#but if their extension of kindness towards him

[tarithenurse]

Feel the stretch

Fandom: Jujutsu Kaizen GYM AU Pairing/starring: PT!Nanami Kento x fem!reader Word count: 1790 Content: Probably incorrect gym exercises, pining, unprofessional conduct, someone doesn’t follow the rules of hygiene, smut. Not betaed. A/N: Got to talk with @maladaptive-ninja-returns and we ended up bonding over the need for proper motivation when at the gym...some of us resorting to different tactics than others but that’s life. Glad to corrupt. Choice of GIF just because we all loved that moment.

Feel the stretch

Your sweat is already running down the back along your spine. Your hands are starting to slip on the grip of the dumbbell, making it hard to do the exercise right and as if on cue, you feel the light tap of Nanami’s finger on your elbow, reminding you to lift properly.

He doesn’t speak much, your personal trainer, but Nanami Kento is still very good at instructing you how to do each exercise. Back straight, arms level, knees slightly bend so as not to overstretch the joints. It’s only your third month with him, but the results have been impressive (unfathomable to yourself).

Right now, as you are nearly through the day’s session, and you couldn’t curse him any more than you already do because he’s increased the weight and your arms are sore already.

There’s a gentle tap to your lower back, reminding you to straighten.

You’re standing with a hand and a knee on the bench, lifting the dumbbell with the free arm as best as you can to get it parallel with your body. Trying not to grunt with each lift.

“Five more,” he says softly.

You aren’t sure you’ll be able to do it. Your arms is shaking, hand slippery with sweat. Up and down. Up and down.

“Three. You can do it.”

And now you have to. It’s not so much encouragement when he tells you that you’ll manage as it’s simply stating a fact because you can’t let him be wrong. He’s never been disappointed in you the few times you have tapped out too soon but...Nanami could make you do anything.

“Good!” His praise makes you grin although it does feel great to have completed the set too.

Allowing you a moment (however brief it is to prevent cooldown), he preps the next exercise for you: the back extension. There’s a machine for that at the gym, but you prefer the bench as it allows you to work your back two ways and who would Nanami be to refuse you more workout? Even at this late hour (you’re practically the last people still at the gym), he wouldn’t want to cut corners and let you escape early.

Not that you’d want to escape, really. Or maybe you do but then it’d only be to go home and think of him some more. In detail. Undressed. You bite back a sigh of yearning.

Getting in position, you lower your upper body down towards the ground and grab hold of the weight plate waiting for you to clutch it to your chest. Up and down.

With closed eyes, you concentrate on the movement but still there’s a tap to your shoulder, indicating you’re coming up crooked.

Adjusting, for a few repetitions it goes well but then the tap is there again.

“Not high enough and not straight,” Nanami curtly explains, walking around you.

Focusing, you try to adjust but you nearly drop the weight when you feel his legs on either side of you, his inner thighs brushing your hips.

“Higher,” he demands and you comply until your shoulders meet his palms and his position suddenly makes sense. Kind of.

Again and again you lift your body to find his hands, almost as if attracted to the heat of them despite your own burning.

But eventually he’s satisfied, stepping away with a brush of your ass that you know is by accident but your mind is going to later pretend was on purpose. Just because you wish it was.

He always evaluates you while you’re doing your cooldown run. Short sentences to warn you of changes to the training regimen next time or information on how to deal with the soreness after the training. This time is no different and it’s with a certain worry that he mentions how you will have to increase the weight on the squats.

“But my ass is already sore!” you complain in horror.

“Your ass is fine,” he answers dryly, apparently not aware of how it sounds.

He helps you stretch. Arms first, and he even takes the time to rub some life into them with his strong fingers. It feels heavenly even if it hurts as his thumb digs into your muscle.

“You’ll feel it here,” he allows his palm to slide down by your shoulder blade to indicate where. “Here too.” This time his hand rests just below your lower back so close to it almost being you ass and you can’t help but hold your breath.

Slowly moving on, he points out and rubs life into sore muscles that will need special special attention.

“Legs,” he orders.

Obediently, you start stretching them, earning his help again to really push you into each position to feel the stretch. He rubs your calves when you complain about them then sits down behind you as you sit with the soles of your feet against each other, stretching the inner thigh. Large hands on your knees push down, making you groan in pleasurable discomfort.

“Ouch,” you moan softly.

Slacking, his hands drift up your thighs, coming to rest near your hips and causing you to still.

“Maybe we should work on your flexibility too,” he hums ever so quietly.

“Yeah,” you breathe.

A breath that’s instantly stolen as his hands glide to your inner thighs where the muscles are pulled taught clearly visible due to the fact that you’d decided to just wear shorts rather than long leggings. Long fingers find the edge of the shorts, tracing the line across your skin and causing prickles to rise in the wake.

“See here?” he changes directions to trace the tendon towards your crotch, “with the proper flexibility training, you’d be able to sit more relaxed than you do now. Get your knees further apart.”

Somehow you doubt you’ll be more relaxed but you aren’t about to argue that. Especially not as his fingers slip under the hem of the clothing, stretching the elastic to accommodate his hand as he reaches deeper. Fingertips brush against the next layer of fabric, swiping along the heat.

But next moment he retracts his hand, causing you to whine softly.

“Then come with me,” he mumbles into your ear.

Of course you follow, not even protesting as he heads into the women’s changing room before you and leads you to the sauna.

There, he leads you into the dimly lit room. It smells of warm cedar and flint, a scent you’ve always loved but now realize will never be the same for you because the man begins to undress you, diligently and without fuss, he peels off your sweaty t-shirt and your shorts only pausing to allow you to toe off your socks (shoes forgotten by the mats). Then he unclasps your sports bra, allowing your breasts the freedom they’ve yearned for and smiling gently at the sight – the first sign of any emotion. And still, he hasn’t kissed you yet, hasn’t laid a stray hand on you. Just methodically undressed while your cunt begins to soak unwarranted.

Once done with you, he simply points to the wooden seat before starting to undress too, unabashed by your eyes taking in every movement he makes, every flex of his muscles. Tall. Broad shoulders that ooze of strength. Narrow hips that you all too easily can imagine would fit perfectly between your thighs. An Adonis Belt that leads the eyes to something not easily ignored: a raging boner.

“Every time...” he says, “you do this to me.” Palming himself, he gives his cocks a few lazy pumps as he walks to stand between your knees. “But today...I can’t wait any longer.”

It’s almost the most you’ve heard him speak. Mouth agape, you look up at the man, nodding fervently to let him know that you are completely and wholly his to do with as he wishes.

“Move up,” he orders.

You scuttle backwards onto the next bench, glad to see he’s following on his knees, hands on your thighs to spread them apart. Hands that travel up to the apex, allowing a large thumb to swipe at your cunt and spread the wetness that’s pooling there. It sticks to his thumb as he pulls it back and looks at it, taking it to his mouth to suckle it off.

Next thing you know, he’s dived headfirst down to lap at your folds. Pointed licks that have your arch your back and wanting to bring your legs together but you don’t. You can’t because his shoulders are so wide they’re pressing them out.

And where his tongue isn’t, his fingers are: scissoring and wriggling and pumping, finding the right spot that has you see double and brings out the heat to your skin better than the gruelling workout or the sauna itself.

“Cum for me,” he mumbles, a man on a mission.

“Not yet!” you gasp, wanting it to last longer because you don’t want it to be over but it’s too good and you shatter around him as he rubs his longer finger over the gummy spot inside. Keening, you grab at nothing to ground you with.

Suddenly it’s like the entire room moves but it’s just Nanami who’s dragged your ass over the edge of the seat, positioning you properly.

He works you onto his cock slowly, steadily, allowing you time to adjust to the stretch before he pulls you further down on him. A low moan starts in the back of your throat rising with each inch until you don’t have any more air and he finally bottoms out with a groan of his own.

You can feel your cunt spasm around him, begging for more even if you yourself aren’t sure you can handle it.

You get it anyways.

Large hands around your waist, he lifts you up and down on his shaft until you’re dizzy and mewling, hands locked around his wrists in an attempt to keep upright in his grip.

Your world shatters again, and you’re only faintly aware of how he curses at the sensation, pulling out as you climax and turning you around to expose you. He takes a second to bite down on your plump ass, the sting a delicious contrast to the waves of bliss. And then he rams back into you. Frantic. One hand on your shoulder and one on your hip to hold you steady while his snaps into you.

“So good,” he grunts.

Drooling, you feel your brain melt as a new high approaches and the oxygen in the room has been used.

This time, he lets you cum on his cock, milking him for all he has before he collapses over you.

“I’ll feel that tomorrow,” you manage after a while, earning a chuckle.

[goblinontour]

Use Our Power For Good

why start your own firm…why not?

warnings: lawyer!alex, smut, oral (m receiving), mutual masturbation (tiny bit), fucking, alex & his cocobolo

word count: 8.3k

You sat at his table, legs crossed, nibbling on a piece of toast as you watched Alex move around the kitchen. He was shirtless, wearing nothing but black boxer briefs and an old pair of grey sweatpants slung low on his hips. 

There was a subtle elegance in how he moved, even when he was doing something as mundane as making eggs. That messy dark hair of his hung loosely over his forehead, framing the sharp lines of his face, the kind that made people stop and stare in courtrooms. He looked different in the mornings. Softer than the man who cross-examined witnesses with a razor-sharp tongue. 

He turned towards you, the smirk already forming on his lips before he even spoke. “You staring at me for a reason, or are you just plotting your next move?”

You took another bite of toast, letting the corner of your mouth lift in response. “Can’t a girl appreciate the view without ulterior motives?”

He set the pan down, eggs forgotten for a moment as he walked toward you, his fingers trailing across the back of your chair before he bent down, pressing a soft kiss to your temple. “Just making sure. Gotta stay sharp.”

The kiss wasn’t hurried or overthought. Just a habitual gesture, like he couldn’t help himself, like staying too far away for too long was never really an option. His lips lingered against your skin for a beat longer than necessary before he straightened and returned to his side of the table, sitting down with his plate of eggs and toast. He always touched you like this, as though you were just an extension of him. It made your chest warm.

You took another sip of coffee, watching him dig into his breakfast. He was quiet again, focused on eating, but his free hand slipped across the table, resting on your thigh under the tablecloth. He didn’t even look up as he did it, just absently drew slow circles with his thumb, a familiar gesture. A reflex.

He was scrolling through his phone, probably checking emails or reading up on the day’s news. You took another bite of your toast, watching him as he absently poked at his eggs. 

“Big case today?” you asked, mostly out of habit.

“Yeah.” he replied, still staring at the screen. “Closing arguments.” He finally glanced up at you, his lips quirking into a faint smile. “Should be a fun one.”

“Is it ever?”

He smirked, that familiar, cocky glint in his eyes. “Not if you’re doing it right.”

You rolled your eyes but smiled back. 

“So…” you said, setting your mug down. “Are you ready for those closing arguments then?”

He nodded, mouth half-full, but his eyes flicked up to meet yours. “Yeah. All prepped. Just gotta go in there and do what I do best.”

“Being an insufferable ass?” you teased.

“Being brilliant.” he corrected, a mischievous grin curling his lips. “It’s why you like me, right?”

You gave him a look, shaking your head with a mock sigh. “I like you despite that, Turner.”

“Right. Of course.” he said, but his eyes never left yours, that sharp, unreadable gleam in them. “Anyway, you’re not exactly a saint yourself. Might even say you’re worse.”

You shrugged. “Only when necessary.”

Breakfast went on like that. Quiet moments, punctuated with the occasional quip. The kind of banter that was so ingrained in your relationship, it felt like breathing. You never really had to explain things to each other, never had to go over the same ground. You just existed in sync, even when the silence stretched between you.

After finishing up, you stood and wandered toward the bathroom, and soon enough, Alex followed. The two of you brushed your teeth together. In sync, like it was second nature. He was to your left, his arm brushing yours every now and then as he mimicked your movements. Spitting, rinsing, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, as if it was part of some unspoken choreography you’d long ago perfected. It was all part of this strange, unpolished intimacy. 

Neither of you said a word. There wasn’t any need. You didn’t even look at each other, but you could feel him there, right next to you, every breath, every subtle shift of his body.

No declarations. No grand gestures. Just being.

When you both finished, he ran his fingers through his hair and turned to leave, heading to the bedroom to get dressed for the day. You followed, watching as he rummaged through his clothes, tossing them carelessly onto the bed. He slipped into his trousers first, the charcoal grey fabric sitting perfectly on his lean frame. He was halfway through buttoning them when his fingers faltered, fumbling with the belt.

He cursed softly under his breath, the faintest flush rising on his cheeks. He wasn’t used to asking for help, in any circumstances really.

“Need a hand?” you asked with a teasing lilt in your voice, crossing the room.

Alex shot you a mock glare. “I’ve got it.”

“Mhm, sure.” you said, reaching for his belt before he could protest further.

You slid the belt through the loops, threading it carefully around his waist. His eyes stayed on you, watching the movement of your hands, and for a brief moment, the air between you shifted, heavier. His fingers brushed your wrist lightly, and you glanced up at him, seeing the way his lips tugged into a small smile.

His grip lingered just enough to send a clear message, his touch unmistakable. His smirk widened, knowing full well what he was doing. He couldn’t be more obvious if he tried.

“You want me to have carpet burn on my knees at work?” you teased, already undoing the button you’d just buttoned and pushing his pants back down with ease.

“You don’t have to wear a skirt.” he replied, the suggestion just as casual as it was loaded.

“Maybe I want to show off my legs.” you retorted, sinking to your knees in front of him, your fingers already tracing the waistband of his briefs. He reached down, brushing your hair back, his thumb grazing the side of your jaw.

“Nah,” he said, voice low, “they don’t need to see your legs.”

“I’ve got beautiful legs.” you countered, your hands deftly working to pull him free from the confines of his briefs. 

“That you do.” he agreed, voice rougher now, desire evident. “But one admirer is enough.”

“Yeah?” you asked, looking up at him, lips grazing his skin.

“I’d say so.” His hand wrapped around his cock, guiding it to your mouth. You licked, tasting him, and his groan sent a thrill down your spine. His fingers threaded through your hair as you took him deeper, his head tilting back with a stifled moan. 

There wasn’t much time, but that never seemed to bother him. You’d had sex the night before, but Alex was insatiable, always wanting more, always needing you. His hips rocked gently toward you as you worked, your mouth warm and eager, and each sound he made was a reminder of how deeply he craved you.

“Just like that.” he breathed, his voice ragged, and you could feel the tension coiling in his body.

His grip on your hair tightened, just enough to keep you where he wanted, guiding your movements as his breathing grew heavier. You moved in sync with him, the rhythm between you both intensifying. Every little moan, every gasp, fueled you, pushing you to keep going, to give him exactly what he needed.

“Fuck.” he muttered, his hips stuttering slightly, and you could tell he was close already. His thighs trembled, muscles tensing beneath your touch as you sped up, your lips and tongue working him over, eager to push him to that edge. “You’re so good...don’t stop.”

His words, though steady at first, soon dissolved into incoherent murmurs, half-formed phrases that trailed off as his pleasure overtook him. His grip in your hair became more insistent. His fingers flexed. Possessive, almost desperate. His chest heaved, and the next groan that escaped him was louder, more guttural. “Gonna-” He couldn’t finish the sentence, the words cut off by the pleasure coursing through him. 

He pushed himself deep, holding you there as his release hit, his body jerking as he came into your mouth. His moans filled the space, deep and raw, and you felt the satisfaction of knowing you’d brought him there, unravelled him like no one else could.

He swore under his breath, the sound escaping between clenched teeth as he held you close, his fingers pressing into the back of your head, keeping you there. “Swallow…” he muttered, his voice strained but commanding. “Yeah…swallow it- fuck-”

You did as he asked, feeling his release warm inside your mouth as his hand gently relaxed its hold on you, his body beginning to soften from the intensity of the moment. Finally, he pulled back, his breathing still uneven, and you took a deep breath, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand as you stood.

His head was still tilted back, eyes closed, a lingering smile on his face as he came down from the high. When he finally opened his eyes, meeting yours, the look he gave you was one of pure satisfaction. “You’re too damn good at that.” he muttered, voice still hoarse with lingering pleasure.

You grinned, standing up and brushing yourself off, giving him a playful smirk. “I know.”

The air between you was thick with the afterglow on his part. You helped him pull up his pants and fastened the belt you’d teasingly started to buckle earlier but ultimately failed. Alex watched you with a blissed-out expression, his usual cool demeanour softened.

“Thanks.” he murmured, a small grin tugging at his lips.

You couldn’t help but smile back, straightening his collar with a quick touch. “Don’t get used to it.” you teased, but the warmth in your voice betrayed the affection that always lingered beneath the surface.

Alex chuckled softly, the sound low and easy, as he leaned back against the desk behind him, still catching his breath. He pulled you close, one arm snaking around your waist as he leaned in, pressing a slow kiss to your lips. When he pulled back, his grin was softer, but still wicked. “Round two later? Pay you back.” he teased.

You raised an eyebrow. “Only if you can handle it.”

His laughter echoed through the room. “We’ll see about that.”

His hand came up, fingers gently adjusting the collar of your shirt in turn. “You know,” he said, his voice quieter now, more serious, “you never get your collar right.”

His touch was deliberate but light, moving on autopilot, as if he was still half-asleep despite other parts of him being very much awake just minutes before.

You arched an eyebrow, your lips quirking into a smirk. “I think I’m capable of managing a collar.”

“Just doing my part.” he shrugged. “Gotta keep you looking sharp too, don’t I?” he said, with just a hint of that teasing tone you both fell into so easily. 

You tilted your head at him. “Maybe I’m just waiting for you to fix it for me every time.”

“That’s probably it.” he murmured, his hands lingering at your collar for a beat too long. His thumb ran across the fabric one more time, smoothing it down before his hands rested on your shoulders. 

As he finished getting ready, you grabbed your blazer and slid it on, reaching for your bag. You could feel his gaze following you across the room. He was fastening his cufflinks now, the polished lawyer reappearing beneath the quiet intimacy of the morning.

“Am I gonna get to see you for lunch today?” he asked, his tone casual but his eyes sharp as they met yours through the mirror.

“Yeah.” you said, not looking away as you smoothed down the front of your blazer. “I’ll make it work.”

“Good.” he said, his voice dipping lower. “Can’t go too long without you.”

He said it like a fact, not a compliment, not even an acknowledgment of your relationship. Just a truth. 

“Wouldn’t want to have to go a whole day without seeing your charming self.” you shot back. 

The smile on his face was disarming, warm, and so utterly Alex. There was something so simple in it.

With one last glance at each other, he grabbed his briefcase and you headed out the door together, slipping back into the roles you played so well. But in these quiet moments, in the space between courtrooms and deadlines, there was something else. Something neither of you were quite ready to define but were already living.

The morning had flown by, and your mind was still buzzing with the details of your case as you sat at your desk, flipping through documents. The office around you was its usual hive of activity. Murmured conversations, the soft hum of printers, the distant clatter of keyboards. You barely noticed the way the time slipped away until your phone buzzed on the desk, cutting through your focus.

Alex’s name lit up the screen.

You answered, leaning back in your chair and rubbing your temple with your free hand. “Hey.”

“Hey.” he replied. You could hear the low hum of the car engine in the background. “I’m in the car, just a few minutes out.”

You glanced at the clock, biting your lip. The familiar pang of guilt settled in your chest. “I don’t have much time.” you said, your words rushing out quicker than you intended. “I’ve got a meeting in twenty.”

There was a pause on the other end, a small silence that felt heavier than it should have, just long enough to feel his frustration seep through the line. You could almost picture him, fingers tapping impatiently against the steering wheel, his brow furrowing in that way it always did when he was frustrated but trying to hold it in. “Yeah, I know.” he muttered, his voice quiet. You heard him shift, a soft exhale of breath escaping him. “The traffic’s a nightmare today. Honestly, how do people drive in this city?” he grumbled, half to himself. “Should’ve just walked at this point.”

You smiled faintly at the thought, but the weight of what came next erased any humour from the moment.

“We need to talk about this,” he said suddenly, his voice dropping an octave, growing more serious, “you and me. This is getting insufferable. You know we should just work together. It makes sense.”

Your heart did that thing it always did when he caught you off guard, skipping a beat, leaving a rush of warmth in its wake. You felt a knot form in your stomach, the kind you got when you knew something was coming that you weren’t ready for. You’d always had this unspoken line between work and...whatever it was the two of you had. A line you knew could blur if you weren’t careful.

“Work together?” you repeated, more as a stall than anything, trying to gather your thoughts. “Alex, I don’t...”

“Yeah.” he cut in, his voice stronger now, as if he’d been rehearsing this in his head. “You and I, together. We’d kill it in court. Think about it. Why keep butting heads at different firms when we could just...” He trailed off, but you knew where his mind was going. It was in the space between his words, hanging heavy in the air like he didn’t need to say it out loud. “It’s logical.”

The idea wasn’t new. He’d hinted at it before, thrown out suggestions here and there, always couched in some half-joke. But this was different. He was serious now, no more dodging around it.

You didn’t know what to say. Logically, he was right. You’d been a force to be reckoned with whenever you faced off in court. The cases you’d gone against each other on were some of the best work you’d ever done. Exhilarating in a way that made you feel more alive. But there was something about mixing work with...this. Whatever this was. It wasn’t just simple anymore.

“I don’t know.” you said finally, your voice softer, hesitant. “It’s just...it’s a lot, Alex. You know that.”

He sighed on the other end, and you could hear the frustration mixed with understanding. “Yeah, I get it.” said, and you heard the creak of the steering wheel as he gripped it tighter, a long exhale filling the silence. “But it doesn’t have to be. You and me, we’re already halfway there. We could just make it official, take it to…to the next level, you know.”

You closed your eyes for a moment, feeling the tension of the conversation build in your chest. It wasn’t just about working together. It was about everything else that came with it. The unspoken moments between you, the way he kissed you without thinking, the way you fell into this easy rhythm together. You didn’t know if you could handle that being tangled up with the ruthless, high-stakes world you both worked in.

“I’m not sure,” you admitted, “I need to think about it.”

There was another pause, and you could feel him shifting in his seat, probably glancing out the window, his mind already running through different arguments to convince you. But he didn’t push it, not this time. The car’s engine hummed softly in the background, and you could hear the faint click of his turn signal as he switched lanes, inching his way through the traffic. You could practically see his expression, the tight line of his lips, the slight twitch of his jaw as he waited for a different answer. 

“Alex?” you called out, knowing he was still there but not knowing how to change the subject already without hurting him more.

“I’m here.”

“Alex…” you hesitated, running a hand through your hair as you leaned back in your chair, staring at the stack of papers on your desk. “You know it’s not just about work. If we did this- if we worked together it- it would change everything. It’s not just you and me in court, you know that.”

“Yeah, but maybe that’s not a bad thing.” His voice was firm but quieter, trying not to push too hard. “I know we’ve got something good going on, but it could be better. We wouldn’t have to hide it anymore. We could be a team, inside and out.”

You could hear the light change through the phone, the faint rev of his engine as he started moving again. He was getting closer, but you felt further away from an answer. This was Alex. The same man who made you feel more alive than anyone else but also made you question every line you’d ever drawn in the sand.

“I just don’t want to mess this up.” you said softly, almost to yourself.

“You won’t.” he replied quickly, like he’d already made up his mind. “We won’t. We’re good together. You know that.”

The knot in your stomach didn’t unravel, though. If anything, it tightened as his words echoed in your head. You knew this wasn’t the last time he’d bring it up. He wouldn’t let it go easily. The idea of working together, of making your personal and professional lives one...It was a lot. Maybe too much.

But knowing Alex, he wasn’t going to stop until he made you see why it made sense.

“Just...drive safe, okay?” you added, trying to shift the conversation away from the heavy stuff. You couldn’t tackle this right now. Not with a meeting in twenty minutes and a head full of case details.

“Yeah.” he said, and you could hear the tension in his voice, but he didn’t press further. “I’ll be there in 5.”

“Okay.” you breathed. “Bye, Alex.”

“Bye.”

You hung up, staring at your phone for a moment as his words echoed in your mind. You stared at the wall for what felt like two seconds but when you glanced back at your screen you saw his text saying he’s pulling up. You sprinted out of your office, the door barely clicking shut behind you as you rushed down the stairwell. Taking the stairs was faster than the elevator, and besides, it gave you a few extra seconds to collect yourself before you met him. 

You and Alex had this unspoken routine. You’d meet him in the parking lot most times, tucked away where no one else was around. Down there, you didn’t have to be the sharp lawyers the world expected. You could just be you, and he could be him.

You pushed open the heavy door, the cool breeze hitting your face as you stepped out into the open. The lot was mostly empty this time of day, just a few scattered cars from the building’s occupants. You stood there for a moment, catching your breath, the usual knot of anticipation already forming in your stomach.

Then, you saw him.

Alex pulled up in his black car, the engine purring as it rolled into a spot a few feet away from you. He cut the engine and stepped out, immediately shrugging off his suit blazer and draping it over his arm like it was second nature. He looked every bit the part of the high-powered lawyer anyone would expect. White shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, tie slightly loosened. But there was something different about him here, something softer, more familiar. His eyes found yours as he walked toward you, and that faint smile of his tugged at the corners of his mouth.

He greeted you with a kiss on the cheek, his hand brushing lightly against your arm as he did. It was casual, but the contact lingered, like he couldn’t help himself.

“You always beat me down ‘ere.” he teased.

You shrugged, pulling out a cigarette from your jacket pocket. He reached into his own for a lighter, flicking it to life and holding the flame out for you. You leaned in, the tip of the cigarette catching fire, and took a slow drag as he watched you, his eyes searching your face for something unspoken.

“About earlier…” he started, and you could hear the nervousness creeping into his voice. He wasn’t usually like this. Hesitant. “I was serious, you know. About us…working together.”

You exhaled, the smoke swirling in the air between you as you passed the cigarette to him. He took a drag, his eyes never leaving your face as he waited for your response.

“What do you say?” he asked, his voice low but insistent now that he could actually see you, not just hear your voice.

You glanced down at the ground for a moment, buying yourself a few seconds before meeting his gaze again. “I just- I don’t see why it’s so important to you that we work together.”

He held the cigarette between his fingers and then, carefully, brought it back to your lips, watching you as you took another drag. His fingers brushed your chin lightly, and for a moment, neither of you said anything. You just stared at him, and he stared right back, his expression unreadable but intense, like he was trying to gauge what you were thinking.

“I mean,” you gestured between the two of you, “we’re already…you know.” The words were clumsy, but he understood. “Why do you need me for this?”

He looked down for a second, his brows furrowing as if he was choosing his words carefully. When he looked back up, his voice was soft but steady. “I don’t need you. I want you.”

You felt your chest tighten at the simplicity of his words, the quiet honesty in them. You held his gaze, letting the weight of what he was saying sink in. 

“You’ve got me.” you said, kicking his foot lightly with the heel of your shoe, a small smile tugging at the corner of your mouth. “Just…not as a law partner.”

He chuckled softly, a brief, resigned sound, as if he had expected the answer but had hoped for something different. You took another slow drag from the cigarette, savouring the moment, then passed it back to him.

“I have to get back to work.” you said after a pause, nodding toward the office building. “You okay?”

Alex hesitated for a moment, looking down at the ground, then back up at you with a small, almost imperceptible smile. “Yeah, no. I’m fine. Go on.”

You lingered for a moment longer, searching his face for something. An answer, maybe. To what question you didn’t know. Or reassurance. But all you found was that quiet confidence. He wasn’t going to push it, at least not right now. 

“See you later?” he called after you as you turned to leave.

“Yeah.” you replied, already making your way back toward the stairs.

“Yours?” he asked, his voice louder now, echoing slightly off the concrete walls of the parking lot.

“Sure!” you called over your shoulder without turning around, a smile pulling at your lips as you jogged back up the stairs, the cigarette smoke still lingering in the air behind you.

You were already in bed, the soft sheets pulled up around your waist, your skin still warm from the shower, the faint scent of your body lotion mingling with the cool air. The room was dim, the only light coming from the small lamp on the bedside table. You’d changed into one of his old t-shirts, the familiar fabric loose and worn in a way that made it impossible to part with, no matter how many times he teased you for stealing it. The quiet stretched on as you waited for Alex to come home. You’d been waiting, listening for the door creaking open, the soft shuffle of his footsteps.

When you heard the soft click of the door, your ears perked up. You didn’t move, but you could feel the shift in the air. Alex came in quietly, much more than usual. Normally, he’d throw his jacket over a chair or kick off his shoes with a heavy thud, but tonight there was a certain stillness about him. 

He looked worn out. His shirt, which had been crisp and neat this morning, was now wrinkled and untucked, the first few buttons already undone. The lines of his face seemed deeper in the dim light, shadows catching in the angles of his cheekbones and jaw. 

You told yourself it was because he had a long day. Maybe the case had drained him, maybe he was exhausted. But deep down, you knew that wasn’t it. He looked tired, sure, but there was something else lingering in his expression. Something unsettled.

He dropped his keys on the dresser and made his way over to the drawer he kept here, the one where he’d stashed a few pairs of pyjamas, toothbrush, the essentials that had come to live at your place over time. You watched him from your side of the bed. His fingers moved lazily, tugging off his tie and tossing it aside before unbuttoning the rest of his shirt, peeling it off with slow, almost mechanical movements, revealing the familiar lines of his arms and the muscles in his back tensing as he stretched briefly.

He slipped into his pyjama bottoms and pulled on a t-shirt, the one that clung a little too tight to his chest but he refused to replace. You caught yourself staring, something about watching him shed the day’s uniform, the shield he wore out in the world, felt strangely intimate. His head tilted slightly as if he were trying to shake off the day before climbing into bed beside you. 

He leaned back against the headboard, pulling his legs up under the covers. He didn’t look at you, though. Not right away. Instead, he reached for the book that had been sitting on your nightstand for weeks, long forgotten since the last time he’d stayed over. 

He opened it, the pages rustling softly, but you knew he wasn’t really reading. He wasn’t even pretending to be interested. His eyes didn’t track the words, his fingers didn’t move to turn the page. He was just holding it, an anchor for his hands, something to focus on other than you. You knew he wasn’t reading. He knew you knew. You watched him. His brow furrowed slightly, the subtle tension in his jaw telling you he wasn’t as relaxed as he wanted to seem. After a few minutes, you broke the silence.

You cleared your throat softly, turning slightly to face him, resting your head on your hand as you studied his profile. “How did that case go today?”

“Huh?” he asked, glancing up at you for a second, almost like he hadn’t heard you. He had.

You repeated the question, trying to keep your voice light. “The case. How’d it go?”

“Oh.” He shifted slightly, closing the book halfway, letting it rest in his lap as he rubbed the back of his neck. “It was good, yeah.”

There was a beat of silence, and you raised an eyebrow, waiting for him to elaborate. When he didn’t, you pressed, “Is that all?”

He hesitated, and you could see the gears turning in his head, like he was debating how much to tell you or how much to leave unsaid. Finally, he shrugged. “It went really well. Best outcome possible. But...I wasn’t expecting anything else, really.” His voice was flat, like the words were rehearsed, like he was brushing off a win that didn’t excite him anymore. 

You studied him for a second, taking in the way his lips pressed together in that subtle frown, how his fingers tightened slightly around the spine of the book. He wasn’t tense exactly, just…off. 

“Then why are you acting like it wasn’t?”

He sighed, staring at some distant point on the wall. His fingers tapped against the book cover in a slow, steady rhythm.

“Alex, what’s going on?”

He sighed, again, setting the book back on the nightstand with a soft thud. He just sat there, staring down at his hands, rubbing his thumb across the palm of his hand as if the answer was written there. His lips parted, like he was going to say something, but then he stopped himself, exhaling slowly. For a moment, you thought he might brush you off, tell you everything was fine and leave it at that. 

“It’s not the case.” he finally muttered, his voice quieter now. “It’s everything else. Work, this…” He gestured vaguely, not quite looking at you. “I can handle it, but lately, it’s been…I don’t know. It’s just...I’ve been thinking ‘bout earlier. What I said.”

You nodded, not breaking eye contact, waiting for him to continue.

“I wasn’t expecting you to be so…against it.” he admitted, his fingers fidgeting with the hem of his shirt now, that old nervous habit of his resurfacing. “I thought you’d at least consider it.”

You let out a small breath, sitting up a bit straighter. “It’s not that I’m against it, Alex.” you explained. “It’s just...complicated.”

“I don’t see why it has to be.” he muttered, his brows furrowing slightly, his hand reaching for yours almost instinctively, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. 

You looked down at your intertwined hands, feeling the warmth of his skin against yours, the quiet sincerity in his touch. 

“Everything feels like it’s building up, and I can’t figure out why it’s getting to me like this.” he said, his voice almost too soft to hear. “Us...I don't know. It’s like…” He stopped himself, letting out a low, frustrated sigh. “It’s nothing. I’ll be fine.”

“It’s not nothing if it’s making you feel like this. Talk to me.”

He looked down at your hand in his, his jaw tightening slightly as he processed your words. After a long moment, he gave a small nod, but he still didn’t speak. Instead, he turned his hand over, threading his fingers more tightly with yours. 

“It’s just hard.” he finally admitted. “I thought we would be on the same page.”

You squeezed his hand gently. “We are. I just need time to sort through it.”

His gaze flickered to yours, a mix of frustration and hurt. “Time? That’s what you need? I’m tired of waiting.”

“Alex, please-”

“Just cut it out!” he snapped, his frustration boiling over. “I’m not doing this now.”

He picked up his book again, but the tension in the air was palpable. You watched him for a moment, feeling a flash of irritation, but you bit it back. It wasn’t worth pushing him further, not when you could tell he was already on edge. So instead, you slipped your hand under the covers, over his stomach, feeling the muscles tense slightly under your touch.

You knew this was a distraction, but maybe it was what you both needed. Sex was great between you two. Sex was a distraction. A good one at that. At least temporarily. 

He made a small sound, a mix of surprise and something else as your hand moved lower. You felt his hands tremble slightly on the book, and he turned to look at you, his expression shifting.

“You promised you’d pay me back this morning.” you reminded him softly.

“Fine.” he replied, shifting closer. 

His hand slipped inside your underwear, a rush of heat igniting between you. You stroked him gently, feeling the tension begin to ease. His breath quickened as he rubbed you in return, his fingers moving in sync with your hand, both of you seeking that familiar distraction, that physical release. His touch was firm but not rushed, the way it always was when you needed to feel close but couldn’t find the words to say it. It felt good, but not quite enough.

“Are you going to drop the mad act already?” you asked, teasing him gently.

Alex gave a small, breathy laugh, pulling his hand from you and rolling over, hovering above you now. He looked down at you, his eyes soft but still clouded with something unsaid. “I’m only doing this,” he murmured, leaning in closer, his lips barely an inch from yours, “because I’m a man of my word.”

His lips brushed against yours, and in that moment, it felt like everything else faded away. You smiled faintly, your hands slipping around his waist as he kissed you, his weight settling over you just enough to feel his warmth, his presence. 

His hands found their way to your hips, slipping under the fabric of your shirt, fingers tracing lazy patterns along your skin. There was something unhurried in the way he touched you, as if he wasn’t in any rush to push things further, just savouring the closeness, the feel of you beneath him.

But you could sense the restlessness in him. That quiet frustration still hummed beneath the surface, barely contained. You broke the kiss, leaning your forehead against his for a moment, catching your breath.

“You’re still pissed.” you said softly, your fingers brushing through his hair. He didn’t respond immediately, just exhaled heavily, his eyes fluttering closed for a second.

“I’m not-” he started, but you cut him off with a gentle nudge.

“Don’t lie. I know you.”

He opened his eyes again, staring down at you, his expression caught somewhere between frustration and affection. “I’m not pissed.” he said, though there was an edge of stubbornness in his voice. “I just...I wasn’t expecting you to shut it down. It made sense to me.”

“I didn’t shut it down.” you countered, brushing your thumb across his jawline. “I just-”

“Shut up.” he said, slamming his mouth back onto yours, giving you no choice but to do as he said. 

As the kiss deepened, the conversation slipped away, replaced by the familiar rhythm of your bodies moving together. His hand found your waist again, tugging you closer, and for a while, you let yourselves get lost in each other. 

He pulled your shorts down, and you tugged his boxers down. You chuckled, glancing down at him. “See? You’re already hard. And to think you wanted to pretend you didn’t want this.” you remarked, a playful edge to your tone.

“Yeah, because you were just jerking me off, of course I’m-” he began, but you cut him off.

“Just fuck me.” you demanded. 

“You sure?” he murmured, his lips brushing against your ear, his breath warm, teasing.

“Shut up.” Your words came out in a breathless rush, your pulse racing as his lips moved down your neck, leaving a trail of heat in their wake. “More cock, less talk.”

A low chuckle rumbled deep in his chest, the vibration of it spreading through you, and despite yourself, you laughed softly, the sound mingling with his. His forehead pressed against yours for a moment, his breath mingling with your own. 

“You’re impossible.” he said, though a smile pulled at the corner of his lips, the playful tone lingering between you both.

“Yeah,” you replied with a smirk, “but you love it.”

His grin widened as he closed the space between you, his mouth claiming yours. “Guess I’ll just have to show you.”

His hands gripped your hips firmly, rough fingers digging into your skin with just the right amount of pressure, pulling you against him. Your bodies pressed together, heat radiating between you, every inch of him solid. 

With a slow thrust, he pushed inside you, his body filling yours completely, drawing a sharp gasp from your lips as your body arched beneath him. His own groan followed, his forehead dropping to your shoulder as the playful edge disappeared. 

His hips withdrew slightly, only to drive forward again, deeper this time, his movements slow but intense. One of his hands slid down to your thigh, gripping it firmly as he hooked your leg around his waist, the angle changing, every thrust hitting deeper. 

“God, you feel fucking amazing.” he gasped, his breath hot against your skin, his forehead pressing to yours once more, eyes locking onto you. Your hands tangled in his hair, pulling him closer, urging him on, and he responded without hesitation, his hips driving forward again and again and again. “Tell me what you want.” he rasped. 

“I want you.” you answered, your eyes locking onto his, your body tightening around him with every thrust. “I want all of you.”

“You have me.” he breathed. “Completely.”

“Then don't hold back.” you pleaded, the urgency of your words sending a thrill through him.

His pace quickened, his thrusts growing harder, faster, the sound of your bodies moving together filling the room, skin against skin, the slap of it in sync with the pounding of your heartbeat. The air between you grew hotter, more charged, as his movements became more frenzied, less controlled. 

“That’s it…” he muttered through gritted teeth, his jaw clenched with the effort of holding on. “Fuck.”

“Alex.” you gasped, your body coiling tighter, that familiar warmth building low in your belly, spreading through your veins. He paused, just for a heartbeat. 

“Look at me.” he commanded. 

You met his gaze, your breath catching in your throat. “Just us.” you whispered, your voice barely audible over the thundering of your pulse. He nodded, his expression softening even as his body remained taut.

His movements resumed, but now, there was a new intensity to them, a rhythm that felt like it was made just for you, attuned to your every reaction. Your body moved instinctively in time with his, every nerve alive, your breath coming faster, your moans growing louder as pleasure surged through you.

You clung to him, fingers digging into the muscles of his back as his thrusts became more urgent, more relentless. His name escaped your lips in a breathless, needy whisper, and the sound seemed to spur him on. His hips snapped against yours desperately. 

“God…” he muttered, his breath ragged, “so fucking good.”

The words barely sank in, your mind clouded by the pressure coiling tighter and tighter inside you. His hand slid between your bodies, fingers skillfully finding that swollen spot. He rubbed in perfect sync with his thrusts. The slick warmth of his touch, each movement, each stroke, pushed you closer to breaking.

“Together…” you breathed, barely able to get the words out, your voice tight with need.

His eyes met yours, dark and filled with a feral intensity. He quickened his pace, his hips driving into you with a frantic intensity that left no space between pleasure and pain, each thrust harder and deeper than the last. The tension in your body spiralled, every nerve set alight as his body slammed into yours. There was only him and his body moving inside you. 

“Fuck, it feels so good.” he groaned, his voice strained.

“Alex-” His name was barely a whisper, lost in the sounds of skin meeting skin. 

“I’m close.” he gasped, his breath ragged, his grip on your thigh tightening as he thrust into you harder. His eyes were wild now, half-lidded and filled with raw need. His body moved over you like he couldn’t get enough, couldn’t push deep enough, fast enough. His cock drove into you with desperate force, the angle hitting just right, over and over, until your head fell back. 

“Fuck- please-” you cried out, your body trembling beneath him, your nails digging into his back as you held on, the tension inside you about to snap. “Now. Now.” you choked out, your body trembling uncontrollably. 

He grunted in response, his face contorted with the strain of holding back. His hips slammed into you harder, faster, every movement rough, relentless. He was close, so close, and you could feel it in the way his breath came out. 

“Jesus- fuck-” He groaned deeply, his head falling forward, forehead pressed to yours, eyes squeezing shut as his hips jerked forward.

“Gonna come-” your voice was low, just as wrecked as his.

You cried out as your orgasm hit, your entire body seizing, muscles clenching hard around him. You could feel him inside you, still moving, his cock twitching as your body squeezed tight around him.

He wasn’t far behind. You could feel his body tighten, his rhythm faltering as he swore under his breath. “Fuck...so tight, I’m gonna-” His words broke off in a guttural groan as his hips jerked erratically, a deep groan tearing from his throat as he came hard, spilling into you with a few final, messy thrusts. His whole body shuddered, hips bucking involuntarily as the pleasure wracked through him, each pulse drawing another breathless curse from his lips.

“Fuck…” he swore again, voice strangled and hoarse, his movements growing more sluggish and sensitive. His body shivered against yours, the intensity of his release leaving him trembling, breathless, each small movement sending a jolt through him that made him gasp, his eyes squeezing shut as he fought the overstimulation.

“Shit.” he groaned, his face buried against your neck, his breath hot and heavy against your skin. He gave one last shallow thrust, his body shaking as he finally stilled, collapsing against you.

For a long moment, there was nothing but the sound of your mingled breaths. His weight pressed down on you, heavy but in a good way, his chest rising and falling against yours. His lips brushed against your neck, still hot with exertion, and you could feel his heart hammering against your skin, the rhythm slowing as the last waves of pleasure ebbed away. His arms stayed wrapped tightly around you, as if he couldn’t bear to let go just yet.

His breath came out in a long, shaky exhale as he slowly started to come down, body still twitching in the aftermath. His forehead rested against yours again, his eyes fluttering open, heavy-lidded and glazed with exhaustion. He gave you a weak, satisfied smile.

“Well,” you muttered, still catching your breath, a lazy smile tugging at your lips, “that’s one way to shut you up.”

He let out a soft chuckle, his breath warm against your skin. “Yeah...but I think I’ll need a minute to recover.” His body slumped against yours, spent, his weight heavy but familiar. He pressed a gentle kiss to your shoulder, lingering like he didn’t want to move just yet. “Honestly, I think I’ll let you do the talking from now on…we should’ve just done this from the start.”

He shifted slightly, his hips still flush against you, his cock twitching inside, even as he softened. His breath hitched, and he groaned quietly. “I’m still too sensitive...you’ve ruined me.”

You laughed, brushing a hand through his sweat-dampened hair. “That’s your problem now.”

“Yeah, it’s a good problem to have.” he murmured, his arms winding tighter around you. He buried his face in the crook of your neck, his lips brushing lightly against your skinz He needed the closeness, even a millimetre of distance would be too much. “Can we just stay like this for a bit? I like being close to you.”

He always got clingy after sex. It was sweet, endearing, really, but there was a softness in the way he did it that never failed to make you smile. You nodded, tightening your arms around him in response.

“Yeah, we can stay like this.”

Eventually, the heat between your bodies became too much, and he rolled off you, but not far. With a content sigh, he shifted onto his back, pulling you against his chest, his arm draping protectively over your waist. His fingers traced lazy circles on your shoulder, the soothing rhythm of his touch lulling you into a peaceful calm.

He was quiet for a few minutes, his hand still absentmindedly stroking your skin, until he broke the silence with a quiet, “Hey.”

You tilted your head up, meeting his gaze. “Hey. What’s on your mind?” you asked.

“I want a cocobolo desk.” he blurted out, completely serious.

You blinked, not sure if you’d heard him right. “What?”

“Yeah, I know…we were just- uh, you know- and I’m thinking about furniture.”

“You were just inside me, Alex.” you said, still catching your breath, a laugh bubbling up. “And you’re thinking about a cocobolo desk?”

“I was thinking about it then too.” he admitted sheepishly, a grin tugging at the corner of his lips.

You playfully shoved his shoulder, shaking your head. “You’re such a bastard.”

“I’m a multi-tasker,” he said, “I can focus on more than one important thing at a time.”

You snorted, rolling your eyes. “Oh, yeah? So I’m just as important as a desk?”

He raised an eyebrow, feigning deep thought. “You know I love you.”

“More than a cocobolo desk?” you teased, smirking.

“Comme ci, comme ça.” You could tell he was only half-joking, and that made it all the funnier.

“Fuck your desk.” you shot back, still grinning. “We’re not talking about desks right now.”

“It’s a beautiful desk.” he insisted, his voice dropping in mock seriousness. “Elegant. Sleek. Very functional.” He gestured with his hands like he was painting a picture of it in the air.

You fought the smile threatening to break through but couldn’t hold back. “What are we even doing here?”

He shifted, leaning closer so that his forehead rested against yours. “Just dreaming about the future, I guess.” he said softly, his voice a little more vulnerable now. “You’re dripping out what could’ve been my future, you know. All that cum? Just wasted potential. Those could’ve been great kids.”

You snorted, shaking your head. “Oh my god, you’re ridiculous.”

“Ridiculously right.” he teased, giving you a lopsided grin. “I’m talking little prodigies, world-changers. And now…we’ll never know.”

You rolled your eyes, laughing. “You’re really out here mourning imaginary kids?”

“I’m just saying.” he shrugged, still smirking. “Lost potential…but seriously,” he said, lowering his voice, “a cocobolo desk would be perfect for the office.”

You raised a brow. “What office?”

“Ours. You know, when you change your mind and we start our own firm.”

You sighed dramatically, though you couldn’t keep the warmth from your tone. “Okay, fine. Maybe. But can we remember that we’re naked and we just fucked raw for now, baby?”

His grin softened as he scooted closer, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you back into his chest. “Oh, I remember.” 

You chuckled, shaking your head. “You’re very touchy tonight.”

He nuzzled into your neck, his breath hot against your skin. “I just think it’s important to reflect on our…accomplishments. I mean, look at us.” He gestured between the two of you, smirking. “That last round?” His hand settled on your hip, pulling you even closer. “That was top-tier teamwork.”

“You’re seriously calling this teamwork?”

He nodded solemnly, though his grin betrayed him. “Oh, definitely. Partnership at its finest. And just wait until you see this desk. You’ll understand. You’ll fall in love with it, I swear.”

“Jeez, Turner.” you laughed, “I hate that I love you sometimes.” 

He kissed the top of your head, lingering for a moment like he was trying to soak it all in. “I love you too.” he murmured, his voice softer now, more serious, like he needed you to really hear it. “And not just because you put up with me.”

You smiled into his chest, feeling his arms tighten around you just a bit more. His breath slowed, growing deeper, more relaxed, but his grip on you never loosened. Even in his awkward, clingy way, you could feel how much he needed this, you.

a/n: Like I said, heavily based on Kim & Jimmy from BCS. I mean, the cocobolo says it all. I would be down for a follow up part if anyone would like that.

tags: @st7rnioioss @theonlyoneswhoknowsblog @rentsturner @yourstartreatment @avxoxo1 @jqsvi @turnersfav @youresodarkbabe @psychedelicrocker @aacheinthejaw @zayndrider @humbuginmybones @tedioepica

[echantedtoon]

No Good Deed Goes Unpunished Ch1 Premise

Elegance, grace, and beauty. That is what made up someone's worth where she was from. But perhaps it was her kindness that was the downfall of her life. After all no good deed goes unpunished.

(Warnings for yandere themes, mentioned entertainment district and spicy stuff but it will STAY sfw, Kid's in cannon killing streak and violence, maybe some cussing, and kidnapping.

Tagging @punks-never-die205 @feiatjjk

@karmadglory

Remember if you want to be added to the taglist lemme know.

I apologize if I write Kid or his crew OOC in this. I only wrote for Kid like one other time. Also apologies for the inaccuracy of anything. I'll research everything in One Piece as accurately as possible. I'm only planning on this to have three parts so bare with me.)

The waves crashed against the solid wood of the nightmare that tainted the seas with its blight. The dull voyage towards it's next destination undisclosed to the masses until it was too late. Until the cries of the victims dammed to endure the blight's upcoming wrath soared throughout the heavens. The air impure of the smoke from hellfire that ravaged the land and homes of the peaceful innocents that could flee in terror and watch in ever growing shock and fear as the Red Devil laughed his cries of mania.

'Pillage. Plunder. Take. Leave not even a penny of value behind.'

That was the unspoken code for his existence and by extension the very existence of his hellish crew. Each one as deadly and hellish as their Red Devil of a leader however no one could compare to the wrath of the leader himself. That's why he was feared far more than the trickling members who followed him into battle. 

'Take what you want. Dam anyone else who stands in the way. We are the best of the worst generation.'

The faint scent of smoke still  festered from the clothes on their backs from the latest of the hellborns' victims. Consuming everything in their path that wasn't stolen or rescued from their grasp by the few lucky victims that managed to get away from the scorching flames and weapons the devil's wielded. For those who survived lived to tell the newest horror stories of the blight.

The blight known around the world as the Victoria Punk.

A ship lead by the devil captain and his band of murderers and thieves. Thousands of lives changed forever for the worst by a single vessel.

The vessel carried on into the night. The wind pushing it towards the closest destination to endure their presence. The sour wind was filled with the cheers of the victorious thieves celebrating their latest tragedy. The decks filled with the thundering of footsteps and murmuring of excited voices as they all exchanged words and passed around the rewards of their disaster. 

THUD!

The murmuring was short lived when a large wooden chest was just dropped in the middle of the deck at the feet of two large boots. Two laughing men eagerly grabbing at the top to pry it open for the mostly blank face of the one who watched them. After all-

Everyone knows that the Captain has first pick of the best plunder. 

A metallic sound was heard as a lock snapped. Wood creaked as the top was pried open. And moonlight glowed from silver to gold. Ah. A wondrous abundance it was. The sight of gold bedazzled in the moonlight was always a sight to behold. Never got old. A gasp of awe passed around the deck at the sight of cold and countless gems. Scattered greens and reds signalled the presence of rubies and emeralds while the clear ones told them that diamonds were in the mix. As much as greedy hands wanted to nab the precious loot, the unspoken code that the Captain would happily toss whoever dared defy him into the ocean for a swim. 

So all watched in bated breathes as footsteps approached the chest with a frown. 

The glittery gold shining off from the moonlit gold. In their glitter the many reflections of Amber eyes as they leaned down to gaze upon the shimmer and shine. From the chest a single jewelry was taken. A gold chained necklace swayed from where a finger and thumb gripped it's base. A single large pink spinel gem sparkled and swayed, reflected in the amber pupil that brought it close to inspect it's sparkle. Eyes narrowed looking as it swayed almost hypnotically.. before red lips split in a wide grin. 

"Heh. And to think they were planning on using this to fund that new little marine base. They should've known better than to try and build that in the same area as pirates!" A bout of loud laughter filled the air from the crew. The necklace tossed to the side into the lucky excited hands of a greedy pirate. "I think we earnt ourselves a little reward after this."

"Whaddya mean by that, Kid?"

The secondary voice was calm and collected despite the amount of blood that spilt from the killer's hands just a mere few hours ago. The name being ironic of his deeds.  Despite the calm demeanor by the curious tilt of his head one could tell he was curious as to what the red headed captain was thinking of. 

The fearsome man of blood red hair turned to him with that sadistically pleased grin of his. "I'm talking about where we're currently positioned, Killer." His brow raised. "If we set sail for the Flower Capital right this second, about when we'll get there?"

The blonde masked man him in a clear tone of thought, calculating carefully before the tilted head turned back up. "If the winds keep going like this and we go now, then we should get there either around sundown or nightfall tomorrow. But why would we set sail for there?"

"Ain't it obvious, Kil? I think you deserve a reward for the hard work we all put in! Don't you agree?" A flurry of agreement from the jeerers was immediately as an arm raised pointing out a specific direction. "Turn the ship northwest and set full speed ahead. IM TAKING YOU LUCKY BASTARDS TO THE ENTERTAINMENT DISTRICT!"

An uproar was immediate. The promise of women, booze, and women was bestowed upon them all. A pair of men in the cheering crowd even embracing each other in the excitement.

"Is that a wise choice, Kid?," the blonde man asked slowly crossing his arms and looking at the smiling Captain. "That place is more corrupt than some waters of the sea, and crime runs rampant."

"Sounds like my kind of place."

"What I'm trying to say is maybe we shouldn't ask for more trouble after destroying the makings of a marine base," he explained calmly, "That place is full of criminals and I heard you're not even allowed to live there unless you got money or you're in service to some rich prick. Your bounty might draw some crazy out of the woodworks desperate for cash."

A broad arm was slung over his shoulders and the blonde knew that it was pointless to argue right that second. "Then we got nothin' to worry about. We got the funds, and if we need more we'll just gladly take some of the graciously donated 'funds' from those rich fucks. If anyone tries to get in our way ... We'll our night might be a little more fun is all. Plus I have three good things that's gonna convince you otherwise."

"*sigh* And those would be?"

"Booze, food, and women." He held up three fingers as he lifted off the subjects of convincing.

Despite the mask he could see the convinced look that Killer had before he sighed once more. "Fine but let me just say now that I told you so if something goes wrong."

"Keyword, Kil. IF it goes wrong. Which it-"

"Don't finish that sentence and jinx yourself."

Despite the warning of the longtime trusted friend, the Captain did nothing but pat the faithful companion on the back before turning his attention back towards the chest that still laid bare and untouched, as everyone knew the rules in place by authority and hierarchy of the ship. The sweet jingling of coins against jewelry and gemstone sounded out as his hands dipped down into the board and threatened to spill onto the deck as they slipped between his fingers from hands pulled back. After all the Captain ALWAYS gets best pick of the spoils. 

"To the victor goes the spoils."

[wormtime123]

thinking about how kind cleo & etho have been about bringing in the sad wet cat of a man that showed up on their doorstep playing along with his jokes and bizarre comments. spinning around doing silly dances trying to help him out. cletho had a perfectly good thing going without him and were still so welcoming. if grian turns on them and has to get put down rabid animal style i’m eating my own arm

[transmascutena]

thinking about how akio sees his younger self in utena and wondering if there's any fondness there. doesn't change the horror of what he does to her obviously but i do wonder

[good--merits-accumulated]

i fear i am endlessly predictable (writing new dps au which is once again fantasy with Arthurian elements)

[fortes-fortuna-iogurtum]

why does William continue insisting that Eliza should just settle down and forget the detective business and STOP undermining him and going against his order and DEFINITELY STOP jumping in the middle of his cases (particularly ones where she's used some unscrupulous means to get in the middle of them), when almost every time she does something incredibly cool (sometimes actually saving his life at the same time), and the camera immediately flashes to his face wherein can be seen a mixture of general annoyance + a very distinct oh snap that's really hot

[waterlinkedgirl]

Musical Touken Ranbu: Tokyo Kokoro Oboe english sub

I know this isn’t the TsuruKara Souki you were expecting, but on the plus side, neither was I expecting this! Since I’m watching this with a friend soon, I figured, why not? It is very high up in my faves list, after all 🥺

Following my predecessors, the start of the subtitles has a little intro blurb on each of the historical figures, and I’m also planning on making a little research file in which I’ll try to explain a few things about Masakado and horses, Masakado and Kikyou, Ota Dokan and the yamabuki (Japanese kerria) girl, and some details about Tenkai as person and his planning of Edo as city.

I’m also planning to include some translation notes (specifically on ほころび・る hokorobi/ru because that deserves to be mentioned) in the file, some interpretations on the girl with the Noh mask, and a few fun facts about how each of the historical figures relates to Inari or foxes. Because in the context of the roles Suishinshi and the Gous get given throughout TKO, as well as the themes present in it, it may be interesting to keep a certain little fox in the back of your mind while watching!

Keep in mind that this is only the subtitle file, timed and tled to the DMM archive distribution.

You can download the subs for the DMM archive distribution here,

and with lots of thanks to a friend, the subs for the BD/DVD version can be found here!

The research file will be able to be found here too, at a later date.

[orcelito]

It's so interesting playing p5r and watching Haru's social link... in discacc, I kinda gloss over most of the social links, bc theyre largely the same as in the game, but with her... I'm gonna have to really pick apart how her friendship with Akira develops lol. Bc of how things have been set up, their friendship will be fundamentally different from how things are in the game... they CAN be friends, I just... need to smooth some things out first...

[emcads]

esme really looked at the conventions of unsexing yourself by going to sea and said no im not doing that.  i’m a woman uncompromisingly and ur going to notice that and deal with it. or not!  have an apoplexy and die for all i care.

[nunyabznsbabes]

Katniss is like Lucy Gray this, Katniss is like Sejanus that, and yes fine that's all good and true and lovely but Katniss Everdeen is also a direct parallel to Coriolanus Snow and people NEED to start talking about this because it's driving me crazy.

Think about it: they both grew up poor and deeply vulnerable, losing parents at a very young age, with a matriarchal adult (Katniss' mother and Coriolanus' Grandma'am) who fails to provide for them emotionally and physically. They intimately understand the threat of starvation, even developing with stunted growth because of it, and their narrations in the books share a fixation on food. Throughout their childhoods, both experienced constant fear and suffered a fundamental lack of control over their circumstances. Because of this, they're inherently suspicious of the people around them. They resent feeling indebted to others, especially those who have saved their lives. They're motivated almost entirely by family and deeply connected to their communities. Both are used and manipulated by the Capitol, both are forced to perform to survive and despise every inch of it, both are thrown into the Arena and made to kill. Both have a self-sacrificial, genuinely sweet sister figure acting as their conscience. Peeta and Lucy Gray - performers and love interests with a fundamental kindness and sense of hope about them - fulfill markedly similar roles in their narrative. Both contribute to the development of the future Hunger Games, Snow throughout tbosas and Katniss towards the end of Mockingjay.

It's easy to ignore these similarities because, as mirrors of each other, they are exact opposites. Katniss is from District 12, viewed and treated as less than human; Snow is the cream of the Capitol crop, given the privilege of a name with social weight, an ancestral home, and the opportunity of the Academy despite having no more money than a miner from 12. Katniss has no agency over her life, and responds by being kind whenever she's able, while Snow justifies horrendous evils in order to continue his quest for complete control. Katniss does everything she can to protect her family; Snow does everything he can to protect his family's image as an extension of his own ego. Katniss loves her District and connects with its inhabitants on a meaningful level, but Snow is indifferent at best to his peers - the apparent "superior people" - and only engages with his community for personal gain. Katniss emerges from the Arena horrified at herself and the system, but Snow takes his trauma and turns it into an excuse to perpetuate the violence with himself at the top. Katniss cares for Prim until her death and then snaps at the loss of her little sister, while Snow survives on Tigris' blood, sweat, and tears and then torments and abandons her, presumably because she calls him out on his insanity. Snow actively adds to and popularizes the Hunger Games because of his vendetta against the Districts following his childhood wartime trauma - Katniss briefly agrees to a new Hunger Games in the pursuit of vengeance, but later stops them from happening by killing Coin and choosing a life of peace and privacy. Snow is obsessed with revenge, but Katniss empathizes with the Capitolites and does what she can to keep them from suffering. He exists in a cruel system and selfishly upholds it; she exists in a cruel system and works to dismantle it for the good of her family and community, at great personal cost. And Peeta and Lucy Gray are incredibly similar, but Katniss and Peeta forge a relationship of genuine love and understanding that shines in comparison to Coriolanus' obsessive projection onto Lucy Gray.

So, yeah, Katniss is Lucy Gray haunting Coriolanus. But I bet you anything that eighty-something year old President Snow looks at her, the girl on fire, bright and young and brilliant, emerging from a childhood of starvation with a relentless hunger for success, a talented and charming performer helping her win the Games, and he sees the ghost of his own past. And that's why he's so afraid of her! Because if he sees himself in her, then he's up against his own cunning, his own talent for manipulation, his own charisma, his own genius. He's up against the version of himself that he once wished to be, with the nightmare army of his childhood at her back and her star-crossed lover at her side, spewing Sejanus' truths in his own voice. This isn't to say that Katniss ever achieved the level of power and agency that Coriolanus did during her time with the rebellion, but it is to say that Snow was taken down by what truly terrified him - his own morality, come to finish the job.

[hxney-lemcn]

I Love You~ — NRC Students x gn! reader

summary: How Twisted Wonderland boys react to you saying "I love you."

tw: stalking (Rook), slight angst for some, mainly fluff.

a/n: this is the most I've written for for so many characters. I hope I did them well, I even wrote for characters I'm not confident in. Also, I swear they don't all just say I love you too back, Heartslabyul boys are just too sweet not not (for the most part).

wc: 4.5k (~200 each character)

Master List

Your feelings had been building up over time. It got to the point that it felt like all your feelings were bubbling over. It was only sooner or later that the depth of your love was going to spill. You only hoped that it wouldn’t scare him away.

Riddle Rosehearts

It wasn’t the first time you said those damn words that sent his heart into cardiac arrest. ‘Love you,’ You would chime playfully as he seemed near to scolding you for something or another. He hated to admit how effective those words were on him, it didn’t help how you said it so casually. Yet this time was different, your tone being nothing but soft, your eyes nothing but warm…he wasn’t prepared for this. Avoiding your loving gaze, Riddle could feel his brain melt, his tongue felt like lead, and his heart was beating erratically. When your gaze turned worried, shying away the longer he stayed silent, he somehow gathered the courage to respond.

“I-I love you too.”

Trey Clover

It was no secret how much you both cared for each other. You both seemed like a married couple to the other students. You never really needed to say anything out loud because your love was shown through actions, the way you both smiled at each other, and how the other was always on the mind. Yet hearing you say those words out loud shocked him. What shocked him even more was how much he longed to hear you say it again, and again, and again. It didn’t take long for him to regain his composure, smile brightening as he didn’t even hesitate to respond.

“I love you too~”

Cater Diamond

He always hid behind a smile and a flash of his camera. People would say his care for you only ran skin deep, but you knew otherwise. You had managed to wiggle your way through Cater’s walls and that scared him, but it also brought a sense of relief. His compliments towards you were genuine, showing you just how much his fans loved you (an extension of his own love). He’d always say he loved you playfully, sending a wink your way making you nearly combust…and you’d respond in kind (unknowingly doing the same to him). So when you said those three simple words, your tired eyes fluttering shut as you snuggled into his blankets, he felt like he was going to puke. He felt like a complete coward that he could only reply back after you had fallen asleep, vowing to show you just how much he cared the next day.

“I love you more than you know.”

Deuce Spades

We all know that Deuce isn’t the sharpest tool in the shed, yet you found that endearing. The way he showed his care for you was so obvious it was hard to ignore. How he clearly favored you over Ace, sending threatening glares to any student who dares to look at you the wrong way. You had never felt safer than when you were with Deuce, so you’d try to reciprocate…yet he always seemed to outshine you in your made up care competition. Yet you quickly found his weakness after he shied away after you hugged him once. So when he did something so endearingly silly, it was only natural for those three words to slip…rip Deuce. He stammered, face blazing red as he tried to wrap around what you said, trying to untangle any hidden meanings. Bashfully, he couldn’t meet your eyes as he responded.

“I…love you too.”

Ace Trappola

This menace. He flexes all the time, claiming how you must love him with the way you follow him like a puppy. Yeah…he makes it hard sometimes. So out of spite you’d go to Deuce, causing Ace to sulk. It was in those moments that you realized he was lowkey (highkey) projecting his feelings onto you. It helped you deal with his unabashed praise for himself. You found yourself teasing Ace back, poking him and irritating him (he did find it annoying but he’d rather your attention be on him then anyone else). He’d show off during his games, always looking towards you and making him a clumsy mess on the court. When you finally muttered how you felt (somewhat bitterly) Ace felt his brain shut down for a second before quickly rebooting, a shaky smirk on his face with bright red cheeks as he replied. 

“Of course you do! Who wouldn’t- OW! Okay, okay, I l-like you too I guess.”

(bro couldn’t even say love you back 💀)

Leona Kingscholar

To anyone who didn’t know him, they’d think he was indifferent to you, if not annoyed by you. Yet to your and Ruggie’s keen eyes it was easy to see his affection for you crack through his impervious exterior. How he’d drag you with him for his constant naps, how he’d let you play with his hair, and how he’d glare at anyone who seemed to get a little too friendly with you. Leona didn’t like being vulnerable, after all, showing your belly meant submission and death. So when you said those three words he’d dreamt of you saying, how lovingly you were staring at him as you fiddled with one of his braids, he felt his scowl worsen at the fluttery feeling in his chest. His green eyes glanced away, his face softening back into a neutral expression.

“I better be the only one you say that to, herbivore.”

Ruggie Bucchi

He’s another one that people can’t tell if he likes you or is using you. Whenever you were seen with him you were helping him with chores (in reality you only helped him so you both could relax together afterwards). It was clear how much you cared for him, bringing him snacks, helping him with chores, offering to pay for his meals (rip your already bare wallet). In return, he’d share with you. A feat that no one had ever seen him do before. Ruggie never felt guilty for taking/getting food…that was until you never seemed annoyed by how much he took from you. So he felt it was only fair if you had some too…you did pay for it after all. He found his tail wagging when you smiled at him, hugging him, or even when you ruffled his hair. So when you said that! Those words he never expected to be uttered from your lips, let alone aimed at him, his tail just couldn’t stop moving! No matter how composed he seemed, it was like his brain was on fire (insert that spongebob clip).

“Shishishi, I suppose I might feel the same…the price for that information is the other half of your donut. Shishi.”

Jack Howl

This guy. Definition of tsundere. Acts like he wants nothing to do with you while sticking by your side for as long as he can. The nice thing is that he helps you become more healthy. He never forces you, but you feel more inclined to join him in his ‘morning’ jogs (his morning jog is way too early for you so it's technically his second jog of the day and he calls it his wind down jog). Everyone can tell how he feels for you, it's clear in the way his eyes are always searching for your comfort, how he steps in when someone gets too pushy, or when his tail sways when all your attention is on him. Another guy you feel super safe with. The two of you were studying when you said it, atmosphere warm. Jack’s ear twitched, unsure if he heard you correctly, eyes searching yours for confirmation. When you gave no indication that you were joking or being silly, it felt like his heart flipped.

“I…care about you…as well.”

Azul Ashengrotto

He is sneakily unseaky about his feelings. One moment he’s treating you like an actual valued guest with no hidden intentions (😒) and the next he’s lowkey (highkey) flexing on you. Mixed signals because you aren’t sure if he’s trying to make you feel bad about yourself or if he’s trying to make himself look better to you. “Oh don’t worry, this won’t put a dent in my pockets,” He’d say with a smug smirk (you’re lowkey side-eyeing him). One time you poked him to see how’d he react and it was super amusing. Ran away with the brightest blush you’d ever seen claiming he had work to do…yeah…right. When you realized he is in fact trying to impress you (and realized it was really fun to tease him with affection), you became more comfortable around him, looking forward to the next time you could visit the Mostro Lounge. It got to the point that Jade would just bring you to the VIP room (if Azul wasn’t busy swindling a poor soul). When you spoke those words it came out of seemingly nowhere, Azul spilling ink all over a contract he just finished writing. He was so close to darting out of the room, face ablaze, hands trembling. Do you know just how powerful those words are? 

“P-perhaps…d-do you…I-I think…” (You broke him, don’t worry he just needs time to collect himself. He loves you too 💖)

Jade Leech

Rip. It kinda takes a lot to catch his eye (do you even want that?). He found it amusing how kind you were, you wouldn’t make it for a second in the deep (k…). Yet what really caught his eye was that you were a green thumb. How you recognized one of his mushrooms and the gleam in your eyes as you stated all you knew about it (not much, but more than anyone else he’s met). Now you have a scary eel that pops up every now and then. Jade only cared about mushrooms, but now on his hikes he’d spot a plant you liked (every now and then bringing it back for you). Downside, you now had Floyd’s attention as well. I mean c’mon, his brother finding interest in someone? He just had to check the guppy out…thankfully Jade stopped him from squeezing you (a true testament of his care for you). The words spilled out of you when Jade had offered to…’help’...with a certain…’problem’ of yours (an annoying student who wouldn’t leave you alone). A look of pure shock washed over his face before it quickly turned into a cunning grin, something that sent the hairs on your arms to raise. 

“My my, what a bold statement. Please, treat me gently would you?~” (He did not forget about your ‘problem’)

Floyd Leech

Rip #2. You know he cares (sometimes) when he stops calling you guppy (sometimes he does it just to annoy someone cough Riddle cough). Your case was a mix of both. One time when Floyd wouldn’t stop poking your cheeks you poked his nose with a ‘boop’, and he had deemed you boops. Also wouldn’t stop booping you back after that. He is not ashamed at all. He’d squeeze you, drape over you, pick you up, poke you, nearly kill you. The usual. You always would pretend to be annoyed (although sometimes that annoyance was very real) and Floyd always found your reactions hilarious. Although he had his bad moods, 6/10 times he’d feel better when you booped him. Jade would tease him, Azul would ask you over to the Mostro Lounge more often, even Riddle would avoid you (because where you were Floyd had to be nearby). When he was in a bad mood and you booped him while saying “I love you~”, Floyd froze. Sharp eyes watching your every move like the predator he is, a wide grin revealing his sharp teeth. 

“Awwww, I love ya too Boops! Now lemme squeeze ya!” 

Kalim Al-Asim

Where do I even start? He’s loving on you the moment he sees you. Hugs, cheek kisses, hand holding, it's all normal to him. He cares about you so why wouldn’t he show you? Poor Jamil, he was really stressed at first, unsure what your intentions were. So to start, you had to prove yourself to Jamil, Kalim had accepted you the moment his eyes landed on you. The more you hung out, the clearer your affection for Kalim shined, and you two were basically a married couple at this point. It was easy to care for him, reciprocating his affection without hesitation. Idk there's not much to say about him, he’s just a loving and carefree guy. It was when you both were winding down, hanging out with just the other, doing some homework (one of the ways you proved yourself to Jamil). Your dreary eyes watched as Kalim swayed in place, his eyes soon meeting yours. His beaming smile had all your defenses down, words falling out without you realizing it. It wasn’t until Kalim jumped at you, squeezing you tightly, face nuzzling into your neck.

“I love you too! We should get married!”

(😅)

Jamil Viper

It’s admirable that you managed to break down Jamil’s walls. He was even more surprised at how your attention would always seem to land on him instead of his insufferable prince. No matter how much Kalim basically begged for your attention, your eyes would always drift to Jamil, a warm smile on your lips when your eyes met. He showed his affection for you in how he looked after you. He had grown up taking care of someone, and although he found himself hating Kalim for his position, for Jamil’s spot in the world, he found himself enjoying caring for you. He loved how your eyes lit up when he offered you lunch, he had made too much anyways (riggggghhhht…), he felt his heart flip when you offered to help clean up or when you offered to help braid his hair. It was still hard for him to wrap his head around the fact that you truly cared for him and had no ulterior motives. His heart beat erratically when you said those words, when you looked only at him so lovingly, how your hand caressed his cheek so tenderly. It was all so overwhelming and he pulled away, pulling his hood up to hide his blush. His tongue felt heavy and he wasn’t sure if he had the heart to let himself be so vulnerable.

“Let’s continue this later…but rest assured I feel a similar way.”

Vil Schoenheit

Ohhh boy. Vil, as much as I love him, might be a bit overbearing at first. If anything, you’d feel ashamed about yourself at first. You never seemed to be good enough as Vil would always find something to pick apart about you. You’d eat too many carbs, your uniform was wrinkly, your eyebags seemed to be more pronounced. When you snapped, crying and pleading for him to just stop, that you knew you weren’t beautiful or perfect like him and you didn’t want to hear it anymore, Vil had to rethink how he showed his care. He didn’t say those things because he thought you were ugly or terrible, he only wanted you to better yourself. To become more healthy and to take better care of yourself. Reflecting, he realized just how mean he seemed…enter the spoiling. Instead of nit picking you, he would give you stuff without a word. You found yourself with skin care products made by him (he didn’t want to taint your skin with bad ingredients), he would bring you a balanced lunch (perhaps breakfast and dinner too, if you’d be kind enough to join him), and he’d gift you outfits that complemented your figure perfectly (sometimes he’d have to get them costume made). It was a bit of a shock at the drastic change, but you found yourself doting on him more as well. You both were having dinner together, Vil complaining about his coworkers and you talking about whatever you were into at the moment. When he mentioned something he’d think you’d like you found yourself sweetly telling him you loved him. He was astounded, eyes locked on yours. As much as he tried to be composed, he couldn’t deny the fluttering of his heart or the heat on his cheeks. 

“I love you as well, my sweet potato.”

Rook Hunt

This man 💀. At first you were terrified. Man was literally stalking you. You even went to the professors for help because excuse me? Stalking bad. And as much as Rook took amusement in your actions, he decided to finally get to know you…face to face (he already knew a ton about you). You gave him bombastic side eye when he first was trying to talk to you. He’d pop out of bushes (strangely no leaves stuck in his hair), he’d appear right behind you…one time he seemed to appear from literally nowhere. Against your own will, you warmed up to the freak. When he wasn’t continuously complimenting you, you found him to be funny. Rook is also unashamed about his love for you, he’d shout it from the roof tops if you asked. He also took the fact that you were warm to him as a sign of affection. You didn’t nearly deck him for popping out of the bushes this time? Oh mon chéri, his heart melts that you felt his presence to be so comforting. It felt weird, Rook had complimented you many times, spouting about how much his heart yearns for you. You almost didn’t want to tell him that you loved him, a bit spiteful since you knew how smug he’d look afterwards (you’d never live it down either). Yet when Rook handed you a rose, spieling about how it could never compare to you, you found yourself crumbling. Instead of that smug look you expected, he looked genuinely happy. Green eyes bright and shining, smile so wide you thought it split. Yet that gleam soon looked like that of a predator who finally caught his prey. 

“Mon chéri, my heart weeps with joy, I cannot imagine a world without your brilliance shining. Avoir son cœur est la plus grande récompense.”

Epel Felmier

Epel is a tough nut even if he looks cute. He’d tease you mercilessly (Ace moment) on some days, while most he found himself complaining to you. Vil would work him tirelessly, and he can handle tough work! You’d sneak him candy or some jerky (that was more manly than candy). He found himself always trying to impress you, whether it be carrying something heavy or showing you his grades (he improved from last time okay). He loved how you complimented his strength or his intelligence, but deep down he was scared you saw him as a cute prim boy that Vil was trying to turn him into. If anyone tried anything with you he’s the one you’d go to, making his chest puff in confidence. Of course he’s trying to not fight so Vil won’t punish him, but a stern talking too wasn’t out of the picture. You both were relaxing under a tree. You mindlessly watched Epel as he carved an apple, handing you pieces when they were cut perfectly. Another one who can’t handle it when you say it. Eyes wide, shoulders hunched, face matching the apple he was holding. 

“Ya c-can’t jus’ s-say that! Y-you tryna k-kill me? ‘Tch, you’re lucky I like ya too.”

Idia Shroud

He’s such a simp. Some days he can barely squeak out a word to you, hiding himself in the comfort of his hoodie, others he’s flexing on you about just how much more he knows about a game than you. When he’s feeling extra generous (trying to get y’alls intimacy meter up to max) he’ll buy you the fancy currency in your favorite gacha game, go on, do as many ten pulls as it takes to get your favorite character up to max level. His favorite moments are when you both are watching an anime together, in the same bed…it makes his heart explode just thinking about it (dudes on the opposite side of the bed 💀). What makes him care for you even more is how you interact with Ortho. You two are his favorite people and seeing how well you both get along just further warms his heart. When you muttered those words to him, he literally screamed. Hoodie up, hiding under his blankets, his hair the brightest pink it’s ever been. He felt light headed and he was sure if he opened his eyes his vision would be spotty.

“G-gah! Your charm is maxed out! It’s n-not fair that you had the special dialogue to insta kill me.”

Ortho Shroud (platonic only obvs)

He is just a little ray of sunshine. He’s the reason why you got so close to Idia in the first place. He’s always on the hunt for any potential friends for him and his brother. You were always sweet to him, doting on him and calling him cute. Ortho honestly thought of you as another sibling (might as well be with how much you hype him up). Ortho would always try to accompany you if he had time, always ‘hinting’ at you to visit his brother (bro is not hinting, straight up just asking). He felt his cpu warm as he processed his happy feelings at watching you and his brother get along, as well as when you always brought Ortho over to join you both. It didn’t take long for you to tell Ortho you loved him, I mean he was just so adorable!

“I’m so happy! I love you too!”

Malleus Draconia

I hope you're ready to become a royal beside him. He shows he cares with grand gestures (which Lila helps make them smaller gestures). Malleus is used to people fearing him, and the fact that you didn’t? Man was gobsmacked. He shared his interests with you, and you shared yours with him. He would research anything you said that he didn’t understand (it was even better if you were the one teaching him). If you thought your affection was spilling over, Malleus’ was flooding. It turned into him giving you fine jewelry, clothing, flowers, food, you want it, it's yours. He cared for you greatly, and he was unsure how else to show his affection. You gave him a hug? He’d hug you now as a greeting. One time you booped his nose and he went cross eyed following your finger. You’d almost spilled your guts then (I’m surprised you didn’t cus that shit’s adorable). You always confused him with your cute forms of affection, but he wouldn’t have it any other way. It seemed impossible for you to keep in your love any longer on a bright, moonlit night. As you stared into the night sky, you spilled those three little words that unknowingly sealed your fate. Malleus felt his heart be set aflame, eyes taking you in. It was then that he finally thought of a perfect ring for you. 

“I love you as well, child of man. More than you could ever imagine.”

Lilia Vanrouge

As silly and carefree as he was, Lilia wasn’t ready to love again. He had his family, and that was all he cared for. So when he found himself messing with you more, missing when you weren’t around, wanting to cook for you (rip #3), he felt scared. Love never went well for him, it was almost like he was cursed, and those he cared for were ripped away from him. Yet you were so sweet, trying his food and trying to give him pointers on how he could improve. The cute scared face you made when he popped out of nowhere. Gosh you made it so easy to love, it was honestly unfair. He was supposed to be the cute one! You can’t go stealing his title! You also found it a struggle to love Lilia. You knew he was older than time itself (💀), and honestly you felt a bit weird for falling for him. I mean, you were so much younger, and he was a fae. It just seemed like a lot, so you kept your feelings to yourself. That was until one night, Lilia was tucking you in since you fell asleep on him, and you muttered those cursed words as you drifted off. He actually avoided you for a few weeks after that, and you felt embarrassed that you slipped. It wasn’t until he could no longer avoid you, missing you too much and having thought it through enough.

“I hope you understand the weight of your words, after all, us fae stay with our partner for life.”

Silver Vanrouge

He is so easy to get along with. He’s always looking out for you, offering you snacks when you're hungry and handing you water when you haven’t drank any yet. While he does find himself dozing off a lot, he appreciates when you try to poke him awake or go over the material he slept through. No one even questions your status, they just assume you're together with how lovey dovey you both act. He’s fallen asleep on your shoulder more times than he can count, his soft hair tickling your neck. He’d apologize when waking up, but you were too entranced by not only his beauty but the cute animals that now surrounded you both. Not to mention the way your heart would pitter patter as he would promise to defend you, his shining eyes showing complete seriousness. You had whispered your love for him when he was sleeping, gently playing with his hair. You thought he wouldn’t hear, but boy were you wrong. His soft eyes blinked open sleepily, a small smile tugging at his lips.

“Am I dreaming? I hope I’m not, because I love you too.”

Sebek Zigvolt

Another tsundere ass. He gets overwhelmed by his feelings for you so often I’m surprised your eardrums aren’t permanently damaged from his constant yelling. It was confusing for him because the only other person he felt a somewhat similar feeling towards was Malleus Draconia, and you were nowhere near the level of the future king of Briar Valley. He’d take his strange feelings out on you, inadvertently pushing you away. Thank the sevens for Lilia (or not) because the bat fae would always have something to say about Sebek when he’d see you. “Have you heard of how brave Sebek was?” “Have you seen how cute he is when his face turns red?” Thankfully, Sebek got used to the pitter patter he felt when you smiled at him, no longer scolding you for…smiling? Another one that you learn tends to project. He’s degrading you for being human? Well he’s half human too, so he probably feels the same about himself more than you. Which causes you to try and compliment him more…which leads to him shouting, cycle repeats. I hope you brought ear plugs, cus the moment you spilled your guts, the soft atmosphere turned harsh. His face lit up red as his shoulders rose to his ears, be prepared for a flustered, shouting croc.

“C-cease your tempting words human! I-I only have eyes for Waka-sama! I have no time for foolish endeavors that will ruin my position! W-wait, don’t l-leave! I n-never said I didn’t f-feel the s-same!”

[deadsetobsessions]

I just really like the trope of Danny getting summoned, alright?

——

After he shoved Pariah Dark in his coffin shaped locker what what Danny hoped to be for all of eternity, the half unfortunately inherited all of Pariah’s responsibilities.

“What was it again? With great powers comes great responsibilities?” Danny let his head hit the table with an audible thunk. He’s in his “office,” the ghost zone’s approximation of where he might be able to do work seriously. The house- the extension of his haunt- had added the room right next to his bedroom. Danny had to lift all of the paperwork from Pariah’s castle (that’s now also a part of what’s considered Danny’s but he doesn’t think about that) and move it to his main haunt.

He prayed to the universe at large to let him off. Danny hated doing homework- science not withstanding because at least he understood that- let alone an asshole’s centuries worth of work. Danny bemoaned the fact that he was elected the King. He didn’t even defeat Pariah all by himself, so why couldn’t the others do it?!

Like a wave of merciful fate, the beginning tugs of a summoning pulled at his core.

“Thank Ancients!”

Danny scrambled to grab a sticky note, unfortunately glowing green as things tended to in the Ghost Zone, and scribbled down that he’s been summoned and to not look for him until his vacation work was done.

With that note done, Danny decided to bring his A game to the summoning. Allowing his secondary form to wash over him, Danny quickly checked the mirror to make sure he was presentable. A bright glowing ice crown- not the crown of fire, because it was essentially useless without the ring and Danny wasn’t keen on being a king, let alone a near infinitely powerful one- settled across his brow showed his status. A cape, this form’s best feature, made of an expanse of galaxies, nebulae, and frost cling at the end was swept over his shoulders and pinned together with a cloak pin made of clusters of black holes.

A couple of additions to his normal hazmat suit and his trusty thermos at his side, Danny all but dove into the summoning magic with an excited whoop of glee.

As Danny got closer to the magic-made portal, he could hear the whispers of the living presences beyond it.

His summoners! Hopefully it’s not a cult again, even if he thought they were pretty funny trying to summon the king of the dead to kill more people. Not funny “haha,” funny weird.

How should he do this…? Scary? Funny? Oh! Or maybe he should ditch the crown!

Danny grinned, waving his hand to dispel the crown of ice. It was nice, but he was in a dungeon critter mood today.

“Oh, this is going to be gooood.”

Danny cracked his knuckles and put on the most dead-inside-and-outside expression he could manage, modeling it off of the Nasty Burger workers during closing shift. The halfa stepped through the portal.

——

“The ritual is completed! You will all face the might of Pariah Dark, the eternal king of the dead!” The villain of the week cackled as his cult cheered. Wonder Woman, scuffed and injured from the magical bolts these magic users had shot at her earlier, grimaced and raised her sword.

“We will defeat Pariah Dark,” she proclaimed. Her allies rallied at her proclamation and readied themselves for another fight. “This world will not bow to the likes of you!”

“We are all but mere ants before the king of the dead! Pariah Dark will bring forth the reckoning this shitty world deserves!”

“Actually, Pariah Dark’s kind of busy, so you’re gonna have to leave a message.”

Green Arrow’s arrow jerked towards the new voice. Batman paused, hand holding batarangs at the ready. He, out of all of them, knew better than to underestimate a young voice.

A gloved hand shoved through the green portal, using the edges like a door frame to heave itself through. A humanoid shape, with sharp ears all but crawled out of the Lazarus green portal. Batman wondered if this was what Jason saw when he came back to life.

"Lord Pariah Dark is busy?!"

The figure- a boyish not-human- heaved a sigh. "Do you people seriously think that the High King of the Infinite Realms isn't swamped with work?"

"And who are you supposed to be? His secretary?" Hal asked, Ring glowing and at the ready. Wonder Woman tensed and mentally struck Hal away from the list of people to consider for diplomatic missions.

"Me? I'm a glorified paper pusher." The being turned back to the cultists, his cape containing the universe swished behind him. "Did you have a message for Pariah Dark?"

"He was meant to rain down death and destruction!"

"Okay, first of all, I feel like you guys are missing a really important point." The being pointed at the cult leader. “It’s not called the King of the Dead for no reason, you know. Death comes for everyone eventually. Also, I have to do a seriously giant amount of paperwork every time one of you fruitloops gets the bright idea to cause an influx of deaths.”

Danny stomped across the circle, grabbed the collar of the cultist leader’s cloak and yanked him down. He shook him. “Do you people have any idea how annoying it is?! Huh?! Do you know how long the A-354 Form is?! Stop trying to get Pariah to kill people! I’m sick of the paperwork, dammit!”

"How- how did you get out of the circle?!"

The cultists and the heroes squared up, ready to fight the possible common enemy: Danny.

Danny is having the best time of his half life. Screw kingly dignity, Danny’s gotta de-stress somehow! He had a whole bag of complaints!

"You wrote the circle wrong, idiots! Ancients, are you people even literate? What even are those scribbles?" Danny kept shaking the cultist. Wow, what an amazing stress ball!

“Uh- hey, he looks kind of sick…” The Flash said, trying to be a good hero and mediate before escalating. Danny snarled and Flash held up his hands, gulping in fear as Danny’s eyes narrowed at him. “Did I… do something?”

“You,” Danny hissed. “You mother- fruitloop! Stop screwing with the timeline, you giant red-! Do you know how annoying it is to readjust the death count every time one of you little merry red jesters takes a jaunt through time and space?! Do you even know how many complaints I had to field?! Oh, boy you’re all going to regret summoning me today, because I’ve had a long time to think about what I’d do to everyone who made me work overtime!”

Danny bared his teeth, eyes sparkling with mirth as he froze the cultists.

"We're not letting you take over the world," Hawk-Woman said, raising her mace that pulsed with electricity.

Danny snorted to hide his wince. "I'm not interested. Just let me punch him once. Just once." Danny pointed at the Flash.

"Honestly, I can't even blame you," Black Canary muttered, fists raised.

"Wha-! Canary! That's so rude! You traitor!"

"Shouldn't have put skittles in my shoes then. Those hurt, Flash."

"Enough." Everyone shut up at the sound of Batman's command. "What do you mean they wrote the circle wrong."

Danny, who was watching the byplay with interest, shrugged. "They wanted to summon the Ghost King, right? We've had a... change of leaders recently."

"Who is the leader now?"

Danny waggled a finger at Batman. "Nuh-uh. I'm gonna collect my over-time compensation, which is punching the Flash, and then we can negotiate for information."

"Flash."

"I don't want to get punched, Bats!"

"The alternative is that I let the current Ghost King have a go at you."

"Flash."

"Oh my god, just get punched, Barry!" Danny heard Green Lantern Hal Jordan whisper.

"Ugh, fine. No one video this."

Immediately, three phones go up to record the Flash getting decked by a teenage looking ghost. Danny floated closer and wound his fist back, letting loose some of the ghost strength he normally keeps restrained. "This is for my overtime and for Clockwork, you jerk."

The halfa slammed his fist straight into the Flash's face, knocking him clear into the air. Superman catches him but Danny no longer paid attention to the Flash, petty vengeance enacted.

"Honestly, I don't have a problem with you as a person. You're kind of cool. Break the timeline again in the next three months, though, and you're on my shit-list."

"What do you want in exchange for information?"

Danny hummed. "Depending on the level of information, and I reserve the right to not answer any questions. For the name of the current Ghost King..."

He did want that new gaming console. And Jazz could use some help with her rent.

"I want $5,000 and a plate of really good spaghetti."

"I have cash."

Danny nodded at the Dark Knight. "You just carry $5,000 in cash on you? Who does that?"

"I like to be prepared."

"And he's rich," Superman chimed in.

The Flash reappeared with a plate of spaghetti from an Italian place he teleported to. "Here you go. Fresh, and pleasedon'tscrewwithmyafterlife."

Danny shoveled the spaghetti into his mouth, jaw unhinging like a particularly disturbing snake right before he dumped the whole thing- plate and all- down his throat. "Thanks! The food didn't even try to kill me this time! You're good."

"Does your food try to kill you all of the time?!" The Flash- Barry, apparently- asked.

Danny nodded as he took the cash from Batman's gloved hands. "Totally. It sucks."

"Identity." Batman demanded.

"Oh, yeah. The current ghost king is me."

"...What."

"You have been swindled. Bamboozled. Outwitted and outsmarted," Danny snickered, shoving the bundle of cash in his chest. "But seriously, I'm the king. We got rid of Pariah a while ago."

The crown of ice materialized.

"You said you were a glorified paper pusher!" Hawk-Woman chortled.

"I am! I'm pushing so many papers across my desk, it's unending, I swear!"

Batman growled. "You tricked us."

Danny smirked, "You got tricked." Red Robin, in the corner, snorted quietly. "Anyways, if you've got more interesting things around here, I'll considering busying myself with that instead of sentencing you to an afterlife of paperwork."

The adults straightened, grimacing. "Beast Boy is green," Hal offered up.

"Hey!" Beast Boy shouted, offended at the easy way Hal offered him up. He turned to Danny. "But have you ever seen a green chinchilla? Super cute. Watch!"

"Woah!" Danny clapped. Yes, he'll hang out with them before dragging himself back.

[devil-in-hiding]

Duuuuuuuude I just have to say that I just went on the most awkward first date. Like this guy asked ME on the date. I get there, he doesn’t even open the door for me, he doesn’t pay for my ice cream (which like I get that I’m an independent woman and everything but like it’s just chivalry idk) and just also he barely talked to me, I was the only one asking getting to know you questions or otherwise we just sat there is complete silence. Also he like stared at me the whole time and it was super uncomfortable. So I was just thinking like assistant reader telling the 141 guys about something like that and all of them boasting like “I’d treat you way better” and stuff like that

Please this has assistant!reader all over it i love

Coming into the base the morning after a h o r r i b l e date, absolutely horrific. Sitting at your desk with a pout on your lips, typing away at some mission report Price had asked you to review for him, when you hear the heavy fall of boots stop next to you.

“Lieutenant.” You greet, voice short and you can see Ghost frown at you. “Wha’s the matter with you?” He questions, crossing his arms over his chest, and you could just see the raised eyebrow.

You don’t meet his eye, fiddling with your fingers before he’s flicking you between the eyes with a sigh, pulling away before you can slap his hand. “I asked ya a question.”

“Do I look like one of your runts?” You snap, only to let out a shrill squeal when he grips the arms of your chair and yanks you up to him, bending down so he’s almost nose to nose with you.

“Spit it out.”

“Am I boring?” You blurt, and for the first time in the two years you have worked for Price (by extension, his team), you see a genuine look of surprise in his eyes.

“The hell you mean ‘borin’?” Ghost tilts his head, eyes narrowing and you fidget in your chair, this is the LAST man you’d have thought you’d be having this conversation with. “It’s just… I went on a god awful date last night and he made me feel like I was the most boring person on the planet. He just kept staring at me, like a staring contest. I kept trying to get to know him but he just kept shrugging, I don’t think he spoke three words and it was so fucking uncomfortable Simon.” You’re embarrassed at the tears brimming your eyes, rubbing at your eyes with the palm of your hand, sniffling.

You chance a glance at his face, and you can see the look of annoyance in his eyes, and you curl in on yourself. “Sorry, I-“

“What kind of daft cunt ruins a chance with you?” He scoffs, and your eyes widen but Simon just keeps on. “I mean, really love, where the hell did this man even take ya?”

“Ice cream…” You reply weakly and Simon lets out an honest to god snort, shaking his head. “You don’t even like ice cream that much, I woulda taken ya to that little bake shop around the corner that you love so much.” He huffs, and your heart flutters, heat crawling up your neck. “How-“

“And you are not borin’, if you have failed to notice, you bring a certain… warmth to these cold bastards.” He nods towards Price’s office, his eyes crinkling around the corners and you feel your own smile tugging your lips.

“Really?” Your voice is small, but Simon just leans a little closer, and you swear his eyes dart down to your lips.

“Why dontcha let me take ya out properly, yeah?”

[prettyboykatsuki]

chewtoy | s. gojo

✮ tags ; dead dove: do not eat, noncon, humiliation, abuse of power / power imbalance, master / servant relationship, titles like master satoru, he's being Really Fucking Weird (sniffs u a bunch...rip), oral(f!receiving) 18+

✮ wc ; 2k (????)

✮ a/n ; horrible horrible man. can he leave me alone. extension of this

"The young Master is calling for you."

You try not to flinch. Aiko gives you a warm, summery smile and a soft nudge to your side. You can only assume this means you've succeeded and she doesn't sense your disgust.

"He's so fond of you," She ends her sentence with a wispy sigh. "Must be nice to have a rich, powerful man fawn over you a bit, right?"

You remain indifferent. She smiles again. You think she is infinitely more beautiful than you. Soft, bouncy hair and smooth skin. Her naive nature makes her shine brighter than one thousand suns. It'd be nice if the young Master showed interest in someone like her.

You put the dream to rest quickly.

"You shouldn't keep him waiting," She hums. It's so innocent. "Go on, don't let me keep you."

You don't tell her you wish she would keep you. She is also right that you should not keep him waiting. If he's summoned you to his chambers deliberately, that means he is already feeling impatient. Master Satoru never seeks you out unless he is in some kind of mood.

He's had this habit since childhood. You've never made him aware of it, and you don't plan too. One of the few things you help you know what to expect from him.

You nod her along, tell her to finish up work in the living quarters to which she agrees merrily. Her spirits are lifted by the prospect of the young Master showing you fondness. Some part of you wishes you could share in her joy.

A pit of dread makes your steps heavy, but your footfall is light and beautiful. You are poised and cool as you walk along the dark, dreary hallways that lead to the Master's office.

A door swallowed in shadow, a single light shining on the golden plaque with the young Master's full name. You knock twice, announcing yourself.

"You're here," He says. You try not to flinch. You're certain you do not succeed. You are thankful he cannot see you - or you hope he can't. "Come in,"

You open the door and step inside to his office - shutting the door behind you. Muscle memory guides you to your curtsy. You bow politely.

"Yes, Master?"

"So stuffy," His voice makes your chest feel tight with discomfort. Frustration ebbs underneath it, cuts like a jagged edged knife. "At least call me, Satoru. Our relationship is much better than that, I thought."

"I could never be so informal to the young Master," You say, and then concede. "But I will call you Master Satoru, if you wish."

"How obstinate," He drawls. You do not life your head to see the face he makes. You already know what it looks like. It's burned into your mind. "But I suppose I'll make do. Lift your head."

You lift your head, but do not look at his face.

"Come closer,"

You step towards him, your lungs pushing air out of you manually. Remembering to breathe evenly is a herculean task. He beckons you closer until you're within distance of his touch.

He glances at you. "Look at me."

You try not to hesitate and force your eyes forward. His eyes undress you. Pointed gaze falls along your features, outlines your every inch, and analyzes your face. You remain even. He hums.

His frivolity is missing. This is suddenly more frightening. His mood is worse than you thought.

"Lift your skirt,"

Your muscles tense as you try not to shake. You succeed. He lets out a soft breath before he drops down onto his knees. You do not let yourself make any sort of expression, averting your gaze. He stares long and hard at your clothed pussy.

You tremble. He assess you silently, eyes flitting up.

"Sit in my chair with your skirt over your waist. So I can see you properly and all."

You listen to his instructions mindlessly. The velvet of his chair and warmth of his remaining body heat touch your bare ass and thighs. Satoru turns to you, still on knees. His hand wraps around your ankles and slips your shoes off of you.

You close your eyes. Sudden intimacy makes you slink back.

"Look at me."

It is is a command. You let your gaze fall on him again and watch on in excruciating nausea. Your stomach twists violently at the fragility of it all. Slender fingers hook into your knee socks and pull them down along your calve until they're off. His gaze catches yours. He does not smile at you. His hand comes around your ankle again and lifts your leg closer to his face. His nose presses against the bend of your foot.

He inhales. You try not to react but you can feel your eyes go wide. Feel your muscles clench, your heart sinking. Iron fills your mouth.

He lets his nose nudge up against the top of your calf.

"Young Master,"

He stares at you. Irritation flits through his gaze. There's no getting out of this, no mercy. You slink back again. He does smile that time.

Your body prickles with unwanted heat at the sensation. He licks along your legs, biting the supple skin - huffing the scent of your sweat every time he goes along. His teeth sink perversely into your flesh, sucking until there's throbbing, marks against your calves. The color of an orchid, purple and red. Fear strikes in you like a match. His grip on your ankles moves to the back of your calves and squeezes tight. He repeats the process on both calves intently.

There's claim to this. You know this part of him. He is claiming you with vicious confidence. Something with deeper magnitude then lust. For you, he is desire and ownership and want incarnat. A testament of his own beliefs. You willfully do no make noise aside from a gasp or breath.

You don't know how long it takes until he's satisfied with the state both legs.

He moves up. Bites the soft flesh of your thigh. You nearly spit out another useless plea. Shamelessness makes up his every move. His tongue slides over every single inch of your bare skin until his noses brushes along your cunt.

He doesn't lick you there. Not right away. Again he sniffs, breathes you in deep and uncomfortable. It's violating in all senses of the word, his grip tightening on your thighs as he huffs your scent. You haven't bathed. You've practically been running around since morning, but he doesn't let up and breathes you in anyway.

You squirm at that point. Your face contorts so slightly and he's watching you for it. His face finally cracks a smile and abject dread makes your spine lock up.

"Mm," He emphasizes the sound. It's so loud in such a quiet room. "That's it."

You don't have the strength to say anything.

It's frighteningly abrupt and rough, the feeling of his mouth along your pussy. He sucks at your clit from outside the fabric and you gasp - suddenly helpless. It's not the first time, of course not. But it's never this... random. Never this rough.

Your back arches at the sudden motion, face breaking - and Satoru grips you tighter and forces you back into the chair. Forces his tongue against your clit and sucks hard through the cotton material. Your body betrays you in its reaction - nipples pebbling underneath your clothes. Nearly screaming from the sensitivity. Your lower body is all ache - hickeys and bruises and bite marks making you throb perpetually. Too much, too much, too much.

Shame floods your system as the first spike of arousal forces itself from you - your cunt floods, gushing with a sudden spike of want from rough treatment. The sound of him sucking you so hard and drenching it with his saliva echoes across the room. You're sure it's traveling into the hall.

"Master Satoru," Your voice is even but it cracks on his name. Tears form at the corners of your eyes - fear and shame mixing into desperation. "Satoru,"

He hums into your pussy and you shake. "What is it? What wish would you like your master to fulfill for you.

"Please," Your voice is hoarse. Bone-deep exhaustion is out done by adrenaline. "Not through the fabric, please. It's dirty."

He sucks again and you keen - nails digging into your palms as you throw your head back.

"Your Masters spit soaking your panties is dirty? How rude." He teases. The whimper leaves your mouth without permission. You wish this would end soon but even amidst your fog you know that is not more than a pipe dream.

He takes them off. Rolls them down your thighs all wet and drops them. You let out a sigh of relief before his nose bridges touches your clit again. Swallowing the sound, you look away.

"It's soaked," He says conversationally, "Your needy little cunt is making a mess of your Master's chair. Tsk, tsk - so shameful."

"I'm sorry," You croak, unsure of what else to say. "I'll clean it."

He laughs, seemingly alleviated from his prior upset at the state of your humiliation.

"I'm sure you'll do an excellent job," He rests his hand over the mound of your sex - using pointer and thumb to spread your lips apart and get view of your swollen little clit. He breathes on it. "But you're still begging me for my attention down here. Filthy pussy for such a meticulous maid. Do you know how wet you are? Did you miss me so much?"

You don't answer him. He goes on.

"I thought of you all week," His voice is soft. Tinged with affection, or something like it. "Ahh, dealing with higher ups is such a pain."

You stare at him. He looks back at you with a smile. You flinch. You flinch certainly. "But I can always take it out on you, can't I? This perfect, filthy, needy cunt. It'll only every belong to me and I get to use it to my hearts content. I thought of that suddenly then called you."

It's not just your cunt he's interested in. That'd be relieving if that were the case. If he only ever used you to vent his sexual frustrations, treat you like a personal cocksleeve. You think it might be better that way.

He's too fond of you for that.

The young Master treats you like a chew toy instead. He bites, licks, slobbers, and misuses you. He might hump you to chase his high from time to time, might throw you around for rough sex should the mood suit him. But he's not a clueless oaf, some classless barbarian who only feels pleasure from his cock.

His violation is something else. It's deeper in scent, richer in taste. It is born from his greatness.

He's smart enough to know exploitation and that's what gets him off most. He exploits you. Exploits your reactive body, exploits your stoicism, exploits your dedication to your duty. You're his chew toy because you are designed to be unbreakable. You are indestructible.

But you have the perfect amount of give. You flinch, sigh, and whimper enough to make your Master thrilled. You squeak and moan like you're heat addled when he plays with you enough.

To Satoru, you're the most perfect thing to ever grace his life. His favorite toy that he's bitten at since he was just a boy and grew so fond of.

No matter how much you end up in tatters, Satoru can't help but love you with all of his heart.

You get exhausted being thrown around. But you can't go anywhere, either. He's so watchful of you. He might go crazy and bite if you were to disappear.

"Cum for me," He says, sucking on your clit much more softly. He's gentle but exact. Knows the ins and outs of your body enough to send you racing towards the edge with an unimaginable speed. You gasp and shudder, holding onto his chair for your life as an orgasm shoots through like lightning through a telephone wire.

You cum. You cum hard, bruised and mind-broken and nauseous and you cum so hard something spurts out of you and makes the chair wet. The young Master is nonplussed of course, and laps it up like a dog drinking water.

"Ahh, much better." He's pleased as he stands up and then bends down to your height. His hand cradles the back of your neck with a pleasant sigh as he forces a cum-soaked kiss onto your mouth. "Just as I thought, you were just what I needed."

Utterly defeated, you pull away with a gasp. "...I'm happy to serve you, Master Satoru."

"Such a nice sentence from your mouth, true or not." He gives you one more kiss, to the crown of your head. Too tender, too raw. "Prepare yourself to service me a bit more, then."

[taraljc]

Frustrated, angry, horrified, and unsure of how to proceed after learning a favourite author is not who you think they were?

You are not without means to help! Fandom gave Neil Gaiman the celebrity that he then weaponised against vulnerable people. We gave it to him; we can help take it away.

THINGS WE CAN DO AS INDIVIDUALS

Repost articles and transcripts as they appear in the trades and the mainstream press, and tag them with the appropriate trigger warnings and content warnings.

Keep amplifying the voices of the survivors, and showing up with compassion and empathy and support for the untold numbers who have yet to come forward.

Keep talking about the allegations of abuse and sexual assault levelled at Neil Gaiman. Do not let it fade into the background, or be drowned out by vigorous promotion of his upcoming works. Boost the signal, particularly to raise awareness across fandoms so fans can do their best to protect themselves from potential abuse in the future.

Make donations to RAINN and The Survivors Trust, and find out what you can do on a local level to support survivors of sexual assault and abuse.

Do not tag fan works such as fanfic, fan art, quotes, gifsets, and meta discussions about Gaiman's work or live-action adaptations of Gaiman's work with #Neil Gaiman so that you are not doing the expensive PR team's work for them by helping to bury the story of Neil Gaiman's abuse of vulnerable women on social media.

Do not bully Neil Gaiman's peers in the industry, friends and family, or actors currently involved in live action adaptations of his work for not immediately making any kind of public statements.

Do not bully fellow fans. Everyone is working through their very complex feelings and relationships with both the text and the man at their own speed. Please give them the space to grieve that loss, but continue to center the stories of the survivors and express sympathy and empathy for all of the survivors who have yet to come forward.

As others have noted, The Tortoise Media Slow News podcast that initially broke the story is run by a group of well-respected journalists, and Ms Johnson is not a full-time member of the staff but was only given a shared byline on the story because one of the survivors contacted her privately which is what kicked off the year long investigation.

Filter out noise such as kink-shaming, anti-BDSM discourse, and other editorial comments and instead focus on the actual words of survivors recounting their experiences.

Remember that despite using the language of BDSM, what the survivors have recounted is in fact examples of coercive control and abuse cloaked in the language of kink. It's very important to note that BDSM nearly always includes extensive negotiation of consent to specific acts and partners check in with one another constantly, establish safe words, and engage in aftercare. That is absolutely not what was described by the survivors thus far.

Sexual assault is not about sex so much as it is about power. In every instance reported thus far, the common thread has been predatory behaviour toward vulnerable women. In more than one case, women who were employed in Neil Gaiman's households and were reliant on him for their housing and livelihood.

Do not guilt trip or shame people who are attempting to separate the art from the artist. allow people to love what they love about the novels, comics, and media adaptations, value the friendships that they have made because of them, and keep the joy that those projects brought them. Do not let Neil Gaiman's behaviour rob generations of fans of the stories that meant so much to them. he has already taken so much from so many; don't help him take more from yourself or others then he already has.

Do not invite him as a guest speaker to your events, a guest of honour at your conventions, or a guest lecturer at your institutions. without jeopardizing the financial future of your institution or theater, do not book speaking tours, book signings, launch parties, etc. as these events have proved to be a fertile hunting ground and provide ongoing income directly to Neil Gaiman.