#I just had to get this off of my chest ok

[themusingsofacurlyhairednerd]

Ok I just saw your Vamp!Rhys brain rot headcanons post and I'm letting you know right now if you do not develop them into full blown chapters for Vamp!Rhys I'll literally sue for emotional damages ok thank you <3

lol I suppose I can make that happen ;)

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Ancient Recipes

The bed is, surprisingly, empty when you awaken, the last rays of evening light filtering in through a crack in the curtains. Your hands brush absently through the cold sheets as if they could tell you where he’d disappeared off to. He’s not usually up this early.

With a yawn, you slide out of bed and yank on one of his discarded shirts, leaving the silky button down open down the middle in a half-hearted attempt at decency before padding off in search of him. 

The library and game room is empty, the curtains pulled tight, the air a little stuffy. You can hear Cassian snoring from behind his closed door and a tendril of shadow still guard’s Azriel’s door handle, telling you that he’s not off with either of them this early.

Eventually, you find yourself wandering down into the kitchen, expecting it to be empty too, but figuring it’s worth a shot. You’re surprised to find Rhys bent over the stove, shirtless, sleep pants slung low over his hips as he carefully chops a mix of vegetables. His ears twitch as you walk towards him, a sure sign that he hears your approach. 

“You’re supposed to be sleeping,” he says without turning. You can hear the pout in his voice without seeing the purse of those full lips you love so much.

“Missed you,” you say as you slide your arms around his waist and bury your head between his shoulder blades.

He sets the knife down long enough to run a hand over where yours hold his waist. “I was coming right back.”

You place a kiss against his spine before leaning around him to get a better view of what he’s doing. “I didn’t know you could cook?”

“I am a thousand years old, Darling,” he purrs. “That’s a long time to not learn how to prepare a meal.”

There’s an old, hand written book propped up against the stone wall, the swirling script fading under the cruel hands of time in a language long forgotten. The pages are brittle and yellow now, the date written in the corner nearly illegible. 

“What are you making?”

Skilled hands throw in diced vegetables and dried herbs into a pot simmering with some sort of red sauce. “Something my mother used to make me,” he says softly. “These are her recipes.”

Your chest tightens. He’d told you about the hunters that had killed his mother and sister not long after that night when those hunters had come for you. He’d, understandably, been on edge since, the encounter bringing up a lot of old memories he hadn’t touched. It’s little surprise that he would try and find some solace here.

“Smells good,” you say. 

He twists and pulls you in front of him, so you can watch as he works. “Can’t find all the right ingredients,” he frowns. “Some of these spices have been lost to time. I think these will work instead. Hopefully.”

Rhys dips a wooden spoon into the bubbling liquid and brings it to your lips, “Try this for me?”

You give it a second to cool before taking a taste, the mixture both earthy and spicy, but deliciously warm. “It’s good!”

“Yes, but is it right?” He insists.

You tilt your head up to look at him, brows raised, “How would I know, Rhysand? By the sound of it, most of the things you’re missing were lost to the world before my parents were even born.”

You think if he was capable of it he might have blushed against the mistake. Instead, he kisses the top of your head. “I suppose I could ask Az.” He licks a bit of the mixture, frowning as he goes, before putting the spoon directly back into the pot. Apparently a key ingredient in ancient recipes is a little bit of saliva. 

A moment later, the shadowy vampire emerges, summoned for this oh so important errand. Azriel’s dark hair is sleep tousled, shadows swirling lazily around his bare shoulders. Any other morning with the two males looking like this you would have climbed them like a tree, but this morning is apparently for other things, as Rhys nearly flings the spoon in Azriel’s direction. 

“What am I missing?” He demands.

Az takes a taste and spits it into the sink. “What did you do?!” He all but shoves the two of you out of the way to reach for the spice rack in the cupboards above your head. “Your mother would have beat you with that spoon.”

“I know!” Rhys huffs. “What did I forget?”

Azriel starts opening old jars of dried herbs and adding them into the pot. “Egg and thyme for one thing, dumbass.”

Rhys grabs the book off the counter and looks more closely at the recipe, keeping one arm around your shoulders to have you close even so. “Oh, yeah I did forget the egg.”

Azriel cracks four of them into the mixture, before throwing in more herbs. “You’re cooking it too high too.”

Rhys brushes his lips over your hair. “Wanted to bring it to you in bed before you woke up.”

You twist and lean up on your toes to give him a proper good morning kiss. “I would have loved it anyway.”

“Human taste buds are disgusting,” Azriel huffs.

You hear Cassian’s footsteps before you see the half-awake vampire stumble into the kitchen. “Are we cooking what I think we are?”

“Not if Rhys has anything to do with it,” Azriel huffs.

“It was for Y/N!” Rhys returns. “I didn’t make enough for everyone.”

“But she’s so good at sharing,” Cassian says with a wink, his sleep thick voice enough to make heat pool between your legs. 

Rhys lifts you up and places you on the counter, beside where Azriel still chops more ingredients, so he can kiss you deeper this time. “Mine.” 

“Not with your cooking she’s not,” Azriel quips. 

Cassian tuts as he comes over to Azriel’s other side and dips a finger into the now simmering pot. Azriel smacks his hand with the back of the wooden spoon and Rhys hisses, fangs glinting in the candlelight.

“How are you supposed to take care of the little human if you can’t even cook her a decent meal?” He brings his fingers to his mouth for a taste, then frowns. “Do neither of you own any peppers at all? What is this, baby food?”

“I added the aleppo, just as the recipe said!” Rhys retorts. 

“You definitely didn’t! Your mother never made anything this bland!” Cassian insists.

“I’m following the recipe!”

Azriel snatches the book, scarred hands thumbing quickly through the pages. “I remember it being spicier.”

Rhys frowns. “Maybe we’re thinking of that other recipe she used to make?”

“No that one was for dinner,” Cassian returns. “I definitely remember a spicy breakfast dish. Especially on cold winter mornings.”

“He’s right,” Azriel chimes in, eyes still glued to the pages. 

“I mean, our tastes did change when we turned, maybe we’re the problem?” Cassian asks, running a hand over his face in thought. 

“Your tastes change when you turn?” You ask.

“A little,” Rhys says with a frown, violet eyes on the dish. “Maybe you’re right, Cass. Did you think it was spicy, Darling?” 

“A little,” you reply. “It could use more, I think, but again, I’ve never tried it before so I’m not exactly an expert.”

Cass peers into the pot. “It looks right.”

Azriel sets the book back on the counter with nothing short of reverence. “Guess it is us.”

Rhys’s face falls, it’s like watching him lose a piece of the past. You take his face in your hands and kiss the tip of his nose. “I think any mother would be proud to know that you loved something so much that you put all this effort into sharing it, whether is tastes the same or not.”

His grin is soft, like the kiss he plants on your lips, taking his time to pull out of it.

“Thank you for sharing a piece of you with me,” you say.

Azriel scoops it up into four small portions, the wooden dishes old and reminiscent of a time long passed. Not the formal dining ware they bring out at parties, but a little piece of home that managed to survive the passage of time. 

It’s delicious, Az had been right about needing the egg and thyme, it brings a more rounded flavor to the dish. But it would have been equally fine if Rhys had brought the first attempt to you in bed, simply because he loved you enough to try and make something for you even when he could not fully enjoy it himself. It tastes all the better because it’s something the four of you can share, can make new memories out of. You certainly will not forget it, not even in the coming change of your mortality. 

“Well now you’ve got me curious for what other ancient recipes you’ve been hiding,” you say as the meal comes to a close. 

“You make us sound like we’re old as dirt,” Cassian huffs. 

You wink up at Rhys as he kisses your temple. “A thousand years is a long time. What else can you make for me?”

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Cool for the Summer 4

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, age gap, power dynamics, cheating, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: After finishing your degree, you return home only to find things aren’t as you left them.

Characters: Bucky Barnes

Note: baby girls, he we go.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

You rinse out the bowl you used for your oatmeal. It’s only as the back door opens that you notice the roar of the mower’s stopped. You put the porcelain in the dishwasher and shut it as you hear footsteps down the hall. It’s almost ten o’clock. 

“Hey, baby girl,” Bucky greets your back as he enters. “I just put fresh water in the hot tub. Might go for a soak myself, try to loosen up these muscles.” 

You face him, “hot tub?” 

“Oh, yeah. Guess that’s new too.” He chuckles. “Another one of my projects.” 

“Right,” you nod. A sudden buzz makes your jump. 

You look around and scurry across the kitchen to grab your phone. It’s a message from your mom. But why would she text you? Can’t she just come downstairs? 

‘Is Bucky still there?’  

You stare at the message and frown. Huh? 

“Everything okay, doll?” Bucky asks. Your eyes flick up. 

“Um, yeah, erm, it’s my mom...” you shake your head. 

“Right, how’s work going for her?” He plants a hand on the counter and leans. 

“Work? It’s her day off,” you blink. 

“Ah, yeah, she said she didn’t want to wake you up when she left. She got called in. Emergency.” He explains. 

You clutch the phone as you stare at him dumbly. Why didn’t he mention that earlier? Well, it’s not on him, you could have checked. But if she’s gone, why is he still here? 

“Don’t spoil the surprise,” he says, “about the lawn.” 

“I won’t,” you look down and text her back. 

“So how about it? You up for a soak?” He asks again. 

“Um, I’ll think about it. Just gonna chat with my mom,” you waggle your phone at him and meander to the door. 

‘Great. You two can get to know each other.’  

Her answer is disappointing. You thought she’d be surprised, maybe confused. It’s all perfectly normal to them. You’re still adjusting. If she’d told you before you got there, it wouldn’t feel so strange. 

At the same time, you don’t want to let her down. You can’t just ignore her message. You have to try but you feel like you haven’t even had time to settle in. And he’s not the only thing that’s different. Your room doesn’t even feel like yours. 

You stand at the bottom of the stairs. You key in a final reply. ‘Ok’. That’s it. A tepid agreement. 

“Hey,” Bucky surprises you again. “Invitation stands,” he wipes his forehead, his bicep bulging as he does, the muscles of his chest straining. “I’m just going to get in my trunks.” 

“Uh, I... I’ll think about it,” you make yourself take a step up and climb steadily, refusing to look back. 

You stare at the phone. You don’t want to be rude. You’re sure there’s a reasonable explanation for why your mother didn’t mention him. You might do the same in her shoes. After so long being single, she was probably just letting it pan out. 

Still, she could have said something when you were on the train. 

Whatever. It’s not your place to complain. You’re still living under her roof, rent-free, after years of tuition on her dime and a lifetime of dependency. You can pretend like this is all okay. 

You go into your room and shut the door behind you. You wouldn’t have a swim suit in the dresser, you didn’t bother to pack it for college. Wherever your other clothes are, it should be there. You just don’t know where that is. 

A tank top and shorts should do the trick. You prefer that to an actual swimsuit. It won’t feel so revealing.  

You take out a hot pink spaghetti strap shirt and a pair of black shorts. You switch out your clothes, catching your foot in the shorts and tripping slightly. You stand up, shirtless, leaning on the vanity as you get your balance.  

You glimpse your reflection and shy away. You tie the string of the shorts and reach for the tank top. You pull it over your head and check yourself in the mirror. It will do. You hope. 

As you come out of the room, another door opens. You peer down the hall as Bucky emerges from your mother’s room. You gulp and flick your eyes away from him. He wears a pair of light blue shorts, so short you might mistake them for briefs. His thick thighs and torso flex with his movement as he approaches, a towel over his shoulder. 

“You changed your mind?” He asks as he comes closer. 

“Erm, well, I... I’ll give it a try. I’ve never really been in a hot tub, so...” You poke your fingertips together nervously. You don’t want to tell him your mother told you to be social. 

“Great, kinda feel like a loser sitting in there by myself. It’s really too bad your mom had to go in.” He sighs. 

Yeah, it is. You wonder why he didn’t mention it sooner. Or why he’s hanging around. You guess you don’t really know how things work around here anymore. 

“Don’t forget a towel,” he winks as he pats the one on his shoulder. “I’ll go get the cover off and you can come hop on in.” 

He brushes by you, his knuckle glancing off you as he does. You shuffle down to the linen closet and take out a towel. You don’t follow him right away. 

Your stomach is a flurry of nerves. It’s just the oatmeal. It always sits like a lump. You didn’t think about that, you were just hungry. 

You go downstairs and drag your feet to the back door. You come out onto the deck and peer around. The tub sits in the deck, installed where the table used to be. It steams as Bucky steps into it. He sighs and groans, muscles clenching up his back and sides. He must work out a lot. 

You look down at yourself. Self-consciousness creeps over you. It’s been a while since you thought so much about it. You tried not to focus much on your body; as long as you liked what you’re wearing, you don’t worry about what’s underneath. You don’t have the most extravagant taste but you have a few cute pieces. 

He lowers himself into the water and lets out another drone. He shifts around to face you but doesn’t seem to notice you as he closes his eyes and leans his head back. He takes a deep breath so his chest puffs out. 

You set your towel next to his on the small table near the edge. You near and stand at the lip of the tub. Can you just sneak away? 

“Hey,” his voice rolls over the bubbling water, “it’s not bad. Come on. It feels great. It’ll loosen you right up.” 

You nod and bite your lip. You get down on your butt before you ease yourself down onto the seat of the tub. The water steams and spits just beneath your shoulders. It is nice though it does raise a thick sheen across your forehead. 

“Mmm, trust me, when you’re mine age, you’ll need one of these,” he smirks. “So,” he stretches his arms around the frame of the tub, “what’s the plan, doll?’ 

“The plan?” You flap your lashes. 

“For the summer? Beach days with the girls? You wanna invite some friends over? You can have the tub to yourself,” he offers. 

“Mm, no, I... I’m looking for work. Uh, probably send out more applications.” You shrug. 

“Looking for a job? Ah, right, no more school, huh? Exciting. You got the whole world in front of you.” 

“Mhm, yeah,” you reach to rub your neck. 

“I’m sure you’ll still have time to hang out with your friends,” he insists. 

“Uh, I don’t... I don’t really have any,” you utter. You look away and stare at the fence. 

“No? Well, all my buddies are too busy for me. I know how you feel.” He says, “you know, we could be friends.” 

“Um, yeah, maybe,” you look at him again as you chew your lip. His eyes snap up from your chest. You look down and try not to show your horror. Your nipples are entirely visible as the pink fabric clings to you. You cross your arms. “You’ll be busy with my mom.” 

“Not all the time,” he says “You know, ever since she got this promotion, she’s been too busy for me.” 

“Ah, erm, I'm sorry.” 

“Why are you sorry?” He asks. 

You shake your head, “I don’t know...” 

“Mm, I know why,” he tilts his head. 

You stare at him in confusion. 

“You know a guy like me shouldn’t be kept waiting around. You’re a sweetheart, aren’t you? You can’t help but feel bad knowing I’m left all on my own. Lonely.” He traces a finger along the edge of the tub as he speaks. 

“I... guess. I don’t... know? I just...” You look away again. You can hardly stand the heat of the water as it boils your blood. 

He snickers and you wince as he shifts around the tub, sliding into the seat next to you. He slips his arm behind you as he does. You shrink down and stare at the deck railing. What is he doing? 

“This is nice, isn’t it? Getting to know each other?” His fingers tickle your shoulder as he crowds you. “You know, seems like we have a lot in common, doesn’t it?” 

“Um, erm,” you squirm in the seat. “I think... maybe... I should...” 

“Relax, it won’t do you any good if you don’t relax,” he girds. “I’m just saying, baby girl, seems like we’re both pretty lonely.” 

He leans back into the hot tub and lets his head fall back. You bend your arm, rubbing your other, and fidget. You want to just go but you’re scared to move. You don’t think you’re really afraid of him, he probably won’t stop you, but you’re just all locked up. 

You sit there, staring through the slats at the green lawn. The water babbles and your ears pulse. He continues to caress your shoulder. 

“Mm, baby girl, come on, just let yourself...” he taps your arm, “lean back, huh?” 

You obey. You lean back into the tub and slide down in the seat, trying to mimic him. Your head hits his arm as you recline. It is nice as the jets shoot up your back. 

“Wait, wait, you gotta get in the right...” he grabs your thigh and drags you towards him. “..place. Make sure you hit all the pressure points.” 

As he moves you, you spasm and cry out in surprise. A jet blows right against your shorts, a stream of water that sends tingles through you. You try to move back but he holds you in place. He squeezes your thigh and kneads. 

“Ah, yeah, baby girl, right there? Doesn’t it feel good?” 

You squeak as the water hits your clit through your thin shorts. You put your hand on his and wiggle. That only makes it more intense. Does he know what’s happening? 

“Please...” you gasp. 

“What did I say? Relax,” he continues to rub his fingertips into your thigh. “You’re all tense, baby girl. Let it go.” 

Your eyes round and you contort, trying to take the pressure off your clit. It doesn’t help. You puff out and grab onto his arm without thinking. He needs to let go. You can feel a throbbing inside of you. It hurts. Please, stop. 

The sensation crests and coils through you. Your muscles clench then release all at once. You squeal in shock and shame as your body twitches. You think you just... orgasmed? 

“Baby girl, what is it?” Bucky leans into you. 

“I...” you heave. “I-- nothing.” 

“Mmm, nothing?” His hand crawls up your leg and over your stomach. He twists and bends his arm, cradling your head and turning you to face him. You shiver as he cups your chest through the wet fabric and runs his thumb over the hard bud beneath. “Cause I think you just came in this nice clean water.” He leans in closer until you feel his breath against your lips, “baby girl, I thought you were going to be good for me?” 

[guiltyreverie]

Remedy

Part 1 || Part 2 || Part 3

Pairing: Satoru Gojo x reader

content tags: slow burn, enemies to lovers, gojo being an ass (what’s new lmao), arranged marriage, clan issues

Warnings: NSFW mdni, toxic relationship, heartbreak, self doubt and insecurities, rough oral sex, m!receiving, f!receiving, praise kink, light punishment kink, rough blowjob, no actual sex yet, this is my first time writing smut so bear with me ok 😔, not proofread tbh, buckle up this is one heck of a ride :))

A/n: I’m not sure how many parts this will have as of now (kind of going with the flow)

Summary: When Gojo confessed his feelings for you, you couldn’t have been any happier - you were a fool

Word count: 8.3k

“Shut up, Satoru. Or we’ll get caught.”, you giggle into his neck.

“What are you gonna do, hmm?”, he grins and his hands wrap tightly around your waist pulling you closer towards him, the giddy feeling in your stomach only increasing with every minute you guys spend together.

The both of you have rarely spent time apart, ever since your engagement party three months ago, almost every day, you’d hang out and go on several dates. It’s almost too good to be true but here you were all shits and giggles and embracing whatever comes next as long as he’s here, with you.

Right now you were in an unoccupied class room, skipping a class, prefering to hang out with each other more.

You roll your eyes at his mischievous smile and kiss him: “I can do that?”, you plant several kisses down his jawline up to his neck, his grasp tightening around you and you were sure you almost heard him whimper when you reached a spot right above his collarbone.

He chuckled nervously: “Now, come on, sweetheart”, he clears his throat and takes a step back, his face flushed and a certain uncertainty sparked in his eyes.

You take that as a cue that you were breaching a boundary and awkwardly step back as well; the slight sting in your chest was almost like a slap to the face, an insecurity you thought had vanished is gnawing at the back of your head but you respected him and his wishes - if he wanted you to stop, you would.

“Hey,”, he stares at you contemplating, something for a second - did he see the doubt building inside of you? If yes, he chose to ignore it, because soon after he grabs your hand and nudges you to follow him outside, his reasoning being ‘we wouldn’t want to miss all of our classes today.’.

You shrug the gnawing feeling off of you, not wanting to be so insecure in your relationship so early on and cause unnecessary drama, you just need to get yourself sorted out. You let him drag you outside to your next class, in the meantime you try to dissolve the mess inside your head - maybe if you ignored it, it would disappear.

When Satoru turns towards you, you quickly smile at him and he winks at you; he lets go of your hand and instead wraps his arm around your neck.

“There’s this nice restaurant in Shibuya, if you want to we can go check it out after school. Maybe a little shopping beforehand?”, he kisses the side of your head, “How does that sound?”.

“Your treat?”, you grin at the mention of a date and were already gushing about what to wear in your head - you had to call Haname for help later.

“Of course, my treat. Anything for my girl.”, he smiles at you, your cheeks flush and you slightly hit him as some sort of compensation; you were so flustered at being called ‘my girl’ you fail to notice the slight guilt glimmering in his eyes.

Right now, you were so content with everything, you almost start to skip in your steps (girl is head over heels istg 😭).

If somebody had asked you, when did you fall for Satoru, you didn’t have the answer, it had just been building up over the years - heck maybe you always had cared for him you just didn’t notice? Maybe it was hidden behind the teasing you had grown to adore him. But even that seemed unimportant in the face of the warm spring breeze, it made you think, no matter what, the flowers would always end up blooming, despite whatever they are going to face.

When the classes are over Satoru drops you off at your dorm and you immediately go take a shower and call Haname over.

“This dress?”, you show her a black shoulder free dress that went up to your knees with a small slit reaching the mid of your thighs, “or this dress”, now you held up a baby blue colored dress with slightly loose sleeves at your hands with a heart shaped neckline that reached mid thighs - the black one is elegant, the blue one more cute.

She contemplates both options: “You’re also going around the mall, right?”

You nod.

“Baby blue.”

The anxiety in your chest gnaws at you: “What if it’s really fancy and I end up being underdressed?”

She gives you a quick glance - probably questioning where you left your head - before shaking her head: “You can still style it with your jewelry because if you guys are gonna walk around first the baby blue one is the better fit. I can imagine it gets very uncomfortable in the black one really fast.”

You sigh in frustration and bite your lip: “I’m overthinking this, aren’t I?”, you sat down next to her, you were being completely irrational but you just wanted everything to be absolutely perfect.

She gives you a small sheepish smile: “Just a teensy tiny bit.”, she gestures with her hand to show you exactly how tiny and you chuckle with a slightly nervous undertone.

“I just- I don’t want to make a mistake, make it go back to the point we didn’t talk for months.”, you look down playing with your fingers, you felt like you had just cracked open the window in the cold winter night; exposing your ugliest and deepest thoughts you had so desperately tried to ignore.

She quickly wraps her arms around you in comfort: “Do you really think Satoru is so shallow to break up with you over a dress?”, she holds you at arms length now and stares at you, analyzing you, “there’s more to it, isn’t there?”

You nod slightly - god voicing it out loud makes you realize just how ridiculous you probably sound right now - you let out a shaky breath: “What if I’m not good enough? I’m not her and no matter how hard I’ll try, I will never be her.”

“Did he tell you that? Because I swear to-“, she immediately gets up, preparing herself to beat up Satoru but you quickly grasp her hand and stop her from doing anything reckless.

“No, he didn’t, he never would.”, you shake your head violently, “I just feel like I have to compensate because he gave her up for me.”

She scoffs: “Dear, I love you, but you are being very dumb right now.”, her hand runs through her hair in frustration, “he didn’t give her up for you, he chose you. There is a difference.”

“I know, I’m being ridiculous but I can’t help but feel that way.”, the stone in your chest keeps getting bigger and you start to wonder when you’ll finally burst.

“Did you talk to him, tell him about this insecurity?”

You shake your head and you swear she’s about to hit you for your idiocy but decides against it, instead she firmly grabs your arms and shakes you.

“Talk. To. Him.”

“Gods, no.”, your eyes widened as if she was the one being ridiculous now.

She deadpans: “You’re hopeless.”

“Thanks.”, you reply sarcastically.

“Why won’t you tell him?”, she asks in such confusion - he’s your boyfriend, you should be able to tell him how you feel.

“It’ll pass, he doesn’t need a confirmation seeking, untrusting girlfriend.”

She sighs, like she gave up: “You should really work on your self-esteem.”

“Can we drop it now? It’s just passing thoughts, by tomorrow they are gone.”, you clear your throat unsure if you could even believe yourself right now.

“Are they really gonna pass or will they be buried so deep, you won’t ever acknowledge them again.”

You wink at her and then stand up to grab your curling iron. Your hair doesn’t get done by itself.

She gives you a look of disapproval but takes the curling iron out of your hand.

“I’ll do your hair, you can focus on your makeup.”

You smile at her and get yourself ready.

Once you’re finished you give yourself a nod of approval.

“You look hot and cute- if he doesn’t eat you out today i don’t know.”, she grins.

You bite the inside of your cheeks - will he? Or will he stop like all the other times you initiated something?

You shake your head in a weak attempt to get rid of your intrusive thoughts, he isn’t ready to go all the way with you, you shouldn’t push him.

“You’re right.”, you grin, maybe if you pretend to be fine, you’ll actually be fine in the end.

When you’re done you message Satoru, that you’re ready to go out and a few minutes later he’s already knocking at your door.

You glance at Haname, she gives you a thumbs up and you finally manage to open the door, your heart thumping so loudly, you can barely hear your own breath.

Upon the sight of you Satoru halts mid-greeting: “You look absolutely stunning.”, he kisses your cheek and hands you a bouquet of black dahlias.

“Thanks”, the tension in your shoulders slowly dissipates, “you look very handsome yourself.”, you grin at him and smell the flowers: “They look so pretty and smell so nice.”

“Just thought they looked pretty, like you.”, he grins smugly.

Your face flushes and you cough a little out of embarassment; you gesture for him to enter while you quickly put them in a vase.

He smiles at you and waves at Haname upon seeing her before he grasps your hand and drags you out of the door and yells: “I’m kidnapping this one.”

You shake your head at his antics and laugh: “You never change, do you?”

“Never.”, he smiles but the cold glint in his eyes betrays him.

You felt like an idiot - of course you just had to say the wrong thing - you knew what he went through when Geto decided to walk away.

“I’m sorry if I hit the wrong button.”, you squeeze his hand as a form of apology.

“It’s okay. It’s not your fault.”, he smiles and squeezes your hand back in return.

When you both reach the car, he opens the door for you and walks to the other side and sits down beside you in the backrow. He tells the driver to drive to the mall and pick you guys up at 6.

The drive takes longer than you had initially expected, the city bustling with people and cars due to the weather getting warmer, you don’t necessarily mind, still fascinated by the little things in life.

Your gaze follows the children playing around with each other, friends talking together - having fun; sometimes it just shakes you up that each one of these people had their own life, their own stories and you wish you could hear them all.

“What’s got the cogs in your head all running?”, Satoru shakes you out of your thoughts.

“All of them, out there”, you nod towards the crowd, “they’re all living their lives, have their own perspectives, they’re their own main characters. It’s nothing new but the realization is so odd sometimes.”, you shrug at him, secretly you hoped he’d understand, even join you in such a philosophical topic - get a glimpse inside what’s going on in his head.

He smiles at you and leans his head towards you, one of his eyebrows raised: “You mean, like realizing not everything revolves around you?”, you inhale a sharp breath, he said it with such a sweet tone and yet it felt like such a passive aggressive dab at you.

You stay silent for a few seconds, considering your next words carefully, it seemed like that’s all you do around him recently - walk on eggshells - your inner self laughs at you demeaningly - is this how you’re supposed to feel like in a relationship? You interrupt yourself before it gets worse - no bad thoughts tonight.

“I didn’t mean that.”, you almost scoff, slightly offended, but you hold it in, maybe he didn’t notice how provocative he sounds.

He raises an eyebrow: “maybe you didn’t say it outright, but you clearly meant it.”

You sigh: “Let’s not start fighting about a mere observation.”, you tense up slightly.

He chuckles: “Your wish is my command.”

Finally the driver pulls into the parking lot and you’re more than happy to get out of the car and get a fresh breath of air. Distraction is what you both probably need right now.

Satoru waves goodbye to the driver and you quickly fix your dress before you step in, Satoru close behind you.

“Anything specific you want to check out?”, he grabs your hand and gives it a small kiss.

“I was thinking about new dresses. We have to attend many family gatherings this month and then there's our annual big sponsor announcement - we need to get you a suit.”, you contemplate if there’s anything else you need but decide that’s it for today.

He groans: “Can’t we just stay at home and cuddle instead?”

You chuckle at him and squish his face: “No. If it’s any consolation, though, we can cuddle afterwards.”, you grin.

He sighs playfully: “At least something good is coming out of these family events.”

“Y’know we don’t need family gatherings to cuddle? You can just come over.”, you suggest, maybe he would finally be the one to initiate some romantic action.

“I’ll think about it.”, he hums playfully; leaving you incredibly frustrated again - the nagging sensation that had been nestling in the back of your head had reappeared - why did he always almost entirely refuse any type of intimacy between you?

You nudge him while you roll your eyes - don’t show him your worries - you repeat almost like a mantra in your head.

“Is there anything you want to check out?”, you ask him, completely open to anything he wants to do, really, you just wanted to finally cross the bridge that’s almost always holding you at arm’s length away from each other.

“Not really, just want to spend the day with you.”, he smiles, “Now let’s go get you some pretty dresses.”

You smile, albeit, a little more coldly than you’d like to admit and you both look around the different shops.

Several shops and try-ons later you had a few dresses, Satoru’s suit in several different bags, all held by Satoru. You still were in the cabin trying on your last dress - a long red backless V-cut dress - you’d probably wear this to the sponsor event, it’s a little eye-catching but that’s how it’s supposed to be and it looked good.

Leaving the cabin you were about to turn when you see Satoru on his phone; you call out his name and he slightly tenses up and quickly puts his phone away.

You narrow your eyes in suspicion but decide to ignore it and do a little twirl: “What do you say?”

He gets up from his seat and walks around you, blowing a whistle: “You look breathtaking, absolutely stunning.”, he grins, “no man would be able to keep your eyes off you and then in despair, they’d have to realize that she’s taken to this dashing young man.”, he gestures at himself and you let out an amused chuckle.

“You’re unbelievable.”

“You love it.”, he winks.

“Unfortunately.”, you sigh playfully.

“Now, hush.”, he rushes you back into the cabin, “we have a reservation at 6:30.”

You laugh: “Since when do you care about punctuality?”

He gasps in mock-offense: “Since always!”

“Sure.”, you hum in complete disbelief and quickly take off the dress and give it to Satoru to pay for it.

While he pays for it you change into your normal dress and get out, waiting for him outside. Soon he steps outside and you guys walk to the parking lot where your driver should be.

He whines as soon as he steps into the car: “I forgot how exhausting shopping is.”

“It wasn’t that bad. Besides, you suggested it!”, you nag him.

“Yes, I did, that doesn’t make it any less exhausting.” , he pouts in all his 6 foot 3 glory and you chuckle.

“You’re such a child.”, you grin.

He scoffs: “I’m not!”

“Of course you aren’t, my big baby.”, you coo mockingly and pinch his cheek like a grandma.

He lightly slaps your hand away and grins: “Don’t hurt the masterpiece.”

“The masterpiece should get a hold of his ego.”, you roll your eyes, a comfortable feeling engulfs you - when had you been this comfortable the last time?

He winks: “You can get a hold on this ego.”, you almost scoff - is this the same man that cockblocks you and himself all the time?

You decide to be bold, test the waters: “What if I do?”, your shoulders tense up slightly, the fear of another rejection never disappearing.

His eyes widen slightly and he starts to chuckle nervously: “Now, love, behave, our driver can hear us.” and your face flushes in embarrassment but it doesn’t stop you from not understanding the underlying subtone - another rejection.

You start to wonder just how long you’ll be able to hold in your feelings; it wasn’t getting any easier, not when any attempt to take a step he takes two steps back, it was frustrating to say the least, made you feel like he didn’t actually want you and it was slowly but surely suffocating you.

“When will you let me in?”, you mumble, tired of this back and forth you lean your head against the window and decide to close your eyes for a bit; maybe he had heard you, maybe he hadn’t, you don’t know - the rest of the drive is silent.

It seems like you dozed off during the latter half of your drive because you wake up to Satoru gently shaking your shoulder and telling you, you had arrived.

You nod and get up still slightly out of it so when you get out of the car, you’re a little dizzy and lean on Satoru’s chest, you can hear his breath hitch a little.

“You okay, sleepyhead?”, he chuckles and you nod.

“Just a second.”

“Take all the time you need, love.” , he smiles and wraps his arms around your waist to secure you.

After a few more seconds in the fresh air your sleepiness finally disappears and you’re ready to go in.

“Alright, I’m ready.”, he gives you a quick glance, probably confirming for himself, if you are actually ready and then guides you inside, his one hand not leaving your waist.

The both of you step inside and you’re fascinated by its glimmering aesthetic of black and gold, it was elegant and prestigious, absolutely beautiful, the tables each decorated with wonderful ornaments that suited the restaurant's interior design - just how did you never hear of this place?

A waiter welcomes you and asks for your name, then guides you to a table with Gojo’s name on it and leaves you to settle in and check out the menu.

You gush at Satoru: “Just how did you know about this place?”

He smiles, yet it was more of a painful smile: “I came here with someone once.”

Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion: “Who?”, and then it hit you; her, it had to be Hiyori, he’d never take anyone else to this type of restaurant, your teeth clench together and you grip the edge of your seat tightly, you were absolutely furious - did he have to take you to a restaurant where he previously went with his ex? “You have to be kidding me.”, you deadpan, you didn’t want to fight, not today, never actually, but how much longer are you supposed to feel like the second option, the one that will always remind him of what he could have had, the one that will never be enough for him.

There’s only so much you can tolerate.

“It’s not how you think it is.”, he attempts to grasp your hand but you immediately slap it off.

“You were here with her.”, you raise an eyebrow, you were stating the obvious, hell anyone that knew him would figure it out.

“I- yes, but it doesn’t mean anything to me. It’s a nice restaurant that I wanted to show you. Nothing else.”, he justifies himself and you almost can’t believe him - he doesn’t even realize just what this implies.

“Satoru, the only thing, stopping me from immediately getting out of here, is that I don’t want to draw attention to us.”, you click your tongue, you knew this rage would turn into pain sooner or later but right now you’d rather feel angry than drown in self-pity and misery.

“Just-“

“Have you decided what you’d like to order?”, the waiter from earlier shows up and stares at Satoru with his notepad in his hand.

He starts to speak up: “No-“

“Yes, I’d like a glass of sparkling water and your Wagyu Steak, can you also add a Caesar Salad for the both of us?”, you smile at the waiter and for the first time this evening he looks at you instead of Satoru and you swear you can see him falling right here and now for you, as if his slowly reddening cheeks didn’t give him away.

“Yes, of course, anything for you.”, he smiles, from the corner of your eyes you can see Satoru clench his jaw and angrily tap his fingers on the table; you almost laugh out loud - he had the audacity to be jealous, now? The waiter's gaze lingers a little longer than necessary on you and you just keep looking back, normally you wouldn’t act like this - so immature but the bitter aftertaste his ex left on your relationship just made you act in ways you’d never had before. The waiter seems to finally snap out of it when Satoru clears his throat, absolutely furious at him or you - you didn’t care; let him. He smiles nervously: “And what can I get for you, sir?”

“Same as hers.”, he replies curtly, looks like he wants to get him away from the table as fast as possible.

The waiter nods and steps back but not without catching another glance at you.

“Could you stop playing into his desire for you?”, he scowls and you scowl right back.

You were about to play a dangerous game but god you wanted him to feel the same way you did, make him suffer just as much and the opportunity was handed to you on a silver platter.

“He was merely taking my order.”, you roll your eyes.

“Yeah, sure, he was.”, he replies, his voice dripping with sarcasm and he leans forward, “You’re mine, don’t think some small waiter has a chance.”

You gulp, fuck that was hot, you’d even tease him back if you hadn’t been so mad, so hurt.

“I’m not your property.”

“No, but you’re wearing my ring.”, his darkened eyes brimming with anger, jealousy, it might sound pathetic but seeing him like this, finally made you feel wanted, the feeling you had craved for so long, feeding the insecure monster inside of you - the amount of power you let him have over you was absolutely dangerous.

Soon the waiter comes back with your drinks, Satoru’s scowl only deepens upon his sight and either the waiter didn’t notice or simply didn’t care because he still gives you a friendly smile and you give him a simple ‘thanks’.

“Anything else I can do for you whilst the food is being prepared?”, he mostly looks at you, letting the ‘angry Gojo pot’ almost overflow.

You smile back and order two glasses of their finest champagne.

“Yes”, he clicks his tongue in absolute anger, and demands, “give me a waiter that doesn’t wonder what’s under my fiancée’s pants.”

“Satoru!”, and he looks at you with such intensity, almost daring you to speak up against him and for a second you wonder who the man in front of you is.

The waiter chuckles nervously, trying to calm down the situation but Satoru wouldn’t have any of it: “Unless you want to lose your job, do as I say.”, he was challenging him, Satoru was beyond pissed and some twisted side of you couldn’t get enough of it.

The waiter quickly leaves and you give him an apologetic glance, earning another angry glare from Satoru.

“You’re overreacting.”, you deadpan.

“I’m not.”, how his teeth haven’t shattered by how hard he’s clenching his jaw, remains a mystery.

“Are we ever gonna come here again?”, you cautiously ask.

“Fuck no.”, he shakes his head almost immediately, “never again.”

“Do you finally understand why I’m angry that you’re taking me to the same place you took your ex to?”

His eyes widened just slightly, almost unnoticeable, but you noticed and he nods.

You smile at him awkwardly: “feels shitty, doesn’t it.”

“Yeah, I’m sorry.”, he bites his lips, finally some sort of rationality is getting to him.

“Just don’t do it again.”, you sigh, wanting to get rid of the sour mood on the table, “you look incredibly hot when you’re jealous.”, you glance at him innocently.

“Don’t do it again, or I might end up killing someone.”, he groans.

You chuckle: “toughen up, loser.”

He rolls his eyes playfully: “You’re unbelievable.”

“You love it.”, you grin back.

He grins back, his eyes sparkling in the light of the restaurant and for a few minutes you forget the underlying issues, hiding like mines in the field, waiting for anyone to step on them and get them to explode, leaving only destruction behind.

You take a sip from your champagne and enjoy the bubbling taste swirling on your tongue.

„Any plans for tonight?“, the curiosity gnaws at your throat and you stare at him, slightly tensed; were you being greedy? Maybe, nonetheless it doesn‘t stop you from asking questions you‘ll most likely end up regretting upon hearing their answer.

„No“, he smiles gently, „only plans with you.“, you ease up, except the piling mass of frustration that chained you down like a madman, didn‘t really let you.

Even if the universe wanted you to be at peace, you‘d be its biggest enemy. Just why can‘t you have faith in his feelings for you; why did it always end up with you second-guessing him or yourself.

„Good“, you chug down the glass of champagne, letting the fizziness drown out your inner distraught.

He chuckles, oblivious to what is going on inside your head, „eager much?“

„It‘s just-„, you lick of the remains of it from your lips, „really good“.

He simply lifts up his hand and orders another one for you.

Your dinner is served very quickly and you enjoy the rest of the evening in the restaurant.

Time passes quickly and you‘re already about to step into your dorm, the question falls off your lips before you can even think about it: „Do you want to come in?“

He‘s hesitating, you see it in the way he glances outside and the way he is biting the inside of his cheek.

„You don‘t have to- mere courtesy, really.“, you spit out nervously, the feeling of walking on eggshells is washing over you again.

„No, I want to.“, there‘s pity in his eyes, you know he‘s lying, god you almost want to take back your question, you hated it when he looked at you like this, if you weren‘t so desperate for any type of attention from him, you‘d maybe actually respect yourself and stop begging for his attention, but you don‘t, you push it down for your next cycle of self-hatred.

You grab a pair of joggers and a shirt that are way too large for you and hand it to him, „in case you want to get into something more comfortable“, you mumble, not really looking at him.

He sighs and disregards the clothes in your hand, this time almost immediately noticing something is wrong with you, he grabs your face and gently strokes your cheek: „What‘s wrong, doll?“, concern fills up his eyes.

„It‘s nothing, really.“, you wrap your hand around the hand that is caressing your cheek and gently squeeze it, you don‘t want him to know about your ugly thoughts.

He furrowed his eyebrows, clearly not believing you, „I can‘t fix what I don‘t know about.“, there‘s still that concerned tone in his voice but you can‘t deny the underlying annoyance hidden in between.

You bite your lip, an internal battle unfolds, you don‘t want him to be annoyed with you but your carefully manufactured armor of false self confidence was crumbling and any hit would be fatal to your general well-being.

After a few seconds, he seemed to grow impatient, with a deep sigh he finally slips out of the embrace.

No- in the spur of the moment you grab his arm, stop him from leaving you, the final hit shatters your armor and you take a deep breath.

„Sometimes I feel like this relationship is so one-sided.“, you gulp, you don‘t want to look him in the eyes.

„What the fuck do you mean, y/n?“, he asks softly, his voice laced with confusion.

„It feels like I have to beg for your affections, Satoru“, you finally muster up the courage to look him in the eyes but the intensity in them made you look down again, you‘re feeling way too vulnerable for your own comfort.

He grabs your chin, his breath heavy, forcing you to look him in the eyes. He analyzes every single aspect of your face: „For how long have you been feeling that way?“, he croaks.

„I don‘t know.“, you shrug.

„Why have you never told me? Have you ever even considered telling me? Or did you just plan to bury it down until you‘d be tired of it and simply break up with me?“, he didn‘t raise his voice but it sure as hell made you feel like he was yelling at you, scolding you like a child.

„I don‘t want to have to speak about this. Just what is so hard about showing me you actually care about me?“, you bite your lips, you didn‘t want your date night to end up in an argument, but you‘d be lying to yourself if you didn‘t feel good about finally spilling what haunts you in the late hours of the night.

He seems to contemplate his next action and you keep staring at him, waiting for him to decide, keep arguing or acknowledge what you‘ve been feeling and trying to suppress for so long.

You anxiously stare at him, the clock was ticking, the room so silent it equaled a firework, add in the light tapping of your foot on the floor, you sensed a headache incoming, especially if this doesn‘t get resolved fast now that it‘s in the open.

Another sigh, a step closer to you, you wanted to step back, but your body was not your own anymore, not really, you had just been a doll, in the hands of the doll maker, rarely acting on your own, always listening to his demands, boundaries and needs - putting him first because he mattered more to you than you mattered to yourself, a fool, really - discarding yourself in the pretense of love.

„I‘m sorry, doll, I‘m so sorry.“, he grasps your cheeks, the tenderness with which he embraces you, the soft look in his eyes, for a second you wonder how you could‘ve ever doubted him.

„It‘s okay“, you lean into his touch, why do you always crave him so much?

He gently kisses your forehead: „I promise, I‘ll do better, yes?“, you close your eyes and nod - a silent agreement, his cologne consumes you and you‘re ever so soft for him, your problems seeming almost irrelevant, overdramatic even.

Satoru grabs your face and leans down to kiss you, a smile on his face. You smile back and sigh in content, his breath lightly tickling your nose. The kiss deepens as he wraps his arms around your waist tightly and you reach up to wrap yours around his neck, the need to be as close to him as possible growing with each kiss shared between you. His hand starts to roam around your body, when it reaches the curve of your ass, he smirks lightly and squeezes it. A gasp leaves your mouth and you have to break the kiss, questioning his intentions but too light-headed and caught in the taste of him to actually judge him properly.

„What?“, he smiles at you and leans down to whisper in your ear, „Didn‘t you want this?“, he continues as he bites your ear lightly.

Your face flushes and your brain short-circuits at the possibility of what‘s next.

Satisfied with your bright red face, he continues, „Already blushing for me? Could you even handle what I want to do to you?“

„I‘m sure I can hold myself against you, get off your high horse.“, you scoff at him - you weren‘t sure, at all, your brain after all stops working whenever he‘s in arm‘s reach but he didn‘t need to know that, you had at least a little bit of pride left.

He hums knowingly: „Prove it.“

„Oh, I will.“, you scoff and before you can say anything else he grabs you a little roughly by your throat and kisses you, sending butterflies right down to your lower stomach.

Your fingertips trace around his chest slowly going lower and lower as you continue to make out, you felt like you were on cloud nine, Gojo Satoru is overwhelming you. The kisses turn sloppier, heavier, his hand squeezed your throat lightly and you gasp, drunk on him, feeling the wet spot in your panties you pull him closer by his belt, unable to control yourself any longer.

Satoru steps forward, not letting go of your throat and your lips and you stumble backwards, not expecting the sudden movement, until you reach the edge of your bed and he lets go of you and stares down at your flushed face and despite being fully clothed you felt very naked under his almost primal gaze.

„Sit down.“ he commanded, and you sat down, how could you not when he looked at you like he was about to eat the best meal of his life and it made you giddy, sending shivers right down your spine - you’d willingly let him do anything he wants to you.

He took off his shirt and your eyes widened, you had forgotten despite his seemingly lanky appearance he had muscles underneath. Hungrily you lean forward and your fingers reach for his belt, the need to touch him growing rapidly, he leans forward as your fingers start to undo his belt and he kisses you pushing you down further into the mattress, his arms caging you in, the size difference between you guys making you feel like a small rabbit in a lion’s den.

“You’re so beautiful, y/n.”, he whispers into your lips.

You reach forward to kiss him but he draws back a little and you almost whine at him in frustration like a little girl.

“Desperate, aren’t we?”, he tsk’ed and smiled, his lips trailing down the corner of your lips, to your jaw and finally landing on your neck.

He continues to leave kisses all around your neck while his hands trace all over your body until they finally land on the back of your thighs and spread them so he could place himself between them. His crotch met yours and you hissed at the sensation, your insides turning to jelly, too flustered to say anything else you grab his hair and tug at it lightly, especially when his lips reached a soft spot on your neck you couldn’t help the moan escaping your lips and dug your fingers even further into his hair, he was igniting a fire inside of you and you weren’t sure if you could stop this time. Satoru smirked at your soft spot and started to lick at your soft spot then continued to suck and bite at it, your eyes widened like a deer in headlights and you bit your lips, preventing yourself from moaning again.

When he was finally satisfied with what he had done, he reached for the hem of your dress, his cold fingers grazed your skin and he took it off and took in the sight of you.

“My pretty baby.”, he smiled at you, you looked away in embarrassment, “Aww, don’t be like this, look at me, sugar.”, he reached for your face and forced you to look at him, “This is only the beginning after all.”

It didn’t seem like he was actually waiting for a response from you because before you knew it, he was back down at your collarbone, his teeth slightly grazing against your skin, sending another shot right down to your core and your eyes closed in ecstasy, you felt so good right now. The only thing in your mind were his lips and wherever they could land next. His sloppy kisses start to trail down to your chest, his large hands following in and cupping them around the bra, before he continues he gestured for you to take it off, you immediately listened and threw it across the room, not caring where it would land.

He gently grabbed your left breast with his left hand, his right hand meeting the curve of your ass and giving it a light squeeze as well as he leaned forward to kiss you, you moan into his lips, your mind only screaming at him to touch you, a chant that has grown and grown, you don’t think you could ever have enough of this, of him.

His hand roamed around from your ass to your thighs until it reached the hem of your panties, he stopped kissing you and looked down at you.

“You okay with this, love?”

You nodded eagerly in response, not trusting your voice to speak normally.

“Words, love.”, he smiled at you and your neediness, he knew you were almost begging for him to touch you but he wanted to hear it from your pretty little lips.

“Yes.”, you huff, impatiently waiting for his fingers to meet your most sensitive area.

He hums: “Yes, what?”

You were going to bite his head off: “Please.. touch me, ‘Toru.”, you mumble, suddenly embarrassed at just how needy you were right now.

A small chuckle leaves him: “Good girl.”, and doesn't wait any further, finally giving you what you need, he touches you between your legs, your wetness already having soaked your panties and he hums in approval. “All for me, huh.”, he grinned while you gasped at his touch, your pussy pushed against him in response, craving the friction, the release, anything really.

He lightly rubbed your clit, watching for your reaction, those doe eyes of yours looking at him covered in pure lust, he didn’t wait any longer and took off your panties, taking in the sight of your wetness.

The cold breeze hit you and you instinctively tried to close your legs.

“Nuh-uh, don’t even think about it.”, he growled and his hands wrapped tightly around your thighs preventing them from closing them, not waiting any longer he dove in and started to eat you out.

At the first touch of his wet tongue against your clit you let out a big a gasp, your head fell back and chest rose in surprise, your senses were on the edge, so consumed by him and you closed your eyes in pleasure, your fingers clenched into the sheets and you wrapped your legs around his head, not caring anymore about any shame whatsoever only seeking the pleasure he gave you right now.

His tongue sloppily devoured you, his left arm pressed down on your lower stomach preventing you from moving and you’re left at his mercy when he inserted a finger inside of you, you groaned at the foreign but pleasing feeling.

When he started to move his long finger curled up lightly inside of you and your eyes rolled back almost immediately, feeling so full with just one finger, you had to wonder, just how would you be able to take his dick.

“More. Toru, please.”, you mustered up to say in your drunken haze, “I’m so close.”, you moaned at the tension building up in your core, ready to explode and he chuckled against your clit, making you almost cum undone.

He lifted his head up lightly, you could see his lips glistening from the wetness in your folds and you almost groaned at the sight, turning you on even more.

“Don’t cum, until I say so.”, he looked at you sternly, “I’m nowhere near done with you.”

You rolled your eyes at his controlling behavior, not being able to handle not cuming and groaned, “I can’t control it.”

He flicked your clit lightly and you gasp, flinching back a little at the slight cinch of pain, “Cum, if you can handle the consequences.”

You groaned, wondering what you got yourself into, you bit your lips and prayed for mercy, he’d wreck you and you can’t say you’d be completely against it, the idea of punishment exciting you even more.

“Are we clear?”, he asked, checking if you’d actually be okay with that.

You nod in response: “Now touch me.”, you whined, your pussy felt too empty right now.

He nodded, “good.”, and dove right back in, this time adding a second finger, curling them up while simultaneously sucking at your clit like a starved man, you were a moaning mess at the sensations, his long fingers filling you up so much in a way your fingers could never.

You were close to cumming, not caring about his earlier warning you didn’t even try to hold back but Satoru sensed it and took out his fingers before you could actually cum, you whine at him, feeling deprived and considered hitting him in annoyance, especially when you saw the glimpse of amusement in his eyes, he treated you like a cat playing with a mouse, nothing but a mere toy.

“Satoru.”, you moan, “please, I wanna cum.”

“You can do it, darling.”, he smiled at you and kissed you, his lips covered in your fluids they tasted slightly salty but not unpleasant, his hard and clothed dick rubbed against your vagina, “see how hard you made me? Now be a darling and don’t disappoint me, hmm.”, he hums.

You groaned into his lips, the sight of his hard dick made you feel so good, you felt like you’d be able to do anything for him.

“Mhm.”, you hum, so drunk on pleasure you didn’t want to speak proper sentences.

“Good.”, he smiled proudly, his hand went back down and he started to finger you again while he kept kissing you, his pace started to fasten with each second passing and unable to handle it you grip his back, your nails clawing into him the fast pace almost making you see stars.

He started to nibble around your neck, leaving bute marks and hickeys everywhere and when he finally reached another sensitive spot on your collarbone biting down on it, you couldn’t stop yourself anymore, your eyes rolled back, you felt dizzy and light headed, “I’m cumming.”, you manage to gasp out, your toes curled and your breath grew heavy forgetting everything around you, Satoru kept fingering you during your high taking in the sight of the mess you had become.

When you finally rode off your high, at least an ounce of sense coming back to you, Satoru groaned at you: “You’re so hot, when you cum, baby, you did so good.”, he praised you and took his fingers out of your pussy and licked his index finger, you flushed at the sight, “you taste even better.”, he hummed and pulled his middle finger in front your mouth, “Open up, baby.”, he demanded, you flushed even more in embarrassment but were still too light headed to protest so you obey him and open your mouth. “Now suck, love.”, and you wrapped your mouth around his finger, tasting yourself on it, sucking on it, while looking up at him, as if it were his dick you were sucking off right now you licked it all clean off your cum.

When it was all clean you let go of his finger, sat up and looked at him, “I also want to make you feel good.”, you reached for the hook of his pants.

“Are you sure, love?”, he asks.

You nod, “Mhm, wanna suck you off.”, you smile and look at him innocently.

His eyes darkened and he smirked: “Well I won’t stop you in that case.”, he stood up and you crawled towards the edge of the bed, feeling excited again, at the idea of sucking him off, you unzip his pants and help him take them off, the sheer size of his dick peeping through his boxer and you could see a drip of precum, you gulped - how would you be able to take him fully?

“Nervous?”, he chuckled at you in amusement.

“No.”, you huffed, “I was just surprised.”, you hide away your inner doubt, you’d do what you can to please him.

“Mhm.”, he hummed and you got off the bed and kneel down in front of him.

You hands reached for his dick inside of his boxers your fingers traced down his length and you heard him suck in a deep breath, your hands stroke up to his tip, teasing him and you could feel, that it took every ounce of self-restraint inside Satoru not to just jump you and take you - this made you feel powerful, confident.

With the new surge of confidence you massaged his dick lightly through his boxers and you looked up at Satoru, teasing him, your tongue glided up his dick through the boxers leaving a big wet trail on them and Satoru hissed and grabbed you by your hair, “Come on, love, take them off.”

In obeyance you nodded and took them off his length slapping into your face and you gulp - he really was big, you wouldn’t be able to fit in his entire length.

Hesitating was pointless really, so you convince yourself to be a big girl and return the pleasure he had given you, taking his cock you wrap your lips around his tip and swirled your tongue around it, sucking it lightly like a lollipop, due to his precum he tasted a little salty and you didn’t want to let him go without letting him cum inside your mouth tonight.

“Fuck, y/n.”, Satoru grunted, holding back from pushing his length immediately right down your throat and fucking the daylights out of your mouth, he grabbed your hair tighter in a weak attempt to hold onto his sanity.

“Hmm.”, you hummed against his tip, you could see the goosebumps appear on his skin at the sensation.

“You’re driving me crazy.”, he hissed as you finally went in deeper now sucking him off even more, you barely had a third of him in your mouth and you already were full.

Bopping your head on his dick you slowly take more and more of him, enjoying that Satoru is letting you be in control for now and you planned to tease him just as much as he teased you.

“Sucking me off so well, you’re such a good girl, darling.”, Satoru praised you, going straight into your core and you let go off his dick.

A little breathless you said: “Just for you.”, and looked up at him innocently, this would definitely get him going even more.

He smiled in approval: “Such a darling.”, the grasp on your hair tightened while he forced you to keep looking at him, he pressed his cock against your lips again and you opened up like a good little slut.

Now he was in control again, starting out slowly he forced his dick deeper and deeper down your throat until your gag reflex kicked in and he pulled out, fastening the pace, you let him fuck your mouth, grabbing his thighs for some steadiness.

You felt so used but it felt so right at the same time, right now you weren’t more than just a hole to him but the grunts and moans leaving his mouth felt like little praises towards you.

Saliva was starting to run down your mouth and he kept hitting your gag reflex so much tears started to come out.

“You’re so pretty when you cry, baby.”, the sight of you on your knees, crying while taking him without a single complaint was enough to edge him on, he was reaching his high point, making him fuck your mouth even rougher and faster.

You kept gagging on his length, the sheer speed of him not letting you form any coherent thoughts, the only thing your mind could focus on was the way his balls slapped against your face and the iron grip he had on you.

“Fuck, baby.”, he groans thrusting and thrusting inside of you, his eyes closed he threw back his head, “Hiyori, I’m gonna cum.”

It’s as if cold water was thrown against your entire body and you just woke up from a terrible nightmare, the realization of what was going on through his head hitting you hard, like a wrecking ball - destroying any resemblance of happiness, only leaving behind the debris of bitterness, sadness and anger. Anger at him, at yourself, for being so stupid and letting yourself be used as a mere rebound you tried to push him off - to no avail - he was in too much of a bliss hidden behind a fantasy you weren’t a part of to pay attention to you.

He finally came.

And you shattered, the salty taste of his cum down your throat scarring you deeper than any blade, any bomb could ever do

[asherraccoon]

Dysphoric- Radioapple- Hurt/comfort, fluff, bit of angst- Trans Lucifer AU, Human AU, College AU

(Monthly period oneshot!!) (Love projecting onto canonically male characters as a trans guy 😋)

(Srsly tho, I get so fucking dysphoric on my periods it sucks 😭)

Lucifer curled up in a ball on his bed. He was in a lot of pain. Right now his cramps were absolutely killing him and making him wish he was dead. He hated his body. It wasn't helping that he had slept in his binder and his chest was hurting. He was too dysphoric right now to take it off, though. He heard the dorm door open and then footsteps coming towards his room. 

Alastor entered the room. “Hey,” he said. 

“Mmh,” Lucifer hummed to acknowledge Alastor. 

Alastor set down his backpack by his bed on the other side of the room. He looked over at Lucifer. “Are you ok?” He asked, noticing Lucifer's pained expression and body language. 

“No,” Lucifer mumbled. “Hurts…” his voice was starting to tremble. 

Then Alastor realized the situation. “Oh…” he walked over and crouched by Lucifer's bed. “Is it..?” 

Lucifer nodded. 

Alastor gently brushed Lucifer's hair out of his face with his hand. “Are you wearing your binder?” He asked. 

Lucifer looked away. “No…” he lied. 

“Luce,” Alastor sighed. 

“I don't wanna take it off,” Lucifer mumbled. 

“I know, love, but it's only making the pain worse,” Alastor said softly. “You're also not supposed to be wearing it while you sleep,” 

Lucifer whined. 

“Are you wearing boxers or briefs right now?” Alastor asked. 

“Briefs,” Lucifer responded honestly. 

“Good. Pad?” 

Lucifer nodded. “Yeah,” 

“Good boy,” Alastor smiled softly and ran his hand through Lucifer's hair. 

Lucifer blushed lightly. “Do I have to take my binder off?” He asked. 

“Yes,” Alastor said. “I know you hate how you look without it, but it's important,” Alastor said. “I'll let you borrow one of my shirts so your chest is easier to hide, alright?” 

“Okay…” Lucifer mumbled. He slowly sat up and pulled his shirt off so he could remove his binder. 

Alastor went into his closet to grab a shirt for Lucifer to borrow. He found one that was softer and comfier than his other shirts and went over to Lucifer.

Lucifer held his shirt over his chest and had his eyes closed. He really really hated his chest. He looked like he wanted to cry. 

“Hey,” Alastor sat down next to him and offered the shirt to him. It hurt to see Lucifer so upset and distressed. 

Lucifer took the shirt from Alastor. “Thanks…” 

Alastor turned away so Lucifer could put it on. 

Lucifer closed his eyes again and dropped the shirt he was holding to his chest. He quickly put Alastor's shirt on and let out a breath. “You can look now,” he hugged his knees. 

Alastor turned towards Lucifer again. He took Lucifer's discarded shirt and binder. “I'm going to put these in the wash, alright? Be right back,” 

Lucifer nodded and watched Alastor leave. He lay down on his side and curled up in a ball again. He could feel the fat on his chest and he absolutely despised it. He was also having extreme pain in his abdomen. He started to cry. 

Alastor came back to his partner crying. “Hey, what's going on?” Alastor asked softly, crouching by Lucifer again and cupping his cheek. He gently wiped away Lucifer's tears with his thumb. 

“Hate this…” he whispered. 

“I know, baby, it sucks,” Alastor gazed at Lucifer sympathetically. He gently kissed Lucifer's forehead. “Can I get you anything? Are you hungry at all?” 

Lucifer shook his head. “Not hungry,” 

“I still want you to eat. How about just some chocolate and crackers, yeah?” Alastor offered. 

“Okay,” Lucifer mumbled. 

“Want me to heat up one of your plushies, too?” Alastor asked. 

“Yes please,” Lucifer nodded. 

“Which one? Deer or Fred?” Alastor asked. 

Lucifer had two weighted, heatable plushies. A duck named Fred, which he had since he was 15, and a deer named Deer, a gift from Alastor. He thought about it for a minute. “Deer, please,” 

Alastor nodded. He softly kissed Lucifer's forehead again. “Of course, my prince,” 

Lucifer's heart fluttered at the pet name. He loved being called that by Alastor. But he loved most of the compliments and nicknames Alastor gave him. 

Alastor picked up the deer plush from Lucifer's bed and went to the dorm's kitchen. 

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

Lucifer took Deer from Alastor's hands when offered. He hugged it tightly to his abdomen.

Alastor placed a bag of chocolates, crackers, and a cup of tea on the nightstand next to Lucifer's bed. 

“Al?” Lucifer mumbled. 

“Yes, my darling?” Alastor replied. 

“Can we please cuddle?” Lucifer asked, his voice breaking a little. 

Alastor's heart broke. Lucifer was desperate for comfort. Who was he to deny him that? “Of course, my sweet boy,” Alastor said. He got in bed next to Lucifer and then pulled him close. 

Lucifer leaned into Alastor. His back against Alastor's chest and his head under his chin, basically in his lap. He held Deer on his cramps. “I wish I was a boy,” Lucifer said quietly. 

“Baby, you are a boy,” Alastor said gently. 

“I don't feel like one,” Lucifer said, starting to cry again. 

“My handsome boy,” Alastor lightly squeezed Lucifer and kissed his head. “You'll always be a boy no matter what,” he said reassuringly. “I know your body feels wrong and you hate that, but your anatomy doesn't make you any less of a man,” 

Lucifer wiped his eyes. “I wish I was like you,” Lucifer whispered. 

Alastor squeezed Lucifer tightly. “Darling,” he said quietly. He hated when his boyfriend got so dysphoric like this. He loosened his hug. He cupped Lucifer's face and tilted it up. He placed soft kisses across Lucifer's face. His nose, cheeks, forehead, and then his lips. “You will always be valid, Lucifer,” Alastor said to him. “I will always love and and support you no matter what,” 

Lucifer sniffled and wiped his eyes. “I just wanna be a normal guy… I don't wanna be trans…” he sobbed. “I-I'm s-sorry…” he apologized. 

Alastor hugged Lucifer tight, his face resting in Lucifer's blonde hair. “My sweet, beautiful, handsome prince…” Alastor mumbled. “You know you are a real boy, right?” 

Lucifer let out a small sob. He didn't answer. 

“Love,” Alastor gently rubbed his thumbs over Lucifer's cheeks. “It hurts to see you like this, my love…” 

Lucifer fidgeted with the antlers on his plushie. He sniffled. 

Alastor took a chocolate out of the bag on the nightstand. “Here,” he offered it to Lucifer. “It'll help you feel better,” 

Lucifer took the chocolate and took the wrapping off. He put it in his mouth and chewed it slowly. 

Alastor took the wrapper from him and put it on the stand. He put his hands on Lucifer's hips and gently massaged the area his cramps were at. 

Lucifer let out a soft moan at the sudden rubbing, not expecting it. He sighed quietly and leaned into Alastor. All of Alastor's soft affections and love was making him feel a bit better. “You really think I'm handsome?” He asked. 

“Very,” Alastor said, smiling at Lucifer. “The handsomest boy ever,” he kissed Lucifer's head. “Never forget that, my prince,” 

Lucifer looked up at Alastor lovingly. “You make me feel safe,” he said quietly. 

Alastor's eyes softened. “I'm glad,” he hugged Lucifer tightly. 

“Al?” 

“Hm?”

“Do you think I'm ever gonna be able to get surgery?” Lucifer asked. 

“I do,” Alastor kissed Lucifer's forehead. “I'm going to help you pay for it,” he said. 

Lucifer's eyes widened. “What? You're serious?” 

Alastor nodded. 

“What!? No! Alastor I can't ask you to-” 

Alastor shut him up with a kiss. “Calm down, my sweet prince. I'm going to help you because I want to. You mean the world to me. I want you to feel comfortable in your body. And if that means helping you get surgery, then I'm more than happy to do so,” 

Lucifer started to cry again. “I-I don't deserve you…” he whispered. 

“Aww, baby,” Alastor hugged Lucifer close. 

Lucifer turned to cry into Alastor's shoulder and hugged him back. “I love y-you…” 

“I love you too, my handsome boy,” 

(Here's your guys' break from angst, stop complaining/j)

(BTW this is based on this thingy I found and thought was rlly cute :3)

[pedroshotwifey]

Ok, random idea for drabble:

Overprotective girldad! Frankie

He and the guys get together to size up/intimidate the guy coming by to pick up his daughter for a date. 😅

Okay I'm really kind of loving this idea 🤣

Think I had way too much fun with it!

W/C: 660

Overprotective girldad!Frankie (G)

They could be doing anything right now. Bowling, flying, fishing, hiking, shooting pool, drinking—well, you get the idea. They could be doing anything on this cool Friday night, but the former Delta Team boys are sitting around the island in Frankie’s cramped kitchen, waiting for his daughter’s date to show up. 

“Frankie,” Benny speaks up for the group. “You have got to give her some slack, dude.” 

The glare Frankie sends the younger man’s way makes the rest of the guys glad Benny said it first. Benny—being Benny—doesn’t get the hint. 

“I mean, c’mon, she’s nineteen.” He tosses another handful of peanuts into his mouth, continuing his risky  and unwanted opinion with a mouth full of food. “And a grown adult.” 

For the sake of his good friend, Frankie pretends not to hear and goes back to scoping out his front lawn through the living room window. He peers out the temporary crack he’s made in the blinds for another couple of minutes, and then suddenly jumps away. 

“Little shit’s finally here,” Frankie grumbles as he walks past the group, glancing at his watch. “Minute and a half late.” He marches to the front door. 

Knowing that’s their queue to follow, the men eye each other before sliding off the barstools and gathering around their paranoid friend. It would be comical to see Frankie so worked up over this kid if he weren’t so serious about it. He’s absolutely convinced that there is no boy out there good enough for his little girl, and there is not a breathing soul on this earth that could change his mind. 

So they huddle up in their most intimidating stance, Santi to the left of Frankie, Benny to the right, and Will behind and between Frankie and Ben. If for no other reason than to make sure Frankie doesn’t give off “Little Man Syndrome” energy all by himself, they puff their chests, stand tall, and put on stern faces. 

The poor kid doesn’t even get to knock before Frankie pulls the door open. One glance at the guys, and he looks about ready to piss his pants—which really only proves Frankie’s point. 

“M-Mr. Morales?” The kid squeaks, doing his damndest to only focus on Frankie, and holds his hand out to shake. “I’m Tyler, here to pick your daughter up for—” he stutters when Frankie raises a brow— “for our date.” 

Frankie stares for a second, and the kid—Tyler—just about breaks down. 

“I-I mean, not our date, but y-your daughter’s. O-obviously. And mine—me and your daughter, our date.” 

Santi glances at Will, who is already side-eyeing Santi. That look conveys exactly what they’re both thinking: someone should really put this guy out of his misery. Luckily, Charlotte appears at the top of the stairs at that exact moment. 

“Oh my god, Dad!” She bursts out. “Stop making Tyler feel weird!” 

And it’s like a switch is flipped in Frankie. He turns around, smile bright on his face for his daughter. None of the guys are phased—this is how these things usually go. 

“Of course I’m not, sweetheart! Tyler and I actually just finished up a great conversation.” He turns back to the boy, still cheery. “Isn’t that right, sport?” 

Tyler, who looks like he should probably drink some water, quickly nods. “Yes, absolutely,” he agrees. 

Charlotte scoffs, not totally buying it, and quickly hurries the rest of the way downstairs. Before she reaches the torture circle at the front doorway, Frankie smiles one last time at Tyler. 

“Hurt her, and see what happens,” he says, just loudly enough for the kid to hear, and in a tone that would sound joking to anybody else. 

A hug for his daughter and a (possibly too aggressive) pat on the shoulder for Tyler later, the kids are headed down the driveway, one a tad more stiff than the other. 

“Be back by nine,” Frankie calls after them. 

Will glances at the clock and sighs. It’s 8:12pm. 

[ghoulysaphomet]

AU where i knock up jay cus he deserves it

Just had aus like this in my head for a while. I haven't really seen any pregnancy fics where it's jay who's the carrier. maybe it's the breeding kink in me but someone fill that man up ok. SO....... here's an idea. (well. one of many, i assure you.) Jason hadn't meant to get caught, but has anyone, ever? The magician, or whatever she was, was just happy to have caught someone who'd been marked by death (alright, lady, he ain't the only one) and with such good genetics. She was gearing up for a spell. Or a curse, rather. He was going to be a host for some parasite, and she was going to devour it, use the powers of an entity born from someone touched by death itself. He didn't know what she was doing precisely, didn't speak whatever square-sounding language she was usin' (Although, some words sounded familiar, so maybe something related to german?), but she did remember to take time out of her day to tell him, oh-so-gently, how no one was going to notice him being gone. It made her laugh in delight to know he already knew that. So it came as a surprise, to both of them, when Dick-as-Nightwing and Tim-as-Red Robin crashed the party. Until they seemed just as surprised at seeing him there, then she laughed, hard, bending over and telling him with glee; "See? They really didn't notice you'd vanished min ven" His appearance caught them off guard enough that she'd managed to trap them. Tauntingly, she would whisper in their ears. She looked delighted, even, when she reached into their chest cavities and pulled out something small and glowing. She outright giggled when she forced that into his stomach, feeling as if her hand was digging through his insides, reaching down down down planting something deep inside of him. He screamed, trashed in his bounds, but it seemed like nothing mattered. And then, Dick hit her over the head. Apparently Jason getting something forced inside of him was a pretty good distraction, go figure. He didn't stay around to chit-chat. He ignored Tim's questions, he ignored Dick's stare and didn't watch Tim as the man gathered up all of the magicians spellwork and books and whatever else she'd been holding. No, he already felt sick to his stomach, wrong footed and different, even though he didn't know why. So he left. --- Dick & Tim were freaking out. According to the spellwork, the woman's plan had been to create a child using a host's body. The host had to be someone touched by death, sex didn't matter but it was easier if the person had a uterus (which, of course, Jason did). All that was needed was pieces of soul, could be several even; the more pieces the stronger the spell. Then she would eat the created newborn, consuming it's soul and gathering immense power. They'd foiled her plan, but only partially. Because both Tim and Dick had been there, had had pieces of themselves removed and Jason- Jason was pregnant with their child (which, could their family get more fucked up?) and oh, yeah, needed their proximity to live. Since he was now cultivating a child created from the rawest genetic material possible, literal soul, he was going to, according to the spell, crave their touch and physically deteriorate otherwise. Which shouldn't be too difficult, right? It's not like they've never touched one another before. There was just one problem. Jason was gone.

[lostsyren]

ᯓ★ perfect a gold-digger!sofia concept

{summary: what if sofia’s primary motive was to live the kook life? and what if rafe was her ticket to that dream?}

{a/n: it was fun to characterise sofia in a different way– i personally don’t think she’s a gold digger, so i added a bit of a softer spin to the concept! let me know what you think and what else you’d like to see from her or rafe’s characters!}

˙⋆✮⋆˙⋆✮⋆˙⋆✮⋆˙⋆✮⋆˙⋆✮⋆˙ ˙⋆✮⋆˙⋆✮⋆˙⋆✮⋆˙⋆✮⋆˙⋆✮⋆˙ ˙⋆✮⋆˙⋆✮⋆˙⋆✮⋆˙

𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚 He was perfect. Massive house, flashy car, shiny watch– Rafe Cameron, the kook king of the Outer Banks.

Sofia initially admired from afar, it wasn’t hard to after all– Rafe was at the country club almost every day and being the club bartender meant she had front row seats to him. The way all eyes gravitated to his person everytime he entered a room, the hundred dollar bills he’d pull out as tips, the way everyone wanted to be his friend.

Sofia wanted that. Desperately. She’d moved from Mexico to the OBX a few months ago, with barely any money; the money she did have, she used to make a down payment of the small house she’d rented. After that, Sofia quickly learnt the lingo of locals. Kook, Pogue. The Cut, Figure 8. 𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚

She was a Pogue and her house was on The Cut.

And the golden, glittering people at the club were Kooks and the sprawling white edifices were all on Figure 8.

Sofia burned with bitterness everytime one of those rich assholes bossed her around at work–

Two beers asap

Are you deaf? I said on the rocks

I’d like my bill today lady

But Rafe was different. He was…nice. He learnt her name– Miss Sofia he’d call her– and he’d always leave a generous tip. It just made Sofia more resolute– she wouldn’t stay a Pogue any longer.

“You going to Rafe’s party tomorrow?” She overheard a group of kook guys chatter at the bar. Her shift was nearly over, the sky dark already, and her body exhausted. But she perked up on hearing this.

“The one over at Tannyhill? Yeah I’m down.”

That night she was leaving work, trying to figure out how she’d get into that party as she headed to her car. But then it was like fate had thrust her towards the answer. There approaching her, way down the parking lot, was no other than Rafe Cameron.

Her heart soared in her chest. This was her chance.

They were moments away from crossing each other, Rafe locking eyes with her, throwing her a small half-smile.

Do it, she screamed at herself.

“Hi,” she greeted with a sweet smile.

“Hey,” he responded. Sofia could tell he was caught off guard but he still remained polite. Aside from when he ordered drinks, the two never talked. This was new territory for the both of them.

“I didn’t see you at the club today?”

“Yeah– I uh had some business to sort out.” Rafe stopped, taking the moment to talk with her.

She nodded enthusiastically, shining her big, bright eyes at him.

“You missed me huh?” He said with a smirk.

She was in.

“Of course, you’re my favourite customer.”

She watched him as he subtly eyed her.

“Well I guess I’ll see you then, bye Rafe.” She turned to walk to her car, her breath caught in her chest.

“Wait, wait. I’m having a party tomorrow at my house.”

She slowly turned around to face him, feigning unawareness, “oh…ok.”

“You should come by– if you’re free that is.”

“Yeah that’d be cool. What’s your address?”

Rafe raised his eyebrow as if he didn’t understand the questions, “Tannyhill?”

Sofia shook her head, to say she still didn’t know.

“Shit sorry, I keep forgetting that you’re not from here. Just give me your number and I’ll text it to you.”

And that’s how Sofia managed to be the girl on Rafe Cameron’s arm. It wasn’t hard to like him– he was charming, funny, not to mention handsome. She thought it’d be harder to get into his bed, after all she was a Pogue, a bartender– she was supposed to be invisible to him. But Rafe was surprisingly down. Desperate even. Like he was trying to distract himself from something.

Sofia’s heart sometimes stirred for the boy. But she reminded herself of what she truly wanted– this. The satin bedsheets, the crystal chandeliers, the ocean view.

She didn’t feel bad, or guilty– both her and Rafe’s ‘relationship’ was transactional. They both took things.

For her it was the fancy dinners he’d take her on and hefty tips he’d slide her at the bar and for him it was…company. Sofia realised Rafe Cameron was actually quite lonely.

So she played the part. It wasn’t hard. There was something vulnerable about Rafe that made her care. But she’d always quash it down knowing how messy feelings would be– she wasn’t loosing out on the lux and glitz of the kook life to something as trivial as heartbreak.

Sofia was currently taking a bath in the claw footed tub in the en-suite of Rafe’s bedroom at Tannyhill. Inhaling softly, eyes closed, she breathed in the lavender scent of the water, her hands skimming the iridescent bubbles on the surface.

It was late and after they’d messed around for a bit, Rafe had run her a bath.

Sofia sighed softly to herself thinking this wouldn’t be possible back home with her single shower with the shit water pressure.

A soft knock on the bathroom door interrupted her clouding thoughts.

“Hmn?” She hummed, blinking open her eyes.

“Can I come in?” Rafe asked, on the other side of the door.

“Yeah.”

He entered, Sofia smiling up at home from the bathtub. He’d gotten changed into some grey sweats and a T-shirt that pulled across his arms. Sofia wouldn’t have minded going for another round.

“What’s up?” She smiled, the water reaching her neck.

“Nothing– just wanted to talk to you about something.”

Her heart dropped into her stomach. Was he ending this? This…situationship?

“Hey, what’s wrong?” She simpered, her eyebrows furrowing in concern.

“That day–” he coughed clearing his throat, “that day on the balcony, after you stayed over, you gave me some advice– do you remember?”

Rafe approached Sofia, sitting on the edge of the bathtub, his body turned to face her. Her eyes trailed down to his fingers, the tips of them skimming the bubbly water.

That day on the balcony– that day he was acting…off. He’d been stressed out, terse. It had worried her.

Sofia nodded slowly, noticing how he avoided eye contact with her. “Yeah, what about it?”

“You really helped me that day…more than you know.” He mumbled.

Sofia lifted her hand out the water, locking her fingers with his, “Rafe– is everything ok?” She was seriously beginning to worry now, the feeling of care, that warm sticky emotion, worming its way inside her heart. When she felt like that she’d forget what this was– she’d forget how Rafe saw her as a fuck buddy, and she’d forget how she saw him as a gold mine. Instead she only saw him and how she wanted to help him feel better.

“Everything is fine. I uh just wanted to say thank you for that.”

She gave him a confused, lopsided smile, “you’re welcome?”

“Here I got something for you.” He let go of her hand, pulling out a small black box from his pocket, and giving it to her to open.

Sofia glanced at the box, then back up at him. He had a stupid smirk plastered across his face, the abashed look from before already faded.

“Rafe– you didn’t have to.” She said, internally thrumming with delight. Her fingers slowly opened the gift, revealing a thread of scintillating diamonds resting on black velvet, like stars in the night sky.

“Dios mio,” she breathed. It was beautiful.

“Here let me put it on you.”

“No don’t– I’m in the bath, I don’t want to ruin it.”

Rafe chuckled lowly, “Sof, they’re diamonds– they don’t get ruined.”

She didn’t even know what to respond to that, so she just grinned widely, letting out an excited laugh.

Rafe took out the spool of sparkles, standing up to walk behind her. He knelt down low, bringing the necklace onto her décolleté, Sofia jolting slightly at how cold it felt. She looked down to see the delicate metal rest prettily on her skin, the water lapping up to graze the diamonds.

“It’s so beautiful, thank you Rafe.” She gushed, turning her neck to face him.

“Don’t mention it,” he whispered into her ear, planting a kiss on her temple, peppering more kissed until he reached her lips. Sofia gasped against his mouth, savouring the sensation of the cold diamonds and his hot fingers trailing her neck.

Her broke the kiss, his eyes roving down her face to her chest, “I’ll let you finish your bath.” Rafe stood up, leaving the room.

Sofia felt conflicted. A diamond necklace? For a piece of advice? It felt like an unfair trade. But she quickly got over it when she saw the way they sparkled under the bathroom lights.

This was the life she wanted. And she would bask in it.

“Hurry up alright? I wanna see the necklace on you up close.” Rafe called from the room.

Sofia laughed, “gonna take my time now!” She called back, sinking into the water, closing her eyes once again.

Perfect. This was perfect.

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚ ˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚ ˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚ ˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚ ˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

[basslinegrave]

pin-up

b&w originals

[calmlb]

can we as a society please stop calling Dazai the “demon prodigy” like it’s canon??? IM BEGGING

his canon nickname is so underused too… i mean c’mon, the “black wraith of the Port Mafia??” idk if i’ve ever even seen it used in a fic 😭

[my-darling-boy]

It’s horrible how my design course has killed my enjoyment in creativity because all they want is finished pieces founded in nothing but a spontaneous mark just to hang at some concrete art gallery or to sell to some “join our revolution” comfy business-casual company with a prison cell wellness room. I’m not saying that it’s “not art” —cos that’s a different post altogether— it’s that the ethos behind this particular formula for art education is ruining the way we think about creation.

Design courses (and other art courses I’ve heard?) are no longer teaching artists or designers techniques, drawing skills, art fundamentals and allowing them to find their own voice so much as they are only instructing how to tic boxes alongside pushing corporate and classist motivated style/methodology bias aimed at producing workers, not creatives, not to mention providing Adobe with endless funds for their despicable scam programs. That’s it. My creativity is only a means to money for them, and if they can extract the process of creation from me without the complex creative intimacy involved in it, they know they can churn out products and services faster and it’s concerning some lecturers don’t seem to be aware this is what they’re teaching? Like they’re buying into industry propaganda?

And the whole time it’s sold to you like you can be some trailblazer when the irony is they’re usually either prepping you for cubicle work or for some misguided high horse creative team pumping out design solutions completely divorced from the reality. I’m tired of all the talks about sustainability in a vacuum with no conversation about nuanced designs that factor in broader social and economic perspectives which lack thereof is leading to sustainable products being sold at a price only able to be afforded by wealthier people who are causing said economic and social problems and contributing to the rapid obsoletion of trades and crafts. Lecturers and speakers don’t seem to think that’s any of our concern and should just worry about producing the design for the hypothetical Bluetooth powered organic hairbrush or using the twigs to make the pattern for the £85 fabric square.

Like? Can I please make something that actually resonates with people outside the circle jerk of egotistical creatives and corporations? Something charming and maybe idk something that doesn’t make me want to tear my miserable portfolio in half with my teeth? And they’re like Mm nope sorry it has to be an extreme close up of a mark making abstract leaf you made from a recycled trash bag inspired by a stalled urban space which we will force you to price at £100 during your exhibition 5 people will bother to attend and no you’re not allowed any other style cos this isn’t the Dark Ages :///

I think the worst thing my lecturer ever said was, while looking around the room of our class work reduced down to a series of cubes and splatters and abstract typography, “Wow, I love how you can’t tell what anyone’s [main artist discipline] is!” Like awww conformity at the expense of a person’s individuality to make pieces for airport hallways and rich people’s living rooms wow so cool heehee like girl that’s not good?? Why on Earth are you complimenting us for that? Like I get it, I thought this course would boost skillset as an illustrator (as we were told), turns out the degree is really not for me, fair enough to anyone thinking that, but forcing students to produce modern abstract art because you think it’s the ONLY Logical Pathway for the future of design, judging them intensely for doing a different style, and thinking producing financially inaccessible art + design is the solution to things like climate change and community severance is an objectively bad take.

[stuckinapril]

me stoically navigating my way through drama bc bigger things are ahead and it’s not my fault people are dumb

[barbieaemond]

I’ve rewatched ep3, specifically Rhaenyra and Alicent last scene and I must say, it’s still the stupidest thing I’ve ever seen on tv.

[ovenproofowl]

a lot of people have said it, but I’m throwing in my two cents just to get it off my chest.

Picard season 3 was . Bad . For a LOT of reasons . It felt like - as many before me have expressed - a self-insert fanfic with the dullest self-insert in history.

Jack Crusher wasn’t much of a character but he could have had some promise if they hadn’t spent an aggravating amount of time having him decree how different he always felt, you guys. Did you get that part? He’d always felt different. That sort of dialogue might have flown if we were dealing with Picard’s adolescent son, but instead we’re dealing with a 24 year old played by a 35 year old who looks every bit his age. (It was a hard 24 years, we must assume.)

The reason that Jack Crusher didn’t work for me personally, though, wasn’t because of how cliché his character was. I would have let that pass much easier if it wasn’t for the big ol’ elephant in the room. And that is simply that :

JACK CRUSHER WAS NEVER NECESSARY

Jack may have served a purpose to the storyline that was presented if only because he was the sole reason there was a Big Bad to be defeated in the first place. Everyone wanted to kidnap him, he brought the old gang back together just to protect him and then later save him from said Big Bad which was also actually .. him. Everything Was About Jack. But I’m not talking about the main plot. I Really Don’t Want to Talk About the Main Plot. Ever. What I want to talk about is what Jack represented that made him so unnecessary:

He was intended to represent Jean-Luc Picard’s only reason to start living.

Personally, that really, really offended me. Picard didn’t need to have a biological kid to have a purpose. In fact, it’s been established time and time again that he wasn’t ever really dad material. More of a... weirdly intense uncle. For a while, he wasn’t a fan of kids at all. Eventually, though, Picard is seen to warm to the idea of letting children within his general vicinity. This starts in TNG and continues on in season 1 of Picard. The Only Categorically Good Season of this whole. show.

In season 1, we see flashbacks of Jean-Luc’s relationship with a young Elnor, how he would read him stories and have sword fights with him. He was an absent father to an adopted child he hadn’t even realised he’d adopted and yet Elnor still fought for his hopeless cause. In much the same way, Picard meets Dahj and then later, Soji. He feels a kinship with these androids because of their connection to Data. He wants to protect Soji becase he couldn’t protect Dahj and Soji even canonically questions whether she should allow Picard to act as her father figure before she begins to remember where she came from. Both of these dynamics were infinitely more interesting and a lot deeper rooted. Soji and Elnor were both young twenty-somethings without parental guidance but found that guidance through Picard. Soji had her connection to Jurati, too, and Elnor had his with Seven and Raffi and that’s what made the whole group so intriguing to follow. They all had interesting connections to each other that had so many avenues to explore.

Unfortunately, the show decided to more or less write Soji and Elnor out of the story come season 2. Elnor was killed off for the majority of the season and only brought back by Q intervention in the last episode. Soji wasn’t even a part of the story at all. And do you know what’s sad about that? What’s really sad? Season 2 was trying to sell us the exact same message as season 3. That Picard needed a reason to live. But, like, not that reason. Not the reasons he’d already been given in the form of his found family with his Romulan and android adopted children, or even the rest of the La Sirena crew. No no no, we can’t have that, better get rid of them. This time, Laris is the focal point. Picard had been avoiding a romantic relationship with her because of a never before mentioned dark history surrounding his mother’s suicide. Because, sure, at this point, why not? While we’re at it, let’s also kill off Rios in the most slap-in-the-face out of character way possible and fling Jurati at the Borg for good measure just so she won’t be around for season 3. Her character development into the Borg Queen was pretty intriguing, but we’ll totally ignore that they even exist post her departure, just for funsies. Oh, and Soji and Elnor? Best not mention them at all come that third and final season. Otherwise, people might get the crazy notion that Picard already had a reason not to hunker down and die at the vinyard at the tender age of 104.

Season 3 picks up where season 2 leaves off in that Picard is now in that aforementioned romantic relationship with Laris. Except, no he isn’t because he immediately gets an emergency call from his ex and literally never sees or talks to Laris ever again. There wasn’t even a throw-away line or implied reference to her, but by now I’m sure you know the reason for that.

That’s right, folks. Because if we were allowed to remember Laris and what she meant to Picard, then we might just remember that other thing. Say it with me now!!

JACK CRUSHER WAS NEVER NECESSARY!!

In summary, there were so many brilliant options to give Picard for signficant found family dynamics, but the show just wasn’t interested in any of them. Season 3 wanted a Picard who had given it all up, who was ready to die because he’d never had a family to pass on his legacy. They wanted him at his lowest so that we’d all rejoice to see him return to the TNG crew. Don’t get me wrong, I’m a massive TNG fan and I could rave about the fan service and nostalgia porn for hours on end. If season 3 had stood alone as a singular unconnected event, it might even have been passable as a warm hug from old and beloved characters with some fun new spins to their stories along the way, juust so long as you didn’t squint too hard at the actual attempt at plot writing going on in the background.

But the fact of the matter is, Picard season 3 came far too late into the game. Season 1 held the building blocks to something new and interesting. By the end of season 2, it was becoming clear we were never going to see those blocks stand. By season 3, those blocks were just scattered headstones in a graveyard.

They teased us with the potential new show of Captain Seven and her Number One Raffi Musiker and that might have just been okay. . .

. . .If the La Sirena Crew had been allowed to be a part of that future.

In closing: Picard season 3? Too little, too late, mate. 👎🏻

[hold-him-down]

y'all. GUYS. LADIES. FOLKS.

the sunshine court is 100% to our tastes over here on my side of whumblr and i simply CANNOT BELIEVE this woman took every whump trope i love and published a whole ass book with them I can't think of a single chapter that wasn't DIRECTLY TO MY TASTE including, but not limited to (with spoilers under the cut):

being so upset he pukes? twice?

noncon drugging

medical drugging/chemical restraints

noncon

whumpee thinking the caretaker is the new whumper

whumpee thinking everyone is the whumper

self deprication

tears

broken bones

whumpers gettin' THEIRs dammit

exhaustion

waterboarding

scars

isolation

i stg i could go on forever

THE FOUND FAMILY OF IT ALL

THE LEARNING TO BE LOVED OF IT ALL

i can't. i'm gonna give the first three a proper reread (which isn't explicitly necessary to read this but you will be confused to all hell if you go in blind, but you could probably get by), and then read this bad boy again. and again probably, so if you don't see me for the next month you can assume i'm doing this.

[ender--slime]

moot posting weird shit about wanting jojo “cancelled “ for writing bad homestuck stuff. was her getting her full name and address doxxed a few weeks ago not enough? is homestuck that serious to y’all? get OVER ITTTTTT

[even-disco-baby]

YOU — “What was it like when we were partners?”

JEAN VICQUEMARE — He looks at you, taking a long drag from his cigarette. His eyes are hard. “You don’t remember at all?”

CONCEPTUALIZATION [Impossible: Failure] — You try to search through the mire of your mind, but come up with only the ghosts of vague and conflicting feelings— comfort and pain, gratitude and resentment, and above all, fear.

YOU — Fear of what?

CONCEPTUALIZATION — Of being seen. Seen and despised.

EMPATHY — He fears that, too. That one day, he’ll look at you and realize that it was all for nothing.

-1 MORALE

PRECINCT 41 — The night air is pleasantly cool, and even this late, you can hear plenty of signs of life in Jamrock. Dogs barking, laughter in the distance. It only makes your own silence more pronounced.

“I remember we were friends.”

“I remember we hated each other.”

“I remember you cramping my style.”

“I remember being a burden.”

“I don’t. I’m sorry.”

JEAN VICQUEMARE — He sighs. Smoke trails as he shakes his head. “It’s fine.”

DRAMA — It is decidedly *not* fine, sire.

JEAN VICQUEMARE — “You know what? It’s probably better that way. Don’t worry about the past. Your great big life is finally starting.” Every word drips with irony. He takes another puff of the cigarette. “Good for you.”

“You’re right. I won’t worry about it.”

“I swear I’m going to make the most of it. It’ll be different this time. I swear, Jean.”

“You’re such an asshole.”

“You sound sarcastic.”

JEAN VICQUEMARE — “Oh, do I? Sorry, let me try again.” He claps with mock politeness. “Congratulations on the amnesia. You must be thrilled.”

“Ha ha. Real funny.”

“Maybe I am. Fuck off.”

“No. I’m scared. It’s been really hard.”

“I’m sorry, okay? It’s not like I can undo it. I don’t know what you want from me.”

“I’m sorry…”

(Say nothing)

JEAN VICQUEMARE — He lets out another breath, closing his eyes. “…Sorry. Look, just forget it, okay, Harry?” He tosses the butt of his cigarette dispassionately into the bushes and lights another. “Believe me, it’s not worth dredging up.”

DRAMA — What he means to say, sire, is that you don’t want to know how bad things got.

EMPATHY — Even he doesn’t like to reminisce. Not on the bad *or* the good. It would all swallow him up if he wasn’t careful. But he can’t forget, either, so he just carries it. And now he carries it alone.

INLAND EMPIRE — He was fooling himself if he ever thought that to live was to be anything but alone. We are all either leavers or those left behind.

HALF LIGHT — It’s not your fault that he started to look like a leaver. You had to be faster than him. You couldn’t let it happen again. Never again.

VOLITION — Derail this train of thought before it builds momentum. It won’t lead you anywhere helpful.

None of this is helpful. Fuck this. [Leave]

[Espirit de Corps — Formidable 13] Just how bad did things get?

CHECK SUCCESS

ESPIRIT DE CORPS — Apocalyptic. Screaming matches that devolved into agonized wails. Words that neither of you can ever take back. Nights spent talking you off of ledges only for you to turn and shove him toward the edge. Times he told you to go ahead and jump, only to then turn and cling to you in terror of a lifelong haunting. Pitiful attempts to revive the corpse of your friendship. Empty ideals of brotherhood clutched tightly to your chests. His orbit around you, both a curse and a reassurance.

SAVOIR FAIRE — You needed him to think you were cool again.

EMPATHY — He needed you to think he was worth trying for.

INLAND EMPIRE — You both discovered that you were sad, cruel animals, incapable of anything but lashing out at each other and licking your own self-inflicted wounds.

VOLITION — And so you changed, somewhat. You did what you had to do to survive and evolve. There is no use or sense in regretting it.

EMPATHY — But *he* refuses to change. He cannot bring himself to dig his heels back out of the dirt. This precinct will be his coffin. He has already decided.

RHETORIC — A memory stirs. A letter, written to you, but never meant for your eyes. You read it, anyway. He never forgave you. You never forgave him, either.

“Kid,

“I bet you think someday your life will begin. That it’s still out there somehow, a great big life just waiting to start. Well, it isn’t. This is all there is. This job is the only fight we are given. After this, we will be its veterans.

“There is nothing more in that beloved future of yours. We are all done there. Done and gone.”

VOLITION — But there is a future beyond ourselves. There is all of the rest of human history-to-be, and they are at our mercy. Find some mercy in yourself, Harry. You know there’s something beyond this job, this precinct.

No. Jean is right. This is my home, these people my half-brothers. I would be nothing without them. I don’t want to die alone.

No. He’s right. There is no future for me. I’m a dead man walking, and soon I’ll be gone. It doesn’t matter.

No. There is no mercy in me. I’m tired. I hope the world ends. I hope we can all be done.

You’re right. I changed a little. That means that I can keep changing. I can be a kinder animal.

You’re right, but I’m afraid. I don’t remember my life before the RCM. I don’t know what I would be if I left.

Isn’t there any way to change Jean, too? Is there a great big life waiting for him?

VOLITION — I… I don’t know. I’m sorry, Harry. I cannot answer for other people. His future is in his own hands.

PRECINCT 41 — Dogs howl in the distance. What a lonely sound.