#to find out it was an animal wedding

[octoooo]

Sabibun & Catyuu doodles

Honeymoon time

Also

[zarnzarn]

The doors to Olympus are sturdy and strong, given everyone's preferences for drama and slamming said doors open and sending them cracking into the wall whenever the opportunity arises. Which is why it's a surprise when they creak open during the once-a-decade pantheon meeting; less so because no entity worth their salt would take so long to open the doors, and more so because everyone who is anyone is already there.

But if everyone is being honest with themselves- which no one is, usually- these gatherings are boring enough that the bland conversation is dropped immediately in favour of craning their necks to catch a glimpse of whatever is coming to relieve them of their boredom.

When the doors finally open however, several of the pantheon murmur in surprise.

"Odysseus," Athena whispers, wide-eyed as she pushes herself off her throne to her feet. It is him- in the king's garb he was buried in but the face he has when he reached home, hair till the shoulders and speckled with grey, face oddly blank. His feet are transparent.

"What are you doing here, sceptre?" Poseidon booms, hair the color of a stormy sea. Zeus, beside him, looks reserved, observing the ghost with something approaching curiosity- eyes flicking to the lightning scars on his daughter's face and back. "Your time has long passed, and Hades-"

"It is a temporary agreement," Odysseus says curtly, barely sparing him a glance as he approaches his patron. "Athena."

Her armour clinks as she steps forward and the gods all twitch, trading glances. Owls are silent creatures- to have her aspect so affected to make noise was... uneasy to say the least. She even holds herself different than usual, something like confused delight shining in her eyes. "How did you-"

"Did you sleep with my wife?"

The throne room is silent. Several jaws drop.

Athena straightens back up, blinking in surprise. She looks a bit shifty, some of the nymphs closest whisper to each other, which- well, almost every single god present owed some part of their existence to the mere story of Odysseus loving his wife.

Would he fight his own patron goddess over it in front of Mount Olympus, though? He certainly was unbalanced enough; Athena herself looked rather uncertain of her odds, even though-

"Are you addled in death, King of Ithaka?" Artemis drawls, looking amused. "Did you forget that your own patron is celibate? Whatever rumor you-"

"No, I-" Athena says suddenly, shifting her spear to her other hand. "I did."

Artemis chokes on her breath and several assorted divine beings gasp in shock and the rest shouting for explanations, although everyone is nearly drowned out by Aphrodite's loud, "WHAT?"

Odysseus inhales sharply and pinches the bridge of his nose. "I cannot believe you."

"She asked-" Athena starts, only to be drowned out by the din of various beings screeching and shouting about the scandal.

"ATHENA!" Hera hisses, peacock tail fanning behind her sharply as she pushes herself up. "Explain yourself!"

Athena half-turns to face her, face creased in a frown. "Mother, I-"

"LET ME REPHRASE!" Odysseus cuts in loudly, and the shouting settles down into silence. He walks to his patron, eyes blazing. "I cannot believe," he throws his clenched fists wide as he growls the last word, "-you took Penelope to bed-" Athena surprisingly stays still as he reaches her, mouth falling open as he grabs her by the chiton to yank her down, uncaring of the gasps of horror from all around as he snarls, "-before you ever kissed me."

And then Odysseus grabs Athena by the face roughly and kisses her.

This time Aphrodite's shriek cannot be escaped by anyone.

"Aphrodite, please," Zeus says a few moments later, wincing as his throne reforms around him, stained oddly pink. Quite a few minor entities have discorporated, and the ones nearest to her are still trying to regenerate their hearing. "Control yourself."

Their eyes land back on where Athena has dropped her spear- dropped her spear, Ares in the corner seems to be having some minor hysteria over this, well warranted- and is also on the floor, still being thoroughly kissed by that insufferable, mannerless hero of hers, perched on her stomach to reach. Zeus inhales in fury, Poseidon close behind him as the shock wears off, lightning crackling around his fingers as he opens his mouth to shout- of all the indignities-

"If you two ruin this for me," Aphrodite thunders, warping in front of them and glaring. "I will make you both regret it."

Both gods visibly blanch at the threat, taken aback for one brief moment. Threats from Aphrodite are far worse than any of her more violent siblings, at the end of the day.

Zeus visibly gathers himself just as Athena's helmet clatters to the floor, and he gains a second wind immediately, eye twitching as he spreads a hand to the spectacle in the middle of the hall. "WHAT MANNER OF DISRESPECT IS THIS? TO BARGE INTO OUR MEETING AND THROW ONE OF THE OLDEST GODDESSES TO THE FLOOR LIKE A COMMON WENCH-"

"Zeus," Hera says quietly. Everyone falls silent, although it's not quite enough to stop the two tangled together on the ground. She clears her throat, which finally seems to get through to Athena, who had finally seemed to have gotten over her shock enough to reach out, hands hovering over Odysseus hesitantly. Still, at the noise she seems to remember herself, pushing herself up on an elbow and dislodging him enough to break their necking. He pouts at her, but Athena's eyes are too glazed over to notice, heaving for breath.

Hera opens her mouth to speak, crown manifesting on her brow as she steps in front of the throne, but closes it as the door rattles again.

This time, the spectre shimmers with a faint hint of scales that comes with a freshwater nymph's heritage and excited whispers starved for drama explode across the room as the Queen of Ithaka steps into the room, skirts hitched in her hand and panting as if she'd been running.

"Your Graces," She bows respectfully before entering, Spartan princess through and through, until she catches sight of her husband and Athena, the former of whom seems to have taken the opportunity to start kissing the wisdom goddess again, fingers in her curls.

"What are you doing?" She snaps, rushing over. The entire courtroom holds its breath. She slaps her husband upside the head, making him yelp and move back to shoot her a betrayed look. Athena looks even further dazed than before, cheeks red. "Argos has more manners than you! No wonder Lady Athena wanted nothing to do with you- ah, hello, darling, by the way."

"Penelope," Athena murmurs hoarsely, and the Queen of Ithaka leans down to kiss her as well.

Odysseus chuckles, then jumps with everyone else as Hera slams a hand down on the throne elegantly, cracking it to the base.

"Ah, goddess-" He says, clambering off Athena to bow.

"Silence," Hera interrupts, holding up a hand, eyes cold. "You will not say anything to me apart from an explanation. My agreement for your release from Ogygia was due to the assurance that your marriage was one of the truest I have ever witnessed, conveyed by Athena herself when bartered with all of us to let you go. Tell me, was it a ploy? Because from the disgraceful looks of it, this seems to not be the case in the slightest."

Odysseus frowns, face twisting in confusion. "Athena bartered with...?" He turns to look at his patron, who stares back, unspeaking. His eyes flicker to the lightning scar over her right eye as Penelope traces it with horrified eyes and a gentle thumb, and understanding seems to dawn.

For a moment, rage seems to fill him, glaring with a hatred towards Zeus that everyone whispered later wasn't met by the god king with anger, but a flicker of remorse- before he visibly throws it away behind Athena's old smile and bows.

"God-queen," He says formally, gracefully. Hera twitches a bit, and they'll all talk later about how odd it was to so clearly see Athena's younger mannerisms in the man, down to the curl of the letters. "My marriage to Penelope has never been false, never been broken, this I promise you." He takes Penelope's hand and squeezes it for emphasis, and she raises them as acknowledgement. "But... can you not argue that Athena has been part of our marriage all this time? From its start, where she advised me on courting and her on what to look for, to the twenty years she spent with both of us- me on the battlefield and Penelope in the court; to say nothing of how she helped raise our son and lived in our palace in the days after. And is she not so unbearably beautiful that even my Penelope couldn't wait-" He shoots a glare at her, which Penelope returns with a smile. "-when the chance was presented? How can you fault us for disgrace, after being so long apart from our wife?"

Hera raises both eyebrows at the impudence, the kind of disbelieving expression that hides a warning to tread carefully. "So you claim to be both married to Pallas Athena?"

"In every way that matters except legality," Odysseus says, fearlessly. He is dead, after all, what much can you do to a shade that they didn't already put him through when alive. He is sort of worried about Athena, though, as they both help her back to her feet, Penelope busy whispering compliments and updates and endearments in turn- she's not usually one to be quiet in face of a problem.

Hera tilts her head. "Ah, but you see. I need the legality, if I am to finally-" A helpless, excited smile pulls at her lips once, twice, before unfolding into a bright grin, peacock tails unfolding to their full wingspan. "-finally arrange for a marriage for my eldest daughter who has not once- oh finally, I can hardly believe this day has come-"

"I do not like the way you grabbed her, Sacker of Troy," Ares steps forward as Hera starts ranting half to herself, half to an equally loud assemblage of joyful entities about wedding arrangements, eyes narrowed.

Odysseus barks an incredulous, loud laugh, gesturing to Athena with a slightly crazed look in his eyes. "This lady has broken- and I do not exaggerate- every single bone in my body before I saw my sixteenth year. I have punched her a hundred times in the face when she taught me how to fight. We'll survive, thanks."

"That is fair," Ares steps back, hands raised.

"What duties will you provide as spouses, Ithakan Queen?" Hestia questions, stepping forward.

"Oh, the same we did when we were living," Penelope huffs a laugh. "Keep her busy, make her laugh, be of mild frustration to her, love her well, worship her-"

"I do not. Need to know," Hestia closes her eyes and raises a hand to cut her off, stepping back. Around them, the din catches speed and volume as no further objections arise, excitement spilling into the air.

"What is happening?" Athena says faintly, looking around as if she was just waking up.

"-oh, and we can get out the decor once more! Hebe, Aphrodite, loves, do you remember where we kept the fountains-"

"-finally, a reason to celebrate! Call them all out of hiding-"

"-can't believe this is finally happening, oh sister, what songs should we-

"Why am I getting married," Athena says with much more alarm and horror. She turns to Odysseus and shakes him by the shoulder, eyes wild. "What did you do?"

"Nothing!"

"How is this nothing? Do you have any idea the headache-"

"Athena, sweetheart, will you consider changing into that beautiful piece you made for the ceremony?"

Creakily, she turns her head to Hera, disbelief pasted across her face. "Mother," She says slowly. "They are both dead."

"Oh, I'll make a deal with Hades or something, you hush!" Aphrodite leans forward and snaps, before her irritation melts back into a manic joy. "Oh, what paint shall we do?"

Paint, Athena mouths, looking afraid for possibly the first time since her conception.

Penelope laughs and tugs on Athena's hand to make her turn, tucking dishevelled curls behind her ear. She wonders if the goddess knows how beautiful she is when she's flustered. "Take us away," She whispers. On Athena's other side, Odysseus leans against their patron with a besotted, helpless smile as he stares up at her, her helmet and spear in hand. She'd missed Athena like a limb, missed her deep laugh at night when they'd discussed the day's court, the dry jokes, the hands over hers as she weaved- but Odysseus wasn't himself without her, happy though they were in Hades' lands together, all of them.

"I'm-" Athena wavers, then looks around once more at all the excited screaming, something unreadable flashing in her eyes. Almost against her will, her eyes fall to Zeus, who is sitting silently and staring back at her. Poseidon looks like he still wants to start a fight, but clearly by his wary looks below can tell he will be heavily outnumbered by the overexcited crowd to not try, but Zeus just stares back at her, face blank of any emotion.

"We ask you formally this time," King Odysseus says, walking in front of her to take her attention away, holding onto her hand. His voice has strength in it, drawing the eyes of the murmuring crowd, but he's deaf to it as he stares up at her.

"Will you be our wife?" Queen Penelope asks, joining him, watching their beautiful patron shudder for breath she does not need as her eyes flick to one of them and then the other.

"Yes," She whispers and cheers erupt all across Mount Olympus.

"Finally!" Odysseus complains, and then pulls her down once more to kiss her, all three of them fading at the edges as one of the generous gods present there- who seems to realize that they're not very inclined to stop anytime soon- thankfully teleports them away into a nice room with a large bed.

"Finally," He whispers as he breaks apart to lay her down, cupping her face, voice heavy with the longing of a full lifetime and more. Penelope circles to the head of the bed and starts undoing Athena's braid, staring at them both lovingly.

Later the ones closest will murmur, as the silhouettes faded away, that tears had slipped from proud Pallas Athena's eyes as she placed one hand against Odysseus' cheek, trembling.

"I missed you," She will whisper back, and all three of them fade away to their own story, yet to be made.

[ratatatastic]

do you write fic on ao3?

unfortunately for everyone involved i do!

[lunar-fey]

if you ever stream the sims can I watch 🥺 I love watching people play games

ofc!!! actually if youll excuse me using this as a chance to self promo if youre interested my sister (skerples/carrie) and i DO stream 3x a week already and you can find out more @collateralcorp :3

[itsalwaysdark]

i think itis funny in the past when i would list my interests as if i post abt them i donot post abt the shit im into rly Mainly bc im not rly Into Into anything anymore i occasionally watch or read or play something but i dont do fandom stuff rly much.... just sometimes i get brainworms

[nanaslutt]

welcome to my smau list!! ૮꒰ྀི∩´ ᵕ `∩꒱ྀིა

౨ৎ feel free to send an ask to my inbox if u have an idea for a smau (no suggestive prompts for under 18 characters) ౨ৎ

jjk smaus

✿ asking jjk men if you can hold their 🍆 while they pee

✿ showing the jjk men ur new piercings

✿ asking the jjk men if you can peg them

✿ changing “babe” to autocorrect to “whore” in their phone

✿ “shes busy rn”

✿ leaving without telling the jjk guys

✿ “he’s busy rn”

✿ getting ur nails the color of their tip

✿ forbidden relationships

✿ drawing a heart with their tip

✿ baby fever

✿ drunk texting the jjk men

✿ jjk men having a wet dream about you

✿ asking them for a hand pic

✿ jjk mean reacting to their contact name

✿ asking jjk characters what their fav sex act is

✿ telling the jjk guys you spent $200 on tire air

✿ “wrong person” nudes prank

✿ jjk characters reactions to you getting harassed/ hit in

✿ jjk characters finding out you got injured

✿ ass or tits

✿ giving them suprise flowers

✿ asking the jjk characters to take your virginity

✿ telling the jjk characters you want to get them pregnant

✿ getting flowers from someone else and thinking it was from them

✿ getting jealous of you hanging out with someone else

✿ stealing your panties

✿ cuddles after sex

✿ innapropreate package mixup

✿ wax my 😽

✿ sending them porn you wanna recreate

✿ when they drunk text you

✿ them asking you on a date for the first time

✿ sending nudes in the middle of an argument

✿ getting a necklace with their initial

✿ being a woman/man for a day question

✿ controlling your bluetooth vibe

✿ when you leave a kiss mark on them

✿ asking you to stay the night for the first time

✿ the call ending after you fall

✿ “they just left you can come over now”

✿“if i gave you a pass to call me a bitch how would you use it”

✿ “i didn’t finish last night“ prank

✿“i got arrested”

✿ when they find ur smut

✿ editing them to look bad in a photo

✿ accidentally sending them nudes (pre relationship)

✿ the jjk characters sending you gym pics

✿ getting scared watching a scary movie

✿ finding out they punched ur stuffed animals

✿ when they see you in someone else’s jacket

✿ asking them their fav pet name is in bed

✿ when you start your period unprepared

✿ when you see them with another girls belongings

✿ asking them if they like having sex with you

✿ asking them for happy trail pics

✿ when they ask for nudes and you send an unsuggestive pic

✿ asking them if they have a crush on you

✿ when they find ur toy

✿ anxious before ur wedding

✿ taking pics of you when you fall asleep

✿ asking them for a whimper audio

✿ when they cheat on you

✿ having a dream they cheated on you

✿ when they get hit on/harassed

✿ the morning after ur first time having sex

✿ accidentally saying i love you for the first time before ending the call

✿ asking them if they only like you for sex

✿ offering them head to relax them

✿ asking them to kill a spider for you

✿ their reactions to a sexy picture you posted

✿ pregnancy scary

✿ ”sex has been boring” prank

✿ their card declined prank

✿ getting lost in public

✿ asking them if you can stack donuts on it

✿ asking them to pick out a new toy for you

✿ waking up in their body

✿ them reacting to you crying over a dumb video

✿ catching them masturbating

✿ getting a noise complaint

✿ when they catch you masturbating

✿ when they catch you singing

✿ finding a hair that isn’t urs

✿ telling them their nut tastes bad

✿ trying anal

✿ comforting you when you’re burnt out

✿ when they take an aphrodisiac

✿ asking them to find ur 😽 in a lineup

✿ asking them how much money they have

✿ asking about a threesome

✿ what’s their sexual fantasy?

✿ asking them if they’ll put it in soft

✿ slapping their ass and running away

✿ asking them for their friends number

✿ selling their stuff online prank

✿ asking if they’d get a genital piercing

✿ making them sleep on the couch

✿ asking what their body count is

✿ asking them to give you a hickey

[cassandraclare]

Letter from Jace to Clary (for Kickstarter)

[written for Theresa]

Dear Clary,

You said you wanted me to write you a letter for your birthday, so here I am, writing that letter. At first I thought that maybe you weren’t serious. After all, we live in the same house. We are not separated by time, dimensions, or the turbulent ocean, which are the usual reasons people write letters.

 I thought maybe you were being self-effacing, that you just didn’t want me to go to any trouble, especially when we have wedding planning coming up (hopefully soon—since we’re waiting on a peace process, it could be a while). 

So I came up with the idea of taking you on a flying motorcycle to see the Northern Lights, but when I suggested it you said no, you only wanted a letter. 

I suggested we portal to the south of France and pick lavender and have a picnic, but you said no, you wanted a letter. 

I suggested we use our Shadowhunter skills to break into the Met so you could stand in front of every painting for as long as you want, but you said no, you’d rather have a letter. 

I suggested we portal to the Tokyo International Anime Fair, because I remembered you saying you’d always wanted to go, but you said no, you’d rather have a letter. 

I suggested I could find you the best, most beautiful sword that you’d ever seen, and had your initials carved into it, or a subtle message like “I <3 Jace” but you said no, you’d rather have a letter.

And then I realized that while we have had an amazing time together all these years, and  we’ve always gone around the world and seen incredible things, that things are different now. Now there is a shadow hanging over everything, the shadow of the situation in Alicante. And I realized that what you actually wanted is something you can keep with you that reminds you of hope.

So let me tell you, in this letter, why you should hope. 

Because no matter what we are facing, we are still us, Jace and Clary. We still have our friends and the people who love us. We have faced so much together, and we have always come out of the darkness into light. And in the end, I believe that love will always win out against hate, because I have faced some of the greatest evil that has ever been known, and the strength I have found in how much I love you has always carried me through. So keep this letter with you, even the in dark moments. Especially in the dark moments. I hope that it brings you comfort to know that I love you more than life itself. And if it doesn’t, remember: You could have had a flying motorcycle ride to see the Northern Lights, and you turned it down.

yours, 

Jace

[luviestarz]

jungkook fic recs! 💘 part 2

𖤐 Champagne Confetti ⋆ j.jk - @busanboykoo (“you won't regret me, champagne confetti” or maybe just jungkook wants you to tell him what you want him to do to you.)

𖤐 oh how you love longhair!jungkook . . . - @twilghtkoo

𖤐 Your boyfriend looks a little too good in his police uniform. - @badbtssmut

𖤐 e s p r e s s o - @joonberriess (boxer!jk)

𖤐 trippin' over, gettin' lost on you | jjk (m) - @euphorajeon (a visit to the coffee shop you work at rewards jeongguk not only with a cup of coffee and a plate of brownie, but also with something else simmering deep in his veins. a challenge is issued, and all hell breaks loose.)

𖤐 Don’t Blame Me | sugar daddy!jungkook one-shot au - @ctrlsht (You can have everything you want and need as long as you have Jeon Jungkook by your side. You were enjoying everything that Jungkook gives you and as long as you’re with him. You’re sure to yourself that you will never fail him but he was the one who failed you. Everything is fine until he gets too much.)

𖤐 WELCOME TO THE HEARTBREAK SHOW ── jungkook - @numinousher (you’re in love with your partner in class that everyone fears (and loves) due to his stoic facial expression and the way he rejects girls rather harshly. as you get to know him, will he be able to handle your heart that you so willingly gave him to care for or, will he break it due to his hatred for people who are in love with him?)

𖤐 It’s hard to stop but once it starts, it starts - @byuljoonie

𖤐 concrete king. (m) jjk - @bratkook (when a cute boy in a tacky hawaiian shirt lands a trick in your honor theres no way you could ever say no to him)

𖤐 baecation - @1kook (“Lose the top, or lose the right to present yourself in any low back gown for the next three months.” He truly knew the way to your heart.)

𖤐 test your morality (jungkook) - @trivia-yandere (jungkook's morality is tested when he's woken from his unconscious state to find you - his best friend - bound before him.)

𖤐 Needy | jjk oneshot - @jkslipppiercing (your boyfriend often helps you set up for your weekly girls' night...what happens when he gets needy for you only 15 minutes before your girl friends arrive?)

𖤐 ESCAPISM | JJK - @wnderkoo (୨୧ lipstick smudged like modern art..)

𖤐 Vérités Cachées (JJK) - @bangtanficsforyou (You try to make an escape from a beast, that you happen to have encountered while on a vacation with your boyfriend.)

𖤐 lonely hearts club (m) - @dovechim (jeon jeongguk has annoying little brother energy™. you know this deep in your bones. wedding after wedding, you keep running into him at the goddamn singles’ table, and he just won’t leave you alone. until you start to wonder... is he your ticket out of the lonely hearts club?)

𖤐 By Its Cover (M) - @gimmesumsuga (The one where Jungkook makes a horrifically bad first impression.)

𖤐 The Deepest Marks of Essence - @lleldey (When you found yourself circled by a tribe, you never thought it would lead you to tap into your deepest wants and desires. You are the oldest child, the example of how one should act at all costs, but if you ever manage to escape this maze and if your story ever becomes told, you’ll never be looked at the same. But it’s hard to regret it when your nights are spent with gentle caresses and starry midnight skies. You got everything you secretly longed for, but at what cost?)

𖤐 every hour, every minute. (m) - @aajjks (jungkook can be an animal when it comes to fucking you sensless.)

𖤐 ONCE AGAIN, MILAN ! - (nsfw) - @frmisnow (what happens when you and jungkook find yourselves once again in milan, this time with no business attached — well a hol' lotta sex for sure!)

[ser-bia-sims]

FUNCTIONAL TEA SET

Tea set "5 o'clock" Your tea party has never been so stylish. Brew a fragrant cup of tea and imagine that the butler is about to serve you oatmeal.Put a couple of sugar cubes to the cup and add milk to your taste. Repeat.

6 swatches;

Custom tea packaging with brewing animation;

You need a game pack "My Wedding Stories".

DOWNLOAD: Patreon (Public 24/Sep/24)

I would like to express my deepest gratitude to: @blackpanda-ts4 - for dozens of hours spent with me in Discord, for help in finding information, translations and moral support; Sims4Studio forum for a huge amount of useful information; @peacemaker-ic and @syboubou, for taking the time to look at my files and helping me figure out the problem, I was already on the verge of despair, honestly; @irtlers for testing the service twice and finding a serious problem; And also to everyone who supported me during the creation ❤

[fushitoru]

chapter 8: the lake a bridgerton au

pairing ⸺ duke!satoru gojo x fem!reader

summary ⸺ dearest gentle reader, a new season is upon us as the ton gets ready for a season filled with drama, heartbreak, and passion. after being crowned diamond of the season, duke gojo⸺only looking to marry just to secure his inheritance⸺has his sights set on you, the easiest (and most obvious) option. later, when you catch his saying unsavory things about you on a terrace when he least suspected it, you swear to never marry gojo. as london's fashionable set goes through yet another wedding season, will there be hope for scandalous gossip, hate, and thinly veiled insults, or will we witness blooming love and passion?

warnings ⸺ nsfw, enemies to lovers, bridgerton au, angst, fluff, SUGGESTIVE, making out, touching bare skin pre-marriage (the scandal), eventual smut, jealousy, misogyny, description of injury, concussion, blood, regency era au, gojo being infuriating, reader also being infuriating, both of them are clueless honestly

chapter summary ⸺ both you and gojo discover contradictory feelings lodged deep in your heart, and a confrontation (with an unexpected ally) leads to a rather....wet conclusion. (4.6k)

a/n additional warning that this chapter is not beta read. this may seem like a short chapter but it has TEAAAA (if you didnt already guess from the summary). i pushed myself to finish this for the peeps who finished finals this week so it may be a bit messy. anywho see u down below <3

prev. the rebound | next. soon!

general masterlist | series masterlist

Dearest gentle reader,

This Author finds herself most intrigued by the unfolding events of the Inos' recent ball. It appears that Her Majesty has not yet abandoned her faith in the diamond she so carefully selected. Will her confidence prove to be misplaced? Only time shall reveal the truth. Yet one cannot deny that fortune seems to shine—dare this Author say, sparkle—upon Miss Itadori of late.

Last evening, she graced the ballroom with a strikingly altered appearance, one that left tongues wagging and gazes lingering. Most notable, however, was the company she kept. Duke Nanami himself was seen at her side, engaged in conversation that appeared both earnest and uncommonly animated. A rare sight indeed, for His Grace has shown little interest in the charms of other young ladies this season. Could this be the beginning of something extraordinary? This Author will watch closely.

And who could forget the Gojo house party, where the drama rivaled even the most lurid novels of the circulating library? Whispers abound of a certain Lord Naoya Zen’in, who, it seems, departed the event looking rather... bruised, both in pride and in visage. What transpired to cause such a spectacle? Alas, my sources have yet to provide all the particulars, but one can only assume that tempers flared—and perhaps fists followed.

⸻ LADY WHISTLEDOWN’S SOCIETY PAPERS

Satoru wipes his knuckles on a spare handkerchief, marring it with streaks of crimson. After the blood coating his hand is cleaned off, it reveals light bruises. 

He always abhorred such physical entanglements. Let other men soil their reputations in drunken brawls or duels over imagined slights; Satoru prided himself on wit and charm, a tongue sharp enough to parry any insult.

However, for the first time, it seemed that the blasé duke-to-be Lord Satoru Gojo, ever so apathetic to others and their struggles, was not so blasé anymore. What affected him was contradictory; after all, he had made a big decision to avoid being affected by the woman herself. So why was he so…inconsistent? Perhaps it is this unpredictability, capriciousness the reason he has to distance himself from any others who may be in harm’s way—the way forged by Satoru himself. There is no space for inconstancy, irresponsibility, whimsicality, or contradiction in his life, especially not with his duties and the weight held over his shoulders. 

But he allows himself this, one last time. Your expression lingered in his mind—the way your lips parted in shock, the stiff set of your shoulders as you brushed past Naoya’s lecherous words without deigning to respond. He had seen the moment your composure faltered, a crack in the armor you wore so effortlessly. The crack only he was supposed to cause.

It was intolerable.

As soon as pale pink ribbons trail out of the room, he moves toward Naoya, completely ignoring the lady who was talking to him and her trailing protests. When he’s right in front of the other man, he gives him a curt nod. “Naoya.”

The other man’s eyes—which were before no doubt prowling on other unsuspecting ladies—flit to him in surprise. “Lord Gojo, what a pleasant surprise. I daresay—”

“Meet me in the courtyard,” Satoru interrupted, his tone leaving no room for argument.

Naoya’s brows shot up, but he recovered quickly, a sly grin curling his lips. “A private word? How intriguing. Lead the way, my lord.”

Satoru didn’t wait to see if he followed. His stride was steady, his purpose unwavering.

The cool air of the courtyard carried the faint strains of music from the ballroom, the chatter of guests dimmed by the stone walls. Satoru turned to face Naoya, his stance deceptively relaxed, one hand resting on the pommel of his cane.

“Now, my lord,” Naoya drawled, his smirk widening. “To what do I owe this rather dramatic summons?”

The reply came not in words but in the swift arc of Satoru’s fist, connecting solidly with Naoya’s jaw. The sharp crack of the blow shattered the stillness, and Naoya stumbled, clutching his face as shock registered in his eyes.

“What in blazes—”

“Hold your tongue,” Satoru bit out, seizing Naoya by the lapels of his coat and slamming him back against the cold, unyielding wall. His tone was calm, his voice low, but it carried a menace that silenced all protests. “You will not speak of her in that way again. Do you understand me?”

Naoya grimaced, his defiant eyes narrowing despite the pain. “Ah,” he sneered, a breathless rasp laced with derision, “this is about Miss Itadori, isn’t it? Playing the chivalrous hero, are we, Lord Gojo? Or is it your own wounded ego driving this display?”

The next punch silenced him mid-taunt, burying deep in his abdomen. Naoya doubled over with a strangled gasp, his knees threatening to buckle, but Satoru held him upright, his grip vice-like.

“Speak her name again,” Satoru hissed, leaning close, his voice cold enough to chill even the night air, “and I swear you’ll find yourself in far worse condition.”

The tension between them crackled like a storm. For a fleeting moment, Naoya’s lips twitched into the ghost of a sneer, but his words died unspoken, arrogance muted by the sheer force of Satoru’s fury. Satisfied, Satoru released him with a sharp shove, watching dispassionately as Naoya crumpled against the wall, gasping for breath.

“You are mad,” Naoya spat, wiping at the blood trickling from the corner of his mouth. “You’ll ruin yourself over this.”

“Perhaps,” Satoru replied evenly, smoothing the cuffs of his sleeves as though nothing had happened. “But I’ve never much cared for your opinion, Naoya.”

He turned on his heel, his steps measured, his expression impassive.

The sting in his knuckles was a small price to pay. Unfortunately it seemed that for you, it was a price he would pay again and again.

He had told himself the decision was rational. Logical. Your match had to cease because it had begun to unravel him. You were a distraction, one he could not afford. His life was designed for control, every action measured, every move calculated. A match with you, he had realized, would be unlike any other. It would mean more. It would demand more.

And yet, how could he feel this jealousy? This fierce protectiveness? It was contradictory, maddening even. His resolve to avoid entanglements of the heart warred against the memory of your laughter echoing through his mind. It was absurd, but he could not dismiss the sharp ache in his chest whenever you looked at another man, especially one so undeserving as Naoya Zen’in.

He had known from the start that you were different. No coy smiles or simpering obedience. No easy conquest to stroke his ego. Your instant rejection of him during your first meeting had been a blow to his pride and a revelation he had been too stubborn to acknowledge then.

Satoru was not a man who chased after women. He had no need to. And yet…

But even as he walked away, Satoru couldn’t help but feel the cracks in his own carefully constructed armor widening. What, indeed, was he doing?

You startle in your sleep, sitting up abruptly on your bed in the dark.

The season has taken a turn for the good, so far. With Whistledown singing your praises and the Queen not yet deciding to behead you, you were on the path of securing great prospects, whether it be with Duke Nanami or someone else.

“But you’re missing something, aren’t you?”

The voice is a low murmur, brushing the shell of your ear like the ghost of a touch. Your heart leaps to your throat as you twist toward the sound, your eyes darting across the dimly illuminated room. The corners of the chamber remain steeped in shadow, the moonlight doing little to ease your apprehension.

“Who’s there?” you whisper, clutching the sheets tighter, your knuckles whitening around the fabric.

The silence stretches, thick and oppressive, before a figure emerges from the shadow near the mantle. He moves with a predator’s grace, his steps silent against the floorboards. Even before he fully steps into the moonlight, you know who it is.

Gojo.

“You look startled, my lady,” he says, his voice carrying an infuriatingly casual lilt, though his gaze fixes on you with unnerving precision.

“This is a dream,” you murmur, your voice trembling despite your effort to remain calm. “You are not real.”

“And yet,” he replies. “here I am. Curious, isn’t it?”

You swallow hard, the lump in your throat refusing to budge. He’s closer now, standing at the foot of your bed, his pale hair catching the silvery light like a halo—an angel or a devil, you can’t decide. “What do you want, Lord Gojo?” you demand, your voice sharper than you feel.

His eyes sweep over you, lingering for a moment too long before meeting your gaze again. “To commend you, of course,” he says. “You’ve been doing well—dancing with dukes, charming the Queen. The season’s darling.”

His words cut, though you can’t say why. “Why does that matter to you?” you snap, sitting straighter, as though defiance could shield you from the heat simmering in his gaze.

“It doesn’t,” he replies smoothly, though the corner of his mouth quirks into a smirk that betrays him.

“Then why are you here?”

His answer doesn’t come in words. Instead, he steps closer, his boots brushing the edge of your rug. Slowly, deliberately, he reaches out, his gloved hand catching a strand of hair that’s fallen loose. He rolls it between his fingers, as though testing its silkiness, before letting it slip away. “Because I can’t seem to stay away,” he murmurs. His voice is low, meant only for you, and it sends a shiver through your body.

You scoff, though the sound catches in your throat. “You’re insufferable.”

His chuckle is soft, a deep rumble that seems to linger in the air. “And yet, you don’t look away.”

Your fists clench around the sheets, anger flaring in your chest—anger at him, at yourself, at the fact that he’s right. Before you can stop yourself, you throw the covers aside and rise to your feet. 

He doesn’t step back. Instead, he stands still, a study in casual defiance, though his gaze flickers with something you can’t name as you move closer. His eyes lazily drag up and down your frame, which you notice is only covered in a flimsy, almost translucent nightgown.

“If this is a dream,” you say, your voice trembling with fury and something unspoken, “then it doesn’t matter what I do, does it?”

His smirk falters, replaced by a glimmer of uncertainty that only fans the reckless fire inside you. “Perhaps not,” he murmurs, though the tension in his voice betrays him.

Your hands shake as you reach out, your fingers curling into the lapels of his coat. His eyes follow the movement, then stare back at you, into your eyes. For a brief moment, his breath hitches, and his hands twitch at his sides, as though warring with the instinct to touch you. But the flicker of surprise in his eyes tells you he didn’t expect this.

With a sharp tug, you pull him closer, your lips meeting his in a collision of unspoken longing, yearning, and pining. The kiss is unsteady at first, as if both of you are testing the waters, but it quickly deepens, becoming a clash of fire and desperation. His hands find your waist, his grip firm but not demanding, as if he’s holding on to something precious.

You press closer, letting the reckless freedom the dream gave you sweep you away. His lips part against yours, and the kiss turns slower, more deliberate, like he’s savoring the moment, savoring you, devouring you. But then, his hands shift, moving from your waist with a slow, tantalizing seductiveness. They skim over your hips, his touch deliberate, before trailing down to the curve of your thighs. His fingers brush over the soft fabric of your nightgown, the heat of his touch searing through the barrier like it isn’t there.

Your breath hitches as he lingers, his thumb tracing a path along the sensitive skin just above your knee. The sensation is electric, and yet it feels like forbidden ground—an intimacy you’ve never dared to imagine, even in your most audacious thoughts.

It’s then that the dream begins to unravel.

His form flickers, as though caught in the haze of a mirage, the sharp lines of his figure softening. The room darkens, the corners of your vision blurring as though the world is folding in on itself.

“No,” you whisper, the word barely audible over the sound of your own pounding heart.

He looks at you one last time, his eyes filled with an intensity that feels as real as your racing pulse. And then he’s gone, the dream dissolving into nothingness, leaving you gasping and clutching the sheets. When you wake, the echo of his touch lingers, the heat of his hands on your thighs an ache you can’t explain. You press trembling fingers to your lips, your breath catching as though the kiss was still happening.

But no matter how much you try, you can’t shake the memory of his hands, of the way he’d touched you like he belonged there. Like he had always belonged there.

You choose to blame the irregular slumber you have gotten this past fortnight as the reason why you are being so discourteous. For Duke Nanami’s words drift your mind, never truly being registered, as you both had strolled, promenading hand in hand. 

It is not merely His Grace who suffers from your inattentiveness. Any suitor who dares to approach is met with the same distracted gaze, your thoughts elsewhere. Whether it is the lingering remnants of that unbidden dream—one you’ve tried and failed to forget—or the fleeting moments where you think you spot Lord Gojo across the green only to realize it is a figment of your imagination, your mind is a battlefield.

A few awkward conversations—where you are not truly present—pass and go, until you sit by the lakeside of Surrey Park, deciding to take a break from the conversations that awaited you if you were to stroll towards your family’s pavilion.

But not now, for here, nature offers solace. The gentle ripple of water, the soft rustling of leaves, the occasional bird song—all soothe the cacophony in your head.

You settle onto a bench, your gown fanning around you, and allow yourself to breathe. But even as you close your eyes and tilt your head toward the sun, the peace does not come. Your thoughts betray you, circling back to him—his infuriating smirk, his piercing gaze, the way his voice seemed to linger in the air long after he was gone. The dream was completely unbidden, unexpected. You had only started to move on and start this season anew. It seemed as your consciousness was working against you in an effort to bring fictional desires to life. 

You knew clearly that Gojo was infuriating, and had colored your name. So why must your mind actively go against what was clearly a certitude?

Before you could ponder on your thoughts for much longer, you heard her.

“You do seem terribly at ease for someone of your…reputation.”

The voice startles you, cutting through your reverie like a blade. Your eyes snap open, and there stands Lady Mei Mei, her expression a mask of genteel venom. You sigh inwardly, and bring on your best smile, albeit artificial. “Lady Mei Mei,” you greet, striving for composure. “To what do I owe this very unexpected…interruption?”

“Interruption?” she echoes, feigning offense. “How quaint. I merely wished to congratulate you on your newfound popularity. Though, I must say, the…boldness of your wardrobe choices does make one wonder.” Her gaze drags over your form, disdain dripping from every word. “Are you seeking a husband, my dear, or something far less respectable?”

Your fingers curl into the fabric of your skirt, but you maintain your poise. “Boldness, Lady Mei Mei, is often mistaken for confidence by those unfamiliar with either.”

Her lips twitch, but the venom remains. “Confidence, or desperation? It is difficult to tell with one so eager to flaunt herself before the ton. Tell me, do you find it tiring? Whoring yourself out for attention?”

The word lands like a slap, sharp and stinging, and you feel the surge of heat rise to your cheeks. Slowly, deliberately, you rise to your feet, smoothing the folds of your gown as you stand. Your chin tilts upward, a shield of composure against the venom Mei Mei has hurled your way. You desperately fight the urge to slap her into nonsense, but there are eyes, no matter how hidden from public view you may think yourself to be.

“I find it far less tiring than wielding envy as one’s primary weapon,” you reply, your voice cool yet cutting, every syllable sharpened to a blade. “But then, I would not expect you to understand.”

Mei Mei’s lips twist into something that might have been a smile, had it not been dripping with malice. Her eyes narrow, the sunlight catching the cold glint of her stare. She shifts closer, the deliberate grace of her steps at odds with the tension crackling in the air. For a moment, you think she might lash out—a slap, a shove, something physical to match her words.

But before the storm can break, a voice, smooth and deceptively warm, cuts through the charged silence.

“Lady Mei Mei.”

Your breath hitches, and you whip your head around to see him. Lord Gojo strides toward you both, his movements as fluid and effortless as a ripple across the lake’s surface.

For a moment, your mind stutters, unable to reconcile the sight before you. He’s here. Not lingering at the edges of the crowd, not offering a polite nod of acknowledgment before disappearing into the fringes of Surrey Park. No, he’s walking toward you with purpose, the light catching in his silver hair, his focus unerringly fixed on the scene unfolding before him.

The man who had, for days, seemed to find every excuse to avoid you (and you him), whose gaze had flicked past you as though you were nothing more than a fixture of the lawn—he was now approaching with a startling intensity, his presence impossible to ignore.

His expression is inscrutable, but the faint furrow of his brow betrays something darker beneath the veneer of his charm. The tension in his jaw, the faint set of his shoulders—it all speaks of an intent that sends a shiver down your spine.

“Lord Gojo,” you whisper under your breath, your voice barely audible over the blood rushing in your ears. What is he doing here? And why, when he looks at you, does it feel as though the air has shifted?

Lady Mei Mei recovers first, her voice cutting through your disarray like a blade. “Lord Gojo,” she purrs, her saccharine tone a stark contrast to the venom she had wielded moments earlier. “What a surprise to see you here.”

But you can’t take your eyes off him. You’re too stunned, too disoriented by his sudden appearance and the sheer force of his presence. Why must he appear now? 

His gaze flicks briefly to Mei Mei, his lips curving into a polite smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes, before his attention returns to you. And when it does, it’s as though the world narrows to the space between you.

“Not half as surprising as overhearing this delightful conversation,” he says, his tone light, almost lazy, but there’s an edge to it—a sharpness that wasn’t there before. His eyes meet yours again, and this time, the intensity in them is impossible to ignore. Your breath holds itself in, your confusion and shock colliding with something you can’t quite name. There’s no teasing quip, no playful smirk to soften his words. Just the weight of his gaze, pressing down on you as though he’s searching for something you don’t understand. Then, he returns it to Mei Mei. “I was unaware you had taken to dispensing moral judgments, my lady. Though I suppose one must occupy their time somehow.”

The barb lands, and Mei Mei’s smile falters. Her spine stiffens, her fingers twitching at her side, but Gojo doesn’t stop. He steps closer, his boots crunching against the gravel, and the shift in his demeanor is subtle but unmistakable.

“I would suggest, for the sake of civility,” he says, his voice softening to something far more dangerous, “that you refrain from such remarks in the future.”

The crowd, drawn by the commotion, murmurs from a distance. You feel their gazes prickle against your skin, their curiosity thickening the already-tense air. Mei Mei’s cheeks flush a pale pink, and her hands clench at her sides, the effort to maintain her composure palpable.

“You dare—” she begins, but Gojo cuts her off, his voice a degree colder now.

“I dare a great many things, my lady. Do not test the limits of my patience.”

The words hang heavy in the air, silencing the murmurs of the crowd. Mei Mei’s breath quickens, and though her lips curl into a sneer, the fire in her eyes dims. After a moment, she dips her head again, but this time it’s no longer polite. It’s forced, a concession.

“Very well, my lord,” she says, her voice tight. “I can see when my presence is no longer welcome.”

Lady Mei Mei walked past you to exit the scene, clearly disgraced after Lord Gojo had surprisingly butted in to your defense. Her turn was sharp, and her skirts flared. Then, she did something you hadn’t expected. After all, you were nonplussed from Gojo’s appearance in of itself that you did not have much awareness of your physical environment. Foremost of all, you were furious. How dare he waltz into the scene, aiming at playing hero and gentleman after all he has done to you this season? The anger consumed you, leaving you ignorant to Lady Mei Mei's schemes.

The movement came quickly—a flick of her hand, subtle yet purposeful, as though she intended to brush away an inconvenience. Only, her target was not the hem of her gown or an errant lock of hair. It was you. That is, that was the intention of the action. However, fortuitously enough for you, Lord Gojo had noticed it.

With a sharp tug, his hand closed around your wrist, pulling you aside just as Lady Mei Mei's push landed—on him.

The splash was enormous.

For a moment, the world stood still, the lake swallowing the ripples as though it too were stunned by what had just transpired. Around you, gasps echoed, punctuated by the soft clink of champagne glasses dropped in surprise. All eyes turned toward the water, toward the spot where Gojo had disappeared.

Your pulse pounded erratically, caught between the shock of it all and the mortifying realization that everyone was watching. Watching and waiting.

And then, like something out of a scandalous painting that no young lady of good breeding ought to admit having seen, Gojo emerged.

The water clung to him as though reluctant to let go, his white shirt turned sheer and pasted to his torso, revealing every lean muscle and curve beneath. Droplets trailed from the tips of his silver hair, tracing maddening paths down the sharp edges of his jaw before disappearing beneath the soaked fabric. His black necktie clung damply to his throat, accentuating the hollows there, and when his eyes met yours—gleaming with mischief and something darker—your breath hitched.

It was obscene. 

The crowd seemed to agree, though their response was far less scandalized than you might have expected. The ladies weren’t laughing; no, their gazes were riveted, their fans fluttering in a feeble attempt to hide their obvious fascination. Their admiration was palpable, their whispers laden with awe.

Flustered, you took a few steps back to give him space and to not drench yourself (a/n lmaooo you’re drenched already bestie), but you mentally noted to yourself to make his pectorals bigger in your dreams (not that you would continue to have such salacious dreams, of course. It was the mind creating desires you never had, obviously.) It was apparent that you were still very distracted, for you did not notice the two pairs of footsteps rushing towards your direction, towards Gojo.

“What happened?” Duke Nanami looked at Gojo’s very…wet state, concerned and alarmed. “What did you get yourself into this time, Satoru?”

Gojo, who was still wiping water from his hair and grinning like a fool, gave him an exaggerated look of innocence. He ran a hand through his damp, platinum hair, the gesture almost too casual for someone in his drenched state. As he did so, the hem of his shirt inched upward, revealing a tantalizing sliver of bare skin, a sliver that led downward to a trail of white hair disappearing beneath his waistband—

“Kento,” Gojo laughed heartily, as if there were nothing amiss. “You worry too much! A little water never hurt anyone.”

Lord Geto, on the other hand, had been trailing behind Nanami. At the sight of Gojo, he started laughing, snickering mischievously at the sight.  He had a knowing look on his face, as if he were fully aware of the scene he was witnessing—Gojo’s accidental plunge into the lake being just another moment of unintentional chaos.

“Oh, Satoru, you're impossible.” Geto stepped closer, shaking his head in mock disbelief, but his smile was far too amused to be truly accusatory or reproachful. "Did you get knocked into the lake by your own... charm?" His voice dripped with sarcasm as he glanced at the crowd of ladies now eyeing Gojo as though he were some mythical creature freshly emerged from the depths.

Nanami sighed, his brow furrowing as he crossed his arms in that ever-earnest manner that seemed to constantly play contrast to Gojo’s reckless energy. “This is exactly why you need a keeper at all times, Satoru.”

Gojo, still basking in the odd mix of amusement and the lingering attention of the nearby ladies, merely shrugged. “I’m fine, Kento. Just a little... refreshment is all.”

“By the looks of it,” Geto continued with a raised brow, “I’m more concerned about you than you are of yourself.” He gestured with a lazy wave, motioning toward the way the water had soaked through Gojo’s shirt, revealing a lot more than was likely intended. “And, I mean, look at that—those ladies aren’t gazing at you for your intellect.” (a/n LMAO ate him up)

Before Gojo could lob a retort, Nanami interjected with his trademark no-nonsense tone. “Enough of this,” he said, pinching the bridge of his nose. “You’re soaked to the bone. Let’s get you inside before you catch a chill—or create an even bigger scene.”

Gojo lingered for a moment, casting a leisurely glance around the gathering. The ladies, previously locked in their own conversations, now shamelessly ogled him, their fans fluttering uselessly against the rising heat in their cheeks. Their gazes trailed after him as he started to walk away, and you swore you caught more than one wistful sigh among the crowd.

And yet, even as he moved farther from the lake and closer to the house, his steps deliberate and unhurried, he suddenly stopped. Slowly, his head turned, and his piercing blue gaze found yours with unnerving accuracy, as if he’d felt your bewildered stare all along.

His smile appeared—lazy, confident, and maddeningly seductive. The corner of his mouth tilted up just enough to make your stomach flip, and his eyes... Oh, his eyes. They gleamed like a predator’s, sharp and teasing, and yet impossibly inviting.

The world seemed to tilt, the air around you thickening. Your chest tightened with the realization: that smile wasn’t for the crowd, nor for the fawning ladies he left in his wake.

It was for you.

Your cheeks burned, your thoughts a chaotic mess as he turned back and sauntered away, water still dripping from his hair and shirt. The ladies continued to gawk openly, but you remained rooted to the spot, your heart pounding erratically.

Oh, that bastard.

prev. the rebound | next. soon!

general masterlist | series masterlist

a/n so....erm this was definitely a CHAPTER.....BUT AH POOKIES ITS HERE i got so excited bc i got the idea to write his lake fall so i finished this chapter. it's a bit messy, like i said, but i hope you liked it <333

I WANT TO SUCK GOJOS DICK BADLYYY i think this chapter was posted so fast after the last bc im on my period and im horny so hence the lake scene was born like i rawdogged this shit in five hours

ANYWYAS THERES PUSH AND PULL YEARNING PINING...so much contradiction hmmmmmm

miss itadori malfunctioning when gojo got out of the water (like a complete SLUT)

anyways i hope some of you WHORESS that simped for bridgerton!geto will be coming anew to simp for our main MAN. this debauchery i approve of. i fear all anons, especially zaynesbathrobe anon and anon in my walls, will be having a field day with this one

thank you for readinggg! please comment and reblog to let me know ur thots :3 (esp reblog, a lot of people have been binging bridgerton!gojo recently and spam liking. tumblr daddy might lock me up and shadowban me/mark my account, so reblogs would be appreciated <3)

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@ncitygreen @backstagepaige @serinatly100986 @nappingmoon @coochellati

@extremelyexh4usted @yoshisaurmuchakoopas @nixiepixee @generalstephkenobi @vernasce-blogs

@byhuenii @geniejunn @a-girl-with-thoughts @dazedin2d @chuuqxs

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@undercooked-chaos-noodle @jaegersity @camzzn @bluelai @1sweetheart1

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@soobssedwithyourex @manyno @samkysnks @stefnarda @bbqsauceonmytitties2

[zweetpea]

Yandere batfam one shot/imagine thing

I'll probably make a part 2

You met Bruce while you were working as a waitress for a gala. It was a second job to pay rent. Maybe he brought Selina or some other girl or maybe he came alone.

Either way you two end up in a room together and end up sleeping together. Just as you’re pulling on your clothes he asks to see you again. He even offers you a check (let’s say it’s for 500k). You take the money promising to see him again but you don’t for about a year.

After a year of him searching every corner of Gotham he finally finds you. And surprise surprise you have a three month old baby girl.

He goes up to you and begs you to let him be in the baby’s life. After a few weeks of bribes (and him secretly stalking you) you finally make a deal with him. If he works from home he can take care of the baby during the day.

So you brought your baby to the Wayne Manor. You expected maybe a servant or maybe Bruce to answer the door. You were not expecting a young man to open the door. He had short shaggy black hair with an undercut and a K-pop hair style. He stared at you with his piercing blue eyes-

“Tim drake! That’s who you are! I used to love watching your let’s plays! I love your sense of humor!” Tim was surprised. Being the middle child (especially the middle boy) he often feels left behind by his siblings, so having someone notice his accomplishments for once felt nice.

“Drake. What are you looking-” a short boy came up behind the gamer. He had a darker complexion and slicked back black hair with piercing green eyes. You smiled at him and he straight up slammed the door in your and your baby’s face. Your eyes grew wide and your face fell into a scowl.

You heard shuffling from behind the door and when if opened you saw Tim holding the kid by the scruff of his collar as one would do with a misbehaving animal. “Sorry about that Miss.” Tim smiled at you. “Is there anything I can do for you?”

“I’m going to be late for work. Here give her to Bruce. Her name is Echo.” You give the baby to Tim. “Oh there you go. Support her head now.” You threw the bag in the small rude kids face. “Everything she needs is in there. I’ve left instructions inside for how to take care of her. If she doesn’t eat that much try tickling her tummy. I’ve labeled the extra bottles of her food so if she’s really hungry give her some and if it’s not enough call me I’ll get here as soon as I can. I don’t want her drinking any of that store bought crap. Understand?”

“Yes ma’am.” Tim smiled.

“Good.” You ruffled his hair. Then you turned to the younger boy. “Be good to my baby ya hear? Or else I’ll milk papa Bruce for every penny I can.” You ruffled his hair too. You then kissed your baby and went back to your car.

Tim shut the door and immediately Echo started crying. Bruce and Alfred came running at the noise.

“No… I missed her.” Bruce said. He looked at his three youngest kids. “Hey sweetheart.” Bruce tried to grab Echo. But Tim held her close. Everyone looked at him surprised.

“Father why did that rude lady drop off a baby.” Damian scowled.

“She’s not rude. She’s your future Step Mother.” Bruce smiled at the thought of your and his wedding. “Now Tim, give my baby here. She’s crying.”

“No.”

“No? What do you mean no?” Bruce seemed flabbergasted.

“She trusted me to hold her child. This is my baby sister.”

“Drake! Give father the baby. She’s being loud.” Damian covered his ears. Echo looked over at him and made a grabby hand gesture at him.

“It looks like she wants Master Damian’s attention.” Alfred pointed out.

“but-” Tim was cut off as Damian took the baby.

Echo’s cries grew quiet as her youngest older sibling held her. While Tim’s obsession with You and Echo became apparent almost immediately, giving him the praise his own family and the Media refused to, Damian’s was slow. It started with someone (echo) actually liking him. After all he went from being showered in attention under Talia’s thumb to being practically ignored at Wayne Manor.

Dick was by far the kindest to Damian, being a mentor to the young boy. But he could still bite back at Damian’s snark. Barbara and Stephanie took none of his crap, to the point where they barely spoke to him. Cass and Duke held no qualms about fighting with a kid. Jason was like a cool big brother and while he wasn’t at the manor often he always made most of his time there focused on the kid. Tim and Damian had a very strained relationship. And while Bruce loves Damian there’s always a bit of strain, and guilt on Bruce’s part. If he’d stayed with Talia maybe Damian wouldn’t have to grow up in a cesspool of Violence and mental agony.

“Back to your old ways of not wearing protection father?” Damian smirked.

“Damian… give me my Daughter.” Bruce said gently but firmly.

“Its nice to know you fought for her more than you fought for me. Though to be fair to you Ummi did shove us together.” He snarked as he held the baby who’d fallen asleep. Bruce went to grab her but Damian stepped back. “Ah ta ta. You wouldn’t want to disturb her right?” Damian smirked.

Over the next few hours Damian was mainly the one taking care of Echo if only to stop her from crying.

And at the end of the day when you finally got off work to pick up your sweet baby you were surprised to see Bruce, Damian, and Tim all playing with her in the living room. (What was more surprising was that her attention was mainly focused on the brat from this morning Damian.) She cooed as she saw you and you rushed to pick her up and gather her things into her bag.

Damian glared at you as you took Echo from his borderline iron clad grip. Who were you to take his sister, his blood sister mind you, away form him? (Her mother but we're not going to get into that right now.)

"Sweetness how about you just slow down. I'll have Alfred prepare you a drink. Which kind of tea do you like more Earl Gray or Jasmine." Bruce smiled and twiddled a piece of your hair in his hand.

You smacked his hand away. "No thank you. My baby and I need to get home." You said and quickly hurried out of there.

"Father you can't let her leave!" Damian said.

"Yeah! Don't you want that nice lady to be your wife?" Tim agreed.

"I was talking about Echo." Damian deadpanned.

Bruce ruffled both their heads. "Patience boys. Have a little faith in your old man." He smiled as you walked away. Before the month was out he'd have you and echo safely tucked away in his arms in the deepest recesses of Wayne Manor.

[running-with-kn1ves]

Satin Pillows To Cry On

CW: coercion with money, age gap(7 yrs), transactional marriage, obsessive/yandere behavior

gn! reader

﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀���﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀

You’ve got nothing else, no one else to rely on. 

‘You’re something he bought to keep from growing old.” 

Your clothes are worth small countries. Your cars stacked in 3-level garages. Diamonds, emeralds, pearls hanging from your wrists and ears, satchels made of endangered animal skins, different shoes for each day of the year. 

Your boyfriend of three years spat at your feet when you told him what you were doing. 

“His money can’t love you, not like I can.”

The wedding was only two months away when you broke up with him, told him you couldn’t live in his broke-down apartment anymore, that you couldn’t live with debt trailing wherever you went. You went so far as to make him hate you, to tell him that you never wanted to see him again, that you never loved him, that he better not bother showing up to the wedding. You didn’t want him there, you never wanted to see him again. 

“You’re lying to me; he’s making you say these things, he’s using you against me! You’ve known him what-- two seconds, and you’re going to marry this man?! He’s nearly a decade older than you!” 

Seven years of an age gap or not, he was still a thousand times more independent, wealthy, and a safer choice than your boyfriend. You weren’t some fresh college student new to the world, you had graduated over two years ago, still finding no luck in getting a stable income-- forget about whether or not it was in the field of your degree. 

You left in a single day, fitting all of your scavanged belongings into one of your fiance’s awaiting cars. You left anything worth of value with your ex-boyfriend, knowing he’d find more use out of it than you would. You would even leave the rest of your things there if he could find use for them, but you knew they’d just be one more painful reminder of your betrayal. 

He did as you said, not showing up to your wedding, staying clear, never appearing in your line of sight since the day you left. It made it easier…. For both of you that way. 

And now you were happy-- well, maybe not happy, maybe not even content, but you were… safe. You had everything you needed: a working car, a stable job that you felt productive in, a clean and comforting house to come home to, a spouse. Sure, maybe you didn’t get your new job yourself, or your house or your car-- but did that really matter, in this economy? Who wouldn’t trade their life and their independence for this kind of wealth?

And your husband… he wasn’t all bad. He might have only wanted you for the sake of having you at first, like a new jewel or the latest technological invention. But he was doting and caring in his own way. Maybe just a tiny bit too invested in you, in your schedule and who you talked to. A little too hateful towards your ex-boyfriend, the one who had you before he could. But everyone had character flaws, and on good days you could distract him from his grumpy mood and stress and obsessive behaviors by being the loving and oh so perfect spouse you had trained yourself to be ever since he asked to marry you. 

“Colder than all that gold…” You repeated in your mind, the words your family whispered to each other at your wedding reception only a few feet away from you. 

That was over six months now, though… the honeymoon phase never existed, you rarely saw your husband except for his midnight appearances back from the office, and whenever he would whisk you away for a weekend vacation to savor the time he had with you. For someone more sophisticated, much wealthier, and dare you say handsomer than the average man-- you were surprised to find he didn’t have a line of divorces behind him. 

No; he said, he had been “waiting for you.” whether  you or he knew it, he understood right from the moment of meeting you that you were the one he’d have for the rest of his life, even if it killed him. That severity… scared you. But in a sick sense, it made you feel relieved. Forever? This could be yours, forever? Your family would never have to struggle again, you would never have to worry where your next meal came from?

“I cleared your schedule until tuesday; we’re going to the isles. A mini vacation, you might call it. Get your things.”

He was cold, that was for sure. But, was he any worse than your ex-boyfriend, especially when he was offering you an expensive experience on top of that?

“All right..” You acquiesced. 

And now, you lied sunken into the bed feeling his loving, hot breath on your navel. Going so sweetly slow, so oddly and uncharacteristingly lingering with his touches as he gazes into your eyes. You didn’t like this; didn’t like that when he was cherishing you, making love to you, holding you so intimately, he was appearing… like a husband should. Where did he get the nerve to ignore you everyday, to have hardly any time for you, only to come back and beg for your love when it was convenient for him? 

But you keep your mouth shut, like you should, if you want to keep eating breakfast in bed, keep wearing silk robes while watching the view of the ocean outside your window.

“So beautiful…you’re like a work of art, the kind no amount of money can buy.” 

That was funny, hilarious even. Enough so to make you cry. 

A familiar face passes by the slightly ajar door to distract you, likely one of the housekeepers leaving for the night. But you swear the man’s figure reminds you of someone from your past, someone you loved and left for good. 

Your husband brings back your attention by placing a gentle kiss to your temple, blindly undoing the clasp of the necklace he bought you.

“I’m so lucky… so lucky to have been the one to catch you, forever. No one could’ve done it, not without what I have.”

He wanted you to kiss and caress back, but sometimes lying still was just enough. It was enough for him to witness you, basking in the glow of everything you wore from him, lying in the Egyptian cotton sheets he paid extra for, your body molded to the diet his personal chefs cooked. 

Even as he pushed a knee between your legs, traveling from your navel to your stomach with open-mouthed sucks and kisses in the rawest form of affection, you couldn’t help but turn your face deep into the pillow. So soft, the soft purple shielding your eyes from his tender gaze.

You might’ve given up love, given up everything familiar and those who you’ve cared for-- but at least you had satin pillows to cry on, and the finest jewelry to wipe your tears with. 

[jelreth]

everyone is being sketchy and odd today

[arienai]

While I'm talking about writing I do want to rec two INCREDIBLE writing apps that have helped me immensely as a writer with ADHD

Stimuwrite is a little program that you can customize with all sorts of really rewarding instant tactile feedback, for example sound effects every time you hit a key, emoji notifications and balloons when you hit your custom goal (which can be as low as you want for low energy days), and neat animated backgrounds.

4thewords turns writing into an RPG and you can kill monsters via word count in order to complete quests and progress through what I personally find to be an interesting and fun storyline. It comes with all the RPG trappings like loot, gear, even custom housing (win more stuff for your house by writing).

I cannot stress ENOUGH how amazing both of these have been in terms of my writing productivity as someone with pretty severe executive dysfunction issues. Usually I use Stimuwrite for the instant feedback and then copy and paste those over into 4thewords for the gamification.

Both are small indie projects, Stimuwrite is pay-what-you-can-afford and 4thewords is $4/month but they are very good about helping people who genuinely can't afford it.

and AS THE CHERRY ON TOP, Stimuwrite's programmer is a trans woman, and while I'm not sure about the 4thewords team in specific, the game is FILLED with really great rep, they are literally having a lesbian wedding global event going on right now as I type this. So like. I like giving money to them more than giving money to a lot of other projects lol.

Anyway no neither of these projects have told me to write about them or anything I just want to spread the love. Go check them out!!

Stimuwrite

4thwords

[soleilapproves]

Sitting on trueform!sukuna’s lap and feeding him grapes

notes: fem/afab!reader, not proofread, dubcon(ish), suggestive

main masterlist

The King of Curses wasn’t even sure if he liked eating human food as much as he enjoyed sinking his teeth into their juicy and tough flesh.

The screams of terror they’d let out as he’d consume and digest them alive satiated his appetite like no other.

But the human woman in his lap made grapes, a round sweet, acidic fruit taste like it was the most delicious thing ever. Like people died to have a taste of its juices.

He wasn’t sure if he liked the taste because she was feeding it to him or because she was sitting on his lap while doing so. Maybe it was both, but it definitely trumped his love for human flesh.

His hungry red eyes bore into her scared meek ones. Every time he’d look at her, she’d turn away. She was aroused. He could smell it on her. He’d much rather be between her thighs, devouring what was meant to be his the second he laid eyes on her, but for now he had to keep his calm. He had to ease her into his bed and this was the first step.

He had to build trust before using her body to his liking.

His eyes trailed down the silhouette of her body as she lifted her shivering arms towards his face, dangling the last grape by his mouth

“S-sire, this is the last grape. Would you like me to get off your lap after this?” She couldn’t even look him in the eye while asking the question. How adorable.

He grunted and lifted her face with a single finger. “How about this instead- you can either stay in my lap and feed me another branch or you can get off my lap after feeding me this last grape from your mouth,” he snarled into her ear. The puffs of breath he left on her skin almost felt like she had been burnt by acidic vapor.

Sukuna knew what her answer would be. From the minute he had initially asked her to sit on his lap she had been jumpy. Aching and waiting for a moment to run off to her quarters in his estate. A sanctuary he had built to nurture his future wife before their wedding night.

She was taking too long to answer so Sukuna did what he thought was appropriate- lick a stripe from her collarbone to her ear. His long nails dragged up her leg, tearing her dress from her calf to her thigh, exposing the creamy skin beneath. Sukuna looked away from her legs before he could hoist her up and give her the fucking she needed to be his.

She felt like she was being scented by a territorial animal.

“I’ll feed you the last grape from my mouth,” she whispered.

“Good choice. I was getting tired of just sitting and eating.” His gravel rich voice rumbled beneath her small body as she plucked the round fruit from the stem of branches.

His eyes followed as she placed the plump burgundy fruit between her teeth. It was too small- both of them knew that it would be impossible to eat the fruit without their lips touching. But she would take that risk for she valued her life.

She shut her eyes tight, gutless. It’s almost as if he knew that if she looked into his scarlet orbs then she would run away, so his second set of arms secured her in his lap. Holding her down tightly while his upper arms wrapped around her waist and shoulders.

He could hear her heart quicken. Lub-dub, lub-dub.

She didn’t mention his well endowed hardness growing right beneath her clothed core.

His iron rich breath fanned over her face as he admired lips that were starting to stain because of her teeth digging into the firm flesh of the grape.

He couldn’t tell if he was more excited to hear her terrified sounds or taste the sweetness on her lips. Either way, one could only find out by executing their desires.

He bit into the fruit and groaned as his warms lips made contact with hers. Her hand automatically held on to his tattooed bicep, digging her blunt fingers in them.

Had it been another woman, he would’ve beheaded her by now. But not this one. She was special.

He pulled the fruit out from between her teeth and swallowed it. It was sweeter than any human flesh he had tasted and it was all because of her.

He bit into her bottom lip, drawing a drop of blood and a gasp from her, giving him entry into her mouth. Her mewls of pleasure only egged him on to continue kissing her. He smirked into her mouth as he felt her rock her hips against his hardness. He knew his sweet thing would come around sooner or later.

Pushing, pulling, biting- she had never been kissed like this. Like he was a sinner and she was his only salvation.

His hands travelled up her body, making way for her center. When she realized that, she began to push her clammy palms against his chest.

“No, please, I have never been touched before!” she cried into his mouth.

“Good, that means you’re pure and mine to taint,” he confidently chuckled. He knew all this was a show. He knew that she wanted him as well- with the way her nipples were perked up through her thin muslin gown and her wetness has seeped onto his robes.

Her body had accepted him. She just didn’t know it yet.

He pulled away as he looked at her. Salty tears streamed down her face as she bit her swollen lips in embarrassment and fear. She looked beautiful. His dream woman. He was finding himself softening up for her. His arms let her go and he set her down before ripping out a part of his clothing to cover her torn dress.

“Go, I don’t wish to be bothered with your pathetic crying. I want my wife willing and happy.”

She let out a deep breath of relief and sputtered out a small ‘thank you’ to him through her crying. He couldn’t help but lick his lips at the sight- missing her taste.

He knew that treating her like a doll was wrong, especially if he wanted her to be ruling beside him.

But he couldn’t help himself. Her little reactions were so adorable. He wondered if she would act the same on her wedding night.

—

why do I always feel like writing before an important exam 💀

[versupital]

2 cocky!

getoxreaderxgojo!

you recently fucked your roommate’s best friend behind his back. you think he’s going to hate you, but the two of them are actually excited to finally have you at the center of their web.

CONTENT: gojo x geto, gojo x reader, geto x reader, switch!geto, switch!reader, top!gojo, sex under the influence, bondage, tad of cuckolding, overstimulation, unprotected, creampie, afab!reader, vaginal and anal WHOOPS, kinda dacryphilia

word count. 🫣 idk i wrote it in a moment of being feral.

lowercase intended - just trying it to see how i feel about the aesthetic.

✯ song inspo: best friend ft. trey songz

“you should see her tears, satoru,” suguru grunts from above, his long cock burying itself in your stomach with each stroke, his balls clapping into your ass.

“bet she looks s’pretty cryin’ for us,” satoru grunts from below, mercilessly pounding into your other hole, his grip on the pretty ropes digging into your skin growing harsher with each pump.

now… how did you end up here? let’s roll the tape.

your back falls against the cushiony plush blanket of the hotel bed. thick hands hold you by the waist, nails locked in to prevent you from squirming away.

your lips are quickly attached to your roommate’s again, desperate and impatient. that wedding reception had lasted an eternity.

“f-fuck, suguru,” you chime out, parting your legs to allow him to glide between them. you’re so drunk, your party dress hiked up your sides, and your hair has fallen from its dainty clips and ribbons.

“need your dress off,” suguru responds with a coo, releasing your hips and finding the hem of the silky material. “but it looks too expensive to rip off of you the way i really want to.”

“who cares about taking it off,” you gasp, back flying off of the bed.

suguru grins, you don’t have to tell him twice.

you’d barely made it home from the wedding, where you’d been a bridesmaid, and he a groomsman. you’d been staring at suguru in his delicious little suit all night from across the stage where the bride and groom had gotten married, cunt in overdrive.

you’d started downing liquor to distract yourself, but every shot made the room a little more fuzzy around the edges, while sharpening suguru, as you zeroed in on him and the fat bulge that’d appeared in his suit pants.

by the time the two of you had made it back to the hotel, you were like rabid animals, clawing at each other in the elevator, leaving rough kisses on each other’s neck.

you grip him by his tie and pull it loose, beginning to unbutton his messy white shirt.

“oh, can’t believe i made it through that dreadfully long reception,” he grunts, hovering over you with his lips parted as he watches you work down his buttons. “wanted you bent over the dinner table.”

“we could’ve arranged that,” you coo, sitting up as suguru backs off of the bed and stands straight on the floor.

your hands have successfully finished popping his buttons but now they’re focused on his belt.

he shrugs off his blazer and discards it to a random corner of the room, looking down at you as you slide the leather garment out of his belt loops.

you feel a twinge of guilt, as this is the first time you’d been with suguru since you’d been filling yourself with his best friend, satoru. you’re thinking of your week long escapade with him now, cunt pulsing rapidly at the memory.

you hadn’t meant for it to happen, honest. suguru had been out of town and satoru was checking on you - per suguru’s request. one movie night later and you were pouncing on his cock, telling him how scared the movie made you, how his fat dick made you feel better.

you knew you were grimey for it, that suguru would probably not speak to you for a while if he found out. but right now, he doesn’t know, and he’s about to promptly fill you with dick.

“need you so bad,” suguru whines. “been too long, baby.”

you let out a deep sigh and unbutton his pants before shoving them down carelessly. “look at you, my needy little boy.”

suguru lets out a noise. “mhmm…”

“s’okay, gonna take care of you i promise,” you whisper, running your hand along his clothed bulge. he jerks in place and stares down at you.

“don’t tease,” he pouts. “i’ve already been waiting all night.”

you grin up at him, sliding your fingers down the side of his bulge, stroking him through his boxers. “but baby boy, that’s no fun.”

“hngh - i-i’ll do whatever y’want, please,” suguru begs, and you think it impossible to deny him when he’s so vulnerable like this.

“anything?” you question. “on your knees, sugu.”

suguru obeys immediately. you scoot your hips to the edge of the bed and spread your legs in front of him.

“yes baby,” he purrs, sliding his hands down the soft skin of your thighs before resting them right on your knees. “you want my mouth?”

“mhmm,” you huff, reaching for the waistband of your panties, frantically getting them off. “don’t make me ask twice.”

the needy boy wants nothing more than to make you feel good. he leans forward, eyes dilated with lust as he stares at your cunt that is wet for both him and his friend, and he has no clue. you try to put the images of satoru’s head fallen back, his lips parted, and his dripping cock out of your mind.

you momentarily forget when suguru’s wet tongue lands on your clit, lathering it sloppily with spit as his lips purse and he sucks the nerve ending.

you writhe immediately, hands desperately clinging to his roots. his own fingers are threatening to break open the skin of your thighs as he devours you, making eye contact to confirm he’s doing a good job.

“o-oh, satoru,” you moan softly, but unfortunately not soft enough for suguru not to hear.

his mouth freezes immediately and you feel yourself tense above him.

he pulls his face from you, “who?”

“woah, that was weird,” you say, cracking a nervous laugh. “your names are similiar, don’t know how i made that mistake. i’m sorry-“

“you’re sorry?” suguru releases your thighs and stands straight, his submission leaving the room, his anger clear on his face. “you were thinking about him, weren’t you? you don’t just make that kind of slip up. you never have and we’ve been doing this for a while, y/n.”

“sugu,” you chirp desperately, reaching out to him and feeling your stomach lurch when he recoils. “y-you know i didn’t mean to…”

he shakes his head. “satoru, what do you think i ought to do to her now?”

you blink, unsure you heard him correctly. he glances towards the closed wooden closet with little ridges in it. ridges that would easily allow someone on the other side to look into the room.

you stare in horror as the door opens and satoru steps out of it, the bottom half of his outfit discarded, his hand sliding over his erect cock.

“mm, dunno, but i wanna hear her moan for me again,” he lets out a wet breath as he stares at you, sprawled over the bed with your panties off and legs parted.

“what is this?” you ask, voice quivering. “you were watching us?”

“that’s right,” satoru hums, still stroking himself. “sick, isn’t it? but not any sicker than fucking two best friends, is it, y/n?”

you swallow thickly and stare between the two of them. you slowly close your legs and sit up. this has to be some kind of twisted fantasy, you think. the alcohol is clearly overcoming you.

“she wants us both, look at her.” suguru licks his lips as he eyes you. the two of them stare like owls as you stand and walk over to them, dress falling to cover your bare lower half.

you blink between them both, and to your surprise they each take one hand and pull you closer to them. now you’re surrounded, nearly sandwiched as they close in on you.

“didn’t think we’d find out, hm?” satoru coos, his hand leaving his cock and coming to slide over your shoulder, inciting a shiver from you. “we’ve all been hooking up with each other, you’re just the last one to know.”

your eyes widen. “you two…?”

“right,” suguru says, each of his hands creeping around your waist and satoru’s. “so, now that the cat’s out of the bag, don’t y’wanna know what we’re like together?”

your pussy is throbbing. you’re trying to avoid staring directly at satoru’s cock, but the way it’s twitching wantingly has your mouth nearly watering - but you’re also missing suguru’s wet lips attached to your cunt. the thought of both together…

“she’s thinking about it,” satoru cocks his head to the side, leaning in to drag his lips over your ear and down your neck. “don’t y’wanna make us feel good, princess?”

you shudder under his touch. his hand has slyly started pulling on the strap of your dress, sliding it down your arm. suguru’s leaning in closer now too, his breath tickling your cheek, his fingers still entangled in your dress.

your eyes flutter closed, imagining yourself bent over between them, your cunt full of cock as well as your mouth. it nearly makes you whimper aloud.

instead of responding, you turn your head and connect your lips to suguru’s; bringing a hand down to satoru’s cock and yanking him by the length.

he moans against your neck before you feel him smile, followed by a deep chuckle in your ear.

“need to hear you say it,” satoru says.

“y-yes,” you whisper desperately. “i wanna.”

“can’t wait to have you both screaming f’me,” satoru grits against your neck.

you and suguru both moan into each other’s mouths, your hand pumping satoru, slicking your fist up with his ample amount of needy precum. he’s nipping your neck with his teeth, his hands greedily continuing to rip off your dress, material shredding and falling to the floor.

you part from suguru and stare at him as you pant, while satoru breaks away from you and then pushes you towards the bed.

you land on your back, now fully naked, and you bite your lip while staring up at the two of them expectantly. satoru stands between your legs, a hand coming up as he takes his long fingers between your folds.

he reaches for suguru, who comes to stand next to him. suguru reaches for satoru’s cock and satoru does the same. all the while they pump each other, satoru’s other hand is expertly flicking rhythmic circles over your aching clit in time.

you stare at the way satoru and suguru play with each other, feeling a bit out of your comfort zone and a bit ashamed, but so incredibly aroused when you remember that they both want to fuck you. you can hardly find time to focus on that when satoru’s destroying your nerve ending with his delicate rubs.

he stares down at you while his arms flex from pleasuring the both of you.

“all warmed up, baby?” he questions, noting how your knees are starting to wobble in the air.

you nod, but it’s a mistake. he removes his hands and walks to the other side of the hotel room, where there’s a black bag on the floor.

you lay there, wantingly, and suguru comes to lean over you, planting a kiss on your forehead.

“you look a little nervous,” he whispers, and your face starts to grow warm. “remember our safe words are red, yellow, and green. you know what each one stands for, right?”

you bite your lip, nodding in understanding.

“so if you start to change your mind,” suguru says assuringly, “you say what?”

“red,” you answer.

“good girl,” he winks at you, before standing back tall and turning to satoru, who has returned with skinny tan ropes dangling from his hands.

“how do you feel about me binding your arms, princess?” satoru questions. “i know this is a lot to take in-”

“no!” you shriek, still so tipsy but now also cockdrunk and needy. “n-no, w-want you both. please. tie me up.”

satoru bites his lips and suguru steps out of the way. “such a good fucking girl, god. how did we manage to pick the perfect one, suguru?”

suguru hums in approval, his hands running wild over his own body as he watches satoru flip you over - roughly.

he pulls you into a standing position with your back against his chest, and suguru comes to be in front of you, where he grabs your red and pouty face while satoru is yanking your wrists behind your back.

“gonna look so pretty for us,” he coos, leaning forward to plant his slobbery lips on yours, and you take him into your mouth instantly - tongues dancing together so familiarly, all the while ropes begin to dig into your chest and stomach, as satoru expertly presses knots into your skin, your arms completely bound.

suguru keeps his mouth on yours, distracting you, nicking your bottom lip with his teeth and reverberating his moans down your throat.

and that’s pretty much how you found yourself pressed between the two of them like the cream in an oreo.

but oh, the positions they’d put you in before this.

you, on the edge of the bed, bent over while suguru holds onto your ropes like reigns on a horse. he fucks into your juicy cunt, awful wet noises filling the air with each pump of his desperate hips.

suguru’s moaning louder than anyone because, each time he pulls out of you, he takes more of satoru’s length. satoru stands stagnant while suguru fucks himself and fills you to your brim.

you’re bent over like a ragdoll, arms useless, drool pooling out of your swollen lips.

the next position had involved satoru getting his chance to slide into you. after quickly cleaning himself off, he was ready to fuck your poor cunt to the point of swelling. all the while, you lay with your head dangling off of the bed so that suguru can fuck your gummy throat.

his hands are on your chest, occasionally coming down to crack a hit across your poor nipples. if you were satoru, you’d be able to see the bulge filling your throat each time suguru thrusts into it. spit falls down your cheeks in a combination of your mascara stained tears, saliva bubbling around the base of suguru’s cock as you take every inch of him like a good girl.

meanwhile, satoru’s cock is stretching you much harder than suguru’s. suguru is longer, but satoru is girthier. his cock is pressing against your unfortunate elastic walls, forcing them to mold to the shape of his wet cock.

“oh, god, y/n,” satoru whimpers pathetically, “missed your pretty pussy, missed how desperate she feels clenching around me.”

suguru moans from above, “mm, y’should feel her throat. f-fuck.”

“look at my babies,” satoru chimes. “making him feel so good, y/n.”

it’s all so much, but you want to please them, and they want the same for you. they occasionally pause to check in.

“how y’feel, baby?” suguru chirps, sliding his soaked cock from your mouth.

“so green,” you breathe, a harsh rasp in your voice from having your vocal cords obliterated.

“think she needs a second,” satoru coos, pulling out of you as well, gripping you by your ropes to sit you up.

your cheeks are bright and warm, wet and stained, lips puffy and dripping saliva.

“so beautiful, so ruined,” satoru hums, reaching forward to wipe your cheeks as suguru pulls your hair out of your face, planting a kiss to your shoulder.

“i-i wanna make both of you cum,” you whine desperately. “w-want both loads inside of me.”

satoru cocks his head to the side. “inside of you? so filthy.”

“mm, that sounds nice,” suguru breathes into your neck. “our cocks rubbing together inside of ‘er till w-we cum.”

satoru nods greedily, stroking his cock with a tight fist as he stares down at the two of you.

so, now you lay on your back, satoru pinned underneath you. his cock has your tight ass feeling as though it’s going to light on fire, even though they’d oiled you up and lathered it in lubricant. you shift brainlessly between the two of them as suguru fills you from the front, and the friction of their cocks on the thin skin between your two holes has you drunk and unable to speak.

you all look dreadful, all flustered and sweaty and needy. suguru has puffy red claw marks all over his chest and arms, satoru’s hair is destroyed. everyone ruined and desperate in their own way.

the warmth of being enclosed by suguru and satoru has you purring like a cat, toes pointed in the air, attempting to leave kisses all over suguru’s shoulder as he dips his head into your neck.

your arms are still bound and useless, but your nails dig into satoru’s sweaty abdomen and he hisses below you.

“mmh - oh shit,” satoru whines in your ear.

“s-so tight like always,” suguru growls.

you can’t respond, throat swollen from being filled with cock but also your incessant wailing from the overwhelming amount of stuffing and pleasure.

“gonna stuff you so full of cum ‘till you’re dripping out of both holes,” satoru threatens, digging his fingertips wherever he can find them. one hand raises and grips suguru by his hair and you watch as suguru’s eyes roll back in his head.

“i-i’m gonna… ngh,” suguru loses control first, his body spasms and his cockhead jerks against the roof of your sludgy canal as the spurts come quickly and hot.

his cum pours into you without regard for anything else, and all you can do is lay there with your lips parted and take every last drop.

satoru decides you’re going to be next. he reaches around and starts toying with your clit, two long fingers swiping over it without a routine, just mindlessly trying to pull your cum out of you.

suguru’s strokes have slowed but they haven’t halted. he uses his sticky cum as more lubricant to fuck you through your high as you attempt to scream out, instead tears fill your eyes again and pour down your overstimulated cheeks.

“f-fuck!” each boy cries out, feeling you clench both holes around them, and this prompts satoru to fill you up a second time - thrusting harder as he makes sure you milk him of all he’s got.

“hah - mmh,” suguru whines from above you, pulling his strokes to a conclusion, his hands still desperately roaming your body as he twitches.

beneath you, satoru has dropped his hands against the mattress and closed his eyes, his heartbeat hammering into your back as you cockwarm him with your sore hole.

suguru pulls out and collapses next to you, and you roll off of satoru, who’s hands come up and slowly start to unravel your bondage.

your head falls on suguru’s sweaty shoulder and you close your eyes, feeling lightheaded.

“we’re sick,” you mutter aloud, not knowing what else to say.

“deranged,” suguru agrees.

“nasty.” satoru grins from behind you, and you feel the tension release your limbs and you stretch your arms for the first time in several hours.

“aw, look at the pretty red rope marks,” satoru whispers, dragging his finger along the skin and making you jump with sensitivity. “you did so good for us, honey.”

suguru nods and rotates his body to face you. his arm wraps around your hip and his palm rests on satoru’s.

“next time, we should tie up satoru and make him watch,” suguru grins.

you nod, yawning from the relaxing feeling of satoru’s hands massaging the searing red marks out of your skin, rubbing down your spine, as you breathe into suguru’s warm chest.

you can stay like this forever, you think, but it’s wrong. if all that you can get from the pair of friends is good sex every now and again, though, you’re satisfied with that. it doesn’t have to be anything more.

they’re just too cocky!

A/N:

@musepondersthings making a post about this exact scenario as i was writing it and nearly about to delete it because i thought it was too much is really living in my head rent free 😭

i… hope yall enjoyed, that is all i can say. im going to scrub my brain now. bye bye bye

~pennjammin