#His size can be a really good natural tool with it but if you call the bluff he won't back it up | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

the-cat-and-the-birdie · 4 months

Text

Can we give it up for guys with hair like Hobie please?

Can we get a round of applause for the black men in the chat with freeform locs? Or unkempt dreads? Or thick unlocked afros?

Because there's something we need to talk about -

Hobie's Hair: Representation, Reality, and Internalized Racism within Fandom

Here we are again - an essay about Hobie and racism. But this time - it's not coming from outside the house. Oh no, no no no.

The racism is coming from inside the house.

We need to talk about Hobies hair, how we treat black hair as a community, and the deep internalized racism that is revealed when Hobies hair is brought to reality.

[A LONGish essay about Hobie, Race, Hair, and the HEAVY internalized racism towards 4C hair. This essay doesn't explain much about black hair, but it's more a conversation of self-hate and representation]

Like Hobies hair is beautiful and it's genuinely heartbreaking to see so many people in the fandom be like 'yeah I love his hair but I could never date an actual guy with hair like that'

Or cringing at guys with nappy hair, or overall speaking about how off-putting their hair is.

Hobies hair is beautiful, but the amount of people that like it in canon - and only canon - is too high.

They'll say that for some reason, when it comes to real freeform locs - they can't find it attractive. That they for some reason, they still have the idea that people with freeform locs don't - or even can't, wash their hair, even if they know that's not true.

And like.. come on, guys. Come on.

There are actual black men with hair like that. There are HOBIE COSPLAYERS with hair like that.

and they're in the fandom too.

In fact, I'd say a good majority of black men have hair like Hobie - we're just forced to shave it off.

For us, anything longer than a high top that isn't an afro with nice defined curles is considered unruly, unkepted, or outright dirty.

People will just straight up call it dirty or say they don't wash their hair.

Just because their hair looks weird.

Because really that's all it is. It LOOKS WEIRD. And because it looks weird - and because it's something inherently exclusive to black people, it's admonished as being disgusting or ugly.

White men are able to roll out of bed 365 days a year and take a shower, leaving the house with barely even any hair gel.

That's considered normal, average. Boring even.

A black man rolls out of bed the same 365 days, washes his hair the same way, and leaves the house - and he's unkempt.

Why? Because his hair naturally locs up.

And because it locks up, it looks weird, and since it looks weird it's inappropriate for the workplace, it's unattractive, eww do they even wash it?

It's so SAD. Like genuinely sad. Especially in the Hobie fandom.

I think it needs to be highlighted that Hobies hair AREN'T wicks. Wicks are formed using tools. Wicks are locs - but they're manipulated locs. They take styling to look that way.

HOBIES HAIR is freeform. As in, that's just how it grows from it head. That's not a hairstyle like hair spikes, or Gwen's undercut.

That's just his hair.

And it's the only hair type on earth that's ubiquitously known as ugly.

So ugly in fact that men who have it are encouraged to either 1) shave it and maintain that shave at risk of ridicule or 2) invest lots of money and time into maintaining a detangled manicured afro of 'reasonable' size and shape or 3) get it braided and maintain those braids at risk of ridicule- you see where I'm going with this.

For people like me and Hobies, those with 4C hair: We're told quite early, even by the black people around us, that our hair as it is is unpresentable.

We're expected to manipulate and manage our hair every day of our lives, because if we don't, even for a week or two - we're suddenly 'unpresentable', unemployable, and straight up unattractive. Even the sight of our new growth is a sign we need to 'get our hair done'.

For us, hair growth isn't exciting. It's just anther reminder we need to go back to the salon or barbers.

And y'all - it's EXHAUSTING. Physically and mentally exhausting.

That's why Hobie has hair like that.

Because it's exhausting, it's unfair. And it's accepted. Even in this fandom.

Hobie does it because it's not right.

He, as a person, understands that he has a right to exist anywhere he pleases - in his entirety, regardless of how disruptive you see him.

Hobie wears his freeform hair because he doesn't want to physically manipulate his hair - and he doesn't want society to manipulate his hair either.

It's a noble cause.

And you know what, the dudes you see with hair like this - the ones you think might be dirty or ugly - they're wearing it for THE SAME REASON.

The reason men like The Weeknd and Jay-Z chose to wear their hair this way is because they are literally the only black men in society who can wear their hair like that and still keep a job. I'm so serious.

If you are a black man, or a black person in general - you better have 'fuck you' amounts of money if you'd like to have freeform locs.

Because your chances of getting a job hit the floor. The number of people interested in dating you - or even seeing you as attractive, drops like 95%.

All because your natural hair is visible to other people.

And they find that so distracting or so unattractive that it calls your very hygiene - or housing status - into question. (Yes, I have heard people say that they suspect men with freeform hair are wearing it only because they are homeless.)

And now that we have a character like Hobie - this attitude, one that we're all taught, is something we have to face head-on.

Because it fucking SUCKS to be told all your life that your hair is ugly and inherently more dirty than all others to the point that the only option is it's rigorous rearrangement or straight up removal.

And then you get a character like Hobie Brown, such good representation!!!

Only to turn around and see the fandom going 'Yeah, Hobies hot. But guys with hair ACTUALLY like that? Uhhh, no thanks. Sorry, I'll pass. Respectfully, no.'

And you wanna know the most fucked up thing about it? Huh!?

A large portion of the black people - black women in specific - who say they don't find freeform hair attractive, or hair like Hobies attractive -

THEY HAVE HAIR LIKE HOBIES TOO.

So many of y'all who say this would absolutely have hair like Hobies if you didn't detangle it.

The statement in itself - age the critique of freeform hair - is one of self-hate.

So many of the women I see say this have 4c hair themselves.

But because of the stigma and discrimination we received as children, many of us don't even know what our hair looks like unpermed, undamaged, without being detangled once a week.

If you are a black woman and you wouldn't date a guy with hair like this, please candidly ask yourself:

If you didn't detangled your hair for a year - would your hair look like Hobies?

Because I'm pretty sure for a good deal of y'all the answer is yes.

For the majority of us, if we didn't detangle, decondition, oil, cut, or shave our heads - if all we did was wash or hair - we'd have hair like Hobies.

It would stick out and stand up and clump together and that's FINE.

In fact, it's better for your hair.

Ever wonder why we have to moisturize and detangle and condition and use oil treatments and-

Because our hair naturally wants to loc. When it locs like Hobies hair, the oils from the root of your scalp can coat the strands easier, like a rope sucking up water.

A single piece of string can't move or suck up much water. But a thick thick rope can.

Just the same, when your hair is detangled - it's hard for the hair to move or suck up the oil. So it sits on the scalp and builds up. Like a single string.

When your hair is loced, the oils can move from your scalp down (or rather for us, UP) your hair way easier. Like a rope sucking it up.

Making your scalp cleaner, your hair more moisturised and overall more healthy.

At that point, you don't NEED conditioner. Or oil. Or aloe or whatever the hell the beauty supply got.

You just need to wash it, and your locs help regulate your hair. The help keep your oil production even and your hair moisturized.

Because your hair can self regulate. Just like everyone else's.

I'm learning this myself. As someone who just started their semi-freeform locs a couple months ago: My hair is as clean and as soft as it's ever been in my life.

My whole life I thought my hair was oily as fuck.

If I breathed too hard I'd get build up. Parting my hair physically hurt and almost ever hair style I ever tried was sensory hell. I'd shaved my head 8 years back and have kept it low for that long, simply because dealing with my actual hair was too tedious and painful.

And so I went freeform - because of Hobie.

For the past three months the only thing I've put in my hair is water and shampoo.

Maybe a little salt water if I wanna tighten up the locs a bit. But nothing else.

My hair is cleaner.

It's completely conditioned.

The curls found their own pattern and loced up without me even needing to part my hair. Like my head knew where each loc was gonna go.

Honestly, I barely worry about it anymore. In fact, if I don't touch my hair every other day or so, just lightly touching each loc end - the locs would combine more, getting thicker, and then I'd REALLY have hair like Hobies.

And my hair looks a fucking mess.

That's the hardest part now - not dealing with my hair. Dealing with people who see my hair.

I've learned idea that locs are inherently more dirty or harder to clean is actually the opposite of reality.

Detangled hair is absolutely harder to clean and maintain.

The reason detangled hair takes so long to manage is because you strip the oils off the scalp because it can't get down the strands of hair. Since every strand is separated, the oil just sticks to the scalp. So you wash it out.

But now that you've got no oil your hair and scalp is dry so now you need conditioner. But conditioner isn't enough. You need oil. But oil can cause buildup too so maybe use pink gel. But pink gel is too processed so do a hair mask- ETC ETC ETC for forever and ever and ever.

All because we are always, without break, fighting against our hairs natural instinct to loc.

Why? Because it looks weird. Because we are so used to constantly treating and cleaning and managing our hair that a lot of us genuinely believe that if we were to stop for even a month our hair would become ratty, smelly, matted messes no matter how much we showered.

At least that's what I believed.

But if we let ourselves and our hair be - in reality, both us and our hair becomes stronger, more healthy, and less stressed.

That's why so many people call it a Locs JOURNEY. Cause it truly is a journey of self-care, and unlearning self-admonishing ideas about our bodies and hair.

We as black people - like everyone on this Earth - have hair genetically evolved to manage itself on a reasonable level.

The amount of labor and thought that black people are required to put into their hair on top of that - even when it's 'NATURAL' - is not reasonable.

That's why there will be people in the natural hair community, with natural hair - who still think freeforms are ugly and nasty because they themselves choose to detangle and condition and the works to their hair. Even people with manicured locs believe this.

Because there is the believe that healthy black hair = lots of black labor. And they value natural hairstyles that require more labor.

Many don't believe that black people can have natural and healthy hair with minimal work - just like every other race.

But it's true. It's just so happens that when it does, it 'looks weird'.

And when it comes to Hobie - it kills me to see this.

To see people consuming Hobies messages of punk and politics, but never of race. His racial solidarity and displays of blackness.

Even us as a black community.

GAH sometimes I feel like he'd hear the stuff some people say about freeforms and be like

Hell, Hobie would hear that shit ALL THE TIME.

I imagine it really really hurts to see a character that represents a part of you often demonized and discredited - only to turn around and see the fans of said character still think what he's representating is nice in theory, but ugly in practice.

Especially if you're say.. A Hobie cosplayer.

Hobie wears his hair that way because it's his hair - it's not a hairstyle - is anything it's the opposite. And it has a right to exist.

That's the reason why Rastafarians wear locs - freeform locs. Not because they're hippies. Because they love the black form and allow their bodies to grow and manifest in the world without unnecessary manipulation from outside forces - including themselves.

Their hair is their hair. And it has the right to exist as much as any other part of their body.

For Hobie and the real-life men and women who have this hair it's a concious social risk that effects almost every aspect of their life from work to romance, friendships, who will sit next you on the bus and who'll avoid the hell outta you for no reason.

And they do it out of love for themselves and the beauty of black hair.

And because of that, they are considered less attractive, less clean, less 'normal'.

To black people with freeform hair I love you. To the black people with hair like Hobies: Your hair isn't ugly. You aren't dirty.

You're resilient and confident as hell and the realest mfers on earth.

If you're considering getting locs or going freeform. Do it. Absolutely do it. If you want proof you can be cute as hell with freeforms check out this YouTuber named DomiBoy.

He makes videos documenting his locs journey. He has Congos, which are very very similar to freeform. He makes great videos plus he's adorable and funny okay

If you're a black person without locs or freeforms, please - question what your hair would look like if you didn't manipulate it.

Have you ever gone a period in your life where you haven't detangled, conditioned, parted, braided, gelled, permed your hair etc?

What do you think it would look like if you didn't? How do you think people would treat you?

How do you feel about your hair when your roots grow out? Or your braids get loose? Do you know what your hair looks like untouched?

Question what do you think of freeforms? And why do you think that?

No matter who you are, you should ask yourself -

If a guy said he found curly hair ubiquitously ugly, and questioned if curly haired people were clean, wouldn't it be odd and messed up?

Have I heard myself or others refer to 4c locced hair as ugly? Or questioned their hygiene?

Do I think freeform loced black hair is ugly? Would I date someone with this hair? Why or why not?

Start a discussion with yourself.

As someone with 4c hair and starting a loc journey, I feel like this had to be said. Because it's something that affects and influences a lot of us.

There has beauty in Hobie and there is beauty in black hair. We just have to unlearn a lot of things to see it.

Anyway Hobies hair is hot. Freeforms are hot. I love black people. The end

#no proofread you know what I meant 😭😭#CAN WE PLEASE TALK ABOUT THIS #The disgust towards freeform hair is crazy #chances are YOUR HAIR does what Hobies does #spiderman #atsv #spider man #marvel #across the spiderverse #hobie brown #spider punk #spiderpunk

232 notes · View notes

m1ckeyb3rry · 8 months

Text

Hurricanes / Hummingbirds: II

Series Synopsis: As the years go by, you find that it is incredibly difficult to survive wars and fight storms, especially when the only thing you have by way of a cursed technique is the blessing of a tiny bird.

Chapter Synopsis: You get acquainted with Nanami’s least favorite upperclassman, as well as with your sword.

Series Masterlist

Pairing: Hajime Kashimo x Female Reader; slight Kento Nanami x Female Reader; slight Satoru Gojo × Female Reader

Chapter Word Count: 4.2k

Content Warnings: swearing, enemies/rivals to lovers, character death, canon-typical violence, angst, gore, original characters included

A/N: very unserious chapter apologies in advance

“Are you Satoru Gojo?” you said. He certainly looked like somebody who you’d expect to be a clan heir, with a shock of white hair and pitch-dark glasses perched on the bridge of his nose. He was currently engaged in conversation with another boy, this one with messy black hair tied into a bun and discerning brown eyes that widened slightly when they lit upon you.

“Me? Yeah, whaddya want?” the white haired boy said, pointing at himself. You clasped your hands in front of you.

“Please, sir, oh, please please please let me have the Sword of Syrinx! I’ll do anything — okay, no, I won’t — if you just give it to me. I’ve never wanted anything as badly as I want it, and I promise I’ll be the best underclassman you’ve ever had if you let me use it! I know it’s a special grade cursed tool, technically, so it’s super-duper valuable, and I’m just a random first year student who can’t even use a sword, but I really really want it!” you said, all in a rush. Both boys gave you bemused looks.

“Uh, what?” Gojo said, rubbing the back of his neck and glancing at his friend, who shrugged in confusion. You steeled your expression before dropping into a bow.

“Satoru Gojo,” you said.

“Yes?” he said nervously.

“I ate the sandwich you made for Nanami,” you said.

“Oh, no way! Did you like it?” he said. You knew you should lie — after all, Nanami said that Gojo’s ego was already the size of Tokyo, and there was real danger in inflating it further. However, you knew the ways of men very well, and there was only one way you could convince him to let you have the Sword of Syrinx, which you coveted so dearly.

“Yes,” you said. “Very much. It was the best sandwich I’ve ever eaten.”

“Awesome!” he cheered. “Yeah, see, I’m a good cook, too! Take that, Suguru. I can’t believe you doubted me!”

“It was just a sandwich,” his friend muttered. “Don’t go thinking you’re some kind of a chef.”

“But it was the best sandwich she’s ever eaten! Of course, it only makes sense. As one of the strongest, I’d naturally make sandwiches deserving of the title. By the way, you have good taste, random girl!” Gojo said, reaching out to pat your still-bowed head. You clenched your fists in determination.

“Y/N L/N, sir. Please call me Y/N,” you said.

“Okay. Please don’t call me sir,” he said.

“Alright,” you said. “So, about the Sword of Syrinx…?”

“Huh? Oh, that piece of junk? Sure, you can have it,” he said dismissively. You froze before slowly looking up at him, his casually arrogant grin, his lazy posture. He was tall, but the height gave him a gangly appearance. He was almost awkward, in that way of a foal or fawn, all legs and little else. The effect was especially exacerbated by his friend who stood beside him; this boy was broader, more filled out, though he was about the same height as Gojo.

“I can?” you said. Gojo gave you a double thumbs up.

“I don’t use weapons, and even if I did, I definitely wouldn’t pick such a useless, random one. Why, did you think I’d say no or something? As if! If you can use it, then at least someone can, and if you can’t, then it’ll be back in the cursed tools warehouse before long,” he said.

“Oh,” you said, realizing there had been no reason for you to flatter him. Now you had pumped his ego even more, and you hadn’t even gotten anything out of it that you wouldn’t have otherwise.

“Yeah,” he said. You blinked before what he had said really set in, and then you squealed in delight.

“Wait, I can really have it? Like, really really?” you said. Gojo nodded eagerly.

“Like, really really!” he said. It was almost condescending, but you were too excited to care. The Sword of Syrinx was yours, it was really, truly yours, and now all you had to do was learn how to use it. You didn’t even care that your only cursed technique was Hummingbird’s Blessing; if you had that sword, you were certain that nothing could stop you.

“Thank you! Thank you so, so much! If you ever need a sandwich taster or something, you know where to find me!” you shouted over your shoulder, taking off in a full sprint towards the cursed tools warehouse where Hinode, Haibara, and Nanami were waiting for your triumphant return.

“Sure thing!” he shouted back.

You were out of breath and panting by the time you returned to the cursed tools warehouse, but not even your exhaustion was enough to dampen your spirits, which had been immeasurably raised after the brief exchange with Gojo.

“He’ll give it to me!” you huffed out, doubling over to calm your racing heart, your palms pressing against your thighs as your breathing returned to normal. “Hinode, he said I can have the sword!”

“Congratulations,” Hinode said, presenting you with the scabbarded weapon. “To pay him back for his kindness, make sure take excellent care of it.”

As soon as the Sword of Syrinx was in your hands, it began to murmur with cursed energy, seeking out your own like it was trying to greet you. You weren’t really sure how to respond, but it seemed that at least your cursed energy did, rushing up to meet the sword’s, weaving in and out in an undulating motion that you could only describe as dancing. It was not something you could see; rather, it was something you felt, against your skin, in your soul, the meeting of your heart and the Sword of Syrinx as comforting as the embrace of an old friend.

“Why are you standing there with a stupid expression on your face?” Nanami said. You hugged the sword to your chest, tracing your fingers over the designs on the scabbard to occupy your ever-racing mind.

“It’s my sword,” you said simply. “I was just getting to know it.”

Nanami side-eyed you. “Um, okay. Should I introduce myself as well?”

It was obvious he was confused; to be fair, you did not blame him. The notion of getting to know a sword was a ridiculous one, especially in the way that he likely assumed you meant it. But you weren’t doing some kind of formal interview with the Sword of Syrinx, you were just letting it feel your cursed energy, which, considering the fact that it was a Special Grade Cursed Tool, didn’t seem like too far-fetched an idea.

“Don’t be so critical, Nanami.” To your surprise, it was Hinode who jumped to your defense. “Tools of such power can be finicky. It could very well be that allowing the energy of the sword to grow accustomed to hers might be the key to letting her wield it properly.”

“Kind of like boiling a frog!” Haibara said. “You know, like she slowly feeds it more and more of her energy until it accepts her as its new owner? If it gets overloaded all at once, it’ll obviously not want to cooperate, since it’ll recognize that she’s not the one that forged it, but if she’s slow and methodical about it, it won’t even realize the difference.”

“Actually, you have a point,” Hinode said. Haibara clapped his hands together in excitement; however, in doing so, he neglected to remember the cursed knives he was attempting to hold. They clattered everywhere, and he gave you all a horrified look that caused a small giggle to escape you.

“Haibara,” Nanami groaned. “You are such a disaster. It’s a wonder you’ve made it this far.”

“Sorry!” Haibara responded in a tone that suggested he was actually not at all sorry. Kneeling, he deftly swept up the knives and shoved them into the pockets of his uniform — pockets which must’ve been extremely deep, considering the fact that he was able to stash away the entire set. You wondered why he had been balancing them on his hands in the first place, if he had had such pockets available the entire time.

“That’ll be your homework, then, Y/N,” Hinode said. “Every day, you have to slowly but surely increase how much of your cursed energy the Sword of Syrinx will accept. Until the day comes that it’s entirely under your control, you’ll practice with a normal sword. It shouldn’t be a problem; it’s not like you need a special grade tool to spar against Nanami and Haibara, at least not at first.”

“Spar against who and what?” you said, glancing at the muscular Haibara and the towering Nanami, both of whom appeared to be slightly undefeatable for someone like you, someone who was lacking in training even more than knowledge.

“That’s how you get better,” Hinode said. “You practice against opponents who can really test you without the fear of them actually permanently harming you. It’s dangerous to go against cursed spirits without having experience using your technique in battle, you know.”

“I don’t even know how to properly hold a sword,” you said.

“We’re not going to spar with you until you’re ready,” Nanami said. Although he seemed generally annoyed about everything, there was a nagging thought in the back of your mind that he was just actually always like this and it was not something he could help or choose to do.

“If you want to get started now, you can go put the Sword of Syrinx in your room and meet us at the training grounds,” Hinode offered.

“Okay!” you said.

“I can show you the way, if you want,” Haibara said. “Since I doubt you know where the training grounds are.”

“Wait,” Hinode said with a shifty wink at Haibara, whose jaw dropped before he winked back in understanding. “Maybe Nanami should do it.”

“Huh?” you said.

“Why me?” Nanami said, true despair contorting his features. You wrinkled your nose.

“You didn’t have to say it like that,” you said. He ignored you.

“This better not be one of your schemes, Hinode!” he said. Hinode whistled innocently, shoving his hands in his pockets and speeding off, Haibara doing the same and leaving you and Nanami alone in the warehouse. For a moment, neither of you spoke, simply watching the empty doorway, utterly bewildered at what had just happened.

“What was that all about?” you said.

“Nothing,” Nanami said, stomping towards the door. “Let’s just go.”

“Oh, uh, Nanami,” you said, following after him, though without as much fuss and stomping. “I have to apologize.”

“Apologize? For what?” he said, stopping in his tracks and turning to you with pursed lips. He obviously expected the worst, and he was right to do so. After all, you had done the one thing he had told you not to.

“I…I told Gojo I thought his sandwich was good,” you said. His eyes widened, and he grabbed your shoulders, shaking you back and forth like he could imbue some sense into you if he did so.

“Why. Would. You. Do that?” he said.

“I really wanted the Sword of Syrinx!” you whined. “I thought if I flattered him, he’d be more likely to give it to me, but it turns out he would’ve given it to me anyways, so I did it for nothing!”

“He’s never going to leave you alone now,” Nanami said before instantly brightening. “Wait. Maybe this means he’ll leave me alone now!”

“Is he really that bad? I mean, he wasn’t horrible when I talked to him,” you said as you began to walk again. Nanami shook his head.

“See, the thing is, Haibara really looks up to Geto, one of the other second years and Gojo’s best friend. They have this whole mentor-mentee relationship, and I honestly respect it, because Geto is marginally more normal than Gojo. Gojo feels left out, though, and I think he’s been trying to cultivate that same relationship with me, but I am not interested in being mentored by some white-haired idiot that’s built like a tree, even if he is one of the strongest sorcerers alive,” he said.

“That’s harsh,” you said. “Seems like you have a lot of built up rage against him.”

“He got us matching t-shirts once,” Nanami said.

“That’s kind of cute,” you said, unlocking the door to your room and motioning for Nanami to come in. He did so hesitantly, tip-toeing over to your desk and sitting in the chair primly. He kept his back stiff and straight, his feet planted firmly on the floor, his hands folded in his lap uncomfortably.

“It is not cute! It’s degrading,” he said. You scanned the room, trying to find a good place to put the Sword of Syrinx.

“I don’t know, I think maybe you should wear it. It would probably make him happy,” you said.

“Never. Why would I feed into his nonsense?” he said. You settled for resting the sword atop your bookshelf, where it would be unlikely to fall or be knocked over by accident.

“Dunno, it was just a suggestion,” you said.

“Whatever. Like I said, he’s going to try to foster a bond between the two of you now, so I think I’m probably free from his clutches for the moment. I hope you can survive,” Nanami said.

“He’s not a natural disaster or anything. He’s just our upperclassman,” you said. “He’s definitely not as bad as you’re making him out to be. Now, let’s go, I’m sure Hinode and Haibara are waiting for us.”

“Don’t come complaining to me when he tries to get you to coordinate your outfits, then,” Nanami said.

“I think it would be nice to coordinate outfits with someone,” you said. Although you had had friends back home, they had never been best friends, they had never cared about you that deeply. Plus, when you got older, you had been considered something like a freak by those who genuinely got to know you, so while on the surface, you seemed popular and well-beloved, the end result was that you had spent much of your life almost entirely alone.

Haibara had rolled up his sleeves and was punching Hinode’s arm when you and Nanami joined them at the training grounds; for his part, Hinode was entirely unaffected, sipping on an iced coffee and occasionally swatting at Haibara’s hands.

“There you two are! We were beginning to think you guys got lost,” Hinode said, tossing the now-empty cup of iced coffee into a nearby trash can. “Alright, that’s enough, Haibara. Just because I drank bleach earlier doesn’t mean I’m entirely immune to pain.”

“It doesn’t?” Haibara said. “Oops. Sorry, sir.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Hinode said. “It does numb most unpleasant sensations, so it’s more like a bug bite than a full on hit, but after a while, it grows tiresome. So, go beat up Nanami.”

“Maybe don’t do that,” Nanami said.

“Isn’t it a good plan?” Hinode said, ignoring Nanami’s protests completely. “You guys can have a practice match so that Y/N can see cursed techniques in action, as well as get a feel of what sparring is like. Plus, it’s been forever since you guys went all out in a spar, so it’ll be beneficial for you two, too.”

“Sounds good!” Haibara said. “I can try out my new knives, too!”

“They’re going to use actual cursed tools?” you said, moving to stand beside Hinode so that he could answer your questions as they arose. Nanami had pulled out a blunt blade wrapped in cloth from his bag, and Haibara was twirling his knives in between his fingers as he made his way to the dusty practice arena. Hinode hummed in assent.

“There’s no point in practicing with less. Of course, they’re only fighting until surrender, not death, so they’ll hold back the full power of the tools,” he said. You took your bottom lip between your teeth in worry.

“They won’t get hurt, right?” you said.

“Hurt is fine. We have a reverse cursed technique user on campus — one of the second years, Shoko Ieri — so if anything really bad happens, she can take care of it. Otherwise, though, they can just walk it off. Jujutsu sorcerers have more durable bodies, and we generally heal quicker, so minor injuries can be cured in a day’s rest, more or less,” he said.

“Still,” you protested weakly. Hinode gave you a calm look.

“Would you rather twist your ankle or lose your leg? It’s minor, in the grand scheme of things,” he said. “As for me, I would much prefer getting hit by Nanami or Haibara than a curse. Now, watch them carefully, I’m going to ask you questions about their fight afterwards.”

They had not quite yet begun in earnest. Nanami was crouching slightly, assessing the situation, while Haibara was jogging in place, warming up his muscles. Hinode whistled as if to remind them to get started, but they didn’t even acknowledge it, each focused only on the other, playing a game of waiting, of chicken, daring their opponent to go first but simultaneously refusing to be the one to rise to the bait.

All of a sudden, Haibara sprung into action, blitzing forward and then punching at Nanami with the ferocity of a tiger. It was strange to see the happy boy in this context, and you wondered how someone so kind could become such a vicious creature in the blink of an eye.

Nanami ducked out of the way of the hit and swept his leg into a graceful motion, kicking Haibara’s legs out from under him and knocking him off of his balance. Right as Haibara was about to thud onto his back, he reached his left hand out, catching himself in a back handspring and using his momentum to flip back to his feet while using his right hand to send a knife flying at Nanami.

“They’re going so fast,” you said in awe. All of this had happened in a couple of seconds, the two boys moving at speeds you did not even realize the human body was capable of attaining.

“They can go faster, but I’ll cut them some slack,” Hinode said. “They haven’t sparred in a bit, after all.”

Nanami brandished his sword and used it to deflect Haibara’s knife before smacking Haibara upside the head with it. Haibara was unable to dodge and settled for covering his most vulnerable spots with his hands, crouching so that Nanami barely inflicted any damage to him. Then he laughed and, while Nanami was still within his range, spun on his heel and punched him squarely in the gut. Nanami doubled over, and Haibara took advantage of his prone position to slam him into the ground. Haibara raised his foot to step on Nanami’s back and hold him in place, but before he could, Nanami rolled over, onto his back and out of the way.

“Oh, are we being serious about this?” he coughed out, pushing himself to his feet and gripping his sword. Haibara smirked.

“No point if we aren’t,” he responded.

“I can’t believe you’re making me do so much work,” Nanami said. Suddenly, the very air around him shifted, and he rushed towards Haibara, swinging his sword at him. At the last instant before impact, he spun the sword so that it was the flat side smacking against Haibara’s legs. Though the hit really shouldn’t have done anything to Haibara, it caused him to fall to the ground, his legs twitching uselessly as he slapped the ground in surrender.

“You win!” he yelped as Nanami walked towards him. As soon as he said that, Nanami offered him his hand, but Haibara shook his head. “My legs will take a second to recover. Give me a bit.”

“Sorry,” Nanami said. “You did say to go all out, though.”

“Nah, you’re good,” Haibara said. Both of their faces were red, and sweat dripped down their brows. Though the match had barely lasted a few minutes, they were as exhausted as if they had just run marathons. “I was too slow in reinforcing my legs with cursed energy. You wouldn’t have gotten me if I had.”

“Probably not,” Nanami agreed.

“What did you think, Y/N?” Hinode said.

“What did I think?” you said. “Well, it all happened so quick.”

“You should see Gojo and Geto when they spar. Now that’s fast,” he said. “Speed is important. Using cursed energy is taxing, so the quicker you can get your opponent out, the more likely you are to survive. Unlike sorcerers, curses have no issues using cursed energy, so if it comes to a battle of attrition, you will lose every time.”

“I get it. That’s why they both went for decisive blows every time instead of trying to wear down on each other with smaller strikes,” you said.

“Good!” Hinode said. “You’re quick on the uptake. That’s good, I hate dull students. Uh, but don’t tell my boss I said that, I’m not supposed to have preferences…”

“Your secret is safe with me,” you said, pretending to seal your lips shut. “Did Nanami use his cursed technique at the end? Is that why Haibara can’t stand up yet?”

“Yes, that’s correct. He didn’t put too much cursed energy into the technique, so Haibara should regain motion pretty soon, but that’s why such a lame hit managed to completely take his enemy out. That’s the power of an innate technique,” he said.

“You said that my innate technique, Hummingbird’s Blessing, allows its user to borrow the strength of the hummingbird,” you said, staring at the lines of your palm, flexing your fingers experimentally. “I still can’t quite figure out what that means, though.”

“Your technique hasn’t fully awakened yet. Although most people figure out their techniques when they’re young, for some reason, you didn’t. It might just take some time before you can properly utilize it to the fullest extent,” he said. “Don’t worry about it for the moment, though. Just practice with the Sword of Syrinx — even that alone will be enough to exorcise most curses,” he said.

“I see,” you said. “I will do that.”

“Come on, Y/N! Let’s get ice cream to celebrate Nanami’s win!” Haibara said. He had been yanked to his feet, presumably by Nanami, whose shoulder he was leaning on as he beckoned for you to join them.

“Isn’t it still the school day?” you said, looking at Hinode unsurely.

“I don’t care. There’s nothing else planned for today, so you guys can do whatever you want. Just remember to spend some time with the Sword of Syrinx later, alright?” he said.

“Yes, sir, I will! Thank you!” you said.

“Go on and have fun,” he said. You did not think twice before darting over to where Nanami and Haibara were waiting for you, Nanami with his trademark glum expression and Haibara as thrilled as always despite the fact that Nanami literally had to drag him along as he could still barely walk.

“By the way, Nanami said he’ll pay for everyone!”

“I did not!”

Later that night, when you were alone in your room and everyone else was surely asleep, you pulled the Sword of Syrinx out of its scabbard and sat on the floor with it in your lap. Deciding you might as well multitask, you began to painstakingly polish the sword before tentatively becoming aware of your cursed energy again.

You still didn’t know how to control it. Hinode hadn’t taught you, and you had no previous experience. You simply had to trust that your instincts would guide you well and that the sword would be amicable to your fumbling approaches.

“Nanami would probably call me stupid for this,” you said aloud before sighing. “But, uh, my name is Y/N L/N. It’s nice to meet you.”

It took a while for the sword to respond, as if it were carefully regarding you, judging you and trying to decide if you were worthy to wield it. You continued to doggedly polish the blade — even if you did not keep it, even if you had to give it back to Gojo and the cursed tools warehouse, at least you would return it in a better condition than you had taken it.

Of course, swords could not talk, and this one was no exception. But at the same time, this was not an ordinary sword; it was the Special Grade Cursed Tool, Sword of Syrinx, and so some rules could be bent. Though it could not speak, its cursed energy had a language of its own, not direct speech but emotions, feelings, sensations. That was why, when the sword decided to accept you, you could feel its happiness, its sense of belonging, as if it had finally returned to someone it had lost.

A single tear traced its way down your cheek and splashed onto the iridescent blade. You weren’t sure where it had come from or why you were crying, but regardless, you wiped it off, though you let your finger linger on the cool metal.

It took a moment, but eventually, in its own way, the sword responded.

Hello.

#kashimo x reader #kashimo x you #kashimo x y/n #canon au #reader insert #hurricanes / hummingbirds #m1ckeyb3rry writes

21 notes · View notes

rose-edith · 2 years

Text

Hope you like it! @ilovemark1951

Gibbs asking you out as you both buy wood would include:

•you were going to buy the wood to build yourself a built in bookcase for an alcove in your front room…which was in every sense of the word an interesting idea.

•you’d never really built anything before, but you had the tools, you’d watched and read instructions on how to do it, so you thought you’d give it a try! How hard could it be? (Famous last words.)

•and that’s how you find yourself in a hardware store looking at what can only be described as about half a forest’s worth of wood- there were hard woods, soft woods, sanded woods, rough woods, anything you could possibly need!

•you felt more than a bit overwhelmed! Did you want oak? Pine? Cherry wood? Mahogany? And the panic must’ve been apparent on your face, because a charming man came to your aid- he wasn’t a worker, but he looked like the sort of guy who knew what he was talking about.

•it was, of course, Jethro. He introduced himself, even going so far as to show you his NCIS ID so you didn’t panic or worry he was a creep- but you wouldn’t have minded if he were, he was attractive, charming, clever!

•he asked what project you needed wood for- and you explained that you were building some bookshelves in an alcove- you even showed him a photo of the space and he nodded. Gibbs showed you the best three types: cherry wood, mahogany, or red oak- all three were durable and within your budget!

•in the end you chose the cherry wood, and Jethro (as he’d insisted you call him, and naturally you asked him to call you Y/N- you’d even been flirting a little!) helped you get it cut to the size you needed. He was very impressed with the way you had the measurements recorded, and he flicked through your notebook to see how you’d written out the instructions and designed the shelves, they looked good!

•he carried the specially cut wood to your car after you’d paid for it and helped you stow it safely for the short journey home. But you both lingered over saying goodbye, and it’s just as well you did- because he asked you out! And of course, you said yes!

•so you found yourself a few nights later going to his place for a steak dinner- which had been delicious…but not nearly as delicious as the after dinner entertainment!

•Gibbs had taken you down to the basement and you were blown away by his beautiful boat! And then he had you try your hand at sanding it, with his body pressed up against yours guiding your movements of course! And it didn’t take long for the kisses to start! It didn’t take long for you to find yourself backed up against the smooth wood, as Jethro treated you to losses and touches that had you moaning, your chest arching into his…it’s as well Gibbs’s boat was sturdy, it had to support you both through some very rigorous activities!

•you were glad you met Jethro, glad that you’d both hit it off so well and so easily. He ended up coming round to help you with your little woodwork project- though you did keep getting distracted when his top pulled taut over his shoulders, when he stretched and his arms flexed…so you had to keep stealing kisses. But in the end the shelves were built, and they were proof of just how harmonious and well you and Jethro work together. Definitely made to last!

#ncis reader insert #ncis #ncis x reader #ncis headcanons #ncis imagine #ncis gibbs #leroy jethro gibbs headcanons #leroy jethro gibbs imagine #leroy jethro gibbs #leroy jethro gibbs x reader #jethro gibbs headcanons #jethro gibbs imagine #jethro gibbs x reader #jethro gibbs #mark harmon #mark harmon x reader

194 notes · View notes

saltymongoose · 2 years

Note

Something I’ve been thinking about the Giant!Player. You know those dioramas with clay and resin and all the funky craft materials that are really pretty? So what if the player is really good at making them and makes some for the grunts.

Like this giant deity just plonks down one of those monsters dioramas in resin things. Like would the grunt think that the player encased these horrifying beast? And just hand them over just like that?

Imagine th player waltzing over to Phobos and just hands him a miniature (to him it’s full sized) Japanese palace and say “ Hey! I made this and though of you so you can have it”

I wonder what they would give the boys ? Probably something sci-fi.

This is really interesting, I love the idea of the Giant!Player managing to acquire some tools to craft some things for the grunts. You've done it so often that it's quite a simple process for you, yet the grunts are completely mystified by what you create. I can imagine that the main four would be quite curious about what you're doing the first time you make something, especially Deimos since he makes stuff as well (well, weapon mods and more tech-related things but still).

Then, after a couple of hours, you call them over as you place what appears to be a frozen sea monster in front of them, suspended in what looks like clear plastic. They stand stock-still for a moment before Dei and Hank approach it, the former marveling over the size of what you've created while Hank taps on the resin roughly, as if trying to get the monster to notice him. At the same time, Sanford is scolding the two to try and get them to step away from the supposedly dangerous creature (just Deimos really, cause Hank wouldn't listen anyway). 2BDamned is the only one who nonchalantly asks you what it is, to which you reply that the entire thing is artificial. If you were closer, you might've heard the relieved sigh that left him. He didn't have to worry about one of those three managing to release anything. Good.

After the reveal, the boys all kinda go quiet for a second (they believed it was real, you must think they're so dumb-) before exploding in questions. Deimos is excitedly asking you about everything you used to make it, the steps you took, and why you chose to do this in particular, while Sanford and Doc are more focused on where you learned to do this. Hank just admires the horrifying creature you've made as they do so. It's so big compared to them, which makes it even more impressive.

When you make more things for them, you tend to lean a little into the whole futuristic side, maybe making little replicas of the living spaces from sci-fi movies so they have a "portable base" to stay in. (Like the Nostromo from Alien, or something similar.) For you, it's a bit like making a dollhouse ngl, but for your boys it's an unparalleled example of master architecture. If anything, the gesture just makes them fall further for you; you do so much for them already, but giving them such a good shelter? It's something they appreciate more than you'd think, especially with the state of the buildings they've had to stay in before. Although, if you're planning more individual-related projects, Hank adores the monsters you make, while Deimos is interested in what weapons you could come up with (perhaps as inspiration for his own work). Doc isn't picky, but he's partial to anything with moving parts (like clockwork). He just finds it fascinating. Sanford, on the other hand, enjoys your more nature-based dioramas. It gives him more insight into what your world looks like, which he thinks brings you closer in a way.

For Phobos, he'd probably make any building you make him into a "house of worship" unless you tell him not to lmao. I mean, his God made him a legitimate palace like it was nothing, why wouldn't he want to give back by spreading the word of your power this way? Plus, you thought of him after creating something so grand (something that made him choke on his spit and go red when you told him), he couldn't consider himself a good acolyte if he didn't at least try. Honestly, he's very likely to just move there permanently if possible. Who needs the Science Tower when he's got a grand-scale palace made by a literal God?

(Either way, expect to be showered with gratitude and compliments for your craftsmanship for hours (if not days) on end. And for him to rub this in Jeb's face whenever possible.)

(At least until you make something for him too.)

#tw: yandere #ask #i ❤️ anons

79 notes · View notes

trashcora · 11 months

Note

Hi, I really love your andor gifset from September 28 2022 (idk if I can post a link so... but it's from the first episode) and I was wondering if you could maybe give me some tips on how to make it so clear and vibrant even when the picture is big? I have just started gif-making a few days ago and I definitely want to aspire to make such great gifs.

Hi there!!!! Firstly tysmmm 🥺 i really had a fun time making those big gif andor episode sets i think they all turned out great!

I did make a tutorial a while back mostly focusing on how I sharpen my gifs. My steps mostly the same as they were here except I now export gifs using "adaptive & diffusion"

The Andor gifsets you called out I did use 4K SDR videos. But I don't always think 4K is necessary (especially where r we gunna get them now rip rarbg), 1080p is always preferred and if you're d*wnl*ding / t*rr*nting i would recommend trying to pick the larger file size, for example choosing a movie thats 5GB over 1.5GB.

In my last tutorial I didn't really go into how I colour my gifs but that's where the biggest changes come into place. I don't use a set preset/psd, I colour each gifset uniquely but I do have the same order of steps generally. My order of adjustment layers tends to be: Levels, Curves, Selective Colour, Vibrancy. I also frequently use Channel Mixer and Hue/Saturation when needed. Below the cut I'll share my "starting" settings for some of the adjustments layers but these often change as the gif needs.

I hope this is somewhat helpful!! I think with practice and more gifing you'll find your own style and process. I look back at gifs I made a year ago and think oooof haha what was I doing back then. constant improvements & always finding new tricks♥️ I would also recommend following some gif resources blogs like @usergif or @pscentral they often post really helpful tutorials & tricks to help make your gifmaking the best it can be!

Levels - I tend to start with the default "Increase Contrast 1" or "Increase Contrast 2" depending on how dark the intial scene is. When making aditional adjustments I focus on the end sliders - the dark & light, and barely ever touch the midtones adjustment, if i do use it I go very subtly so 1.05 or 0.95. Our goal in the end is to make the darkest parts of the gif black & the lightest parts almost white.

Curves - imo curves makes the biggest adjustment for the gif colouring. shes my best friend! So again I focus on the dark/light eye droppers. I start with the white eyedropper and select something white or the lightest part of the gif, then go to the black eye dropper selecting a very dark portion of the gif. Then in the middle section I adjust the curves line (white line) to meet the needs of the gif for proper contrast / brightness. If needed Ill open the RGB drop down (red arrow) and adjust specific colours. I use the Blue the most as i often see alot of yellow tint in movies (which i hate lol) so ill bring the top end of the blue line closer to the centre of the grid to reduce the yellowness. Sometimes ill make a second curves layer, set the preset to "linear contrast" then adjust the sliders as needed, this often gives additional contrast & brightness.

Selective Colour - my second best friend! this is where you can make little adjustments to the hues of the gif, then fine tweak the darkness/brightness in the gif. So below i have my "starting points" in the white, natural & black colours. Often the white ends up being a much lower number (-40 or less) and in the neutrals area i can fine tune the overall hue of the gif - reduce the yellows or increase the reds etc. This tool is alot of playing around with and just seeing what looks good!

Vibrance - this is normally the last layer ill add. I barely change the settings I tend to go with 20-30 Vibrance and then 2-5 on Saturation. Just gives add extra vibrancy and colour pop. Saturation stays a bit on the lower side as often bringing it makes peoples skin tone too orange/red/yellow etc. But if I want over saturation increase on particular colours I'll make those adjustments with a Hue/Saturation layer.

#asks #mythicluke #gif tutorial #tutorial

10 notes · View notes

marshallpupfan · 2 years

Text

It's time to talk about another big Photoshop editing tale!

Anyone remember this image? I believe it was posted by the official PAW Patrol Twitter account back in March of 2021. It's pretty cute! Of course, being a Marshall fan, it's no surprise I found the Dalmatian's pose especially adorable! And considering my penchant for creating transparent PNGs out of stuff like this, naturally I wanted to add it to my collection!

Unfortunately, I can only really do that if the image is big, and as you can see, he's really small here. His portion of the image is about 200x200, and for comparison, the screenshots I use for my daily Marshall pics are all 1920x1080.

Furthermore, when something like this is so small, a lot of the detail is lost, not to mention tiny PNG's simply aren't very useful. As such, I kept hoping and waiting for a bigger version to appear one day.

Cut to over a year later, and no such luck... well, kinda.

The thing is, this particular image of Chase, Marshall, Rubble and Skye has been used elsewhere, such as on products, magazines, etc., but the image is usually smaller than the one I found on Twitter, so it's just not much help. Thankfully, I finally found something that was... a little bigger, at least.

This image is 2300x2300. Marshall, himself is around 400x400, so while that's still small, it's at least nearly twice the size of the one on Twitter. I decided to try and make a transparent PNG out of it, thinking it might work if I use a tool I found online.

You see, not too long ago, I discovered something called "AI Upscaling". Basically, it can take a small image, rework it, and make a bigger version that actually looks pretty good! Well, sometimes. It's pretty dodgy, but I have tried it on a few of my smaller PNGs, and the results were pretty good!

AI upscaling, however, only really works well when the image quality is great. That 2300x2300 picture I found... wasn't. As such, when it got upscaled, parts were iffy and simply didn't turn out great.

To make matters worse, the light-colored background ended up blurring together with Marshall's white fur, thus I had to pretty much guess where one began and the other ended. But I continued on, hoping it'd work out. In the end, the results weren't good, but I figured it was the best I was going to get.

Thankfully, while searching around the net a few days ago, I found another image that helped me out quite a bit!

I have no idea what most of this says, but my new pal, Sagrotan, just-so-happened to upload an ad of their product that has Marshall in the pose I've been looking for! He's roughly 450x850, and though it's not complete, I can still use it!

Going back into Photoshop, I AI upscaled, rotated and resized Sagrotan's image to match what I had, removed the background, and tried aligning it up with my previous image as close as possible so I could use it to fill in the missing parts (such as the right front leg and paw, portions of his back, tail, etc.). It wasn't easy, especially since the colors didn't exactly match, not to mention some details (like the shadows on his helmet) got lost during the AI upscaling. But after some time and effort in Photoshop...

This is the result! It's 760x680, and though it's not perfect, I'm actually quite happy with it! It took over a year, but I finally got a transparent PNG of Marshall in this adorable pose! 😃

Now... I just hope I don't have to do something like this again for a while. For the time being, I'm sticking with bigger, complete images to make transparent PNGs out of. lol

#PAW Patrol #PAWPatrol #Marshall #Marshall Paw Patrol #MarshallPawPatrol #Paw Patrol Marshall #PawPatrolMarshall #transparent PNG #Sagrotan #Spin Master #SpinMaster

40 notes · View notes

lllllllllllines · 1 year

Text

Ok so, I've noticed that there is fuck all abt it so imma put my hat in the ring. (even though no one is gonna read this.... prolly)

Is there anyone here that has read Vigor Mortis by Thundamoo? (And by extension, Bioshifter and HMGGH?)

Cause I've only seen like one post on here abt it, which is honestly criminal.

The story is honestly really good and if I have to get the miniscule amount of people I know look at my blog every now and then to check it out then so be it.

AS BRIEF AS I CAN EXPLANATION: The story takes place in a world separated by several floating islands, each of them surrounding a massive misty core.

Each island being not only it's own land mass, but also acting as the day/night cycle, cause the sun never sets, islands just float over each other eclipsing the sun to act as the end of each day. (The days are literally named after the islands that block out the sun each day.)

In the mists below is the Mistwatcher, an eldritch being the people worship as a god. (The term Watcher's eyes is akin to saying god's name in vain.) Seen as the creator of souls and giver of life.

Giving a special few souls Talents, Instinctual magical skills, though magic can also be learned.

The story follows a girl named Vita (hehe like the word for life), A young, starving street urchin, who when looking to help out the two people taking care of her and several other younger kids in her situation, is almost beaten to death by the baker she tried to steal bread from.

What Happens instead however, is that she rips his soul from his body, causing her to realize she has a talent of her own. One that should be impossible due to souls being the Mistwatcher's domain.

Her talent being that of natural necromancy.

************************************************************************

Spoilers for worldbuilding stuff, if what i had just said interests you go check it out: https://www.royalroad.com/fiction/40373/vigor-mortis

************************************************************************

So firstly, the story feels like it takes a lot of inspiration from litRPGs and Gamelit without actually being one. Setting the story a bit closer to Progression Fantasy, at least in the beginning.

(e.g. Vita's ability to see the strengths of monsters in comparison to herself by the size of their souls. Being able to consume the souls of other beings to grow stronger, and being able to store souls inside herself like a sort of inventory, that sort of thing)

There are the traditional staples of stories with similar gimmicks. Such as an adventure's guild, (Or Hunter's guild as it is called in the story, though that is another trope that can be seen around).

Lots of monster hunting, at least in the beginning. Though unlike most stories that implement that sort of structure, its not just used without some sort of forethought.

A lot of the weapons and armor used in the story are made out of monster parts.

Lots of descriptions of armor being made of scale or chitin, hell, even the currency is just coins made of chitin with designs engraved on them.

Metal is not a common material in the story and when it its mentioned, it has this sort of reverence behind it.

Descriptions of metal are mostly found in artifacts used to help with magic in some capacity.

and I don't mean any sort of special fantasy metal either, no mithril or orichalcum here folks, Just your standard Metal.

And as such you won't see metal used in any of the buildings either.

Many of the buildings, seem to be made of either stone, clay or wood.

And this is because of three things.

First, metal and glass just fell out of the sky one day. Its not embedded in the earth (at least from what I understand) and its rarity isn't due to mining limitations due to the fact that they live on floating islands.

It absorbs mana, and holds it there almost indefinitely, which is why most magical tools use metal.

If you horde too much metal, the Mistwatcher will attack you from wherever you are. Due to this The Templars (the church's forces) and the church itself keep an eye on the selling and buying of metal.

As I had stated before, the sun is always shining above, the islands above eclipse the sun for those below them, which signal's the end of the day.

(not really something that would be needed to know to get you interested in the story but its a neat fact none the less)

There is so much more to Vita's story that i haven't mentioned yet, big mystery goin on.

but I will not spoil that, cause that is for you to find out.

Really good character writing all around really.

And there is this all around grimy feel to it all, like with how the people use monster parts as materials, this isn't you monster hunter type shit. (don't get me wrong I love MH but despite the darker lore of the games, the games themselves don't really have that, not that it's any sort of negative.)

All in all, really good read.

Vol. 1 Official Cover art by Tsuu (not fully sure who that is, but if anyone can tell me that would be great)

Also by Tsuu (Vol. 2 Cover)

Again by Tsuu (Vol. 3 Cover)

#royal road #web serial #fantasy #i love this

11 notes · View notes

tobiwan72 · 1 year

Text

Relaunch

So, it is getting to be that time of year. I am looking at relaunching my health. This year, I want to focus on a few things. I will break them down into 4 main categories.

Physical Health

I am going to start refocusing on my physical health. This is actually a two part piece. The first part and most important piece is going to be ensuring I am tracking all my food again. I have really gotten away from this the last couple of months. I know this and will start tracking again starting next week (Dec 10th). I know it will be bumpy at first, but I have to make steps getting back on track.

The second part of this will be ensuring I am exercising. Something I have gotten totally away from. I am going to focus on walking 30 minutes a day, three days a week, and working out with exercise bands and kettlebells, also three days a week.

Summary

Track all food every day

Walk 30 minutes a day 3X a Week

Resistance Training 3X a week

Mental Health

This is a big one for me this year. I know I dwell on bad thoughts. I need to unlearn this habit. I need to learn to just breathe and let things go. I am going to work on a few things moving forward this new year. The big ones are going to be daily breathing/meditating and ensuring I get out into nature at least once a week. It really just helps me to get into a better head space.

Summary

Mediate Daily

Practice Breathing Nightly

Get Outside at least once a Week

Journal Daily

Get Organized

I am very aware of my ADHD. I forget to do things. I miss things. I avoid things. I have lived by the motto Why do today, that which can be put off tomorrow for far too long.

I need to get organized. I need to work on breaking things down into small bites. As I told my supervisor in my yearly review, my brain often freaks out because I get overwhelmed by big tasks. So this coming year I am going to start breaking down these big tasks into smaller tasks.

I am a big fan of lists. I am looking at different software for creating lists to allow me to break these tasks down into bite size pieces. It is funny, as a Web Developer, we are always talking about how if we create a Jira ticket that can’t be done in about 30 minutes, the ticket is too big and needs to be… broken down into sub tasks.

I have just started using an App called SideNotes (Mac Only) that allows me to have a thing off screen that with a simple button click (or shortcut sequence) I can pull out this awesome series of notes on my screen. I can do lists, notes, text, images, url’s, and a To-Do list. I am already liking it.

Last thing… time management. I have been horrible at this. What it really comes down to is I am great at wasting time. I will sit with a device and watch hours of YouTube. It is not healthy. I know it isn’t healthy.

I want to start enriching my mind. Learn new skills. Read new books. Read some non-fiction books. Be more aware of how I am spending my time. I remember this story of Bruce Lee and some of his students. His student was talking about you have only so much time, and you have to choose to spend that time. You can spend it with good friends, a good time, a good book, etc or you can waste that time on things that you don’t enjoy. Things that don’t enrich your life or make you happy.

I know I waste time so much. I go through the motions far too often. I tune out and just lose track of time. I have to stop doing this.

Summary

Work on making the tools I have work for me

Create lists of small, bite sized tasks to complete

Start Spending Time Instead of Wasting Time

Financial Responsibility

This was a big goal of this year. Yeah, that didn’t happen. I have to start really paying attention to things. I need work on not living paycheck to paycheck because I am shooting myself in the foot. This also ties into my not being organized. I have an idea in my head of how much money I have and I end up over spending.

My second problem is I justify why I should have X. I have to stop doing this. I know it is a learned behavior, but it is time to unlearn this unhelpful behavior.

Summary

Track All Expenses in my SpreadSheet

Don’t Over Spend

Know how much I have and don’t spend money just because I have some left.

Next Steps

Today, I went through my dresser and got rid of things I don’t need. Things that are damaged or no longer fit. I had clothes I don’t know why I was holding onto. Things with rips, things that I swam in, things that I never wear.

I am going through the dozens of apps and notes on my devices. Cleaning up things I don’t need. Digital Decluttering. In the next few days I will be going through my physical possessions and getting rid of things that are broken, unused, no longer useful, etc.

#journaling #declutter #plans #get organized #new year

5 notes · View notes

thebestexercisebike · 8 months

Text

Gout Healing - Be Freed Of Gout Naturally

In crystal healing, we use crystals or gemstones for the healing purpose. These crystals are used as either healing any sort of pain our own body or even making our body pure from various impurities. There are a lot of particular regions within our body which is considered as "chakras", the crystal healing will be by keeping urates on these chakras of our physical. There are in all 7 chakras in physique where the crystals are placed for your healing purpose. In Hindi, the "chakra" word means spiritual energy.

As you open your eyes the Mer-Angels have brought you out of the temple and also the Mermaids and Mermen are willing to escort you back to your surface of your ocean and back towards beach. Are you attracted to Hematite? (A shiny dark silver-gray metallic stone) Hematite condenses scatteredness and fuzziness and accentuates mental resolution. It is the most grounding involving most stones. It may with concentration, memory, and practicality. It is good for helping in detail work because bookkeeping and could help with insomnia. Stimulates confidence, willpower and boldness. The Egyptians used it to calm hysteria and anxiety. It's a really Yang stone (male energy). Helps consume regroup after jet lag, stress, birth, and what about anesthesia ?. Some people call strategy 'Programming' in conjunction with a way it must be. Crystals with their mathematical structure and ability to retain information are indeed similar to computers. Nonetheless feel that crystals are a gift inside Earth, built only on loan to us with the short time period time and they have decided be of service in a way. To all of them a purpose, a dedication seems a lot appropriate, compared to instructing them like a product. Crystals, on other numbers of existence, have consciousness and serve to channel healing and positive energy into our dense Earthly, physical dimension. Quartz crystals come a number of colours, sizes and styles. Generally it powerful stone in both metaphysical and healing places. Some quartz crystals amplify healing energy other people are once did scan your to find problem suites. Many crystals also help to get out negativity causing blockages and painful sensation. Because quartz are such a great healer which comes in a range of colours, making ideal tools for chakra healing since each chakra is of one's colour. Elixirs is commonly used for several of things, they can be utilised to treat Stomach Ulcers in situation you would use healing crystals like, Peridot, Rhodonite, Sunstone and Siberian Blue Quarta movement. Now find your Guardian Angel approaching you from a distance. See his or her wings as large and beautiful, radiating a rainbow of lovely colors. See his or her body glowing with white start. This 's just a few of the many Reiki crystal wonders mentioned in Reiki courses. Reiki crystals could be fun and definitely will cause no harm unless you throw them at . A little warning, when the Reiki crystals are made use of in Reiki they have a involving disappearing. In lieu of being upset, just hope they found amazing new housing. Reiki crystals rock!

#luckycrystals

0 notes

sweeneybragg22 · 1 year

Text

autodesk 3d printing

3D printing is a pretty interesting connected with manufacturing technology that is definitely starting to alter the way that we look at creating things, on any scale. Whether you are a a part of a huge marketing firm, or you are a consumer working via his or her garage, you can have access to 3D marketing. What can autodesk Activation Key Free do? Well, frankly, it can create strategies. These things that are designed range from toys, to complex parts for machinery, to character models, to jewelry, to whatever! 3D printing produce virtually in any respect. Before I jump into what may possibly make, let's discuss what takes place when referring to creating a print through 3D printing. Revolve allows a polyline to revolve around a center axis. For curved 3D surfaces extrude doesn't work, but revolve will. One particular my favorite commands for 3D CAD is the circular pattern command. You'll find it works for 2D drawing, but it will really come in useful when designing 3D models. With this command you consider any feature on your design, copy it additional areas on an axis you choose, revolve them 360 degrees, and decide how perhaps you want it placed. Each of the copied features are equally spaced permitting precise fashion styles. It saves tons of time from having to measure certain angles, and dimensions. While autodesk Cracked as Flash can be used primarily moves 2d animation, there can easily couple of 3D powerhouses in plan world. Fat loss those powerhouses is 3D studio max or 3Dsmax for immediate. autodesk Crack around 3Ds max is that it is very new in order to. So if in order to novice just getting started, you could have better luck with package than others out now there. The company behind 3Dsmax is autodesk and tend to be huge involving 3D international. A lot of video games are along with 3D studio max. As the CAD manager, I would sit and take notes in these meetings, while trying to balance a coffee, diet coke and a donuts from my lap. Lone issue that arises an hour and a half, everybody had their say. Although I had been ton of notes, had been just details pointing to the issue. The problem was surprisingly simple, the drawings weren't coordinated. What you will be looking for is the cost of the computer, local disk size, and also the amount of memory naturally installed on the computer. You will also strive to be able to inflate the quantity memory the computer will allow because occasion the program upgrades will dictate exactly how much memory you'll need. Person 1: "Well, my offer offered should take it for free, so I took the game. I didn't find it very hard and it didn't really apply to my perform. It was kind of stupid considering it doesn't really evaluate beneficial ? a person is at Revit, but its made for just about any good resume builder". Remember greatest idea . when firms had drawing checkers? It seems that nobody checks drawings anymore; there possibly be no amount of the schedule or expense. Now we call that process bidding. It sure will make the construction guys angry. We become sensitive about our design work, nonetheless they get sensitive when money is involved. Some people are just so materialistic. The second step to fix the Ac1st16.dll errors on your own own PC will be always to use a software program known as a 'registry cleaner'. These are tools in order to scan together with registry database of your system and fix the various errors in which inside. The registry is being was considered to help Windows run as smoothly as possible, since contains all the files and settings your pc uses in order to operate. Inside this database is kept an incredible list of DLL files which are continually being often help your load the files continuing education. Unfortunately, this list of files is actually being damaged - leading your system to show DLL errors. To fix this, you will have to be willing to use a registry cleaner program to repair any for this problems your registry would like. Performing these steps should resolve the error for decent.

#AUTODESK

0 notes

napkinhell62 · 2 years

Text

Going To Bed With Sex Robots Isn't As Healthy As Some Think, Study Finds

real sex doll The problem is, the more you become anxious, the more your body reacts to the anxiety. Other than the mental symptoms, physical symptoms include cold and sweaty hands, nausea, breathing difficulties, diarrhea, among others. The stigma that is attached to talking about loneliness and anxiety, as well as the fallacy that it is a mental disorder, makes it even harder for the victims to seek help. In fact, research shows that more than 50% of the people affected by loneliness and anxiety in America are not getting the necessary help because of the fear of coming out publicly. But you can’t help but question the legitimacy of what it means to put a doll in the place of a real human. They have beautiful physiques, faces, and physical characteristics. The attractiveness may be easily adjusted to meet your unique requirements. You may choose what sort of hair, breasts, and ears you desire. Many owners have one sex doll, while others have a complete collection. Several people have claimed to have fallen in love with their plastic sex doll and actually stay with them. First things first, let's talk about what a sex doll is and what it isn't. But the CIA was counting on McIntosh, a seasoned field operative, to turn their idea into a workable espionage tool. "They needed someone who actually understood field operations to run , as it had gotten a bit out of hand with theoretical and pie-in-the-sky projects," he says. The masked man used bolt cutters and a fire hydrant to break his way into the Sexyland store on South Road, Moorabbin just after 6am on Sunday. This one man in victoria looks like the stereotypical image of a burglar with his black clothing and face mask, but his intent is quite different to any robbery that we have ever heard of. Big boobs, small boobs, feet, thick waists, long hair, older partners, younger partners — everything and anything can be a fetish. This is your chance to worship feet, suck nipples, or enjoy the sight of whatever turns you on most. Cleaning and sanitizing are very important because it decreases the risk of getting a bacteria infection. Cleaning a sex doll can be a lot, depending on the size of the doll. To make things easier, simply take your sex doll for a bath. They can come as full-sized males from the head to the toe, and they can also be purchased as parts. They are made from different materials such as silicone, rubber, or TPE. Some are medium and average men, while others are more muscular, ripped, and built. These are more than just sex toys, as they feel like girls. In this fast-paced world, things are changing and people are finding and applying new ideas to make their lives easier. There are many natural things that emerge with the attraction of human life to different sexualities. Statistics emerged from the United States and showed that the lockdown triggered sales of sex dolls in New York, Los Angeles, Chicago and Dallas. The COVID-19 pandemic is creating a ‘perfect storm’ for lonely customers. At the end of the day, being a good lover isn’t something we were born with but something that many of us learn through experience. And experiencing all these things at your own pace is very important because you will not feel pressured to satisfy anyone, nor will you be disappointed if you don’t last long in bed. Practicing conversations and pick-up lines while staring in the mirror is rarely helping anyone, so your sex doll might come in handy as an audience when you are trying to improve your social skills. “One day, when a doll with exquisite silicone skin can really think and learn like a human, then it can really be called a ‘smart doll,’” Xu says. Sex dolls can be used to correct sexual performance anxiety by offering an alternative that resembles your partner and one that can gradually build on your confidence and self-esteem again. The cause of the performance anxiety might be the fear of not living up to the expectations of your partner. Sex dolls have come a long way since the days of inflatable figures with their mouths wide open. It depends largely on the openness of the two to accept a lifeless partner in their relationship, if they can fulfill each other's fantasies, sometimes with a doll. Sex doll whose vagina looks so real that it is hard to tell the difference, and a modern realistic sex doll that is easy to maintain. The 21st century gave us many new inventions, especially when it comes to technology development.

#Sex Dolls Help Their Owners Forget How Alone They Actually Are

0 notes

cadavercowboy · 2 years

Text

You Know I’m No Good

Pairing: Steve Kemp x Reader

Summary: Steve says you’re special because he thinks you’re just as fucked up as him. He’s going to learn you’re actually much worse.

Word Count: 5.6k+

Warnings: Explicit content (18+ only). There is a criminal level of my absolute insanity showing through in this fic. Kidnapping & imprisonment. Description of medical procedures. Blood & violence. Graphic description of injury & death. Scrub kink. Spit kink. Daddy kink. Blood kink. Humiliation, degradation, & name-calling. A variety of slapping. Rough sex. Unprotected sex. Overstimulation. Creampie. I cannot stress enough that this story is dark and disgusting.

A/N: I do believe I am at my most unhinged here, besties. Only God can judge me and even he’s afraid to do so. It would not hold any weight against the sheer size of my nasty whore brain, anyway. @buckysboobs: my love, my liege, my fellow scrub slut...every word of this is yours.

A lilting, jovial voice carries down the empty hall; dulcet tones singing along — only slightly off-key — to a familiar, poppy 90’s tune. From the various music you’ve overheard filtering out of the mysterious room located in the basement, you can definitely say that Steve’s taste in music while he works is eclectic — strange even — but that’s easily the least peculiar thing about him.

“We’re so good together

Tell me it’s forever, ‘cause I want you to stay”

As his diaphanous vocalizing calls to you like a siren song, you picture what he’s doing. All you can think about is how much you want to see it…the real thing and not just the image you’ve painted in your mind from his passionate, descriptive words; you want to witness him when he’s truly in his element. You just know he’s as expertly meticulous in slicing and dicing those on the receiving end of his ghastly propensities as he had been during all the surgeries he’s performed for entirely opposing purposes.

“I’ll be damned if I’m livin’ without ya

And as long as I live you will know”

Maybe it’s somewhat morbid, but you suppose it’s only human nature to be curious about those certain circumstances in the world which are most unnatural and — to put it simply — wrong. Regardless of the questionable rectitude of it all, you find yourself dying to be a spectator to his skills, no matter how gruesomely he chooses to wield that particular adroitness.

“I just wanna build my world around you

Don’t want you to go”

“Don’t leave me here with my restless heart,” you mutter, whispering along to the relatable words Steve now belts out from afar.

Your fingers tap rhythmically against the lumpy mattress to the tempo of the catchy drum beat, your low voice humming softly as your mind wanders. Steve had very nonchalantly made mention of his unusual appetite and particularly macabre proclivities and it was obvious he presumed your reaction would be one of unadulterated horror. Much to his disappointment, you hadn’t fed into his expectations and merely regarded him with general disinterest. The imprisoning chains that tethered you to the wall in this empty cell of a room hadn’t phased you either and it’s clear that your overall fearlessness befuddled him to no end.

Down the hall, Steve hums energetically to himself as he lays out his arsenal of tools. The sharp edge of his scalpel glints prettily in the overhead lamp when he holds it up for closer inspection then lays it gently on the tray beside the clamps and retractors. His latex-swathed fingers stick slightly to the paper sheet he flips over the body adorning the operating table, uncovering a pair of shapely legs and a rounded backside.

Noa’s ass really is quite nice. It’s such a shame he has to take it. She stirs and moans as he bathes her flesh with betadine in preparation. A jumbled stream of words seep from her drooling lips and her head swings with disorientation as she attempts to lift her heavy body.

“What…what are you doing?” she slurs.

Steve rolls around the table and peers at her from the stool he sits upon, regarding her with a cheerful grin. “I’m taking your ass!”

Noa whimpers and whines at his words when Steve rolls out of sight again, struggling fruitlessly to get away from him. She’s numb from the waist down and the only sensation she’s aware of is the galloping rhythm of her racing heart. An odd pressure blooms from where she should be able to feel her posterior and she screams in horrified objection.

“Tell me where you want me,” Steve sings to himself, the words bubbly but mumbled as he chews his lip with concentration. “Anytime…I don’t care.”

Initially, Steve had planned to finally get to work on you today. In truth, he just wanted to test you; push you to your absolute limit and see if you really are as fearless as you seem. A more personal and hands-on introduction to his unscrupulous little hobby would have been a perfect way to feel you out. Unfortunately, something more pressing had arisen and now he’s having to change things up. Noa had tried to escape, betrayed his trust in a way that could not go unpunished. And so it’s her draped so fetchingly across his sacrificial altar rather than you.

While he drags the blade of his scalpel delicately along the smooth edge of Noa’s rump and watches the rush of blood spill forth, his thoughts drift to you. He has never received such a lack of distress from one of his victims before. He’s come to expect utter hysterics: the screaming, the crying, the anxious denial, the thrashing about in an attempt to free yourself from your binds; he expected the bone-deep, animal instinct to escape.

Not you, though. Not even a little bit. You had merely watched him. Your eyelids fluttered at the initial unexpectedness of his revelation, but not once did the typical horror or dread flood your wide eyes. Instead, you observed him, searching his visage for something; he can’t quite identify just what you were looking for yet. Even after waking up chained in his basement and learning what your fate was to be, there wasn’t but a crumb of unease for him to feed off of. Steve simply cannot make sense of it. Can’t figure it out, can’t figure you out. He can’t get a read on you no matter how determinedly he endeavors to do so and he finds that ever so intriguing.

As far as he can tell, you only seem…interested. Asking inquisitive questions about what it’s like and how he does it. If he didn’t know any better, he’d almost dare to say you were fascinated by his tendencies. He had even gone as far as telling you how special you are for being so similar to him, though he suspects ‘fucked up’ ought to sum it up a little more accurately. He can’t help but wonder exactly how deeply your curiosity runs, although he’s not sure how he’s going to cope with whatever answer his question is met with.

Noa moans and blubbers pathetically, her subdued movements increasing with frightened agitation as he carves her like a prime cut of beef. Steve’s foot taps merrily and his chest swells with outright pride when he extracts a perfectly shaped chunk of flesh. His mind is occupied with the notion of what he could mold you into, in the event that you truly are as unaffected by his lifestyle as you seem to be. Though he knows the chances of you becoming malleable enough to satisfyingly bend to his will are quite slim, he can’t help entertaining the idea anyway. At the very least, if you’re not pliant, you’re still very much profitable. It’s a matter he’ll be sure to revisit in the very near future when his hands aren’t quite so full.

“‘Cause the hardest part is being alone,” you each sing in unison; you in your prison and Steve in Valhalla.

The sound of a struggle draws your attention out into the hallway and you sit up just in time to see Steve passing by. Dressed in the teal scrubs he usually wears when preparing his latest masterpieces, he glides past with a woman in tow. A woman in a tacky, dusty rose-colored dress who limps noticeably at his side.

You can’t help the pang of despondency that settles in your chest when you shuffle over to the slatted door and watch him ascending the stairs with her. He’d promised to allow you out for a shower today, though after seeing him escort another woman out of the basement, you no longer anticipate that happening. He’s forgotten all about you, too busy catering to the needs of the girl at his side; her chains rattling and her sullen face heavy with dread like a prisoner being led to the gallows. You envy her for all the attention she receives.

Noa. Sweet, sweet Noa. The latest object of Steve’s affections. You picked up on her name after all the conversations you overheard from the room next to yours. Conversations in which her farcical and manipulative tactics were glaringly obvious to you; you can only hope they’re just as clear to Steve. She doesn’t truly understand him. She isn’t what he needs, what he wants. Noa will never be like Steve, not the way you are.

Almost as quickly as the pair disappeared beyond the fortress of the basement door, they’ve suddenly returned; stumbling and grunting and causing a ruckus. Steve’s voice drifts down the stairs and the anger you hear in his words sends a bolt of electricity through your limbs.

“Goddammit, Noa!” he growls in a way that has you envisioning the tension in his jaw.

Their heavy footsteps echo throughout the basement, growing closer and closer as their scuffling gets louder. Noa screeches a litany of swears at Steve, her words affecting him about as much as her weakly clawing hands do. Her fingers scrabble hopelessly against his neck and chest, but he’s quick to stop her when he wrangles her bound wrists in one hand and grabs her hair with the other, spinning her and wrapping a strong arm around her.

Steve’s movements are clumsy and he steps jerkily, shoving the frantic woman with very little progress as he fights to thrust her back behind the door of her room. Noa refuses to go quietly however, and she reciprocates with an impressive show of strength considering how effectively Steve has her limbs pinned against the sides of her own body. Eventually, she manages to free one arm and she wrenches it back with alarming force, her elbow catching the sharp line of Steve’s jaw in the process. You hear his teeth clash together and with the roar of pain he unleashes, you can tell she got him pretty good.

“You fuckin’ bitch!” Steve hisses irately.

He bends at the waist and lurches sideways, crushing Noa against him and knocking her off balance with the momentum of his pitching body. Even from here, you spot the trickle of blood that flows from Steve’s lip. Growing more impatient with her disobedience, Steve yanks Noa right off her feet and carries her flailing body only a short distance before she kicks him so hard that he’s forced to drop her.

She falls to the ground with a heavy thwack and immediately begins scrambling away from Steve before climbing to her feet. Just as he tries to grab her by her long hair, Noa has spun around and cocked her head back, following through to smash the front of her skull directly into Steve’s face. Though he cries out and cradles his injured, bleeding nose, the headbutt appears to have done far more damage to Noa — whose forehead is now split open; blood streams down her striking features in two thick lines and begins to puddle near the base of the staircase.

Before she can run more than a few feet, Steve tackles her to the ground directly outside of your room — where you still stand at the door — and draws his fist back to hit her. Noa moves quicker, lifting a knee into his groin and forcing him into a position that makes it possible for her to shove him over onto his back. She straddles his waist, the blood pouring from her wound dripping all over Steve’s similarly bloodied face and chest as well as into her own open mouth. The hair that frames Noa’s face hangs in clumpy, ichor-soaked strands and when she coughs and screams, she sprays blood everywhere.

While she’s struggling to catch her breath and steadily growing weaker from blood loss, Steve’s hands delve into her brunette tresses and he propels her to his left, smashing her skull into the nearby wall with a sickening crunch. Though Noa is now motionless, Steve does not stop there; he climbs over her limp body and wraps both hands around her delicate throat. Something feral and vicious overcomes him as he repeatedly bashes her head against the concrete floor, his labored breaths dragging out of him with cyclical grunts as viscous drops splatter all over; coating his arms and clothing as well as the walls and his rage-twisted face.

When Steve finally disentangles his hands from Noa’s knotted locks and drops her with a repugnant thud as he rises, the hallway falls silent. Almost too silent. You swear you can hear the soft plip-plip-plip as the scarlet beads drip from the tips of his long fingers and crash against the concrete floor at his feet, speckling his white shoes with even more evidence of his crime. Blood collects in the crevasses of his knuckles and runs in gory rivulets over the veins that bulge along the expanse of his hands. He takes an unsteady step backwards until his back hits the wall and then slides down into a deep squat, his elbows resting on his bent knees. The fluid still dripping from his nostrils lands softly against the material stretched tight across his thighs.

There is blood everywhere. A clinging scent of iron infuses into the stale air of the basement and you can almost taste the copper on your moist tongue. You’re frozen in place; your own pulse pounding in your ears and your head reeling with confusion over the thrill you feel from the brutal show of stunning power you’ve just witnessed. Something blazing hot and galvanic courses through your bloodstream.

The once pristine front of Steve’s blue-green top is now splotchy and soaked in blood. It’s a pattern reminiscent of a Rorschach test and you wonder what a psychologist would have to say about all of the distinctly reprehensible things you see in it. With an exasperated breath, Steve drags the matching teal cap off of his skull and tips his head back until it thumps tiredly against the wall. He pushes a bloody palm through his disheveled hair, leaving a crimson smear near the graying hairs at his temple when his fingers thread through to wrestle the messy locks perfectly back into place. Muscles along his jaw ripple and tick as he clenches his teeth together and his chest swells mightily when he inhales.

“Fuck,” he sighs sadly. “I really liked her.”

He seems to be talking to himself more than to you, but when he turns his cold blue eyes in your direction, there’s no mistaking that he’s speaking directly to you. Almost as if he’s seeing you for the very first time, Steve’s mouth settles into a stern, guarded line as he eases out of his crouched position and stands, gaze locked unflinchingly onto you.

“You wanted a shower,” he states in such a way that you’re not sure whether it’s meant to be a question.

Steve notices that you aren’t even looking at him anymore. Your attention is focused entirely on the body at his feet, your eyes following the trail of blood that marks Noa’s path of struggle from the bottom of the stairs, down the hall to the wall opposite from you, then onto the ground where she ultimately met her demise.

Your eyes flick to Steve briefly when you hear a metallic jingling and watch him pull a familiar ring of keys from the pocket of his scrubs; the light material stained dark with blood that’s impossible to differentiate as entirely his own. He’s still glaring at you as he eases the key into the lock and slides the door open, leaving nothing between you but distance. There’s something chaotic and dangerous whirling in the haunting depths of his eyes and though you can’t quite put your finger on what it is, it’s got your stomach churning in anticipation and your heartbeat quickening with something feverish. When you step out of your room and towards the journeying and ever-expanding puddle of Noa’s blood, you find yourself hesitating. And Steve notices.

If there’s one thing he’s come to learn about you, it’s that you love to watch. You observe him closely when he walks by each day, study his every movement when he enters the room to bring you food and clothes and books to read; and this incident had been no different. Your eyes had been glued to him, taking in each and every second of his savage assault on poor Noa. Never once did you look elsewhere or shy away from the vulgar display of violence. As he holds an inviting hand out for you to take so that you can step over the grisly scene, he wants to see what you’re going to do.

He surveys you, waiting; his sapphire eyes peeled with rapt interest while yours blink, your brain attempting to catch up and process the deluge of conflicting emotions. With each relaxed shutter of your lids, he sees your pupils growing rapidly. Irises blotted out by the ravenous, inky pools. An unsteady sigh escapes you. Your face is dredged in arousal…just as he expected.

Steve moves so swiftly you don’t even see it coming. His hand strikes like a fierce viper and his eyes contain just as much venom as one. With the deathly grip he has on you, he wrenches you out of the room and over Noa’s corpse, whirling you around and smashing you hard into the opposite wall. You stand on your toes to relieve some of the pressure on your windpipe as your hands scratch uselessly against the strong wrist that keeps you pinned in place.

As you choke and gasp, Steve merely glares at your panic-stricken face, knowing you’re more afraid of him seeing what you are than you fear what he could do to you. He gives you a harsh shake, knocking your head so forcefully against the wall that your vision doubles momentarily. Before you can even make out what he’s doing, the sting of his wide palm rips across the highest point of your cheekbone. The smarting tingle is soothed only by the cooling moisture you know is left behind by the blood that transfers onto your skin, decorating your face with the mark of your own shame. You’re not sure anything will salve the burn of Steve’s next words.

“You’re fucking disgusting,” he snarls, slapping you again. “Did that turn you on?”

He tilts his head, gesturing to the woman sprawled across the floor and soaking in a pool of her own blood. His patronizing tone prompts tears to spring to your eyes more than the pain of his hand does and he scoffs in your face when he sees the moisture gathering.

“Yeah, you should be embarrassed,” he chuckles gravely.

Steve’s hand presses more harshly around your throat, lifting you almost entirely off your feet and forcing your eyes to cross with the lack of oxygen. His sinewy forearm is pinned between your bodies when he shoves the bulk of his weight against you. Through your blurring vision, you watch him lean close, eyes wolfish as his head tilts back and forth like a predator sizing up its prey.

The warmth exhalations escaping his nose — which has nearly stopped bleeding by now — brush over your skin along with the heat you feel emanating from his proximal body; the body that bears down on you relentlessly in such a dominant way that moisture spills between your thighs. Dampness seeps into your clothing from the blood that soaks Steve’s and you shift to escape the uncomfortable stickiness that grows. Although the pressure around your throat finally lessens, the impenetrable hold Steve has on you does not; his cold, critical irises could pin you in place just as effectively as his mighty hand.

“What kind of girl wants to fuck a killer?” Steve implores, further humiliating you. “You’re just a whore, aren’t you?”

When you don’t immediately respond, he constricts his fingers around your throat anew, but you can’t even deny how much wetter it makes you. He closes in on you, his lips a breath away from yours when he addresses you again.

“Tell daddy what a whore you are.”

“I’m a—”

You’ve uttered no more than two words when Steve lifts his hand and brazenly shoves two blood-crusted fingers between your lips. The long digits span the length of your tongue and immediately set off your gag reflex with their unexpected intrusion. He can’t help but groan at the delicious sounds of you choking on him. With his fingers depressing your tongue and his thumb braced against your upper teeth, he forces your mouth open so widely that your jaw cramps and he spits messily onto your tongue. His saliva dribbles down your chin and the added moisture dampens the dried blood on his fingers enough that you begin to taste the metallic tang.

You can’t help the way your nostrils flair with arousal and your vocal chords quiver with the moan you try to bite back when Steve presses his hips to yours; the hardened edge of his stiffness rubbing tauntingly against your cotton-clad thigh through the insubstantial material of his scrubs. The tiny, wanton sound flips a switch in Steve and he snaps. His fingers slip free from your messy mouth and the wet digits grasp fiercely at the waistband of your pants. He’s crouching in front of you before your lust-fogged brain can even catch up and he’s wrangled the stretchy fabric as well as one half of your panties over a single bare foot. By the time you realize, his chest is pressed to yours again.

When you think he’s descending upon you for a kiss, Steve’s fist bumps your stomach as he shifts his scrubs just enough to free his pulsing length. With little warning and even less preparation, he’s bent at the knees, shoving into you and splitting you apart with jarring force. Pulling you as close as he can, Steve’s sticky cheek presses hotly against yours as he fucks up into you with incredible strength.

A strangled moan tears from his throat and the animalistic sound has you clenching around the nearly unbearable girth that he pushes deeply into your yielding body. Steve hooks an arm under the crook of your bare knee and slaps his palms flat against the wall behind you, forcing you up on your toes and putting your sopping pussy on full display for his ravenous eyes.

“Can’t believe your tight little pussy is soaked over something so repulsive,” he taunts, his voice deep, dark, and raspy as he slows his thrusts to an agonizingly glacial pace so he can watch his cock disappear within your glistening flesh. “What a nasty little girl. Filthy fucking slut.”

A searing ache blossoms around your hips as he drags you down until you’re seated firmly against the hot skin of his pelvis. Though your arousal eases his way, it isn’t enough for how ruthlessly Steve desires to fuck you. He doesn’t care much for your comfort, but for the sake of his own, he needs you to be much, much wetter. Holding a hand out in front of your face, he instructs you to spit, electricity coursing through his already-tightening balls when you do. He mashes the spit-soaked palm into your face, smearing it over your mouth and up your cheek into your hairline, leaving your face a slippery and bloody mess.

“Again,” he demands, holding his hand out a second time.

This time when you spit, he angles his hips away from you and pulls his dick far enough out that he can slick your proffered saliva around the swollen shaft of it without ever leaving the sweet, silken warmth of your cunt.

Even with the added lubrication, it isn’t enough. He can’t possibly fuck you hard enough or deep enough like this. With that in mind, he hauls you off the wall and into his arms, swiftly pulling you off of his cock and depositing you onto the cold, hard floor. Without even having to be told, you’re on your knees; elbows pressed to the floor and your ass swaying invitingly before him. The sight of it nearly has him crumbling before he’s even had a chance to indulge in your pretty pussy.

Your pants are still half hanging on — wrapped around the thigh of one leg — though Steve is far too desperate to bury himself in your depths to bother divesting you of your clothes. As he grabs your hips with fervor and yanks you closer, your palms squeak along the concrete floor and the skin of your single bare knee protests against the uncomfortable friction. Steve ignores the moisture that seeps into his pants from the pool of blood he is kneeling in, far too focused on the thought of how much better leverage he can get fucking you in this position.

Steve’s dexterous thumbs dig impatiently into the soft muscle of your ass, spreading you open so he gets a perfect view of every dripping inch of you. The head of his cock nudges insistently against your opening before he sheathes himself in one smooth, consuming stroke; his ferocious groan mixing with your surprised whimper. His eyes devour the sight of your drenched pussy, eagerly and hungrily accepting his frenzied thrusts. Grabbing the hem of his scrub top, he pulls the garment upwards so he has an unobstructed view of your connected bodies, holding the teal fabric between his clenched teeth as he pumps violently into you. He tastes a hint of iron where the cloth makes contact with his tongue and his eyes roll.

“Oh, God,” he snarls, the short syllables drawn out as a long, low prayer when a flash of something blistering and primal tears through him.

A pathetic mewl parts your lips shamefully and you trap the tip of your tongue between your teeth to subdue the sounds that bubble from your chest. Steve is fucking you with abandon and the jarring impact of his strong hips leaves you powerless to keep quiet any longer. You’re more full than you’ve ever been and from this angle, Steve’s cock feels almost uncomfortably large.

Drops of your slimy arousal collect along his length with each rhythmic movement and your nerves are alight with the deliciously slick grinding of every precisely delivered thrust. You cry out for him over and over again, all shame swept away beneath the unbelievable pleasure of each breath-taking retraction of his hips that leaves you light-headed and crazed. With your fingers scrabbling at nothing and your body paralyzed with ecstasy, you can't do anything more than be entirely consumed by Steve’s brutal, hungry assault.

He can’t imagine how little dignity you must possess to give yourself up to him like this after what he just did. Even more than that, you actually have the gall to press your hips so greedily against him, taking him in to the hilt and soaking the thatch of hair at his thick base as you silently beg to be fucked.

“Didn’t your mother ever teach you any manners? Or do you need daddy to do it?” He bites out as he sets a commanding rhythm. “You need a lesson fucked into you, hmm?”

The slow, heavy drag of his cock along your damp walls weighs on your body, though not nearly as much as the dawning realization of how badly you want this does. Steve senses your submission to your own alarming desires and he’s filled with a renewed impulse to ruin you. His hands grip your hips with bruising force and he drags you even closer so that he can sheathe himself entirely, buried as deep as possible and bottoming out to the tune of your screeching cries.

Your knees skid across the floor and when you sweep a hand out to brace yourself against the cock that hammers relentlessly into your cunt, it drags through the disturbingly warm pool of Noa’s blood, slicking your palm and fingers in a sticky layer of fluid. Steve grips the hair at the base of your neck and wrenches you back; trapping you against his chest with one hand looped around your neck and the other gliding along your forearm to wrap around your wrist. He lifts your hand, twisting it behind your head so that he can slip your sanguineous fingers between his warm lips, tongue swirling wetly around the digits and lewdly slurping at the blood that stains them.

Blood gathers on his own fingers, his thumb in particular picking up a majority of it when the skin of your hand makes contact with his. Steve sweeps a smear of Noa’s blood over your bottom lip, then leans in to drag his tongue over the single drop that escapes. He sucks the crimson streaks from your chin and your soft lips, then pushes his tongue against yours as he kisses you like a man long starved of affection and intimacy; groaning in anguish when he feels your pussy clench and gush around his throbbing cock. His eyes observe you in an almost impressed fashion, his dick somehow growing harder at the notion of exactly how unexpectedly depraved you are.

“You make me sick,” he coughs warily, too feral to keep his voice calm or himself in check as he slaps you harshly again; though you only respond with a resounding, debased mewl of approval.

Contrary to his words, Steve wraps his arms around your torso to prevent you from moving and knocks your legs far apart to slam his cock harshly into your wetness. He moans brokenly, every muscle in his body tensed to fend off his unavoidable release. With each sound that bleeds from his mouth and rumbles steadily through your back, you get closer and closer to your own orgasm. When Steve sinks particularly deep into you, your toes curl and your eyes roll backwards as a gut-wrenching climax rips through you.

Steve embraces you with crushing strength while your sodden pussy ripples fiercely around him, threatening to set him off as well. He growls against the back of your neck, an iron scent tingeing his warm breath. He remains still only as long as you’re shivering against him, then he’s shoving you forward and forcing you to catch yourself with your palms clapping loudly against the floor.

“Didn’t even have to touch you and you’re soaking my cock,” he points out, swiftly amending the notion by delving his fingers between your thighs and reaching around his cock to stimulate your sensitive bundle of nerves.

He extracts his drenched erection only briefly, just long enough to land a harsh slap against your swollen flesh and sensitive clit before he’s spreading you open with his fingers and spearing you on his cock once more. A ragged scream erupts from you at the overwhelming sensation, though you can’t escape the hold Steve keeps on your left hip. Instead, you collapse before him, your chest pressing uncomfortably to the ground as he wrenches a second agonizing orgasm from your weak body.

As he pummels and handles you mercilessly, you turn your head to the side and rest your sweaty cheek against the cool concrete as tears spill freely. From this angle, your face is mere centimeters from the pool of Noa’s blood and the sickly, cloying aroma invades your senses. With each panting breath Steve knocks from your lungs, you send ripples dancing along the ruby puddle like the winds of a gentle storm over a gory ocean.

Steve’s body pitches over you then, his palm slapping wetly in the blood and sprinkling a mist over your face and your parted lips. His hips mold tightly against your backside as his hand glides through the slippery fluid and his weight falls upon you. The humid wetness of Steve’s bloodied palm is shocking when he lifts it, lays it across your cheek, and forces your face harder into the ground. His middle two fingers press imploringly along your lips, separating them and slipping into your drooling mouth to hook around your cheek and pin you in place.

“Fuck, I’m gonna—” he mutters, his hips stuttering and his pleasured moan shaky, broken. “Aghh, fuck!”

In turn, you whimper around Steve’s slender fingers and cum around his pulsating length; your tongue laving the gore-splattered flesh as you feel him explode inside you — spilling a flood of warmth into your womb — and your cunt bearing down with excruciating vigor. His movements never cease even after he finishes and your body tingles with overstimulation as he keeps fucking you slowly, brutishly, persistently. He doesn’t stop forcing himself into your sloppy cunt until your limbs are shaking and your body utterly wrung out, incapable of giving him even a single orgasm more. By the time he softens inside you, you’re both slicked in cum, blood, sweat, and spit.

Steve grunts above you like an animal, sated and fulfilled. His sticky cock pulls from your spent pussy amongst a flood of his thick seed and he bites his lip at the indecency of the salacious sight. As he falls backwards against the wall, he pulls you along with the arm still wrapped around your quivering body. With his legs spread wide and his limbs hanging limply at his sides, he allows you to flop between his knees, your cheek situated along the hard ridge of his shin. He feels your tiny, exhausted breaths puffing against his flesh through the thin, ruined material of his scrubs; unable to help feeling somewhat inspired by your thoroughly perverted debauchery. Perhaps he has finally met his match; you’re so fucked up he thinks he may keep you around after all.

Sebastian Stan Masterlist ✦ Writing Masterpost

#probably gonna knock tf out as soon as i post this so leave me something nice to wake up to if u want <3 #this post is sponsored by peter cetera solely for the fact that i listened to restless heart on repeat for LITERAL HOURS while writing it #why go to therapy when you can just write things like this for FREE?#ZEE MY LITTLE DEMON THIS IS FOR U...A REWARD FOR ALL THE NASTY THOUGHTS YOU SO GENEROUSLY CHOOSE TO GRACE US WITH #steve kemp x reader #steve kemp x reader fanfiction #steve kemp x reader smut #steve kemp fanfiction #steve kemp smut #steve kemp #fresh #fresh spoilers #fresh fanfiction #fresh the movie #sebastian stan fanfiction #sebastian stan #steve kemp x you

1K notes · View notes

jungshookz · 3 years

Text

maybe, she can drive his car; mechanic!yoongi

➺ pairing; mechanic!yoongi x spoiledbrat!y/n

➺ genre; mechanic!yoongiverse!! sfw!! honk honk humour!! some suggestive behaviour because this is mechanic!yoongi and his y/n we're talking about!! the green-eyed monster inside of y/n is awoken after being dormant for so long and she's ready to bite some heads off

➺ wordcount; 11.6k

➺ summary; yoongi's ex is back in town for a visit and you'd be lying if you said you weren't slightly envious of a) how knowledgeable she is about stupid cars and b) how well she gets along with literally everyone.

➺ what to expect; "right, about that- i know i was supposed to come over for dinner tonight but- listen, i don't know what lisa did but obviously she's got a lot of connections now and the shop has literally never been this busy before... you understand, don't you?"

➺ currently spinning on the record player; mustang sally (originally by wilson pickett, covered by andrew strong)

(unfortunately i wasn’t able to track down the original maker of this gif but this is where i sourced it from! all credits go to the original creator of course :-))

»»————- 🛠️ ————-««

namjoon usually doesn't pay too much attention to you whenever you're hanging out at the workshop with everyone because of how often you're here, but there's something about the way you're acting today that even he has to admit is oddly very...

cute?

and it's not that you're not cute all the time (because you totally are!!) but it's just that the version of you today in particular is suddenly making him want to go off and find a y/n of his own

"whatcha doing?"

namjoon jolts in surprise when a grimy hand suddenly burrows itself into the warm bag of freshly-popped popcorn that he has cradled to his chest and he scowls before turning his body away slightly

"hey, you're contaminating the popcorn, man-" he huffs, quickly grabbing the mega-sized pack of hand wipes from the desk before plopping it down on the countertop for jungkook, "at least have the decency to wipe your hands before digging into my popcorn- also, i'm watching. duh."

"watching?" jungkook frowns as he sloppily wipes his hands on the front of his shirt, turning to look out the open door, "watching what?"

"yoongi and y/n." namjoon hums, popping a couple of kernels into his mouth with a crunch, "she's been following him around like a little duckling all day."

"mm." jungkook props an elbow up on the counter as he looks towards the two of you before clicking his tongue, "...he must've really given it to her good last night if she's acting like that-"

"okay, now you've ruined the moment-" namjoon frowns, his shoulders dropping slightly before he gestures to you guys, "it's sweet! this is obviously a wholesome thing-"

"call it what you want, but all i'm trying to say is that good sex makes you do crazy things-" jungkook snorts before aggressively shoving a handful of popcorn into his mouth, "cravy phings."

"i'd like to argue that good sex forms a strong emotional bond which explains why there are cartoon hearts currently floating around y/n's head-" namjoon perks up when he notices the way your eyes light up at something yoongi says, "look at her! look at the way she's looking at him!"

"oh, please." jungkook tuts, "that dopey look on her face is telling me that the only thing on her mind is yoongi bending her over the hood of that car and just ramming-"

"namjoon and jungkook are arguing again." you point out, turning to look towards the office just in time to see namjoon throw a handful of popcorn at jungkook only for him to open his mouth and chomp wildly at the air to get some into his mouth

"jungkook probably said something stupid, as per usual." yoongi snorts, leaning over to lock the hood of the car into place before pulling away and taking a look at the situation, "now, let's see what we have going on here..."

when namjoon told him that this was a brake master cylinder repair he immediately felt all the excitement leave his body

he hates doing brake master cylinder repairs

all the parts are so small and the handiwork is super tedious anD the last time he did one of these he took like four hours to get it done

overall it's a pretty boring repair job and as much as he wants to pass it off to one of the others to do, he knows that he's the most skilled with the internal mechanics of a car compared to everyone else which he usually likes to brag about but today he wishes that that wasn't the case

"so what do you have to do?" you frown, stepping over so that you're standing by the side of the car and you're not in yoongi's way, "all the thingies look fine to me."

"well, i actually need to replace the brake master cylinder thingy." yoongi teases, smiling lightly as he points at some kind of container, "there's a leak in the seals, which is pretty common since they wear out after a few years. it should be an easy fix! it'll just take a while, that's all."

luckily, taehyung already took care of the messy part and emptied the fluid from the reservoir for him so now it's time to start the actual repair process

"so does beeper have one of these cylinders in him?" you ask, tilting your head in curiosity

you've never actually taken a look at beeper's under the hood situation before so you wouldn't know

(it feels like he's all naked and exposed whenever yoongi lifts his hood up and you just want to give beeper some privacy, that's all.)

"if beeper didn't have one of these cylinders in him, you wouldn't be able to brake, silly." yoongi snorts, reaching down to unclip the sensor from the reservoir, "see, when you push down on the brake, it pushes a piston through the cylinder and forces hydraulic fluid through the brake lines, which goes to the slave cylinders of each wheel, and then-" he pauses when he notices you've gone all quiet and he turns to see you staring directly at him with a dopey little smile on your face "-what? what'd i say?"

"i like it when you talk shop to me." you giggle quietly, "i mean, i don't understand 98% of the words that come out of your mouth when you do, but i still like it a lot-"

"yeah?" yoongi teases, taking a hand off the edge of the car so he can gesture for you to come closer (and you do, obviously), "you like it when i talk to you about... hm, i don't know..." he feigns cluelessness as he stands up to slink an arm around your waist and bring you towards him while your arms automatically hang loosely around his neck, "how the rubbing of the brake pad against the brake disc generates friction..." he lowers his voice as he sits lightly on the edge of the car and gives your hips a squeeze

"mm, tell me more..." you play along, letting yoongi pull you closer so that you're settled nicely in between his legs

"i don't know, maybe i should save all the good stuff for the bedroom..."

you resist the urge to immediately start whining when you lean in only for yoongi to dodge your kiss, "hey, i like you in these baggy overalls, by the way." he suddenly changes the subject and you feel your cheeks flush when both his hands slide in through the gaps until he's able to grip your bum, "big, big fan of them-"

"you- namjoon and jungkook are right there-" you gawk, "at least have the decency to turn me around so they don't see you fully groping me-"

"they can always just close their eyes or something-"

"okay, you two, break it up-!" you hear namjoon's claps echoing from the office as he tries to get your attention and you immediately turn to look at him with a grin, "god, it's like you sick freaks want to rub it in our faces-"

"okay, i have to get to work so why don't you go and hang out with namjoon in the office?" yoongi stands up, being careful not to hit the top of his head on the hood, "he'll let you play chess on the computer if you ask nicely."

"i thought i was helping you out today!" you frown, grabbing onto his hand before waving it back and forth, "you said i did a good job handing you the tools and stuff. i'm getting better at not mixing all the different types of screwdrivers up!"

yoongi can't help but laugh at how needy you're being and he reaches up with his free hand to adjust his bandana

"i know you wanna help, but i promise you there's nothing exciting about repairing a master cylinder." he hums, reaching up to pinch your cheek playfully, "plus, don't you still have a huge research paper to work on?"

"yeah, but i'd much rather hang out with you..." you pout, yoongi cooing before leaning in to give your pushed-out bottom lip a little kiss

"we can hang out when we're both done with work."

"okay..." you purse your lips before letting go of his hand, "it's your loss. i'm a fantastic helper."

"mhm, you certainly are-" yoongi spins you around before pushing his palm against your lower back to get you to move, "now go and bug namjoon!"

you turn back to glance at yoongi one last time and he sweeps his hands at you to tell you to gO

fine!

it was getting hot in the garage anyway and namjoon always has the aircon blasting in the office

"sorry! only sad, single people are allowed in this area-" namjoon jokes as soon as you step in, gesturing to the office space with a grin, "leave or i'll have security escort you out."

"oh, stop it." you giggle, folding your arms up on the counter and leaning forward, "i keep telling you i'd be more than happy to set you up with one of my friends!!"

"i know, and that's very nice of you to offer, but i just want to find someone organically, you know?" namjoon sighs, leaning back against his chair before looking up at the ceiling wistfully, "being set up with someone doesn't feel like a natural process."

"namjoon thinks he's the main character of a shitty netflix romantic comedy." jungkook mutters, the two of you exchanging low giggles with each other

"well, if no one comes into your life organically you can always let me know and i'll- woah-" you jump in surprise when the sound of a roaring engine suddenly shatters the peaceful atmosphere and you turn around just in time to see a sleek car veering into the shop

you wince and raise a hand to shield your eyes from the bright headlights and you don't get a chance to make the first comment because jungkook beats you to it

(for the record, you were going to talk about how dramatic of an entrance whatever that was)

"oh my god. that is the sexiest car i've ever seen in my entire life." he breathes out, stepping away from the counter so he can stand by the door and get a closer look, "a 1965 mustang. nice."

"fun fact: i was actually thinking about getting a vintage mustang! i wanted an olive green one because i could've named her 'olive' which is super cute-" you nod enthusiastically, looking back and forth between namjoon and jungkook only for them to.,., completely ignore you and continue staring at the glossy mustang sitting out front

"okay, you guys, it's just a car-" you roll your eyes and let out a little snort of disbelief, "this isn't going to change your life or anything-"

a high-heel clad foot steps out of the car and onto the pavement and you immediately recognize the classic red-bottom louboutins

you actually own a pair of them as well but you rarely wear them out because you're always paranoid that you're going to topple over and snap an ankle and that would be completely mortifying

they're six inches tall!!!!

for the record, they look very nice sitting (collecting dust) on your shelf but now you're starting to think that it might be a good idea to wear them out again because this stranger makes it look like walking in them is easy breezy beautiful

"holy shit. is that lisa?" namjoon murmurs, reaching up to push his glasses up the bridge of his nose, "oh, wow. she..."

"i don't remember her looking like that the last time we saw her." jungkook whistles lowly, "hello, miss manoban."

"lisa- who's lisa?" you frown, tilting your head in curiosity as you watch this mysterious lisa toss her oversized sunglasses into the front seat of the car before slamming the door shut

"uh, she's just one of yoongi's exes- she actually used to work here but-" namjoon reaches over the counter so he can nudge you aside gently to get a better look, "when did she get a vintage mustang?!"

lisa leans down to look at herself in the side mirror, smearing some red lipstick over her pillowy bottom lip before rubbing her lips together and nodding satisfactorily

"guess her car-wrapping business really took off." jungkook hums, his eyes glued to the car

she seems to be moving in slow motion as she takes her hair down and shakes her head back and forth, the three of you tilting your heads at the same time as you watch her in awe

"car-wrapping?" you ask curiously, "she must spend a fortune on wrapping paper and giant bows-"

"no, obviously it's not actual wrapping- like-" jungkook huffs and you resist the urge to bop him over the head at how snappy he's being with you when he already knows you're clueless when it comes to this kind of stuff, "okay, you know how you said that if you ever got a g-wagon for yourself one day that you wanted to make it baby blue just like beeper and also matte? lisa could do that for you."

"oh! in that case, it might be nice to get a business card from her or something-" you make a mental note before shaking your head and turning back around to face namjoon, "hey, so, super casual, can we round back to the whole 'yoongi's ex' thing real quickly because i-"

"yoohoo, boys!" lisa whistles, grinning excitedly when she's suddenly joined by everyone outside one by one, "what, no one thought to roll out the red carpet for me?"

"c'mon, namjoon! let's go say hi to lisa and her vintage 'stang!!" jungkook grins, gesturing for namjoon to hurry before he's darting out the door, "lisa, hey!"

"yeah, okay!!" namjoon gets up from his seat so quickly that he sends his chair rolling back and smacking against the file cabinets, "oh, y/n-! if anyone calls, just send them straight to voicemail-"

"but i-" you don't get a chance to say anything before namjoon's brushing past you and dashing out the door as well

you don't know too much about lisa but obviously she's a pretty big deal around here

it'd probably be good for you to go and introduce yourself instead of awkwardly hanging out in the office by yourself

"hello, lisa. it's very nice to meet you. firm handshake." you mutter to yourself as you step out of the office and head towards the bustling group of boys, "hey, lisa! so great to meet you. firm handshake. hi, girlie-! nope, don't like that one-"

"-in town for business so i thought it'd be nice to swing by and visit my boys." you manage to catch the end of lisa's sentences as you join the boys, trying not to make any sudden movements to catch her attention

"you should've texted one of us or something!" namjoon pulls his phone out of his back pocket, "we could've ordered a pizza for lunch-"

you reach over to give the back of yoongi's jumpsuit a little tug just to get his attention and he glances over his shoulder at you before offering you a teasing smile and reaching back to wiggle his fingers against your stomach

you giggle lightly before swatting his hand away and he turns back to look at lisa

"well, i wanted to surprise you guys!" lisa chirps, tucking her clutch underneath her armpit before clapping her hands together, "i see nothing's changed around here... except for..." you feel your heart drop when she suddenly leans over and looks directly at you, "hello! i don't think we've ever met."

"oh, shoot- sorry, i should've introduced you sooner-" yoongi steps aside so that he isn't blocking you, "lisa, this is y/n! y/n, this is lisa." he smiles, gesturing towards lisa, "my girlfriend." he pauses and quickly shakes his head at his little flub-up, "i mean- lisa, this is y/n, my girlfriend-"

"he's definitely gonna pay for that later." jimin mutters, jungkook snickering before nudging at his side to get him to shut up

"it's super nice to meet you, y/n!" lisa doesn't acknowledge yoongi's error and she steps forward to get closer to you

she's practically towering over you but it's really just because of the stilettos

she turns her head to look at the boys and a second of silence goes by before they realize what she's asking of them and they all scatter in different directions

you give yoongi a look that basically screams S.O.S. and you resist the urge to burst into tears when he gives you a cheery thumbs up in return and trots off to go and do something else

okay

you'll be fine

you have nothing to be nervous about!

this is just yoongi's very hot ex who looks like a million bucks while you'e currently dressed like a giant toddler

it doesn't help that you're wearing what's commonly known as a 'baby tee' under these overalls

"you- yeah, you too-" you chuckle uneasily, giving her a weak handshake before pulling away with a smile, "i'm sorry, i'm a little underdressed-" you pause to gesture to the grubby overalls you have on, "i promise i look better than this most of the time..."

"oh, don't be silly. i just grabbed the first outfit i saw out of my suitcase and threw it on-" she sighs, reaching up to pick some lint off her blazer that you're pretty sure you saw in the most recent YSL spring catalog (in fact, you're pretty sure it's on your to-buy list), "so, what do you do?"

"me? i- uh, well, nothing, at the moment- i'm still studying for my undergraduate degree, so..." you shrug sheepishly, reaching up to scratch the back of your neck

for some reason you can't seem to maintain eye contact with her for more than three seconds at a time

"oh! you're still in school?"

"yeah, i- well, i'm graduating this year, so i'm almost out of school if you think about it that way- but yes. yes, i... am currently a university student, so that's what i'm doing."

"mm, cute! what are you studying?"

"history! i'm a history major and a marine biology minor." you nod, "so... the cold war and... like, sharks. something like that."

"ah, very cool."

to be honest you're not entirely sure if lisa's being sincere or not but you'll take the compliment either way

you can tell she's trying to scope you out - which is fair, because this is the first time you two are meeting and you're currently involved with someone she used to be involved with

"i'm sorry. i'm probably, like, freaking you out right now, aren't i?" lisa snorts, reaching out and placing her hand on your forearm for a split second, "i promise i'm just genuinely curious and i'm not trying to, like, interrogate you or anything. it's super nice to meet you! and honestly- i love the overalls. the little knee patches are adorable."

"oh, thank you..." you smile nervously, reaching down to glance at the mismatched patches of fabric sewn onto the knees of your overalls, "yoongi actually sewed 'em on for me! i usually wear this whenever i'm here because i'm okay with getting it dirty- i, um, i like your blazer! and your heels. and your purse- a chanel clutch is a classic!"

"ooh, someone has an eye for fashion..." lisa winks, raising her clutch and waving it slightly, "maybe after i'm done talking business with yoongi we can talk about gucci's new multicolour line-"

"oh, i have so many thoughts on gucci's new multicolour line!" you gasp, suddenly reignited with a spurt of energy, "honestly the colour scheme is very stabilo highlighters to me but we can talk about it later- i'll just be hanging out in the office, so you can find me there whenever you're ready-"

"perfect!" lisa gives you a thumbs up before pointing over to where yoongi is, "if you'll excuse me, i have to go and talk about boring things with yoongi-"

"mhm!" you watch with a smile as lisa click-clacks off towards yoongi before you spin around on your heels, giving yourself a mental pat on the back for how well you handled that interaction

lisa's actually nicer than you thought she'd be!

obviously the saying don't judge a book by its cover is very applicable here

"so... what'd you think of lisa?" namjoon joins your side before nudging you gently, "she's nice, right?"

"i like her! she seems really cool." you nod enthusiastically, pausing to glance over your shoulder to look at her from behind, "i need to ask her for tips on walking in those louboutins and how not to fall over."

"you know, i must say i'm pleasantly surprised at how you're handling this." namjoon snorts, holding back for a second to let you into the office first before he steps in behind you, "colour me impressed!"

"thank you!" you reach over to pull the lollipop jar towards you before suddenly pausing and looking back over at namjoon with a frown, "hold on a sec, what's that supposed to mean?"

"hm? oh, it's nothing." namjoon scrunches his nose, dismissing you with a flick of his wrist as he takes his seat behind the counter, "i just know that if i was in your shoes and my significant other's very attractive and very successful ex came back i would be a little antsy about it-" namjoon glances up from the computer and his eyes widen in panic when he notices that your eyes have widened in panic, "i- i mean- not that you're not very attractive and very successful- what i'm trying to say is that you have nothing to worry- you and yoongi seem like a very stable couple so-"

"do you think maybe you could tell me a bit about yoongi and lisa?" you interrupt his spiral and you feel yourself starting to get a little fidgety, "because i- i actually don't know anything about that situation-"

namjoon has a point, now that you think about it

lisa is very successful and very attractive and can walk in high heels very elegantly

and what about you?

yesterday you submitted a paper one minute before the deadline because of how much procrastinating you had done

and you haven't worn heels in forever because they just hurt so much

but lisa wouldn't complain about her feet hurting in high heels

lisa could have a hundred blisters and still walk into the room with a beautiful, red-lipped smile

"has he never told you about her?" namjoon frowns, "i feel like every couple should at least have one conversation about their past relationships."

"i think he tried to one time, but i- i dunno, you can't blame me for not wanting to sit there and listen to yoongi talking about all the girls he's been with, so i just changed the subject..." you mutter, pushing the jar away from you after pulling a strawberry lollipop out, "kind of regretting that decision now."

it's not like you have a reason to be insecure or anything, right?

your relationship with yoongi is very solid and there are certainly no trust issues or communication issues or anything of the sort

...

but he is your first boyfriend...,., and this is your first serious relationship which means you've had no prior experiences to learn from which means you're just going with the flow most of the time.,., so is it possible that you're being a little naïve right now?

"still, i don't think me telling you all the details of their relationship is a good idea because i feel like this is a conversation you should be having with yoongi-" namjoon chuckles nervously, leaning back against his chair before tucking a pencil behind his ear, "sorry, kiddo. i'm not trying to stir the pot here."

"i- oh, c'mon, joon- what's it gonna take, huh?" you reach into the front pocket of your overalls before subtly flashing a folded up hundred dollar bill, pursing your lips slightly as your eyes flicker back and forth between namjoon and your chest-money, "hm??"

"first of all, it's very concerning to me that you stash loose cash in your pocket like that. second of all, are you really trying to bribe me into telling you about yoongi and lisa?" namjoon asks incredulously

"what?! no!" you scoff, tucking the bill back into your pocket before pausing and raising an eyebrow, "...is it working?"

"no! in fact, i find it offensive that you think i'd be so easily swayed-"

"the next time i bring sushi for lunch, i'll get you your own mango shrimp tempura roll." you offer, namjoon staring at you blankly before he suddenly springs into action

"so, they used to sleep together, obviously." he clears his throat, "when lisa started working here, i kind of expected her to get involved with one of us and unsurprisingly it was yoongi, because... well, it's yoongi- i'm pretty sure it was a friends with benefits kind of thing because i remember asking him about it and he said they didn't want to put a label on it? and then at one point jimin asked lisa about it because all of us were super curious and she called it a 'situationship'... which, personally, i think is a pretty cheesy label- i dunno, they'd go out to dinners sometimes and occasionally they'd come into work together in the morning because- well, you know- uh, they were in this 'situationship' for... maybe, like, eight months? and then lisa got an opportunity to work elsewhere and she took it and they decided to call it off and fast forward to now... here we are!" namjoon claps his hands together before pressing his palm over his heart, "and i promise you that's all the information i have- well, maybe this piece of information might be useful to you: they were, like, super horny for each other all the time. like, almost outrageously horny, which i think is one of the downfalls of the relationship because you can't base a solid relationship off of animalistic sex, right? ooh, there was one time i caught them in yoongi's office and lisa was-"

"okay, i think that's enough-!" you hold a hand out to shut namjoon up and he shrugs before leaning back against his chair, "more than enough, actually-"

you weren't expecting to learn about the raw, animalistic sex yoongi had with lisa, but then again, you weren't expecting to even meet lisa at all

oh, god

should you be nervous??

you shouldn't be nervous, right??

...yeah, you're being ridiculous!

yoongi has been with other girls before and that shouldn't bother you because you didn't exist then

this has nothing to do with you!

so what if he bent her over the office table and-

okay, maybe it's time to stop thinking about this because the point is: you're fine. don't worry. everything is normal. yoongi is your boyfriend. lisa is his ex. everything is great!

"by the way, i want you to know that you honestly have nothing to worry about." namjoon suddenly chimes in as if he can read your mind, "lisa was yoongi's past but you are his present and most likely his future as well, so- seriously, don't even worry about it."

"yeah, you're right. it'd be silly of me to be upset about yoongi being with someone else when i wasn't even in the picture yet." you snort, reaching up to smack your own forehead gently, "okay! i'm feeling a little better. it would've been nice to not be informed about how horny they were for each other, but thank you for that detail-"

"yo, where are the snap ring pliers from my toolbox?" you turn just in time to see yoongi pop his head in, "i can't find them anywhere... i swear to god, everyone keeps borrowing my tools and 'forgetting' to put them back-" he rolls his eyes before looking over at you with a smile, "hi, baby-"

"hi yoongi-" you giggle, all your doubts and insecurities immediately fluttering away

see? nothing to worry about!

phEw

it feels like a weight's been lifted off your shoulders

"i think hoseok might've been using them earlier this morning." namjoon hums, "what do you need them for?"

"oh, lisa offered to help me out with the master cylinder repair and she needs 'em." yoongi points back over his shoulder, "you know how great she is with her hands-"

"woah, i thought-" your voice cracks slightly and you clear your throat, "i thought, uh- you were working on it yourself? like, i thought you didn't need any help and that's why i'm in here-"

"oh, i don't, but- well, lisa's good with fine-tuning so i might as well take advantage of her expertise while she's here." yoongi snorts before looking back over at namjoon, "you said hoseok had them?"

"yep!"

you bite down on your tongue to keep yourself from commenting any further

it's fine!

as we've already established, you have nothing to worry about.

...right?

»»————- 🛠️ ————-««

"and... voilà!" you smile satisfactorily to yourself after you set the scented candle down on the coffee table

the living room is going to smell like warm brown sugar and cinnamon in a few minutes and you can't wait

this is yoongi's favourite candle so you hope he'll be excited about that when he gets here :'))

you've been preparing the apartment for his arrival and lighting the candle was one of the last things on your to-do list

you still have to order dinner for tonight and you've always been awful at making decisions so you figured it'd be best to let yoongi choose instead

you haven't seen him for about a week and a half because of finals (and, being perfectly honest, you were the one who implemented this distancing rule in the first place because you know you won't be able to focus on studying when yoongi's in the apartment with you) so you're pretty pumped for tonight!!

you hum to yourself as you click on yoongi's phone number in your contacts, flopping back on the couch with a fwump! while your legs swing lazily over the arm

"hello?"

the phone picks up after a couple of rings and it takes you a second to realize that the voice on the other end certainly does not belong to your boyfriend

"he-" you pause, pulling your phone away from your ear and frowning at the unfamiliar voice before bringing it back, "um, hello?"

"hi! who's this?"

"who's this?" you point to yourself before scoffing lightly, "what do you mean who- who's this?"

"oh- oh, y/n! hey, it's lisa!" lisa greets enthusiastically and you relax a little knowing that it's just lisa, "sorry, i didn't look at the contact name before picking up- what's up?"

"well, i-" you pause again to recollect your thoughts, "um, sorry, i guess i was just expecting yoongi to pick up his own phone so i'm a little lost right now-"

"oh my gosh, don't even worry about it! yoongi's hands are super gross right now so i offered to take his call for him which is why i picked up the phone. is there something you wanted me to pass along to him?"

"yeah, you could pass his phone right along to him-" you joke before reminding yourself to keep the unnecessary cattiness to a minimum, "yeah, um- can you ask him what time he's coming over? so that i know what time to order our food and stuff? i want the food to still be nice and hot by the time he gets here, so i just need a time from him, that's all-"

"yeah, about that... i actually don't think yoongi's going to make it for dinner."

"i-" you frown, pushing yourself up so that you're leaning back against an elbow, "what? why not?"

"the thing is, i hooked him up with a bunch of clients so the poor thing's been working like a dog all day and it looks like he's going to be stuck here for a while... if you're worried about him skipping dinner, i can totally go and get some food for him if you want! there's this sandwich place a block away and i know what he likes-"

your eyes widen slightly at how... happy? lisa sounds about the fact that yoongi potentially won't be joining you for dinner and you nod to yourself as you clench your jaw

"that's- that's very kind of you, lisa-" your voice is a little pitchier than usual at this point and you clear your throat obnoxiously, "i'm sorry, i just really have to talk to yoongi for a second so if you could just, like, hold the phone up to his ear that would be okay too-"

"okay! gimme a sec." there's a bit of shuffling on the other end and you press your lips together as you wait (im)patiently, "yoongs! it's y/n... dinner... hot food... her place... clients... pretty busy tonight..."

and she even has a nickname for him

that's just downright adorable, isn't it?

"god, just give him the damn phone." you mutter under your breath, raising your other hand to inspect your cuticles as you lie back down on the couch

you should probably schedule another manicure soon

"-it's okay, i can hold the phone myself- y/n?" you perk up when you hear yoongi on the other end and you can't help but kick your legs in excitement

you can't help it!!!

you haven't heard his voice in a whole week and a half!!!

"greetings, yoongs." you tease, "what time are you going to be here?" you bypass lisa's whole monologue about yoongi probably not being able to come over tonight in hopes that she'll be wrong about him ditching you to continue working, "i wanna order the food so it'll get here a little before you arrive. also, i haven't chosen what we're going to eat tonight so you're going to have to choose for us-"

"right, about that-" yoongi clears his throat, "i know i was supposed to come over for dinner tonight but- listen, i don't know what lisa did but obviously she's got a lot of connections now and the shop has literally never been this busy before..." he pauses and you hear the sound of loud clanging in the background, "you understand, don't you?"

it takes you a couple of seconds to process the fact that yoongi really won't be coming over tonight and you puff your cheeks out to keep yourself from immediately whining in protest

to say the least, you are.,.,,. very disappointed,.., but!! it won't be the end of the world, right?

you hate that lisa was right, but that's a conversation you can have with yourself another time

and if yoongi won't be here, that means you can hog all the garlic cheesy bread to yourself so maybe this is a blessing in disguise >:-)

"no, yeah, i- yeah, get it!" you nod, "i love that business is booming, i just don't love that you didn't text me or call me earlier to let me know you weren't going to come over tonight," you frown, turning your head to look at the flickering candle, "a heads up would've been nice, that's all..."

"i asked lisa to text you earlier when my hands were full... sorry, she must've forgot..."

"oh. yeah, i guess it could've slipped her mind." you respond dryly, "it would've taken, like, five seconds to text me-"

"okay, i-" you hear yoongi let out a small sigh before he speaks up again, "i'm sorry, baby, i really am- do you- i can come over now if you want me t-"

"no, it's okay! i'm sorry, i'm just-" you shake your head quickly before chuckling uneasily, "i just haven't seen you in a while so i miss you, that's all- but i'll let you get back to work now and i'll see you later?"

"yes! you are the best, you really are- look, i promise i'll be all yours as soon as i-"

"yoongi! these tires aren't going to change themselves, silly-"

"oh, c'mon-" you grumble, your teeth grinding slightly at the interruption of lisa's peppy voice in the background

"uh- yeah, in a sec-! i gotta go, doll- i'll call you later-"

"okay, b-" you don't get a chance to even say goodbye before the line goes dead and the only thing you can hear is an obnoxious beeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep- "-ye."

»»————- 🛠️ ————-««

one of your goals for the new year was to try your best to not hold a grudge

admittedly, holding grudges is one of your specialties so it's been a little bit difficult but you think you've been doing an okay job so far!

like that time jungkook accidentally drowned you with dirty car water because he didn't see you and also he had headphones on so he couldn't hear you

you were ready to strangle him right then and there but you just took a deep breath and reminded yourself that *~deep-cleaning services exist~*

and sure, you were a little upset that yoongi couldn't make it for dinner the other night and that the two of you haven't really had a chance to have a moment alone because of how swamped he's been with work, but... well, the past is in the past and challenges like this are good for your personal growth!

plus, it's the start of a new week so you're just going to focus on the present

you try your best to keep your footsteps as quiet as possible as you approach a preoccupied yoongi from behind

he's currently sorting out all the things to do on his giant whiteboard (you bought this for the boys because you thought it'd be a good way to organize all their tasks and unsurprisingly, namjoon was the most excited about it)

"guess who?" you hold your hands over yoongi's eyes with a giddy smile and he immediately spins around to face you

"hey, what are you doing here?" yoongi asks, leaning down to give you a quick kiss before pulling away to check the time on his watch, "aren't you supposed to be in class right now?"

"my history seminar was cancelled because my professor had some kind of an emergency so i thought i'd come and have lunch with you guys!" you hum, reaching over to fix the thin silver chain hanging around yoongi's neck, "i was going to pick the food up before coming here but i didn't want to just choose for everyone so i thought it'd be better to get everyone's orders first-"

"oh, you don't have to do that, baby-" yoongi shakes his head, capping the marker and dropping it back into the wire holder, "lisa actually offered to treat us to lunch- apparently there's some bagel place that has, like, a hundred different fillings-"

"lisa's here?" you interrupt, suddenly straightening your back before looking around quickly, "i... was not aware that lisa was... still here! i thought she was only here for a little while-"

"mm, she ended up extending her stay! one of her clients pushed their appointment to thursday so she came over to help out for the day."

"oh, cool." you nod, pressing your lips together as you take a second to sort through your thoughts

your nose scrunches slightly as you weigh the pros and cons of saying what you're about to say to yoongi

...

it won't kill you to ask, right?

"hey, i don't wanna, um-" you pause, "you know, i don't wanna... be that girlfriend, but... do you think that there's a slight possibility that lisa might still have feelings for you?"

a moment of silence goes by before yoongi practically barks out a laugh of disbelief

"what? lisa? no, no- that- no, don't be ridiculous." he snorts, shaking his head before turning back around to face the whiteboard, "lisa most certainly does not still have feelings for me- and, by the way, she was the one who broke things off with me, so if anything, i should be the one who still has feelings for-" he stops himself midway and presses his lips together before turning to glance at you over his shoulder, "you know, i'm hearing the words coming out of my mouth and i... am going to shut up now."

"mm, good choice." you raise a brow before shrugging, "alright, well, i just- you know, it's a possibility but if you say that lisa doesn't still have feelings for you, then i believe you-"

"alright, boys! it's chow time!"

you turn your head to see lisa waltzing into the shop carrying two large paper bags and the rest of the boys immediately rush over to her like moths to a flame

she brought bagels for lunch?

you're not trying to be biased or anything sandwiches are easier to eat, in your personal opinion

you basically have to unhinge your jaw to get a good bite of a bagel

"y/n!" lisa looks more than surprised at your presence when you and yoongi walk over the join the group, "i wasn't aware you were going to be here today- yoongi told me that you had class so i-" she pauses to set the bags down on the table, "oh my goodness, i am so sorry but i really didn't know you'd be joining us for lunch... yoongi, you could've texted me or something-"

"she just got here!" yoongi shrugs as he takes a seat at the table, "don't pin this on me-"

"ah, i probably look like such a jerk right now..." lisa winces, scratching the back of her head before reaching down to grab a bagel out of one of the paper bags, "here! you can take my bagel-"

"no, no, it's alright!" you hold your hands out before shaking them, "don't be silly, you don't have to do that- it's very nice of you to offer but i- it's alright, you go ahead and enjoy yourself!"

"oh, stop- take the bagel, y/n." lisa scoffs playfully, practically shoving the bagel into your arms before rummaging through the bags again, "i'll just share a bagel with yoongi! you don't mind, right, yoongs?"

"yeah, i had a snack earlier so i'm not, like, starving or anything-" yoongi nods, "what kind of filling is it?"

"this one is..." lisa pauses to look at the sticker on the top, "smoked salmon and dill cream cheese with capers."

"yoongi doesn't like capers." you chime in, suddenly feeling the need to prove to everyone that you know your boyfriend very well, "i remember they were sprinkled in a salad one time and he said they were too salty-"

"eh, i'll survive. i can always just pick 'em out." yoongi shrugs nonchalantly and you can't help but purse your lips in mild frustration at his response

"'atta boy! luckily, they're already sliced in half otherwise we'd have to take turns taking bites which would be weird-"

"agreed." you mutter, peeling the label off your bagel and sticking it onto the side instead

"oh, lisa! i was wondering if maybe you could help me out with some custom headlights i'm working on?" hoseok perks up, "i'm having some trouble getting the halo lights to work and i need your magic hands-"

"mhm! i can definitely check them out after lunch-" lisa grins, taking a seat next to yoongi, "anyone need a napkin?"

"yes, please!"

"i need one too-"

"pass one over here-"

you know it's silly of you to be feeling jealous over this because god knows the only thing you know about cars is that key go in and car go vroom so obviously the boys would never ask you to help them out with anything like how they're asking lisa to help out

and you're trying very hard to noT throw a self-pity party but it's getting harder and harder to not to that

(and it certainly doesn't help that there aren't any more seats left at the table)

you just can't help but feel so!!!!! inferior!!!!! compared to lisa

she's so cool and pretty and witty and obviously very knowledgable about cars

and what are you bringing to the table??

ham and cheese sandwiches??? fancy sushi rolls????

obviously not anymore because they've been replaced by these stupid bagels

this is the first time you haven't been able to throw money at a problem and you're not,.., sure.,., how you feel about it,..,

"i, uh, have to work on a paper, so i think i'm going to go and eat this in the office if anyone wants to come with?" you clear your throat quietly as you start to back away from the table slowly, "...or i can just go fuck myself, which is fine too."

you're not entirely surprised when your comment isn't acknowledged by anyone and you nod to yourself before swiftly turning on your heel and trying your best not to storm towards the office

you force your fists to uncurl and your shoulders to relax slightly but you can't help but make a face when you hear the boys laughing obnoxiously at one of lisa's jokes

of course she has to be funny as well

because the woman literally has zero flaws

you've been trying to find a reason to hate her and so far you haven't found anything negative to say

hating someone for having perfectly styled hair is a little odd

the legs of the chair screech against the floor as you pull it out and plop down

whatever

you like eating alone anyway

you unwrap the parchment paper and pick up the bagel before taking an overly aggressive bite of it, your cheeks practically bursting from how much food is currently in your mouth

you wipe your mouth with the back of your hand as you chew, tossing the bagel back onto the wrapper with a thunk!

...

damnit!

this is the best goddamn bagel you've ever had in your entire life!!

"phtupid phriggin' bavhel." you grumble, reaching up to wipe the sauce off the corner of your mouth before swallowing roughly, "even the mayo is delicious! god, what is this? some kind of garlic mayo-"

"oh my god. i think she's finally lost it." you jolt upon hearing jungkook's voice and you turn to see him and jimin standing at the door

"what's your problem?" jimin asks, the two of them walking over to join you at your sad, lonely table

"what? nothing. i don't have a problem." you shake your head stubbornly, "i just- i just wanted to be alone, that doesn't mean something's wrong-"

"is that why you're in here basically yelling at a bagel?" jungkook points out as he pulls out a chair and sits on your right

"i'm- i'm just stressed about- my paper. or whatever. it's whatever, i'm fine-"

"you can talk to us, you know." you frown when jungkook suddenly reaches over and in an uncharacteristic move, places both hands over yours

"is it about lisa?" jimin asks, crinkling his nose as he sits down as well, "it's about lisa, isn't it?"

"no, it's not-" you press your lips together before letting out a light laugh, "you know, i don't even have a reason to be upset about lisa, right? she's super cool and very nice and knows a lot about cars and is yoongi's age and namjoon blessed me with the knowledge that she, apparently, was a very passionate lover- so i have nothing to be upset about!" you snap, slapping your palm down on the table before wincing and cradling your hand to your chest, "...everything is fine."

"i have to say, i really don't think jealousy is a good look on you." jungkook clicks his tongue before glancing down at your feet, "i also don't know if those shoes are a good look on you- jeez, it's like the people at gucci are just pulling design elements out of a hat-"

"you are not making me feel any better, jungkook- these shoes are new!"

"ooh, you should make him jealous!" jungkook suddenly lights up and the fluorescent light hanging above you guys flickers for a second

"we're going to have to round back to my shoes later because i really don't think they're that bad-"

"you should make him jealous and give him a taste of his own medicine..." jungkook trails off, ignoring your previous comments once again, "it's what you deserve."

"i'm not- i'm not doing that." you chuckle uneasily, "are you serious? this isn't high school and getting him back would just be petty of me-"

"but it'd feel so nice to be petty, don't you think?" jungkook encourages, scooting a little closer to you with a devilish grin, "think about it, y/n. don't you wanna see yoongi get all hot and possessive over you-"

"i don't think it's a good idea." jimin chimes in, shaking his head quickly as he moves in closer as well, "because if yoongi finds out you orchestrated something just to get him back, that might create an issue of trust in the relationship, and that would be very, very bad-"

"oh, but it feels so good to be bad..." jungkook coos, poking your arm with his pointer finger, "so, so good..."

"uh, i don't think so! i'd like to argue that it feels bad to be bad-"

"don't listen to jimin, he's a wuss-"

"don't listen to jungkook, he's an idiot-!"

"okay, cut it out!" you snap, shoving your hands into both their chests to keep them from coming any closer, "i... must admit, i do want to do something to piss yoongi off because of how much he's pissed me off, but... i'm not like that, you know? and i don't want to come off as some crazy girlfriend because-" you pause when you notice jungkook's finger creeping closer and closer to your bagel and you immediately deflate as soon as you realize what's going on here, "oh my god. you guys only came in here because you wanted to try my bagel, didn't you?"

jungkook and jimin exchange knowing glances before looking up at you sheepishly

"yeah, that makes more sense-" you snort, rolling your eyes before pushing the bagel away from you, "have at it, you animals."

you lean back against your chair, stroking your chin in thought as the sound of jungkook and jimin bickering over who gets the bigger half of the bagel starts to fade out

to be petty or not to be petty, that is the question...

»»————- 🛠️ ————-««

(spoiler alert: the answer to the previous question is to be petty. very, very petty.) »»————- 🛠️ ————-««

"namjoon! where did you put my keys??" yoongi calls out, yanking open another drawer to rifle through its contents, "i'm supposed to pick y/n up from campus and i can't find them anywhere... i don't want her to just stand there waiting for me..."

"looking for these?"

yoongi looks up to see lisa standing by the door with his keys in her hand before she tosses them to him

"yes! you're a lifesaver, thanks-" he catches them with one hand before stepping out from behind the counter, "i thought you were leaving today? we already said goodbye to you this morning-"

"yeah, i know-" lisa chuckles as she steps into the office, "it's just that... well, i was going to just leave but i actually had something i needed to talk to you about before i left. i felt it wouldn't be fair to either one of us if i didn't say anything."

"mm. what's up?" yoongi hums, sticking his hand into the lollipop jar to pull a cherry flavoured one out

he pulls another one out before tucking it into his pocket (one for you when he picks you up!)

"well, i guess i should just go ahead and say it- just gotta rip the bandaid off-" lisa straightens her blazer before clearing her throat, "yes."

"...yes?" yoongi frowns, unwrapping his lollipop before popping it into his mouth and scrunching up the wrapper, "i'm not following. yes to what?"

"oh, don't play dumb-" lisa snorts, flicking her wrist at him, "yes, as in: i would love to rekindle our friends with benefits situationship-"

"woah, what?!" yoongi immediately chokes and he yanks the lollipop out of his mouth before patting his chest roughly, "what are you- what the hell are you talking about??"

"what do you mean what the hell am i talking about??" lisa stares at him incredulously before shaking her head, "you're the one who's been giving me secret signals all week-"

"signals-" yoongi's gawks, "what signals??"

"you know, like, how you cancelled dinner plans with her so you could be with me..." lisa croons, taking a step closer towards him

"i cancelled dinner plans with y/n so i could be with twenty cars-" yoongi inches to the side so he can make a quick getaway to run behind the counter in case lisa pounces, "which, i'm realizing doesn't make me sound like the best boyfriend but- i most certainly didn't cancel just to spend private time with you, no offence-"

"what about when we shared a bagel and you didn't complain about the capers??" lisa snaps, lunging towards yoongi only for him to quickly spin out of the way and hurry to get behind the counter

"uh, we shared a bagel because i wasn't hungry for a full bagel and i thought you weren't either, and also-" yoongi grabs namjoon's wheely chair as a makeshift barrier between him and lisa, "i'm a grown man, i'm not going to throw a fit over some friggin' capers-"

"how about when i squeezed your arm and asked you if you'd been working out and you totally flexed your arm for me??" lisa grabs the arms of the chair before yanking and aggressively rolling it behind her, yoongi's eyes widening in panic at the sudden empty space in between the two of them

"i flexed it to prove to you that i have indeed been working out-!" yoongi hops up onto the counter as soon as lisa darts towards him and he hurries to jump off so he's on the other side of it, knocking the phone and namjoon's pen holder down onto the ground in the process, "friends can ask each other if they've been hitting the gym!! i squeeze namjoon's arms all the time because his biceps are literally boulders-"

"i just feel like we have unfinished business, you know?" lisa whines, pausing for a second before bringing a hand up to bite down on the tip of her pointer finger teasingly, "plus, you have to admit that our sex was super hot-"

"are you- hello, i'm dating y/n!" yoongi gasps, "our business is finished! we have no more- we're out of business, lisa!"

"oh, c'mon." lisa raises a brow, clearly unimpressed with his reaction, "it's not going to hurt anyone to keep me as your sexy little secret- it's perfect! i only come into town, like, once or twice a year, so she won't even suspect anythi-"

"what are you- are you insane?! i'm not going to cheat on y/n-" yoongi chokes before raising his hands in defence, "lisa, you're a very beautiful woman and we do have a history, but- look, i'm sorry if i sent you mixed signals this week, that was certainly not my intention- please understand that i am very much not trying to cheat on someone who i love very much and who i'm pretty sure loves me back, so-"

"then who's that person she's so obviously flirting with right now?" lisa points over his shoulder, "also, she's barely visited you this week. what kind of girlfriend doesn't want to always be with her boyfriend??"

"first of all, space can be healthy, and second of all, she- hold on, you said flirting?" yoongi turns to look over his shoulder and out the door, tilting his head slightly when he sees you standing at the front of the garage laughing with... someone he certainly doesn't recognize...

"you can leave all of this behind and come and work for me, yoongi-" yoongi jumps when he suddenly feels hands grasping at the collar of his jumpsuit and he turns back to see lisa standing right in front of him (how did she move so quickly and quietly?!), "we can be happy together, i swear-"

"yeah, cool, just give me a second-" yoongi gently yanks lisa's hands off of him before hurrying out of the office and making a beeline right for you and this mysterious stranger

"oop- okay, he's coming this way-" baekhyun mutters, glancing over your shoulder before looking back at you, "it's show time. you ready?" he hums, reaching over to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear

"what do you think? do we look convincing?" you reach down to unbutton another button on your blouse before adjusting the collar

it's taking everything within you noT to whip around to see if yoongi's just walking towards you or if he's storming towards you... because there's definitely a difference and you definitely want it to be the latter

the plan you came up with had a pretty simple formula: one handsome stranger + one flirty, oblivious y/n = one jealous yoongi

jungkook had a point about how nice it'd be to get yoongi all riled up and possessive and frankly you think you deserve it considering how dismissive he's been with you all week... which is why you were more than happy to recruit your very handsome friend baekhyun (he's very sweet / you met last semester in one of your history courses / he was more than willing to help out with your plan because he's a theatre major and this is good practice for him) to help you out with your plan!

"you're laughing like a robot." baekhyun lowers his voice, "i told you to act natural-"

"i'm being natural! ha, ha! ha! ha-ha. you're so funny, baek-" you giggle obnoxiously, reaching over to slap his chest gently, "you are absolutely the funniest person i've ever met-"

"y/n!" yoongi clears his throat loudly and you bite back a grin at the hint of annoyance you can detect in his voice, "i... thought i was picking you up from class today? i wasn't aware you hired a chauffeur!"

"oh, yoongi!" you spin around, feigning surprise as if you totally weren't expecting to see him at all, "oh, this is actually my friend- i know you've been busy so he offered to give me a ride!" you hum, stepping aside to let baekhyun step up onto the sidewalk, "baekhyun, this is yoongi-" you gesture to yoongi, "yoongi, this is baekhyun! ...my boyfriend."

you're hoping your accidental on-purpose flub-up triggers yoongi's memory of how he accidentally introduced lisa to you as his girlfriend and you're delighted to see the way yoongi's jaw drops slightly, "oh, my bad! i'm sorry, i don't know how that happened- what i meant to say was baekhyun, this is yoongi, my boyfriend. there we go."

"baekhyun..." yoongi repeats, his eyes narrowing slightly when baekhyun suddenly wraps an arm around your shoulder and gives you a squeeze "well, that's very nice of you to drive y/n all the way here. thanks for doing that, man."

"oh, it's no problem at all!" baekhyun hums, reaching over to pinch your cheek, "y/n's the sweetest and i didn't want to abandon her on campus-"

"okay, she wasn't abandoned, i was literally about to leave to pick her up-" yoongi points out, lifting his keys with a jingle before abruptly shoving them into his back pocket, "you know, y/n's never mentioned a baekhyun before. you two seem... close!"

"oh, baek and i go way back." you snort, digging your elbow into his side with a grin, "isn't that right, baek?"

baek

yoongi pokes his tongue against the inside of his cheek at the fact that baekhyun still has his arm wrapped around your shoulder and you haven't made a move to shoVE it off

how can you not see that his intentions with you aren't just chummy??

he wouldn't have driven you all the way here if he didn't want to get his grubby hands under your skirt-

"we most certainly do! we made some great memories in that lecture hall- i have to say, i was, uh, pretty disappointed when i found out she was already in a relationship..." baekhyun sighs dramatically, shaking his head before looking back at you, "i would treat you right and never cancel dinner plans with you-"

"okay, i think it's time for you to go, bacon-" yoongi forces a smile on his face before reaching over to gently pull you towards him, "thank you for dropping my girlfriend off. have a good one."

"oh, no problem!" baekhyun points towards you, "hey, lemme know if you need a ride to campus on monday because i'd be happy to swing by your apartment and-"

"no, i can take her!" yoongi manoeuvres you so that you're standing behind him and basically blocked from baekhyun's sight, "i've got it from here, thanks."

"bye, baek!" you wave at baekhyun as gets into his car and he salutes at you before his right eye drops in a cheeky wink and it's at that point that yoongi really thinks he's about to lose it

what the hell was that?!

he spins around to face you as soon as baekhyun zooms off and you keep yourself from asking him why his ears have suddenly turned super red

"why are you wearing lowbuttons to class?" yoongi crosses his arms over his chest, "i thought you said you were going to use them as, like, apartment decoration."

"louboutins, yoongi." you correct, looking down at your slick stilettos, "and why can't i wear louboutins to class?"

"you wore them out to dinner one time and i ended up having to carry you back to the car because your feet were aching-" yoongi reminds you with a pointed tone, "are you telling me that you walked up and down and all around campus in those things?"

"maybe i did." you shrug, turning to stick your nose up in the air a little, "i can wear stilettos to class if i so please."

"and the miniskirt?"

"what, you don't like it?" you pout, reaching down to pick a piece of fluff off the surface, "it's new!"

it's a plain black skirt but it has a little slit on the side and you purposely bought this specific piece knowing that yoongi has expressed how much he likes you in black

"of course i like it, and obviously i'm a big fan of the heels but-" yoongi huffs, "all i'm saying is that it's a little odd- the timing is weird for your miniskirts and heels to make a sudden comeback now that you're all buddy-buddy with this backyawn-"

"it's baekhyun-"

"that's what i said!"

"you know, i don't know what you're implying here but i haven't done anything wrong-" you shrug, "are you feeling okay? maybe you need to take a nap-"

"stop being stubborn, y/n. just tell me what's going on!"

"nothing's going on!" you insist, raising your hands in defense before flicking a strand of hair over your shoulder, "everything is perfectly fine and nothing is-"

"are you leaving me for baekhyun?" yoongi interrupts, his eyes suddenly softening, "because if this is how you're telling me we're over, it's a pretty shitty-"

"what- what?? no!" you shake your head quickly, "no, of course i'm not- why would you even- okay, fine! fine, i-" you let out a breath and your shoulders drop a little, "it's just that... i don't know, it kind of feels like i've been fighting to get your attention for the whole week and i... i feel like i shouldn't have to do that as your girlfriend, you know? and i'm not... i guess i just felt like i wasn't stacking up to lisa and how cool and smart she is and- this whole week it's just felt like you're in a relationship with lisa and not me, so i... wanted to make you jealous to see if you still cared. or whatever."

"are you serious?" yoongi's eyes flutter shut and he reaches up to pinch the bridge of his nose in frustration, "fuck, i'm sorry, ah- i'm sorry, y/n, i really am-" his brows knit together in remorse as he looks at you, "i think i just got swept up in all the new clients she was bringing in so i was focusing more on that than on noticing what was going on with you... i'm sorry. why didn't you just come and talk to me about it?"

"i didn't know how." you mutter, reaching up to scratch the side of your head, "i've never had to deal with something like this before, so... i know it was silly of me to come up with this whole thing-"

"you are my girlfriend, y/n." yoongi reminds you, his voice softening, "not lisa. it's you." he reaches over to hook a finger under your chin so he can get you to look at him, "i promise i only have eyes for you, pretty girl. you still love me?"

"god, yoongi-" you feel your cheeks flush at the nickname and you roll your eyes playfully before turning your head, "yeah. duh."

"oh, you silly thing..." he tuts, pulling you in for a hug and propping his chin up on the top of your head, "i'm sorry, baby. i really didn't mean to make you feel like that..." he pulls away and reaches down to glide his finger down the bridge of your nose before poking the tip, "i hope you can forgive me for being a shitty boyfriend."

"i'll forgive you if you forgive me for pretending to flirt with someone else." you smile sheepishly, yoongi grinning before nodding in agreement

"deal." he wraps an arm around your shoulder as the two of you head back towards the direction of the office, "so you really went through all that trouble just to make me a little jealous?" yoongi grins, "just for a little bit of attention? as if i'm not already all over you when we're alone-"

"well, it worked, didn't it?" you take your bottom lip in between your teeth as you squish your cheek against yoongi's shoulder and look up at him, "my acting skills are not half bad, if i do say so myself-"

"oh, shit, uh-" yoongi suddenly stops in his tracks when he sees lisa step out of the office and he spins around so that his back is facing her, "not to make you worry, but you should probably know that lisa's somehow convinced that i've been secretly flirting with her all week because i want to become friends with benefits again and she almost, like, body-slammed me in the office- also, if namjoon asks, tell him a raccoon snuck in and that's why his desk is a mess and his pens are all over the floor-"

"wait, what?!" your brows knit together and you're about to lean over to look at lisa but yoongi quickly reaches out and grabs onto your shoulders to keep you in place

"-yeah, so i'm going to lay you down on the hood of that car now because doing something extreme is probably the only thing that'll prove to her that she's wrong and i am very desperate to show her that she's wrong-"

"lay me down on the- and do what?! yoongi-!" you don't get much of a chance to say anything else before yoongi's suddenly bending down to pick you up off the ground in one swift movement, his fingers digging underneath your thighs as he lays you down on the hood of the nearest car, "yoongi-! you can't just-"

"shush!" yoongi hisses, pressing his lips against yours to shut you up promptly

"mmvph-"

it doesn't take you very long to melt into the kiss once you realize you haven't kissed yoongi like this in like a week and a half and you can't help but smile at the familiar faint taste of cherry you're getting from him

yoongi's warm hand slides down from your waist so he can hitch your left leg up against his hip, one of your heels slipping from your foot and clattering onto the floor

your senses are so clouded with yoongi cherry yoongi cherry that you nearly forget the two of you aren't alone (and also, all of this is definitely being recorded on the security cameras right now)

"hey, so- i- i'm gonna get going-" lisa announces loudly as she stands at a good distance away from the two of you, her eyes looking up towards the ceiling so that she doesn't have to watch the way yoongi's kissing down your neck, "i have to check out of my hotel, so-"

"yeah, sounds good!" yoongi pulls away for a second and shoots a quick thumbs up over his shoulder, "see you later, pal!"

"bye, lisa!" you chime in, giving her a wave even though she isn't looking at you and is really trying to double-time it to her car, "it was so nice meeting you!"

the two of you watch silently as lisa practically leaps into her mustang, the sound of the engine revving before she quickly speeds off like she just remembered she left the oven on at home

you turn your head to look up at yoongi before scoffing lightly, hooking a finger against his chain to pull him back down towards you, "you're ridiculous, you know that?"

"yeah, i know-" yoongi's nose crinkles before he offers you a boyish smirk and a half-hearted shrug, "you love it, though."

🎙️help me help you make your wishes come true (send me a request!) ✨why don’t you explore the rest of the library while you’re here? (full fics!) 💫or perhaps you want something shorter to read? (drabbles like this one!) 🌟or something even shorter? (teeny tidbits!)

2K notes · View notes

inkykeiji · 3 years

Text

you’re like a drug to me, a luxury, my sugar and gold

character: gojou satoru

genre: smut with a sprinkle of fluff at the end

notes: aaaaah first jjk fic ever!!!! uhhh this is honestly just pure smut and punishment, satoru is a Bad Daddy, and it’s set in a curseless AU | title cred: handclap by fitz and the tantrums

warnings: 18+ minors dni, dubcon/noncon, slight size difference/size kink, belly bulge, spanking with a belt, rough sex, minimal prep, minimal aftercare (at first), toxic and unhealthy relationship (satoru is mean n a bad daddy!), daddy kink/slightly implied ddlg dynamics, praise kink, dacryphilia

words: 3.1k

synopsis:

And although you can—and do—get away with a lot, you can’t get away with everything. A little brattiness he can handle, a little brattiness he thinks is cute. But on the days when you’re really misbehaving, purposefully (or not) breaking every rule, acting out and refusing to listen, rejecting any bargain or compromise with him at all—well, he’s only human.

And he snaps.

Gojou Satoru is a bad Daddy.

He’s a sweet Daddy, a silly Daddy, a Daddy who’s almost incapable of saying no. He’s a Daddy with a massive sweet tooth, a Daddy who frequently allows both of you to have dessert before dinner—sometimes dessert for dinner—and a Daddy who gives his princess nearly everything she desires, weak to your pretty pout and puppy-dog eyes and please, Daddy?’s. He hates to deny you, aches at the thought of you being even just a teensy bit displeased, because he wants his baby happy, always.

It’s his fault, really, you’re saying, insisting, when he calls you a spoiled brat. Because, honestly, it is; Satoru is entitled—he always has been, born with a not silver, not gold, but platinum spoon in his mouth—and his little princess is entitled, too.

Because he gives you anything and everything you ask for the moment the demand leaves your mouth, dotes on you hand and foot, absolutely adores you, lavishing you in the finest silks and prettiest lace, always indulging you just as much as he indulges himself—as much as he has always been indulged, growing up filthy rich.

Because you weren’t always like this; or, at least, you weren’t always this brash about it.

But years of getting exactly what you want, exactly when you want it, has forced your attitude to change, to shift.

You haven’t changed, Satoru tells you one day, a tub full of melty ice cream in his lap as he shovels another spoonful into your mouth, waning sun bathing the penthouse terrace in translucent gold and coral, brilliant colours reflected in his crystal eyes. “I didn’t do anything—I simply revealed your true nature,” A devious little smirk spreads across his lips, eyes glinting in an almost ominous nature, and you shiver. “You’ve always been a selfish materialistic brat, haven’t you?”

Well, you guess he has a point.

And he snaps.

It’s always something little, after a day full of disobedience, that does it, that finally lights the fuse and forces an explosion. Something that would normally be inconsequential, something he’d usually laugh off with a coo and a loving pat to your head.

Because you fought him on bedtime last night, then fought him on going to university this morning. You demanded pancakes for breakfast and when he denied them to you, because he’s got an important meeting in the afternoon and thus hasn’t the time to make them, you refused to eat anything at all—only to whine and bitch and complain about how starved you were for the entire duration of his conference. And yet, throughout it all, he was the perfect picture of patience, endlessly cool and nonchalant in his responses to your multiple tantrums.

Until you rushed into the kitchen in a famished frenzy, diving straight for the cookie jar and shoving three in your mouth.

“Sweets are not an appropriate dinner, baby,”

The words are sighed out in pure exasperation, his thumb and his forefinger pinching the bridge of his nose, lids shut tightly.

Eyebrows furrowing, you tilt your head in confusion, speaking around your mouthful. “Since when?”

His eyes snap open, blazing azure glaring at you with such an intensity it makes you flinch, cookie crumbs turning to ash in your mouth.

“Since forever,” he seethes, mask of impassivity finally beginning to break.

“What?” you laugh around the word, but it trembles. “What are you talking about? You rarely enforce that rule—especially since you don’t even follow it yourself!”

“It doesn’t matter,” he snaps, nostrils flaring with a particularly harsh exhale. “I am the boss, and what I say goes,”

“Daddy!” A sock-clad foot stomps against the marble floor as you whine out the word, arms crossing tightly over your chest. “That isn’t fair! You can’t just—”

“Enough with this attitude!” he snarls, moving like a crack of lighting as he lunges at you, lithe arms embracing you in an iron grip. “I can, and I will,”

And then he’s hauling you over his shoulder, one strong arm wrapped around you and pinning you draped over his body, delivering swift, harsh slaps to your ass every time you kick your feet or beat your fists against his back, while every whine and complaint earns you another spank in his mind, mentally tallying them up and vocalizing the thought a moment later.

“You’re being a meanie,”

“That’s twelve,” he growls.

“I don’t care!”

“Thirteen.”

“So what?”

“Fourteen.”

“That’s nothing,”

“Twenty-five.”

And that—that gets you to pause, but not to halt, not to stop, potent brattiness mixing with fury as it boils in your chest, the need to defy, to disobey, burning through your veins.

“I-I can handle that,”

“Thirty,” his voice is calm—serene, almost—and ice cold. There’s an underlying challenge sown into it, daring you to try him again, to utter another word. He’ll go higher, you can almost hear his apathetic voice floating through your mind; he’ll go as high as he needs to in order to teach such an ungrateful little brat a lesson.

Thirty it is.

The buckle of his favourite belt jingles as he undoes it, that dainty clink! forcing shivers to pebble across your naked skin, pressing your chest further into the foot of his bed, fingers curling in cashmere.

You’ve developed a love-hate relationship with that belt; it’s so fun when you get to undo it yourself, gentle fingers tugging and toying as you squirm eagerly in his lap, yet the clank and clattering of that heavy buckle as nimble fingers skillfully unfasten it and pull it from the loops of expensive trousers is almost menacing, carrying with it portentous threats it fully intends to see through.

He never warns you when the first strike is coming, reveling in the way your muscles are coiled in tension, in foreboding anticipation; basking in the surprised yelp that bubbles up in your throat.

“Relax,” he tells you with a callous chuckle, leather squealing between large, smooth hands as he folds it. “And count,”

It’s his usual response, predictable and scripted by this point, but he never seems to tire of it, notes of delight lacing his voice.

And that first blow never counts.

Gojou Satoru may be a bad Daddy by most standards, but his punishments are harsh, brutal, and cruel, and they happen to be one of the only things he takes seriously in life.

There’s rules to each of his punishments—so many rules he’s made you write them out multiple times, until your hand ached and fingers cramped and the heel of your palm was swollen, so they’d stick in that pretty empty little head of yours, so you never forget—and his spankings are no different.

You are not to move until he tells you to. You are not to speak unless spoken to. You are to count each lash, loud and clear before the next strike lands. Each mistake, each misstep and slip-up and refusal to comply, will earn you one extra slap. The tool is to be decided based on the severity of the offence.

The belt, all rigid rawhide and sharp edges, cuts into the supple flesh of your ass with each easy, nonchalant flick of his wrist, abrasively snapping against you.

Each collision of leather against flesh sears a tingly sting into your skin, biting rapidly rising welts into your ass and sending spiky jolts of agonizing pain bolting up your spine, the pain fading to a dull throb for just a moment before another blow is delivered.

“Gorgeous,” Satoru murmurs to himself halfway through your punishment, the word nothing more than a little huff of breath. You don’t dare respond, simply crying out the next number as he lands another harsh blow to your abused skin. He doesn’t think he’s ever heard a more beautiful sound, he continues, voice appearing faint and far away, mingling with the combined symphony of the crack of leather and pathetic whimpers muffled by sheets.

“It’s incredible,” he says, louder this time, voice dripping with wonderment, as if he can’t believe he’s created such a magnificent piece—the streaks of blood staining once perfect, unblemished skin; the high-pitched whines and sharp cries of each subsequent number; the resounding slap of the belt against your bare ass that evokes it all.

The whole thing sends a surge of intense power rushing through his veins, the tingling buzz it leaves behind enthralling and invigorating. You don’t need to look at him to know this, don’t need to see the way his eyes shine with it, the way his chest heaves with it, the way his entire body trembles with it—you can feel it in the atmosphere surrounding you, can feel the shift as his ego saturates the air, as his pure superiority bleeds into it, dense and suffocating, stimulating and revitalizing.

It infects your body, seeping in through your skin and flooding your veins, re-instills the need to be submissive, the ache to be good, providing you with the strength to endure.

The punishment lasts for forty-five excruciating minutes, accumulating a total of thirty three spanks—the extra three tacked onto your original punishment of thirty, one for each time you broke a rule. He’s on you in less than a second the moment it’s over, belt dropping to the rug-covered floor with a distinct thump as soft, eager palms roam your sweaty body, lips crushed against yours, still trembling as they spill pitiful whimpers into his mouth.

The luxurious bedroom—all cream and gold and drenched in sunlight—is blanketed by backhanded praises, warning you not to be a brat and just take what he gives. He’s sadistic when he gets in moods such as these, a feral glint in crystal eyes as large hands hastily flip you over—so fast it knocks a gasp of his name from your chest—seemingly unconcerned about the fresh blood oozing from the thin swollen welts that embellish your ass staining his thousand dollar sheets.

“Daddy needs you now,” he growls when you try to protest, breathing erratic as fingers flex on your hips, squeezing and kneading before pressing down hard, a silent order to stay fucking put. “And you’re going to be a good little girl for your Daddy now, aren’t you?”

Of course. Of course, because you are a good little girl, his good little girl.

But he’s a bad Daddy.

And, like a bad Daddy, he defers aftercare—it can wait, he practically snarls as he drags you to the edge of the bed, folding your legs up on either side of your body, knees nearly nudging your jaw; and foregoes prep almost entirely—two slender fingers slipping between your slick folds, prodding your hole and deeming you wet enough to take him.

And you’d be lying if you said you didn’t absolutely love it when he gets like this, when that façade of indifference finally shatters to pieces, replaced with desperation, with urgency, with neediness.

Your head lifts from the plush mattress, neck straining a little as you watch him push his trousers down his thighs through bleary eyes, residual dewdrops of tears clinging to spidery lashes. His cock bobs a little as he kicks the pants off, and it’s just as pretty as he is, smooth and symmetrical and perfect in every way.

“This would be part of your punishment,” he pants out, speaking over your cry of discomfort as he begins to shove his cock into you, little cunt aching as it attempts to accommodate the sudden intrusion. “If you didn’t love it so much, fucking slut,”

“Daddy!” The pet name claws its way up your throat in a yelp, hands scrabbling against his shoulders, nails digging into his flesh through his Armani button-up in an effort to steady yourself, eyes squeezing shut against the severe burn that accompanies the stretch. “Gonna—Gonna tear me in half,”

“You’d think you’d be used to this by now,” Satoru muses, voice already returning to its apathetic playful lilt now that he’s half buried in your cunt, breathing already calmed. A malicious little smirk decorates his lips and he observes you as if awestruck, one of his hands moving to trace the curve of your cheek, cold fingertips soft against your scalding skin.

“So beautiful like this,” he whispers as he finally bottoms out, hips pressed flush against the back of your thighs.

And you are, fresh tears that glitter the way his eyes do in the waning sun streaming down your cheeks, leaving the prettiest streaks of salt staining your flesh; lips swollen from merciless teeth sinking into them, an attempt to silence yourself, to keep those whines and complaints of Stop, Daddy! and Hurts, Daddy! safely stored in your throat.

Your little hole flutters around him, still struggling to adjust to his girth, and his head droops forward, long tongue unfurling from his mouth to lap at the bitter water adorning your face, slow languid strokes from your jaw to your bottom lashes, replacing shimmering tears with viscous saliva.

Saccharine sugar stings your nose, sticky toffee bathed in decadent chocolate and garnished with a touch of vanilla enveloping you in a sickly sweet embrace.

Such a scent—his scent—starkly opposes the vicious snapping of his hips, setting a merciless pace from the very start, blunt nails biting deep half-crescents into your flesh as they hold you in place.

But the pain only heightens the pleasure, contradicting sensations clashing together with every one of his brutal thrusts, cashmere feeling as rough as sandpaper against your raw, wounded ass. Thorns of pain pierce through your abdomen and shoot up your spine, back arching off the bed, and the muscles in your thighs flex and clench with every slam of his cockhead against your cervix.

It’s potent and intoxicating, a heady exhilaration clouding your brain and flooding your veins, and soon there are tears leaking from your eyes again, dribbling into your mouth and mixing with strings of drool that coat the words you’re babbling out.

Blood rushes in your ears, procuring a deafening ring, and you’re not even sure what you’re saying anymore, voice vibrating indistinctly in your chest as saliva soaked mewls ooze from your mouth. Your Daddy’s staring down at you, condescension etched into his pretty features, eyes morphing from dainty crystal to the navy of a tumultuous sea, framed by strands of cream and ivory dripping with sweat.

And he’s so big, too big, stuffing you full to the hilt with each ruthless piston of his hips, mattress trembling beneath you from the sheer strength; and it’s so much, too much, you swear you can feel him in your tummy, can see the way your lower abdomen cutely bulges in synchronization with every pounding thrust.

You must say it in some way, in some shape or some form, because the patronization varnishing his features melts away, sharp smirk dissolving into a genuine grin, blue eyes lightening with pure adoration.

“Such a good girl,” you think he’s saying, through it’s hard to tell when your eyelids keep drooping, hard to hear when a symphony of broken moans and hitched whimpers and the sharp slapping of skin against skin blanket the room, reverberating off the walls of your skull. “You’re such a good, good girl for me,”

Yes, Daddy, you want to say, such a good girl for you, only for you.

“Y-Yours,” you manage instead, locking your arms around his neck and clinging to him.

“Mine,” he growls, possessiveness lacquering his eyes, brilliant and bright and shining with devotion. “That’s right, mine,”

It only takes another three thrusts before you’re gushing all over his cock, the intense spasming of your cute little cunt drawing the prettiest whines from the back of his throat as he rams into you.

“Beg for it,” he demands, and although it’s an order, it comes out more like a plead, desperation sown into his voice. “Beg for Daddy’s cum,”

You obey immediately, words spilling from your lips without a second thought, automatic and instinctual. Please, Daddy, gimme your cum? Please, please, pretty please, want your cum, Daddy, fill my belly with it, Daddy, I need it, need it so bad, please?

He gives you what you want only a moment later, cock throbbing almost violently as he fills you with thick, scalding cream—so much that you’re sure it’s dribbling out of you, trickling down your ass and onto his pristine sheets—and you roll your hips up, attempting to milk him for more.

“G-Greedy,” he pants out, but there’s a dazzling smile slapped across his face, and so much love in his eyes it’s nearly overwhelming, a fresh wave of tears casting a gleaming shield across your own.

He notices immediately, both of you wincing a little as he pulls out, a wrecked little whine escaping your mouth.

“My poor little princess,” he’s saying as he untangles his briefs—Balenciaga, this time—from his trousers, abandoned in a heap on the hardwood.

“Daddy,” you rasp, a frown marring his face, fingers encircling your ankles as he helps you unfold your stiff legs.

“I know, I know,” he’s murmuring as gentle hands pull the soft clothing up your silky thighs. “It hurts, I know baby, Daddy’s gonna make it feel better now,”

A shiver courses through your body, and he tuts, nimble fingers making quick work of the buttons on his shirt, shrugging it off before he hoists you up and drapes it over your shoulders, tenderly threading your arms through the sleeves.

It’s cozy, and warm, infused with his scent—melted sugar and expensive cologne—and you snuggle into it, weak arms pulling the material tighter around your body, swathing it in comfort. Tears prick your eyes again, blearily blinking them clear as you glance up to find him backing away. A noise of indignance sounds in the back of your throat, eyebrows knitting together as you make grabby hands for him.

“I’ll be right back, princess,” he reassures you as he laces your fingers together and allows you to pull him back towards you, voice soothing like a lullaby. Fingers trail along the curve of your cheek then trace the line of your jaw, palms smoothing hair back from your face. “Daddy’s just going to go get the first aid kit so he can clean you up, okay?”

“‘N then food?”

He coos with a little chuckle, cupping your head as he tilts it up towards him, eyes overflowing with fondness.

“Yeah, baby, and then food. Whatever you want, it’s yours,”

Gojou Satoru may be a bad Daddy, but he is also your Daddy, and that makes him the best Daddy.

#gojo satoru x reader #gojou satoru x reader #gojo satoru smut #jjk smut #OKAY I'M GOING TO BEEEED NOW #IT'S LIKE FOUR THIRTY IN THE MORNING #tw daddy kink #tw noncon

1K notes · View notes