, or you can maybe use dorm doors, or mods to set each apartment to the correct Sim.

I have also gone through every Sim to set their intended names across all languages, so if your game is not in English, the Sims should still have the names I gave them!

Thank you to everyone that helped me along the way and play tested the hood for me, I really appreciate you <3

Download Mainhood || Mediafire Box

Download Subhood || Mediafire Box

Terrain Only || Mediafire Box

If the names got scrambled, you can use this program from MTS to fix them, it's really easy! Can also be used to fix any other neighborhoods that get messed up :)

Please let me know if the subhood version works as intended and does not yeet itself out of the game, test on a testhood!

Edit: Only download ONE version at a time.

[hollowed-theory-hall]

We don't talk enough about Ron's mean streak

Like, I saw a lot of people talk about how funny Ron is (which is true, he's genuinely one of the funnier characters in the series), how loyal he is when it counts, he's brave as hell, and he is really smart, just not book smart. But what I don't see talked about enough (maybe it's just me though), is Ron Weasley's mean streak.

I talked about how Harry most definitely has what it takes to be a Slytherin, can be scary, and is willing to kill when push comes to shove. I also mentioned Hermione's ruthlessness, but I didn't discuss Ron's mean streak which is a joy when I see it crop up in the book. When it comes up, it always reminds me of the twins, and I feel like that's where Ron got it from.

So I'm just going to bring up a few quotes I had in my notes showing Ron's mean streak, I'm sure I missed some from the earlier books, but I find it a fun aspect of his character.

Snape cried: “Expelliarmus!” There was a dazzling flash of scarlet light and Lockhart was blasted off his feet: He flew backward off the stage, smashed into the wall, and slid down it to sprawl on the floor. Malfoy and some of the other Slytherins cheered. Hermione was dancing on tiptoes. “Do you think he’s all right?” she squealed through her fingers. “Who cares?” said Harry and Ron together.

(CoS, 178)

This type of reaction is seen with Ron pretty often. He really doesn't care when someone he dislikes is hurt or injured and he is very vocal about it. He and Harry kinda share this trait, as seen above.

Later in the other quotes I bring up, I show that Hermione is the one usually playing morality police for Ron and Harry even if she herself isn't as innocent as she likes to act.

He raised Ron’s Spellotaped wand high over his head and yelled, “Obliviate!” The wand exploded with the force of a small bomb. Harry flung his arms over his head and ran, slipping over the coils of snake skin, out of the way of great chunks of tunnel ceiling that were thundering to the floor. Next moment, he was standing alone, gazing at a solid wall of broken rock. “Ron!” he shouted. “Are you okay? Ron!” “I’m here!” came Ron’s muffled voice from behind the rockfall. “I’m okay — this git’s not, though — he got blasted by the wand —” There was a dull thud and a loud “ow!” It sounded as though Ron had just kicked Lockhart in the shins.

(CoS, 280)

I love this, Lockhart explodes the cave, obliviates himself, and Ron's reaction is to kick him in the shins. I don't know, I just find it hilarious.

“Don’t talk to me,” Ron said quietly to Harry and Hermione as they sat down at the Gryffindor table a few minutes later, surrounded by excited talk on all sides about what had just happened. “Why not?” said Hermione in surprise. “Because I want to fix that in my memory forever,” said Ron, his eyes closed and an uplifted expression on his face. “Draco Malfoy, the amazing bouncing ferret . . .” Harry and Hermione both laughed, and Hermione began doling beef casserole onto each of their plates. “He could have really hurt Malfoy, though,” she said. “It was good, really, that Professor McGonagall stopped it —” “Hermione!” said Ron furiously, his eyes snapping open again, “you’re ruining the best moment of my life!”

(GoF, 207)

Here you see Hermione the morality police crop up, but I'm talking about Ron here.

Hermione is definitely right in that Draco could've been seriously hurt, but Ron is just glad he saw Malfoy suffering. Actually, in the scene before it, Ron was the one who wanted to curse Malfoy and was held back by Harry and Hermione (as well as in the eat slugs situation in CoS), like, with as much as Harry calls Draco his nemesis, it really feels like Ron is the one that hates Draco and thinks of him as his nemesis.

“She’s an awful woman [Umbridge],” said Hermione in a small voice. “Awful. You know, I was just saying to Ron when you came in . . . we’ve got to do something about her.” “I suggested poison,” said Ron grimly.

(OotP, 324)

I love you, Ron.

This is one of my favorite quotes for him. Hermione shuts down the poison idea, but I think they should've given it a shot, I think it could've been fun.

It would've been cathartic for them at least.

“You take Remedial Potions?” asked Zacharias Smith superciliously, having cornered Harry in the entrance hall after lunch. “Good Lord, you must be terrible, Snape doesn’t usually give extra lessons, does he?” As Smith strode away in an annoyingly buoyant fashion, Ron glared after him. “Shall I jinx him? I can still get him from here,” he said, raising his wand and taking aim between Smith’s shoulder blades. “Forget it,” said Harry dismally. “It’s what everyone’s going to think, isn’t it? That I’m really stup —”

(OotP, 528)

I love how Ron always has Harry's back and is ready to fight anyone (including Sirius who he thought was a mass murderer when he was 13 with a broken leg) for Harry's sake. It's a real vibe the Golden Trio has that they're just ready to drop everything and curse out anyone for each other's sake. They are just so protective of each other and I love this for them, how they are all just each other's people, yk.

It's also another example of how Ron is the one of the trio that offers violence as the answer the most often.

“Reparo!” said Hermione quickly, mending Ron’s cup with a wave of her wand. “That’s all very well, but what if Montague’s permanently injured?” “Who cares?” said Ron irritably, while his teacup stood drunkenly again, trembling violently at the knees. “Montague shouldn’t have tried to take all those points from Gryffindor, should he? If you want to worry about anyone, Hermione, worry about me!”

(OotP, 679)

Again Ron doesn't care for the injury of people who he considers deserving.

“Madam Pomfrey says she’s just in shock,” whispered Hermione. “Sulking, more like,” said Ginny. “Yeah, she shows signs of life if you do this,” said Ron, and with his tongue he made soft clip-clopping noises. Umbridge sat bolt upright, looking wildly around.

(OotP, 849)

Like, regardless of whether Umbridge was SAed or not (for the record, I don't think she was) it's not a nice thing to do. Umbridge is awful, but this is Ron literally spreading salt on the wound. but like I mentioned above, she's in the "deserving it" category.

“will you stop pretending to be asleep when Lavender comes to see you? She’s driving me mad as well.” “Oh,” said Ron, looking sheepish. “Yeah. All right.” “If you don’t want to go out with her anymore, just tell her,” said Harry.

(HBP, 411)

That is honestly so mean. Like, I'm not Lavender's biggest fan, I find her annoying, but she's a teenage girl in her maybe first relationship and she did nothing really wrong. I feel truly sorry for her for how Ron treated her, it wasn't really her fault. It's just mean that he pretends to sleep instead of talking to her.

“Same as he wanted at Christmas,” shrugged Harry. “Wanted me to give him inside information on Dumbledore and be the Ministry’s new poster boy.” Ron seemed to struggle with himself for a moment, then he said loudly to Hermione, “Look, let me go back and hit Percy!” “No,” she said firmly, grabbing his arm. “It’ll make me feel better!”

(HBP, 650)

Like, this is peak sibling behavior, but as I mentioned earlier, Ron tends to want to resort to violence more often than Harry and Hermione do (especially in the earlier books, as Harry does grow angrier after Sirius' death). He is usually the one to bring violence up, and I find it an interesting aspect of his character.

And Ron is correct in the fact hitting Percy would make him feel better. Not saying if it's the right thing to do, but Ron really would experience it as satisfying because Percy would deserve it in his mind.

“What are we going to do with them?” Ron whispered to Harry through the dark; then, even more quietly, “Kill them? They’d kill us. They had a good go just now.” Hermione shuddered and took a step backward. Harry shook his head.

(DH, 167)

As I mentioned in one of the Harry posts, Harry is calling the shots, but Ron is the one who offered to kill the Death Eaters. He put that idea on the table. He was relieved when Harry said they shouldn't kill them, but if Harry said it'd be better if they killed them — Ron would've backed him up and done it, while Hermione might've preferred to pretend it wasn't happening.

“That treacherous old bleeder.” Ron panted, emerging from beneath the Invisibility Cloak and throwing it to Harry. “Hermione you’re a genius, a total genius. I can’t believe we got out of that.” “Cave Inimicum. . . Didn’t I say it was an Erumpent horn, didn’t I tell him? And now his house has been blown apart!” “Serves him right,” said Ron, examining his torn jeans and the cuts to his legs, “What’d you reckon they’ll do to him?” “Oh I hope they don’t kill him!” groaned Hermione, “That’s why I wanted the Death Eaters to get a glimpse of Harry before we left, so they knew Xenophilius hadn’t been lying!”

(DH, 424)

Again, Ron not caring/enjoying when people who deserve it suffer. Xenophilius wanted to help them, he tried to persuade them not to come into his home at first so he wouldn't give them in, he tried so hard even though the Death Eaters had his daughter! Harry rightly feels bad for Xenophilius and Luna, it's easy to understand why he did what he did.

Hermione and Harry hope he is fine, but Ron is the one who thinks he has it coming. That he deserves to have his house blown up for betraying them, regardless of his reasoning.

I think Ron is the most black-and-white in his thoughts about people among the trio. There are those who deserve anything that comes to them and those who don't. Specific circumstances and context don't really play a part in what bad people deserve coming to them.

I don't know, I just find this interesting.

Harry has the compassion to understand people, even ones who harmed him or the people he cares about, he is capable of forgiving Voldemort and never really hated Draco.

Hermione is pretty black-and-white in her view of people, having the people she trusts and those she doesn't. She trusts Snape because he's an authority figure trusted by Dumbledore (and Hermione is the one who is truly Dumbledore's woman true and true in the books). Her view on people has less to do with their actions, but who they are endorsed by. She is compassionate to Xenophilius because he's Luna's dad, and Luna is good, therefore, she wouldn't love someone who is bad.

Ron is black-and-white in how he sees people in a very different way than Hermione. He looks at actions, and if you do anything to try and harm him or people he cares about, you get on the shit list. Getting out of Ron's shit list is probably not easy, he doesn't strike me as one who forgives easily and readily the way Harry does, but he does forgive. Like actions can get you on his shit list, actions can get you out. But once a person is on the shit list, they deserve any harm that comes their way.

But Ron is really loyal, and there are people he loves who are basically immune from going on the shit list (like his family, yes, even Percy. While he wants to hit him, I don't believe Ron ever really wished death on Percy). And there is just something interesting about Ron, with his mean streak and everything, being the glue that holds the trio together. Like, in Deathly Hallows once he leaves, Harry and Hermione barely talk to each other, they are barely friends without Ron there.

I don't know, I just love Ron. I love how he is loyal, and friendship glue, but has just as much of a mean streak to him as Harry and Hermione can pull. I just feel like he's sometimes left out of the discussion of how ruthless Harry and Hermione could be. Like, it's true, both of them can be ruthless, but don't leave Ron out. He can be ruthless and actually offers violence as a solution more often than Harry or Hermione do.

[solifloris]

≡;-꒰ 𝐑𝐀𝐅𝐀𝐘𝐄𝐋 ꒱₊˚ ପ⊹ I  𝑴𝒖𝒔𝒆

╰┈➤ ❝ rafayel x afab!reader | smut nsfw 18+ mdni

tags : pwp (without plot), softdom!rafayel, but also kiiind of switch!rafayel, kissing and making out, teasing, guided masturbation, inappropriate use of a paintbrush, clit play, nipple play, slight overstimulation, slight edging if you squint, thigh riding, praise, cursing, dirty talk, use of pet names "my muse" "princess" "baby", lmk if i missed any tags !! ((unedited))

wc : 3.2k

taglist : @zaynesaurora @darlingdummycassandra (+ @seaofgoldensand mwah) | sign up here!

an : guys bc ,,,,,, i swear you never truly realize how daunting it can be to act as an impromptu live model for someone.. until you try it...

You underestimate the intimacy of eye-contact.

It was quiet.

Too quiet.

There was nothing but silence in the air, only occasionally interrupted by a tap of his shoe on the floor, or a squeaking of the chair when he moved. There was the tick-tick-tick of the clock on the wall, and the faint, hushed sound of delicste brushstrokes on the canvas...

These were the only things you could focus on, if not at the way that he looked at you.

Rafayel's stare was intense.

Anytime he would shift his gaze from the canvas and back to you; anytime you'd catch the way his eyes would take in the shape of your figure...

You wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt; this was just part of the process. He was only being professional, after all—of course an artist needed to look at his model!

...But it was less about what he felt; this was something that you, yourself couldn't take.

"Eyes up here, princess," came his voice, the familiar sing-songy tone to it triggering a bout of butterflies.

You were torn, somewhat.

You wished you could wipe that knowing smile right off of his face, but simultaneously felt that you could cave underneath even just that stupid, stupid gaze of his.

...And you knew that you had brought this upon yourself.

Whatever bickering had started with his whine about a "lack of inspiration" and a roll of your eyes in response, had settled with you offering to be his model.

You even recalled how surprised he was, the concern that etched on his features—

"Hm? But it could take a while, you know. Might be uncomfortable for you to sit for so long."

You figured it couldn't hurt. You were willing to get through it if it meant finally bringing your partner out of his rut, and in turn, his willingness to paint you—when he had sworn that portraits were never even his thing—felt like a little treat.

However, as much as you believed you'd have the upper hand in this situation, you severely underestimated it.

Now, you sat atop a cushioned chair, assuming a position you were comfortable with holding for a time unspecified. You donned normal, unnassuming clothing, just your everyday top and jeans. And in front of you sat a painter and his canvas, his hands moving tastefully over the piece he crafted, a certain twinkle in his eye that already had you reeling.

Rafayel was painting you, and by all means did nothing about this set up look the least bit intimate to either of you—

But you felt like it was.

It was a private moment, just the two if you in this room, gazes meeting with an intensity that made you want to squeeze something.

You didn't know if you had to owe it to how attractive he was, but staying like this, with nothing else to focus your attention on, you could only notice how pretty he was. Soft, layered hair so perfectly styled into place, his signature low-cut shirt framing his figure so nicely...

And his eyes.

God, his eyes.

Rafayel had the most captivating eyes you'd ever seen—A mix of a deep magenta and cerise, of mulberry and wine... So unrelenting in their allure that though the intensity had your heart beating wildly in your chest, you could never, for the life of you, ever tear your gaze away.

It was visceral.

It sent a tingle down your spine.

You could curse all the memories that would flood to your head just because of it, those images and sensations of your nights together. The way he'd look at you, with lust, and love, such passion imbued with every roll of his hips against yours... This wasn't the time to be thinking of such things, you knew that. They brought an obvious hue of pink to your cheeks that you knew he'd notice, but you almost couldn't help it—

Was a siren's allure truly so confining?

You had nowhere to run.

Somewhere, in the back of your mind, you could almost think this was...

Intentional.

"Little muse, you're blushing."

If you thought it couldn't get any worse, you were clearly wrong.

Rafayel's brushstrokes had paused, and the mirth that danced in his eyes set off all the warning bells that your brain could manage.

"...Shut up, you're imagining things," you mumbled, willing youself to turn your head away from him.

"Ah ah ah~ I'm not done yet, don't move, princess."

And to think that when you'd started, he'd been concerned for you.

Despite yourself, you fidgeted in your seat.

You couldn't take any more of this.

You'd been at it for close to an hour by now, the silence, the staring, the butterflies—

A slight shift in your position made you painfully aware of the wetness that had pooled between your thighs, and you wanted to crawl into a cave.

"Hey. You tired?"

Rafayel was searching your expression, reading you.

It wasn't helping.

"N-no," you managed to nearly choke out, your obvious fluster making your cheeks feel warmer.

And in all this time that you've known him, been with him—you knew that he could put two and two together.

A smirk spread over his features.

You were in for it.

"I'll allow some movement," he hummed, setting his brush down momentarily, "but it looks like you want something a little more... specific..."

"Rafayel, if you don't shut up—"

He grinned.

"Why? We can take a break, yeah? I'm just giving you free space to do as you want."

You watched his eyes rake over your figure, lingering over the way your legs were pressed more tightly together than you'd started with.

"Don't tell me you need me to guide you, princess..."

You wished you could slap that smile off his face.

Rafayel folded his arms, leaning back a little. The shine in his eyes didn't budge even a millimeter; his gaze remained steely on you.

"You know, if I didn't know any better, my muse, I'd say you've gotten a little needy."

You didn't know why you bothered to stay put in your seat, when the paintbrush was not even in his hands anymore.

And he noticed.

"Yeah? I'm right, aren't I?" he chuckled. "So why don't you release some of your stress before we continue? Since you're not getting up, you might as well do something for my motivation..."

The way he gestured towards the canvas, wearing that infuriating little smirk of his, had the heat rushing to your face.

"As if you could take watching me touch myself," you shot back, mirroring his pose and crossing your arms.

You cheered in silent victory at the momentary lapse in his expression, though it settled back into his smile within seconds.

"Mmn... Then we'll have to do something about that later, if it comes to it," he shrugged. "But this is about you, princess."

For a while there was no response from either of you, just staring silently at each other, daring one to make a move—

Until his gaze made you squirm, and he let out a snort.

"Oh, princess..." he started, his eyes narrowing slightly. "I'm not going to touch you when I still intend to get back to finishing this piece. So if you want to use our little break to do something about this... You'll have to do it yourself. Come on, now. Undress for me, yeah?"

He was infuriating.

A menace.

This was karma for all the times you've rendered him speechless, and he was enjoying it.

You clicked your tongue, the challenge in your eyes winning over the embarrassment that stirred in the pit of your stomach.

"Fine! Don't blame me if you'll never finish that painting..."

Frustrated though you might have been, and perhaps, ever determined to pay back his teasing, the look in his eyes remained bewitching.

It was foul play.

Your fingers trembled as you deftly pushed your panties to the side, your jeans kicked down to your ankles, your legs spread. Rafayel had seen you—used you—many times before... But there was something unnervingly intimate about doing this for him, when he was a number of laces away from you, watching, observing.

It was as if you were... a show.

"You're dripping," he commented, voice quiet and low, unable to keep himself from leaning forward as if to get a better look at you.

His words sent an involuntary shiver down your spine. You could only shoot him a glare, your blush betraying otherwise the effect that his heated gaze on you had.

"Go ahead, princess... I bet you're aching to be touched."

You almost didn't want to admit it, the way his voice played in your ear so sweetly that your heart could simply burst out of your chest. He made you weak, and you could barely think straight, and he could... see it all.

You chewed on your lip, shakily dipping a finger just barely into your heat, sliding up between your folds with a trail of obvious slick left in its wake.

"Shit..." you cursed under your breath.

You were almost scared to look back up at him, knowing you'd see those god-foresaken eyes again, so heated as they took in your every movement, your every action—

"That's it, princess," Rafayel murmured. "Play with yourself. Rub your clit for me, yeah?"

Your eyes closed as you found yourself doing exactly as you were told.

Soft pants fell from your lips, your middle finger drawing upwards to circle your sensitive nub. Just slow, gentle rubs, easing you into a rhythm of pleasure... You dared to open your eyes, catching the way his gaze remained fixated on your movements, his own eyes darkening, his lips parted slightly.

"You're so wet, baby..." His voice was hoarse now, clearly just as affected by the situation as you were. "Can you put a finger in? Please?"

Your features schooled into a small smile; victorious, in a way, despite your own obvious display of need. "But, why, Rafa?" you teased. "I don't wanna rush..."

The groan that he let out was delicious, and your eyes narrowed in satisfaction.

"C'mon, princess... I wanna see. Do it for me? Just one finger, yeah?"

"You're so easy to get all worked up, Rafa~" you found yourself cooing at him, taking note of his flushed cheeks, the heat in his eyes mirroring your own.You were the one touching yourself, and yet, he was the one begging. It was amusing, in a sense—how just the simplest things reduced him to this sort of mess.

"Just a little taste of your own medicine," you quipped.

But you did as he said, anyway.

The first push of a finger into your cunt had you moaning. The glide was easy, smooth, your walls accepting of your own intrusion, almost aching for even more.

"Fuck... that's it, baby, in and out, just like that."

It was almost amusing to hear him speak that way, so enraptured by the way you pleasured yourself, lost in the thought of you coming undone right in front of him. You didn't need his words of guidance; you knew exactly which spots had you keening, how to gradually bring yourself over the edge. Yet, he would still offer up words of such praise to you anyway, guiding you, telling you what to do, how to please yourself.

And there was something, just something, about the rawness in his voice that got to you.

Your eyes met as you began to buck your hips into your hand, sliding against the cushion, willing to give yourself more stimulation. Your breath fell out in puffs of quick pants, your heart rate accelerating, the pierce in his gaze so daunting and intimidating, yet so... arousing.

"R-Rafayel..."

Your eyes went hazy, unable to bring yourself to turn away from the hypnotic quality of his gaze.

"Keep going, princess, I'm here."

Your fingers moved faster, curling into your heat, emphasizing the obscene sounds of wetness that filled the studio. Your thumb moveed over to brush your clit, your other hand gripping the seat impossibly tighter, and then—

"R-Rafa!" You threw your head back, hips stuttering. "I-I'm close!"

In your peripheral vision you could see him lick his lips, his voice coming out hoarse, full of want. "Yeah? You are, huh? Come on, princess, just a little more. Work those fingers for me."

His words proved enough.

"Shit—fuck—!" A string of curses left your lips. You felt it as the pleasure rolled through your body, eliciting a gasp, causing you to nearly double over.

"There we go. Such a pretty little muse. That expression on your face is beautiful."

His words soothed you from your high, a gentle coo of praise as you took your fingers from out of your wetness. When you looked up at him, he was smiling, hand outstretched as if to beckon you. "C'mere, princess. You did so well for me, let me taste those pretty fingers of yours."

You almost clapped back at him, as if the urge to bicker—to one-up him—rose up just by instinct. Yet, there were those eyes again. That particular look that was magnetizing. It was more than a beckon. It felt like an allure. You were almost certain you'd moved on your own, slow steps into his arms, gently allowing yourself to be pulled onto his lap, the glisten from your earlier orgasm immediately coating the fabric of his pants.

He did as he promised, guiding your fingers into his mouth, looking straight at you with eyes full of lust. His tongue swirled over the pads of your fingers, and you twisted them for him. Watching him suck on your digits, slowly moving them in and out, promising him the taste he so desperately wanted... before you pulled them away with a wet pop.

"Give me one more," he whispered immediately, a dangerous glint in his eyes. "One more, before I finish this painting. Think you can do that?"

You'd nearly forgotten about the painting. It was behind you, your back turned towards it, your eyes only focused on the man before you. You didn't look back—didn't need to, not now. Not when his offer was so... tempting.

"'Kay," you mumbled. Your response was just as instant, your hips moving to glide over his thigh.

But he smirked.

A hand went to your back to support you, hold you in place, and your eyes widened when a clean, unused paintbrush found its way into his other hand.

"R- Rafayel...?"

"Just want to have a little bit of fun," he said breezily, gently trailing the brush from your jawline, all the way down over your collarbone. The sensation made you shiver. "Go on, princess. Don't mind me..."

Don't mind me.

He had the audacity to say that as he let you move all over his thigh, the bristles of his brush leaving a trail of goosebumps with every little stroke on your skin. Just light, feathery, teasing flicks, enough to add to your stimulation... It felt nice, and you'd never admit it to his face, but you could fold.

"You'd be so lovely to paint, look at you," he murmured. And he enjoyed the way your body jolted at his words, the chuckle enough of a testament. "Yeah? You like that idea, don't you, princess? Next time, maybe, I can have even more fun with you..."

The paintbrush began to venture lower, flicking against your nipples.

Your eyes went wide.

"W-wait—!" You gasped, gripping his shoulders, feeling him repeat the motions. Again, and again—the brush circled around your pert, sensitive nub, his gaze turning thoughtful, his little tool giving you more sensations than you knew were even possible.

"Hm? What's wrong?"

It acted like a soft caress, one so foreign to you that it made your head spin.

And he didn't dare stop there.

He must have gotten incredibly worked up, you thought, as he stilled your hips and leaned you back. You could guess where things were going; the way his hand supported your back from toppling into the canvas was firm and determined, your position already having your dripping cunt a little bit more on display for him.

"Look at me, princess," he whispered.

And you felt it—the paintbrush gliding lower and lower, gentle strokes over the skin of your abdomen, pausing just above your clit.

Your breath hitched.

Anticipation hung in the air, your eyes barely managing to stay locked onto his as your face seemed to fume with embarrassment.

"Rafayel," you huffed. "Seriously, you...!"

He circled the brush, a smirk tugging on his features. Feathery bristles brushed against you clit, and you let out a cry. There was a pattern, almost: he'd move the brush gently down the side of your folds, fluttering back up to your nub, pressing against it with a certain kind pressure he knew you always loved... Teasing, always teasing, never lingering for too long in a single spot.

It had you moaning almost immediately.

"What was that, my muse?" he grinned.

You'd never wanted to slap that expression off of his face any more than you did now, yet he had you helpless. You felt like putty in his hands, melting with every movement of his little brush, your thighs tensing over his. You didn't even need to move, anymore; the sensitivity from your previous orgasm had your senses heightening scarily quick, the coil steadily beginning to tighten in your stomach.

It felt as if he'd barely been doing anything.

Just that goddamned brush teasing you in all the right places, flicking against your clit, as he watched you clench around nothing.

"Please!" you swallowed your pride down deep enough to beg, the look in your eyes harboring a frustrated glare of want. "Stop teasing, Rafa, I need...!"

"Yeah? Need what, hm?"

Oh, he was having fun.

"N-need to cum! Need... Need something, Rafa, c'mon—!"

The brush set back aside, and he kissed you.

All tongue, even teeth, just messy, and deep, a pure display of the lust that had taken both of you hostage. His hands were in your hair, your body pressed so close against him, hips beginning to move again over his thigh. A few more soft, hushed, groans, and wet noises of passion, and you were gone.

You felt it snap, pulling back from the kiss only to fall forward onto his shoulder, muffling your moans into his shirt. It was insane, you thought, how he could rip out such a visceral reaction from you, a pleasure so overwhelming as you squeeze your legs over his thigh.

Easing you down, he rubbed soothing circles into your back, hushed words of praise tumbling from his lips.

Your eyes fluttered closed for a moment.

"My perfect little muse, so pretty, so beautiful," he sighed, hugging you close. "I can't wait to paint all your greedy desires onto my canvas."

⁺₊ / an: phew!! overdue and i feel like this isn't my best best work, but it doesss represent the chokehold this fish has on me 🙄 a girl's just gotta satisfy her rafayel cravings i guess!!

© rose-tinted-kalopsia. all rights reserved. do not: steal, copy, repost, reupload, modify, or claim any of my works as your own, regardless of credit given. absolutely do not use my works for AI training and other related purposes.

[pippin-katz]

Jayden, George & Cameos

Alright, maybe this is me being presumptuous, but I feel like I need to say something. I’m going to offer my two cents about the cameo situation.

I did not buy a cameo when George did it, but upon asking someone who did, they costed £40. The price of the joint cameo is evidently £80.

Is that too high of a price?

If you thought £40 for George’s cameo was fine, then you have to say “no”.

George by himself was £40. If Jayden made his own by himself, it would probably also be £40. Therefore, if you add them together, you get £80.

People need to understand that while they might have fun with the cameos, they are still working. Recording videos like that is exhausting, and if you don’t think so, you’ve clearly never done it. I have recorded reaction videos and after thoughts and stories for years, and I still get exhausted if I have to do a multiple part story, or do it over and over until I’m satisfied.

Now, I know a lot of people are peeved more about the phrasing of these joint cameos as a “gift for the fans” when the price might be out of budget for a lot of people.

But if you are throwing a tantrum over it, you need to sit the fuck down, and check your damn privilege.

It is a gift.

They don’t have to do this. They literally don’t. They don’t have to interact with us. They don’t have to post anything. They owe you nothing.

Instead, they have taken the time out of their days, their schedules, whatever they might be busy with, or even if they’re relaxing, and they’ve decided to record video messages for you.

Not to mention, do you even understand what they are putting themselves in risk of emotionally or mentally?

The very first thing that came to a LOT of people’s minds when this was announced was: “I hope no one asks them to kiss because we’ll never get Payneland.”

If you didn’t think that, congratulations! You have apparently been fortunate enough not to encounter what real Internet behavior is like. Or maybe you’re new to a fandom space, and this is your first time! Great!

You might be thinking: “No one would actually do that; at least not in this fandom!”

But the truth of the matter is that there are many people who would and probably WILL do that.

The anonymous nature of the Internet has enable millions, and I mean millions, of people to act on and voice their most disgusting and disturbing thoughts. The content or person does not always reflect on the people who digest or interact with it. There are monsters everywhere; they are in every space whether you encounter them or not.

By being online all of us open ourselves up to the risk of people attacking us or exposing us to things we do not enjoy or want. For people of any level of fame, it’s multiplied tenfold.

George and Jayden can turn off direct messages, block people, mute tags, and whatnot, so they can avoid most attempts to reach them. By offering these cameos, they are giving a direct route for people to type whatever the hell they want into their message, and whether they like it or not, they’ll probably be reading it.

This is an open invitation for those awful people to request anything, to say anything, to ask anything, even if they report it and don’t respond, they’ll likely see it.

Invasive questions about their sexualities, their relationships, their personal lives. Disgusting thirst messages. Disturbing requests asking for specific things to act as a replacement or substitute for what we would’ve liked to see in the show.

Anything and everything you can think of is possibly something they will encounter, and they’re willing to take that risk to give you something special. To talk directly to you, even if it’s only for a minute.

It’s become increasingly clear, to me at least, that Jayden is a sensitive soul. Not in a “can’t take a joke” way, or in any condescending way. He’s just kind. He’s kind in a way that is taken advantage of in online spaces. He’s also young. A lot of this is still new to him.

He apologizes like it’s his fault if his stream chat gets some bad people in it. He was talking about how he wanted to continue playing Detroit: Become Human really badly, but felt like we would be upset if he didn’t stream his entire play-through. He asked for a list of names of people who support him on Twitch, their usernames and actual names, because he wanted to keep track of them.

Jayden was really excited about the joint cameos. He looked so thrilled to talk about it, and was looking forward to hanging out with George, and doing this for fans.

When fans turned around and yelled about prices, it probably crushed him! Instead of reciprocated excitement, he got bitterness and hate. And for something that he might not even have control over, mind you.

It feels like he can never do enough to make fans happy.

It’s not his fault the show was canceled, but he probably feels just as bad about it as we all do! It’s disappointing! It’s upsetting! And he wanted to do it! But he can’t, and that has to feel frustrating as someone passionate about what they do.

It’s not his fault some fans are toxic or judgmental of every interaction he has with his community. It’s not his fault that people spread hate.

But it probably feels like he can at least put a stop to it by not continuing to do any of it. If he just stops streaming, no toxic chats. If he stops talking to fans, no people complaining about favoritism.

I don’t blame him for wanting to walk away entirely.

To wrap this up, if you have anything disrespectful to say about the boys or this situation, do us all a favor and keep your damn mouth shut.

I expected better from this fandom than behaving like entitled children. We’ve gained thousands of signatures, rallied together to buy a billboard for this show, but we can’t maintain a supportive space for the actors? How do you expect us to succeed in saving this show if we can’t even do that?

To make a long story short (too late), fans, do fucking better.

[haykawas]

✩•̩̩͙*˚ THE ART OF (NOT) PULLING YOUR BEST FRIEND

summary : You've always been good at hiding your feelings for your best friend, but when Satoru finally manages to land a date with the girl of his dreams, something seems to shift inside you. But don't worry, you have another best friend there who's more than willing to care for you.

word count : ~ 11K for all routes that are out, ~ 2.8K for this part. tags : best friend!to lovers, modern AU, best friends gojo & geto, fluff, angst, eventual smut, drama, love confessions, multiple choices standalone.

It is known that blue is your favorite color.

Blue like the sea. Like the sky on a particularly hot day. Blue like the feathers of a magnificent peacock, and the flesh of a ripe blueberry.

His eyes are blue. They’re this piercing, icy blue you can’t seem to get away from wherever you are. – It is a coincidence that they are your favorite shade of blue, too.

You don’t know when you started liking the color blue with so much passion, and you think maybe you always have. Yet you don’t do anything about it, you don’t go out of your way to profess your love for it. You don’t seek it out and won’t admit it’s the only color that’ll ever make you feel the way you do when you look at it.

It’s okay. There are many other shades to love. It’s just disheartening that it seems to be the only one that suits you so well.

And it is this same shade of blue that is sparkling in Satoru’s eyes, screaming ‘victory’ as he comes back to your table in a confident stride. The wide grin that is stretching his pink lips is triumphant, and you know what this means.

He actually did it.

He slams the piece of paper on the table, leaning at your level to rub it in your face, his sunglasses threatening to fall off his nose. – He always looks so cute when they do that, his nose slightly scrunching to keep them from doing so.

“Ha! You owe me ten bucks.”

You roll your eyes at him, clicking your tongue in annoyance. “I’m sure she took pity on you. That, or it’s a fake number.”

You hope it is, but you would be a fool to believe that. Just a look at your best friend would be enough to understand the fact that he could get anything he would ever want. Like he loved saying, his face card never declined. – To your dismay.

“Oh I knew you’d say that, so I called the number just in case. And guess what?”

“Ugh, Satoru? That’s fucking insane.” You cringe without waiting for him to finish what he has to say.

His eyes widen comically, pointing at you with accusation. “It’s not!”

Suguru also grimaces,  “It is. Creep.”

You grin and silently mouth back the word to your white-haired friend, mocking him.

Satoru rolls his eyes, already exasperated with the both of you, “Whatever you say. While you nerds are gonna be drowning in your video games, I’ll actually be getting some action tonight.” He winks, emphasizing the word action and you feign a gag. And you don’t have to try too hard for it to come out as genuine.

Suguru chimes in, sighing, “Just don’t come crying to us when she ghosts you, man. Again.”

You hum, your chin propped up on your hand, “He sure knows how to pick ‘em, hm, Suguru?”

“She’s different, guys, come on!” He whines.

“Weren’t the three other girls before different too?“

“I believe they were!“ You say, feigning the act of pushing imaginary glasses up your nose. Suguru chuckles, and you grin at him.

“Well, y’know…” He trails off, sighing in defeat because he knows he’s been cornered. “I just really don’t wanna screw this one up.”

You raise an eyebrow, a forced smile on your lips. “We’re just fucking with you, ‘Toru.” You smirk, “But don’t worry, we’ll keep the ice cream ready just in case you come back with your tail between your legs.”

He groans, “I swear you two are perfect for each other. Always teaming up on me like that! What have I done to deserve two mean best friends?”

Suguru looks at you in amusement, and you instantly meet his eyes with a cheeky grin of your own. 

“Two pretty best friends.”

At this meaningful exchange, Satoru groans, throwing his hands in the air.

“See? My point exactly!”

You can’t help but let your lips curve into a half-smile at his antics, and you don’t notice how your eyes seem to shine so much brighter when they are laid on your best friend, but Suguru does. He knows you by heart, having spent so many days and so many nights by your side. 

At the time, you and Satoru came into a package deal as much as Satoru and him did. Naturally, after spending so many years by your side, he understands the mechanics of your brain. Sometimes, such as now, he even senses something’s wrong before you even do.

Right now, he knows that your heart aches. That it must be clenching painfully in your chest, that you must be punishing yourself for not feeling happy for your best friend when he’s been meaning to ask this girl out for weeks now. But how could you, when the mere thought of him touching and tasting someone else’s skin makes you feel like you can’t breathe? Like always, Suguru can’t help but want to protect you.

So he calls your name, and when you turn to him, he leans in to whisper in your ear, “Hey, you really okay with this?”

You try to muster a grin, though it doesn’t quite reach your eyes, and like always he sees right through you. “Me? Why wouldn’t I be okay? ‘m just worried he’ll get his hopes up for nothing, that’s all.”

He lifts a brow not quite buying your act, but he doesn’t say a thing, and you’re thankful for that.

“What do you say we give him a taste of his own medicine then?”

You arch a brow in confusion, and he waves a hand before explaining himself. 

“Remember when you used to date this Nanami guy and Satoru constantly crashed your dates with phone calls and weird texts?”

“And when he actually showed up out of nowhere at the theater and shoved himself between us! I swear I was gonna rip him to shreds.”

“You gave him the silent treatment for a week after that, I thought I was gonna go crazy with his constant blabbering.” He groans, his almond eyes slightly crinkling as he reminisces your high school days.

You scoff, amused, “He always had some lame excuses, too. Nanami ended up breaking up with me 'cause he thought I was cheating on him with that fucker.” 

“So what do you think? Up for a little fun?” He says as he looks at you with mirth in his eyes, waiting for you to catch on. When you do, you can’t help but gasp at the implications of his words.

“Are you serious?”

He grins cheekily, “Let’s go to the same place he’s taking his date, but in disguise.”

“That does sound fun…” Suguru looks at you with anticipation. “But it’s very childish.”

“Yep.”

“And he might see us.”

“That’s a possibility.”

“He’ll be pissed, too…”

“Oh, he will.” He smirks and you can’t help but mirror his expression.

“I’m in.”

“Hey! What are you two whispering about?”

“Hm? Just girl talk, you wouldn’t get it.” You answer, and you hear Suguru snicker in the back. You also can’t help the cheeky grin forming on your lips when you notice Satoru’s expression, but you don’t give him time to argue. “Hey, where did you say your date was, again?”

That’s how you find yourself standing before the restaurant. You can’t help but scoff at the sight.

“Papa’s, seriously? It’s like he’s begging to get dumped!”

Your eyes shift to Suguru, and you burst out laughing at the sight. “You look absolutely ridiculous.” You say with a grin, and he mirrors your expression with a raised brow.

“Oh, and you don’t?”

Your eyes meet and you try to hold it in, – you’re smiling so wide it hurts your cheeks. Suguru turns his neck and averts his eyes so he doesn’t laugh, but you can see the grin stretching his lips.

“The mustache is killing me, man, I’m gonna blow our cover!” You laugh, “Take it off.”

“And ruin the vibe I went for?” He shakes his head, “Just say you want to sabotage me.”

“I do! You look way too hot in this, our cover will be blown immediately!” You tease.

He arches a brow, a hint of amusement gleaming in his eyes, “Do I now?”

“Uh uh,” You nod, “I’m this close to calling off the operation just so I can rock your world.” He lets out a deep laugh, hiding his mouth with the back of his hand as his eyes crinkle in amusement.

You return his smile.

What should have been a depressing evening turned into one of the funniest nights of your life. You would try your best to keep yourself from laughing while Suguru would act all serious, without a hint of a smile. He plays his part so well that he makes it even harder for you to keep up your facade. Your laughter echoes through the streets as you try hard not to attract attention, failing spectacularly when you happen to catch a glimpse of Suguru’s costume, –  especially his top hat. 

He has to be the only person in the world who’d think of dressing up as freaking Abraham Lincoln to spy on someone.

After this night, the bond between you two grows even stronger. Late-night conversations become the norm, and you’ve grown used to hanging out without Satoru.

It’s also due to the fact that Satoru would always find himself too busy to spend time with you, for some reason. He also misses on movie nights, and Satoru usually never misses movie nights.

You suspect it has to be because he’s seeing that girl from the Café.

You don’t want to think about it. Nor do you want to think about the distance that is growing between you. Yet you can’t deny that you miss him.

You miss him terribly, because he’s always been the only constant in your life and now it seems like he isn’t anymore. You’ve always shared everything with him, and him with you, so having him act so cold towards you feels strange. It feels like a knife in your heart.

You exhale, your finger hovering over the send button as you contemplate whether to send the message. Even if you don’t think you’ve done anything wrong, you refuse to let miscommunication come between the two of you.

you SATORU . you still coming tonight???:p

No. Too casual.

you wyd tonight? still on 4 movie night?;)

Ugh, too horny.

you Are you coming tonight or are you still avoiding us?

Hell no. Too truthful.

you you coming tonight?

Sent. As soon as you hit the send button, you throw your phone on the couch and bury it under a mountain of pillows. You sigh, feeling slightly stupid for freaking out over such a simple text.

But you never fight with Satoru, this is something you just don't do.

You’re so lost in your own embarrassment that you don’t see the screen of your phone light up, displaying Satoru’s contact name in bold letters.

satoru yeah i'll be there

The scent of sugar fills the kitchen, and you’re lost in thought as you watch the bag of dried corn turn into sweet treats under the microwave’s heat. You sigh for what feels like the hundredth time tonight, and Suguru groans at the sound.

“My mom used to say sighs brought out the devil.” He lifts a brow. “At this rate I’ll have to incense the whole house when you leave.”

“Your mom’s way too superstitious, and you know that.” You roll your eyes. “But if the devil’s real I hope he takes you first. You’re a pain in my ass.”

He hums with a small smile, “Seems like you’re in a mood to me.”

“Classy. And a bit sexist.”

“You know what else’s classy? Not burning up the only bag of popcorn we have.” He throws with a smirk as he leaves the kitchen.

You curse at him under your breath and make quick work to retrieve what can be saved. When you’re done, you meet him on the sofa, and find him already sprawled out.

He scoots over to make room for you, and you let yourself fall on the cushions, propping your legs on his thighs. You place the bowl between the two of you, and there’s silence before you hear Suguru snort.

“I tried, okay? It was all burnt!”

“You’re so not talented at this.” He bites his lip to avoid laughing, while his gaze keeps flickering from the bowl to your eyes.

“Stop looking at it!” You move the bowl out of his sight, “You won’t have any if you keep making fun of me.” You threaten, and Suguru retreats, his hands raised in mock surrender.

“Alright, alright! Give it back and sit down, the movie’s starting.” 

“I wish someone loved me like this.” 

You don’t realize you’ve said this out loud until you feel Suguru’s burning gaze on you. You don’t know if it’s because you’ve suddenly blurted out a lame, depressing confession, or because he thinks you’re crazy for saying it when you’re watching Shrek.

“I’m sure there is.”

You scoff, “Yeah, right.”

You turn your gaze back to the TV, but you can’t ignore the look he’s giving you. You try to ignore it, but he doesn’t let it go. And you know he has something to say. Something you won’t like.

“What?” You finally blurt out, appraising him with narrowed eyes.

“When are you going to tell him?”

“Tell who?”

“Don’t play dumb.” He gives you a blank stare, unimpressed by your act. “Everyone and their mother knows you have it bad for Satoru.”

“Suguru…” You groan.

“Go on, tell me I’m wrong.”

Your mouth opens to try and muster up a lie, but you can’t come up with anything. You can’t lie about this, and he knows it.

He smiles, “See? You can’t even deny it.”

“He has a girlfriend.”

“Oh, did he tell you? Or did you just pull this one out of your ass?”

You roll your eyes, pushing him away. He chuckles, enjoying the sheer embarrassment displayed on your face. 

“You know he didn’t. But come on! You and I both know he never misses movie night, and he’s been bailing on us for weeks now.” You frown, “What kind of best friend does that?”

Suguru hums. “Yeah, sure. A best friend.”

You look at him with arched brows. He’s testing your limits, and while you’re used to this side of him, you’re not in the mood to play. At this point, you’ve both drowned out the sound of the TV, you glaring at him for forcing you to face the truth, and him just waiting for you to come to terms with your own feelings.

You let out a humorless laugh, throwing your hands in the air, “You know what?” 

“Yes, I’m in love with Satoru! So what? Do you expect me to run to his house and confess my undying love for him before it’s ‘too late’?” You exclaim, and you’re too engrossed in your speech to notice Suguru’s panicked expression as he looks over your shoulder, or his hand gestures signaling you to cut the conversation short.

You don’t realise you’re no longer alone until the sound of movement startles you. You turn around with a jump, and what you see makes your blood run cold. Satoru is standing in the doorway, his presence having gone unnoticed until then. You can see the shock on his face, a mixture of surprise and confusion.

You’re paralyzed. 

You feel like the sick butt of a joke. And if the fact that your childhood best friend heard you profess your love for him wasn't enough to make you wish you were dead, it’s the look on his face that crushes you the most.

His eyes search for yours in hope you’ll explain yourself, and it makes you want to disappear from the surface of the Earth.

You never wanted him to know. You never wanted him to look at you like this. Like… he pitied you.

Suguru extends an arm to hold you back, but he’s a few seconds too late. You can’t bear this, so much that you don’t let anyone say a single word before you flee the apartment, ducking under Satoru’s arm without sparing him a glance.

You absolutely won’t stand there and listen to him apologize for not feeling the same way you do.

You refuse to feel your best friends’ sorry glances on you as they comfort you. You know it’s cowardly, that you should just stayed and talked about the elephant in the room, or just lied your way out of it.

You didn't, though. You fled, and the shame is eating you alive, but you couldn't stay there.

Not today. Your dignity won’t let you.

Yet, it seems like fate has other plans for you, because you hear quick, familiar,  footsteps hurrying towards you.

And you know it’s him. 

Him? What do you mean by him? Help a poor writer out!

Suguru Geto, who else?

Of course it's Gojo Satoru.

hello hello, welcome to my standalone first choose your own adventure!! there are three routes to this story (one has two possible branches), two are already out, one is coming soon! i absolutely loved working on this, although this took lots of time. i hope you enjoy it!

rbs are much appreciated <3

[mvltisstuff]

hi!! could you possibly do a one-shot with evan buckley where reader is having a horrible time and asks to come over but once they do they attempt to undress buck and have (ya know) with him but he realizes like right after his shirt was taken off that reader is trembling and shaking.

maybe it’s because of a fight with their sibling or something but it ends with him just holding them until they fall asleep and he’s all like “i’m gonna marry them.”

OFC you can take this into a whole different route!! thank you so much in advance!

in for it - e.b

summary: when y/n gets hot, and especially bothered, buck has to figure out why.

evan buckley x reader

a/n: hi!! again, so sorry for how delayed this is, but i hope its still enjoyed for those willing to read :))

buck and y/n had been texting all day, shooting each other suggestive messages and flirty little remarks. buck knew he was in for a treat when he got home, considering all of the bold things his girl had said to him throughout his shift.

however, that was not the case. when he returned home, he called out for y/n, but got no response. he got slightly worried, but y/n's a big girl, she knows what she's doing. he placed his bags down by the front door and pulled out his phone.

Hey, just got home. Everything good?

Yeah. I'm on my way home

he obviously believed her, he has no reason to not trust her. so, he took a beer out of the fridge and went to go sit on the couch and wait for her.

when he heard the doorknob twist, he got a familiar feeling of excitement he always knew when y/n would come home. he heard her kick her shoes off and throw her bag down. it sounded louder than normal, so she must've been really excited to come home to him.

when she came over, she threw her jacket on one of the chairs, leaving her in jeans and a white tank top. she looked as beautiful as always, never needing to dress up for buck because anything she wore was pure fashion in his eyes.

"hey, sexy," buck flirted as she walked over to him. she instantly grabbed his face, pulling his lips onto hers. he could smell the wine on her breath and the taste of it on her tongue. her hands wandered around his neck, slightly gripping onto it. he could feel her racing heart against his own chest, almost faster than he has ever felt it. "how were things at joes?"

her fingers quickly ran down to the hem of his t-shirt, tucking underneath and starting to pull it up. right before the fabric covered his eyes, he took note of y/n's red eyes and furrowed brows with her jaw tight. "fuck him." she spat out after his face was out. he looked her directly in the eyes as her hands continued to wander down to his crotch.

her fingers twitched against his belt as she struggled to unbuckle it, and her breath became more hitched. her face had not changed expression, like she only wanted to get this over with. when she would take her hands away, the only thing buck could notice was her shaking.

'wait, wait-" buck starts. "slow down for a sec."

"are you not hard?"

"well, i was, because im always hard with you, but not anymore. i can't be when you're so visibly upset."

"i'm not upset," she murmurs under her breath, down on her knees in front of him.

"and im not blind, baby," he grabs onto her side and pulls her onto his lap. "tell me whats wrong."

"he acts like i owe him everything. he acts like i do nothing for our parents and he doesn't even want me as his sister. why do i always have to make everyone happy?"

"but you need to be happy first."

"he doesn't care."

"is that an explanation for why you tried to suck me off while being so pissed?"

"i thought i'd start with making you happy," she tells. "and you love blowjobs."

buck chuckles while running a hand down her back. "but you make me the happiest. and he's a douche. you deserve more as a sister and a daughter."

y/n grins at him, her body starting to calm down against his. "thank you. you make me happy, too."

"of course, angel," buck leans back to get a better look at the beautiful girl on his lap. "we can keep going if you want, but you look tired."

"i am, but i want you to be satisfied."

"i will be fully satisfied taking you upstairs, getting changed, pouring us more wine, and laying with you all night."

"are you sure?"

"i will spend the rest of my life assuring you that that is all i ever need from you."

she places a more gently hand on his cheek, pecking him on the lips and pulling away with a smile. "i love you."

"i love you, too." he taps her hip with his finger. "now, go put on our show and change, and ill go get the pinot gris."

[jeankirsteinsgrlfrnd]

How would the aot boys react to reader friend zoning them lol

friend-zoned

eren would act super cool and nonchalant about it but in reality, he’s going absolutely feral inside. he doesn’t understand why you’d reject him because he can get any girl he wishes. what’s so different about you? he becomes super clingy after this, trying to win you over.

armin would beat himself up internally. he’d feel really stupid, wondering why he couldn’t see the signs that you’re just friends. he sulks for a day or two but he gets past it because he isn’t willing to let your friendship go to waste.

jean doesn’t believe you when you tell him he’s nothing more than a friend. he insists that there’s been a romance blossoming and he doesn’t understand why you’re saying this when you clearly have feelings for him.

connie’s pretty disappointed but he doesn’t have a hard time letting it go. infact, he makes jokes about it all the time. he also pretends like he’s mortally wounded by it just to make you feel bad and whenever you apologize for it, he just laughs at you.

reiner takes it a little…personally. he has trouble with rejection already and you didn’t help by friend zoning him. he’s offended and stops talking to you for a while. he’s pretty stubborn but he comes around eventually and apologizes for making you feel like you owe him something.

bertholdt is sad but he understands that you can’t just magically change how you feel. additionally, his feelings never go away but he really does try to suppress them. he wishes you’d change your mind and he’s willing to wait if you ever do.

zeke is just fine with being friends. that’s what he says, anyway. he still makes moves on you, insisting that you guys can just ‘kiss as friends.’ it’s flattering but he comes on a little strong. eventually, you have to be firm with him and tell him to knock it off.

porco takes it to heart but he’s more angry than anything. he says you’ve been leading him on, teasing him, etc. you apologize if you made it seem that way but he doesn’t want to hear it. he just goes out and finds another girl in hopes of pissing you off enough to get him out of the friend zone.

erwin doesn’t understand the concept of a friend zone. he knows that it’s allegedly a bad spot to be put in but he thinks that if you’re truly a good friend to someone, the zone is a fine place to be. so, when you tell him you’re not into him like that, he understands and is just happy being your friend.

levi isn’t particularly satisfied with your answer but he doesn’t push it. he respects you and your feelings enough to not be a dick about it. however, he can be a little toxic. he’ll be your friend but he will scare your dates away. he doesn’t mean to but he can’t help it. he’ll crawl out of that friend zone one way or another.

here’s the link to my jean fic that has a lot of connie and ymir time in it. oh it’s also a slow burn

[grimesgirll]

“wouldn’t kill ya’ to smile, wouldn’t it, baby?”

your gaze goes upward from the fire you’re building to the man standing before you.

“fuck is there to smile about?” you quip quietly, pursing your lips and turning your attention back to the task at hand.

you should’ve known that would set off your ex boyfriend. the boyfriend who should really be your ex right now. you feel him behind you and eventually in front of you when he leans down to gently grasp your face. shane tilts your chin upwards in his hand while you simply glare.

“been gettin’ real tired of your attitude.”

“makes two of us.”

something in his eyes clouds and you can nearly see the frustration bubbling beneath his surface. “you know you could really have it worse somewhere else, girl.” he lets go of your chin. “you should be happy to be here and not out there alone.”

you can’t argue with him. after these past few weeks, you’d endure whatever macho act he manufactured just to make it to safety. anything at this point to get to richmond. wherever noah’s family was posted up had to be better than cannibal country or cop city.

playing the role of shane’s personal diplomat is exhausting but it’s kept conflict from escalating more than once. without you, he would’ve for sure gotten himself killed by now. it goes both ways as you can count on more than one hand the number of times he’s saved your life.

“we had a home. we’re gonna find a new one. until then you better be thankful to have someone looking out for you.” the man explains to you. “someone takin’ care of you.”

you snort. “you should be happy i let you fuck me.”

your boyfriend’s nostrils flare. “wanna repeat that?”

you don’t spare him a glance. “be happy i haven’t left you already. if it wasn’t the fucking end of times, our relationship would be toast.” you say that like it isn’t already.

but you didn’t leave him. how could you with the world falling apart around you?

and with your newfound sense of responsibility to lori and carl, staying with shane made the most sense. why not keep trying with someone who held you at night and fought tooth and nail to protect you.

that isn’t everything though.

he narrows his eyes at you. “wouldn’t be a problem if you weren’t always findin’ one.”

“you fucking lori was a problem that i found?”

he throws his hands up. “why the fuck do you keep mentionin’ lori? that’s fucked,” he scolds your name. “that’s my daughter’s mother.”

“i’m not blaming her, i’m blaming you.” you discern. “you’ve been an asshole ever since everything happened.”

“c’mere.” shane pulls you to your feet and drags you away from the fire, leaving the task to sasha who’d been sitting nearby. shane has you on your feet and moving towards the back of the rest stop your group was posted up l in. “let’s take a walk.”

“shane! i’m about to make dinner over the fire,” you complain and pull back your arm but shane just wraps you in his embrace and wills you towards the grassy picnic area facing the forest.

“c’mon, one step at a time, baby. don’t make me carry you.”

“fucker.”

“watch it,” shane warns and steers you towards a dusty wooden gazebo where rick is standing with a radio, trying to get a signal from the looks of it.

“any luck?” shane calls out like he didn’t just forcibly walk you from the fire circle out here.

the bearded man turns around. he doesn’t have to shake his head or give you two a word to answer his friend’s question. an icy blue stare goes over you and shane.

“what’s going on?”

“oh, we just thought we’d see what you were up to. see if you were busy.” the ex-cop with his arms wrapped around you from behind declares.

rick drops his radio into his back pocket. “‘m not.”

“perfect. this one wants to thank you.”

rick’s dark brow goes up in question and you shake your head, asking, “huh?”

“what? you don’t wanna thank rick? don’t be rude, baby.”

you owe the man your life a million times over.

rick had saved you, shane, judith, carl, and the others so many times. he’d led you through the debilitating winters and the most nightmare inducing storms you could imagine facing in the end of times. metaphorical or not, rick had seen you all through more than you’d ever pay him back for.

the man who stayed up with you while you settled judith and helped you soothe the little girl who didn’t belong to either of you.

the rugged man looks on from shane to you not quite comprehending. it only takes the feel of shane’s hand on your ass to understand.

fuck. not now, shane, you plead internally.

“i want you to show our friend rick how grateful you are that he’s gotten us this far. huh?” shane places a steel hand on your back as he shoves you forward towards rick, nudging you onto your knees when you’re dawdling too much for him to tolerate. “go on.”

“shane.” the man above you warns.

“no, rick.” your boyfriend stops him, dark irises widening. “i see the way she looks at you and the way you look at her. don’t feel bad about it.” he chuckles. “think about it as payback for lori.”

a “what the fuck” is breaching your lips before you know it.

“why do you talk to her like that?” rick questions, chest puffing out slightly. “everything she’s stood you through.”

shane shrugs. “i’m just thinkin’ it’d help us all relax. lower tension, y’know. after we were almost slaughtered like cattle back there.”

your mind flashes to terminus. you hadn’t seen rick, shane, and some of the other men of your group tied up and prepared to have their throats slashed, but the scene made your stomach flip.

rick looks down at you, maybe considering the fact that he does have a lot of steam to let off. nearly a year’s worth to be honest.

“you been thinkin’ about me?” he inquires with a step closer to you, dipping his hand to cup your face.

beneath your leader, you feel small. ten feet tall, you’d feel insignificant compared to rick. that man has more guts and drive than you could ever admit to. more than shane could ever dream of. the thought scratches an itch you didn’t realize lay dormant.

“yes,” you exhale sweetly, almost giving away your giggle when shane has to pick up his jaw. “especially ever since the prison fell.”

“really?”

you nod. “thank you, rick.” you express your gratitude with parted lips. “you take such good care of all of us. if you really want to use my mouth, i would blow you.”

shane is stuttering a curse and rick just whistles.

“good girl,” shane praises. “never knew you had it in you.”

you wait on your knees for rick, beaming up at him.

rick has the look of a man considering letting his best friend’s girlfriend - who he has at least fifteen years on - blow him. he thumbs your soft lips, trying to convince himself not to. even under that newly acquired hardened exterior, rick is calculated.

it’s not until he lowers his hands at his sides and croons a, “only if you want to, darlin,” that has you undoing his belt and yanking down his pants.

you slow your roll once you come into contact with his underwear. beneath those dark blue boxers is a rock hard cock.

a noise escapes you that you hope your boyfriend doesn’t hear. rick is bigger than shane. you want to burst into laughter. shane had to have seen the outline of rick’s thick cock sometime during their years together in some locker room somewhere.

thoughts of if he’ll fit or not consume you momentarily until your hands are moving automatically and you’re met with the real thing. you feel hands in your hair and tense.

“down and up. you know how to do it.”

shane is behind you with his sturdy hands on top of your head, ready to guide you down onto his friend.

“just let her do what she wants.” rick snaps at the other man, exhaling at the feel of your hand around him.

“fine.” shane throws his hands up and goes to lean against the rest stop information board.

ever the sore loser, shane pouts but lets you sink further on your knees to begin by trailing a stripe from rick’s balls up to the tip of his cock. back down you go again to lick circles around him, working a pattern with your tongue.

the noises coming out of rick have you agreeing with shane - he really needs this. after everything, rick deserves to close his eyes and let you descend below his shaft to suckle first one side, then the other, while he lays his hands in your lustrous hair.

eventually you’re lapping around again and you circle your tongue around him, eyes widening in surprise at his moans.

shane snickers. “you like her mouth, rick? me too. don’t blow your load too early, bud, i know you probably can’t help it.”

you feel the man in your mouth tense above you. he ignores shane, snapping his hips lightly into your face instead. despite the initial humiliation of the situation and the shane of it all, you find yourself getting excited. a wet patch forms and you can tell by how hard you grind down onto yourself as rick starts to twitch.

“needy slut,” shane comments.

you roll your eyes, not missing a beat as you bob up and down on your leader. his spit covered dick disappears in and out of your mouth. you do your best to fit what you can of his length that is too large for your mouth.

rick doesn’t have a problem though. all he needs is to dig a little deeper in your hair and angle his cock down your throat. you’re so startled you gag but at the same time you moan and whimper around him.

a cry around him from a particularly harsh jostle of his pelvis against your face is what it takes to start spilling in your mouth. your foggy brain can barely decipher what to do next but you remember that you’re wearing one of your favorite sweaters and suck him dry.

rick isn’t out of your mouth when shane is nearly shoving him out of the way and grasping onto you, directing your head towards his now nude dick.

“my turn,” shane takes rick’s spot instantly, not sparing you more than a breath or two before his girthy cock is against your lips.

“that’s not good for her knees, man.” rick is saying but shane just laughs.

“you weren’t sayin’ that when you were in the one in her mouth.”

shane is taking up your mouth before you know it and you gag immediately when he drives like he’s aiming for your uvula.

your noises muffle around his cock but the sheriff looking on still hears them - is still affected by then. every pump of his fellow ex-officer’s hips made you gag, forced to swallow the burning feeling building up in your throat.

rick can’t take his eyes off you. after receiving the same treatment, he’s still mesmerized by the whole thing; the spontaneity of it, how absurd it all was, how soft and plush your mouth had been, how perfect you are.

“never knew you were such a whore,” shane groans with a gasp of your name, pushing your head down when you start to slide up and off of him to say something. “fuck, you’re so good for me, baby, always have been.”

his grip is buried in your long hair. rick observes with his half hard cock in his hand, eyebrow arching lightly at the sight of shane’s face. your boyfriend tightens his grip and before you know it his cock is thrust into your throat. a few more slams of his hips and he’s holding you firmly while you gulp down his length - and his release.

shane backs out of your mouth only to snake a rough hand down your pants.

“shane!” you’re nearly squealing when he thumbs down your panties and moves towards your sensitive patch of nerves. your face is overtaken with a blush again as your leader palms his hard on on the bench next to you.

whispering low in your ear, your boyfriend hums;

“now, you wanna show rick how grateful you are with your pussy?”

[animalluver8153]

Batman Captures Vlad Masters

Why?

Because, once again, Vlad wanted something he couldn’t have.

Wayne Enterprises stood proud and held its own for generations. If Bruce Wayne wasn’t beloved he was definitely envied. Proud father of many sons and now his upcoming wedding to the beautiful Selena Kyle made him the talk of elite social circles.

Vlad was never one to congratulate the success of others.

Timothy Drake, a child in a position too large for him to fill, would be the first to go. After all, it would really be too easy. Of course everyone would believe the boy would foolishly sign his company away to VladCo in a predatory takeover. He had met the boy a few times already, and Drake’s reputation proceeded him. Making him board a private jet for parts unknown in the dead of night would be simple. The scandal would be too much for him so of course he would run away in shame. Once Vlad stopped overshadowing him the plot would only cement itself into place. Let him make excuses to his too trusting adoptive father. The damage would be done.

Vlad could be more spontaneous from there.

He didn’t expect his plans to go wrong from the very start. The second his invisible doppelgänger attempted to overshadow the boy a series of alarms sounded throughout the office. The windows instantly secured themselves with solid iron and the once wooden door was secured behind an imposing series of metal cords.

Vlad let his genuine surprise play into his act. This was supposed to be a simple meeting about a possible joint project. But he could feel the distress of his doppelgänger. A burning sensation clamped down around his core.

Drake looked at him with a clinical eye. With a flick of his wrist he silenced the shrill klaxons, revealing the sound of chiming cords hiding beneath them. Vlad could feel the clamp around his core shift, but not painfully so. He blustered, trying to find the right words.

“So it’s magical then?” Drake appeared to be talking to himself. Then another flick of the wrist to activate the intercom on his desk.

“Tam? We seem to be having a false alarm. Could you tell Bruce to stop blowing up my phone? And send electrical to check the override. I don’t care if Chris is currently on Mars, if he isn’t here to fix this he’s fired.”

He ended the intercom and continued to stare at Vlad. Vlad might be in some kind of hold but it wasn’t enough to stop him. He willed his doppelgänger to try again but the strangling sensation intensified until it destabilized enough to become visible.

“A ghost,” the brat looked satisfied of all things as he stood up.

Now Vlad just had to kill him.

But before he could stand the office began to shift again. Lights flashed and metal clanged and Vlad found himself pinned beneath more cords. He looked away from the brat long enough to realize his double was similarly pinned. Drake took the opportunity to disappear himself.

Free from an eyewitness, Vlad ordered his visage to fight to the bitter end. Unfortunately the bindings proved too chaotic the maneuver around. The resulting struggle was enough to dissipate his double, letting its bindings cool to the floor. Vlad looked down at his own to see tiny runes etched into each cord. Patters of ancient languages and runes each fought to bind him. Each individually might be shaken off but their combined power was too much a mess to out maneuver.

Vlad was still plotting when a familiar green light began to pull him out of the cords while also compressing him down.

<<<>>>

Vlad Masters had covered his tracks well, but not well enough. His background and financial records didn’t hold up against Batman-level scrutiny. Enough former CEOs were left in the wake of innocuous business meetings that every precaution was taken. Even the more eccentric ones.

“Dammit, I owe Nightwing dinner for this.”

“You knew magic was the most likely possibility,” Batman secured the thermos into a carrying case etched in runes.

“The ghost-catching thermos threw me off,” That the two mad scientists swore by it’s effectiveness even as their young son replaced the one they were selling with a different, more enhanced one, was also cause for doubt.

“Constantine will be in Gotham within the hour. We’ll know more then.”