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worstloki · 3 years

Note

Do y’all Loki apologists hate Thor or something and if so like why? Odin gaslit him too... Odin gaslit and girlbossed all of the nine realms lmao

Odin may have erased Hela and glorified/painted their past as more justified and peaceful than it was on Asgard but we're not shown him doing this to the other realms. for all we know he simply abandoned places like midgard because muspelheim and jotunheim still know Odin and hold grudges.

How to explain that specifically taking and raising Loki, Jotun, in a place that is explicitly xenophobic towards Jotuns would specifically be a specific thing pertaining to Loki which is a huge central thing shown in Thor 1 without calling you an idiot. Because it's not Thor's reaction to the lies that is important in Thor 3 even at the "end" of his "arc" in that film where he "realizes" the "truth" of their "history". But in Thor 1 Loki's is. It's a huge deal because it is literally King Laufey of Jotunheim, Loki's apparent biological father, that is the co-antagonist of the film and it is finding out he was not just adopted and lied to but was taken a political pawn and lost this use after finding out this fact, that drives the plot forward.

Thor is not shown finding out this truth. The other realms are not shown finding out any supposed truth about any supposed made-up history (I really doubt Odin cared to spread propaganda past Vanaheim tbh, but whatever).

Thor is not given false hope or misconceptions in gaining Asgard's throne because it is to be given to him. Thor has the support of loyal friends who will commit treason and die to save him. Thor, though also abused, was on the other end of things, where we're shown he is adored and given attention and is confident in his reckless decisions. Thor at the start of Thor 1 is loud and arrogant and brash and admittedly immature but part of that involves speaking over his brother in a way that wouldn't be short of abusive itself if it was long-standing, while Loki isn't shown arguing back or defending himself but shutting down and literally sinking into shadows until the vault scene where he finds out the truth of where he came from.

And Loki, admittedly, has a better grasp of how Asgard works. He finds out he's Jotun, that confirms he was taken at the end of the war, just like the Casket was. He asks why he was taken and upon being told he was an innocent child immediately knows that is not it. Knee-deep in Jotun blood, 'peaceful relations' are hardly that even now. He finds out he was adopted, he asks what purpose it was for. And he's right in saying there is one. He's constantly right about worst-case scenarios. (Compare that to Thor who is being dragged the opposite direction into calling Odin a wise king and superspendicular father. Because they were both abused, but Loki is the one who now must see himself as the monster that parents tell their children about at night.

"It all makes sense now. Why you favored Thor all these years."

And sure, don't take his word on this, it's his POV of things, of course it's skewed. Except he has yet to be wrong. Except Thor is the one shown with a weapon from the vault. Except Thor is the one who was chosen to be King. Except we see how Loki is treated and we see how he reacts.

Regardless, Loki feels, knows, that he was not treated equally to Thor, and if he was given the same opportunities he does not feel he was favoured the same way.

"Because no matter how much you claim to love me, you could never have a Frost Giant sitting on the Throne of Asgard!"

Whether or not objective (again, it's Loki's POV, it's how he sees things, and Loki is GOOD at seeing things) the line expresses his opinion on the entire matter. I don't call it apologism to say that he was hurt and reacted. Since that's. Literally what happened. It's not an excuse to say he was mistreated and went mentally off the rails in trying to prove himself worthy or whatever else bc he was abused, but it's a compelling reason that makes sense imo that he would attribute this to w h y he was never worthy and then went through so much villainous effort to prove he still could be useful.

Thor does not understand what Loki speaks of when they argue on 'imagined slights' because he somehow missed that Loki was being mistreated. Genuine mistake, perhaps, but it left Loki in a position where he was getting treated as dirt whereas Thor was put on a pedestal. Both not great situations, and you can't compare abuse, but Loki was additionally shown having to deal with fallout of leaving the situation while Thor 2 was the last time Thor seriously got to reconsider his relation with Odin as a being other than perfect. That conflict and Thor leaving adds a neat layer of depth to Thor's character in my opinion, not unlike what Loki gained at the end of Thor 1.

I can't speak for everyone, and certainly not for apologists since I don't consider myself one, but I don't hate Thor. Loki's suffering is just. not his fault. I don't blame either of them for what position the other was in. But Loki's problems are, on top of everything, things he was born with. Things he can't change and shouldn't have to but still sees as bad.

Also, Thor's redemption arc is great on it's own but not, in my opinion, as fleshed out as Loki's downfall in the same movie. it's not something specific to his identity that he's overcoming because those we're shown on Asgard are also arrogant! they're also into fighting and violence and acting superior! that's standardized Asgardian values for you babey! it's behavioural and stuff Thor can and does attempt to move on from! and then Loki comes along and he's trying to live up to these expectations that he wasn't ever going to be able to live up to because of who he was because whether or not Asgardian-ness is considered Valid In A Given Situation is dependent on Odin! The system of Righteous Judgement is flawed! It's why I blame Odin and Frigga for everything rather than either Thor or Loki, even though I see Thor and Loki as also having an abusive dynamic going for them!

To me Thor as 'the hero who gains humility' is in huge part unique because it occurs at the perfect time for Loki to be fallout damage. (And vice versa with Loki's arc!). Because Thor and Loki act as foils (is that the word?) in Thor 1 and take each other's positions by the end of the film, because Thor learns something was wrong about himself before, he knows something is wrong with his brother right now, even if the entire morality-of-killing discussion has no real part in their discussion.

Thor's own arc through Thor 1-3 means he's genuinely trying to be better, he's just. still working on it. And struggling to acknowledge the past is bad for reasons is difficult bc they were indoctrinated and unlearning stuff is hard. But it CAN be interpreted that way and I love to do so, because Thor being smart but not being self aware until he stops and contemplates things properly is >>> and v/ heroic imo.

Odin gaslights and girlbosses everyone but he does so to Loki far more specifically and about Loki's own identity. Thor gets gatekept about how he's not the firstborn child AND how his brother is adopted and Jotun, Loki gets being the third child PLUS that he's a different species specifically one Asgard doesn't like PLUS a son of Laufey who is literally an enemy king PLUS that he was originally taken as a political token PLUS that being raised as a prince of Asgard with a right to the throne was a lie PLUS even though they raised him they see what he really is as a negative thing and probably intended never to tell him because of it. Loki's downfall is basically showcased lmao.

They were both abused but not in the same way, they were both lied to but I don't consider it equivalent, they're different characters in and of themselves, psychology is up to interpretation, etc.

So whether or not someone dislikes Thor is literally people's choice but I don't particularly hate him, no, though I feel you were being rude in the way you've asked.

I do hate the MCU though so jot that down. So much wasted potential smh.

tldr: yeah odin girlbossed the nine realms. loki was in those nine realms. odin also personally girlbossed loki on top of that. sure thor would get caught in that too since he's closest to loki BU T that's not a central part of his narrative in any film now is it. no, it just serves a temporary 'oh no! ...anyways, moving on so we can fix this' role while Loki's lies stick around.

#odin: loki is jotun actually #Loki: *sobbing*#odin: malekith is alive and so is the aether actually #Thor AND EVERYONE ELSE: *sobbing*#odin: hela is the oldest child actually #thor AND EVERYONE ELSE: *sobbing*#thor always has people on his side #he ALWAYS has support #EVEN WHEN HE LANDS ON EARTH WITH NOTHING BUT HIS NAME THE FIRST PEOPLE HE MEETS HELP HIM AND BECOME FRIENDS #when LOKI deals with problems it's alone #doesn't matter how pure hearted or delightful his intentions are he does things on his own #trusting people literally gets him nowhere lmao #when LOKI lands somewhere new WITH NOTHING BUT HIS NAME the (presumably) FIRST PEOPLE HE MEETS ARE THE OTHER/THANOS #YOU KNOW #THAT Other and Thanos #the ones that torture and threaten and the one that is the Big Bad of 3 phases that personally chokes him to death #YOU KNOW???#wild #anyway #i don't hate thor #i just wish he hadn't been done so dirty later in the MCU #thor 1-thor 2 thor my beloved #etc.#because he's a jerk earlier but like. i dont hate him for it. he's literally a character??? the dismissive words add to who he was #this is wild #you know.

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animatedrapture · 3 years

Text

"VORFREUDE."

Summary: Sakusa thinks of you as his vorfreude, his intense anticipation from imagining future pleasures. He swears it's not mere delusions.

Pairing: Sakusa Kiyoomi x F!Reader / slight Komori Motoya x Reader

Word count: 4.5k

Genre & Content Warnings: Slight angst. NSFW. Dark content. Yandere behavior. Porn with Plot. Incel/Bully!Sakusa. Virgin!Reader. Abuse. Non-con. Blackmail. Coercion. Misogyny. Slut-shaming. Slight manipulation and mindbreak. Fingering. Corruption. Defloration. Degradation. Vaginal penetration. Creampie.

Notes: Thank you soooo much to the lovely anon who commissioned this! Took a lot longer than it should've cause academics kept cutting in & joint with my anxiety. But yeah, thank you so much :') Thank you Faiwy for the final beta !! <3

If you're thinking about commissioning me, please refer to this post.

You’re a constant, Sakusa thinks.

For as long as he can remember, you’ve been following him and Komori like a lost puppy—whenever they were, you were sure to be there. He can’t think far back enough to remember when it started, but you were insignia of constancy, that was all Sakusa knew.

He listens intently while you talk to Komori from beside him, voice low and stumbling over your words every so often—he knows you're going out of your way to avoid saying something he could use to pull you apart with, piece by piece like a frail little toy.

"How did the test from yesterday go?" Komori questions you, right as your trio made it to the cafeteria.

Your easy-going smile falters at the mention of it. Sakusa already knows the answer. He shares that class with you, after all. He had the front row seat to see your face flushed with humiliation and how rigid your body grew when the professor told you Sakusa would be tutoring you.

Reminding him that out of everything about you, the way you wore your heart on your sleeve is something that insistently rubbed him the wrong way.

First, because he starts thinking about how easy you make it for people to take advantage of you; it makes his blood boil. Then, he starts thinking about every reaction he could get out of you, like how you'd look from beneath him as he used your body the way you wanted him to.

Because you do, don't you? Why else would you go out of your way to adjust to his habits? To carry around your personal sanitizer and wipes, always making sure the space you were in with them was clean.

Nothing else could explain how you strung along with them like loose thread.

It tugs at the heart beneath his ribcage—but whenever he sees you give all your attention to Komori, the betrayal sinks in, and he's reminded what kind of a woman you are.

A whore.

As you laughed nervously, taking a seat across from them, Sakusa wonders if you're having fun, wonders if for a moment you're riddled with guilt as you flirt with his cousin and him at the same time, in the same breath.

"N-no, it didn't turn out very well," you admit in between stutters, embarrassment creeping back in.

Komori frowns empathetically, "I could help you, you know—"

The sparkle in your eyes is quick to appear. God, you're so cunning. It makes Sakusa consider that maybe you failed the test on purpose, thinking this would happen—but that would be giving you more credit than due. You're just a dumb little girl.

"I'm already tutoring them," Sakusa interrupts, and he's unsure whether to be delighted or angered at the way your face falls sullen.

"O-oh right, but—but I'd love to get your help, Motoya-kun—"

The scoff Sakusa lets out is loud, loud enough to make you wince. "You're dumb enough as it is, you don't need distractions," his words come slicing like knife. You sink in your seat.

Komori laughs awkwardly, giving you a smile—sheepish and apologetic—he's so kind, he's always so kind.

Sometimes you wonder how they're actually cousins; until you're reminded that Sakusa hadn't always been this mean to you. He had always been cautious, but he wasn't ever mean like he was out to get you at every ragged edge.

Somehow, though, the closer you got to him—past his defenses and indifference towards you—the meaner he's gotten.

You were like a moth to a flame, not in the sense that you were attracted to its light, but more so like being punished with burn after burn the closer you got.

But your feelings for Komori begged you at every instance to swallow the humiliation down, at each of Sakusa’s degrading remarks.

You take out your packed bento, wiping at the table with wipes before placing it down, the cousins moving to do the same out of adapted habit, until you notice Komori digging in his bag, eyebrows furrowed like he's confused.

"Motoya-kun? What's wrong?"

He turns to you, scratching at the back of his head, "I think I forgot my sanitizer."

You're quick on your hands, offering him yours without missing a beat and Sakusa's reminded of why he even likes you at all.

You were persistent with being able to stick around them. He thought that was remarkable. That you'd never been freaked out by his habits, you respected his space—something he couldn't say with the people who pushed and disregarded his boundaries. That instead of forcing him to adjust to you, you went out of your way for him to be comfortable with you around.

And he's flattered, really. He doesn't have to wonder if he had a chance with you because surely, he does.

Since he's so nice—nicer than a whore like you deserves, he'll let you know your feelings are reciprocated, then he'll fuck you, because surely, that's what you want… Right?

Then maybe, when you're finally his girlfriend, he can start training you to stop being such a flirty slut, that you belong only to him and that you’re nothing but his property.

But for now, he can settle with the warmth in his chest as he notices all the ways you try to get his attention.

Being with Sakusa is hard, even with Komori around, it was nerve wracking. Conversations with him weren't any easier, if anything, they were more dreadful.

When you ask Sakusa about tutoring you, you do it over lunch just so you avoid having to walk up to him alone. His answer is curt when he tells you to come over tomorrow, and that he’ll pick you up from your place; because you can try all you want to outsmart him, but he’d always catch on.

Because Sakusa was smart, and you were just you.

After lunch, you feel nothing but the dread bubbling in the pit of your stomach—churning and thrashing—because no matter how hard you try to push it down, the fact is that you’re actually scared of him.

Scared of the nitpicking he'll scrutinize you with—the way you sat, the way you looked at him, the way you trembled in his presence alone. You start thinking of what to wear, because even something as little as that can put him off—always commenting about how short your skirt is, how you're showing too much skin, how you're probably doing it on purpose.

But it's nothing you're not used to anymore.

So you tug on your fear, push it into a corner, and you tell yourself that Sakusa is mean, and condescending, and harsh, but he wouldn’t hurt you. You pick yourself up from the corner of your mind, and you repeat in your head like a mantra. Sakusa wouldn’t hurt you.

The ring of the bell breaks you out of your reverie. It reminds you that the day has almost ended, and that it felt like a blink faster than it should’ve been. Still, you pull on your things, gathering them to leave the classroom slowly emptying out.

You make a small sound of surprise when your eyes dart over to the door, where Komori stood, an anxious smile on his lips. He looks like he's been waiting for you, making your heart hammer against your chest like it wants to leap out.

Face-flushed and giddy, you walk towards him.

“Hey, Motoya-kun. What’s up?” You smile, all sweet and bright-eyed. From the pit of Komori’s stomach, something flutters. You only ever look like this when your eyes are on him; he thinks he wants to keep it to himself.

He brings a hand up to his hair, lightly scratching at the back of his head with a nervous smile, and it’s awkward in an adorable sort of way. He’s walking beside you along the corridor, it’s slow and the bit of silence between you is calm.

“Ah, well…” He starts, gaze flickering to the floor and back to you indecisively, “I was wondering if I could ask you to the newly opened café tomorrow. A-after you study with Sakusa-kun, of course,” He stutters a bit, offering you a boyish grin.

It so nearly pulls a squeak out of you, surprised in the most love struck sort of way. Your heart beats out of your chest unlike the way Sakusa makes you feel.

Your heart hammers out of fear of him—but with Komori, it's nothing but pleasant and warm and intoxicating.

Your smile is instantaneous; it comforts Komori as your lips part.

"I'd love to," you answer him softly, though an octave higher.

Sakusa finds you both like this, shyly smiling at each other like lovesick doves. There's nothing pure about you, you shouldn't be smiling that way. Especially not at the face of his cousin.

"Oi," he calls out, even through the face mask, his annoyance seeps into your skin and makes you feel small.

The blood that had rushed to your cheeks dries you pale at the glare he gives you.

"Coach is looking for you, Komori," he follows, yet never taking his eyes off of you.

"Right. I'll see you tomorrow, Y/N!"

Sakusa takes another step closer to you the moment Komori's out of sight. Your grip on your bag tightening, instinctively taking a step backwards.

The action alone makes him practically sneer with you cowering in response.

"Disgusting," he mutters, brimming with venom. "There's nothing I hate more than girls who throw themselves at any guy they see."

Maybe it's the sheer malice in his voice, or the way your eyes catch how his hand moves up—but you flinch, like expecting a hit to come across your cheek.

The pain never comes and when your eyelids flutter open, you're met with hard eyes the color of obsidian yet gleaming with a newfound resolve despite his furrowed eyebrows that suggested hitting you was far from the origin of his intentions.

Without a word, Sakusa walks away from you with his hands shoved in the pockets of his jacket.

You let your body slump against the wall. His eyes burn in the back of your head, almost like they’re warning you.

Right before you head to bed, your phone chimes once, then twice and it’s bittersweet. One from Komori, telling you he’s excited to see you tomorrow, and one from Sakusa—not beating around the bush, it says nothing but ‘9 AM.’

It’s firm and unyielding. Even as your head hits the pillow, forcing your eyes shut, sleep doesn’t come easy—not even at the thought of seeing Komori on a date.

It’s not the sunlight peeking in between your curtains that wake you, nor the sound of birds chirping outside your window. Instead, it’s the ache in your body acting like a bad omen. Nevertheless, you drag your body out of bed.

Your stomach churns but you get ready for the day.

You think the next hour couldn’t come any quicker, because you’re fidgeting on the balls of your feet and somehow, there’s goosebumps rising against your bare skin.

Your phone blinks back at you with a minute before nine o’clock but you already hear the knock on your door. Your breathing halts even as you move hurriedly to open it—and even when the air hits you as you find Sakusa on your doorstep.

You feel his eyes wander, from the very top of your head, down to your feet, and he mutters, “You look nice today.”

The blush that creeps on your cheeks is only natural. Compliments in any form that came from Sakusa were hard to come by—only because they were compliments in the most genuine, honest of ways.

Sakusa is mean, and if you were more honest with yourself, he’s a bully. But Sakusa, mean or not, is still Komori’s cousin; so you give him a smile, palms going clammy.

“Thank you, Sakusa-kun…” You trail off, hesitating on your next words, “You look nice today, too.”

And he does. The dark color of his clothes complimented his pale skin and dark, curly hair, and despite being covered by the mask, his pristine beauty seems to gleam through. Even seemingly unfazed, his gaze on you softens by a fraction.

As abrupt as it appeared, he’s already turning away, “Hurry up,” he quips, but his voice is softer because you look nice today were words that confessed his truest feelings—the ones that reminded him he’s so in love with you and that you’re the cause of warmth in chest.

Even when you strut around trying to get Komori to like you, Sakusa doesn’t attempt to deny the feelings he harbored, because you look nice today, too should mean something, shouldn’t it?

You know you’re dressed up for your date with Komori, but Sakusa doesn’t know that; so in that moment, he appreciates you. For once, there isn't one insult that lingers in his tongue or even in his head as he walks slowly.

Sakusa is nice today, you note as he keys the lock to his place. He had awkwardly placed his hand on the small of your back on the short walk it took from your place to his, guiding you along the sidewalk.

You've only been to his place once or twice, both times were with Komori, so you weren't familiar with the directions. The walk was silent, and in his silence, you found a reason to relax—just enough to make you think that this might go well.

Despite all awkwardness, Sakusa is forward. Seeing you sat on his couch so comfortably, the skirt of your dress riding up slightly, does nothing to hold back his urge to keep his hands on you.

It's a good thing he doesn't have to keep his hands to himself now, right? Since you like him so much, you'd let him fuck you now… Right?

Sakusa's movements are sly, that's why you don't question how he walks closer towards you, sitting so, so close to you—that's why you choke on the lump in your throat when his hand shoots out to grab you by the wrist, pulls you in, then presses his lips on yours.

The second that passes is only because you couldn't wrap your head around Sakusa—lips pressed against yours and body so close.

But the next second, you're pushing him off roughly enough to stop him and he's looking at you confused.

"Sakusa-kun, I think you misunderstood—I like, I like Motoya-kun, I didn't mean to—this is—" you're trampling over your words, looking at him with panicked eyes.

Sakusa mutes out the sound of your voice, all he can hear is the beating in his chest and the ache of it—the sound of his heart dropping to his stomach. He should’ve known.

All the softness in his eyes are gone. His hand, still wrapped around your wrist, gripping tighter and tighter; your heart skipping obnoxiously against your chest. Something about the way he's looking at you now petrifies you.

His silence feels deadlier than his destructive words, deadlier when you wince at his grip, whimpering, "Sakusa, you're hurting me—please," and still, he doesn't let up.

Not when he's roughly tugging you from the couch, taking your arm with a bruising grip, then he's hauling you somewhere. You thrash, panicked pleas calling out to him and apologies he doesn't deserve but you offer him anyway. All your protests are rewarded when he halts, turning to you without a hint of remorse, pushing you to the floor—his foot comes to your side, kicking you with a force that knocks the breath out of your lungs.

Bile is rising up your throat, coughing and arms shooting to your stomach to protect yourself. Scared feels too small of a word to describe the feeling that looms over you as he takes your arm again, dragging your curled up body.

Sakusa shoves you inside a room, even as you flail around and beg for help, his face remains impassive; whatever force you’re putting in the way you try to break free from his hold is futile. Of course he’s stronger. Of course, but you can’t possibly accept this, can you?

You made Sakusa yearn—disgustingly grapple on his feelings so needlessly, and nothing, he thinks, could be more unforgivable.

So he secures you on the bed, bound and within his claws, for you to take responsibility for the yearning you've planted inside of him.

"S-Sakusa, please," your begging sounds like a whimper. "I-I won't tell anyone! N-not even Motoya-ku—!"

You hear ringing in your ears before feeling the sting across your cheek. From inside your mouth, you can taste metal.

"You won't tell anyone either way," he mutters apathetically, like the idea of you telling anyone isn't a threat, "No one would believe you…"

He pauses, gaze on you hardening for a second, "You don't want Komori finding out you only got close to him because you wanted me, right?"

The sound of disbelief that escapes you is small, even the wide-eyed betrayal that flashes in your eyes does nothing to make him even pity you.

"You–I, I didn't—"

At your stuttering, Sakusa clicks his tongue, "You're such a dumb girl you don't even know what you want."

"That's not true, Sakusa—"

He glares down on you. The bed dips, bracketing your body between his knees, hovering over you, then leaning forward. His hands move slowly as if caressing you before grabbing your hair with a stinging tug.

The fear pooling your eyes only makes him even angrier.

"I hate that face," he grits out, "Always looking at me all scared, then you look at Komori like a shy innocent bitch, it pisses me off."

Pretty as you are, he lands another hit across your cheek—hard enough that you can feel a cut on your cheek trickling down with blood, the side of your ear going deaf. You’re not sure anymore if it was a slap or a punch—all that you know is that it hurts. Your vision is blurred when you open your eyes, but even through them, the insanely expressionless eyes of Sakusa are clear.

It dawns on Sakusa that you wouldn’t date him. Of course you wouldn’t. Sluts like you go for guys like Komori—so he’d just have to take you by force, make you date him by force, make you love him by force.

Besides, you look prettier forced, he observes. Your face tear-stained and bloody makes his cock throb in his pants. With your body weak underneath him, so helpless that it disgusts him and fuels him with desire all at once.

Something about your weakness, the innocence that spills from you contradicting his firm idea that you’re a dirty whore makes him livid. He pictures you painted with bruises and cuts, the image sending a shiver down his spine. Clenched fists pull back, only to land on your sides, on the same places he kicked you.

What makes you feel sick at the stomach more than the abuse he inflicts on you is the way Sakusa’s movements lack hesitation as his hands travel to your bare thighs.

"W-what are you doing?”

It's disgusting. Women like you are disgusting. You lead him on just so you can take advantage of his feelings like this—that even if he knew better, he'd still soften up for you.

It's you who lured him into this, he almost sneers at the thought. You were truly vile, and yet he loves you all the same—wants you all to himself all the same.

"Omi?' You breathe, frightened. The nickname falls affectionately, though, putting all your hope into it, wishing it would tug on his heart enough for him to let you go.

“Let’s talk about this, Omi? Please?” You cry, searching for his eyes—the ones trained on your thighs as he glides his hands against them, your dress bunched up to your hips revealing your baby pink panties. Your sobs only grow louder as he goes further up, going on as if he’s in a trance where he can’t hear you groveling at him to stop.

Strong, calloused hands stop at the band of your panties, fingers hooking, and only then does he look back up at you. Dark eyes drown you as he tugs them down torturously slow, exposing you to him in your most vulnerable state.

The same second you attempt to force your legs shut, comes a biting pain on the inside of your thighs, instantly blooming his handprint at the force. Your mouth opens to wail at the pain, but it’s the same wail that Sakusa swallows as he brings his lips to yours with a kiss so treacherously passionate.

Sakusa pulls away quickly though, eyeing your bare cunt, he brings his fingers to your slit, experimentally rubbing up and down and your response is immediate, somehow. Your slick gathers on his fingers, body squirming from beneath him.

“K-Kiyoomi, it feels weird—stop, please,” yet your hips buck into his fingers as he prods at your tight hole, “Don’t—Not there—N-no one has touched—”

He lifts an eyebrow, “You’re a virgin?” His question sounding more of a comment, because the hesitant nod you give him is almost needless when you hiss at the intrusion of his digit pushing inside of you; your walls clamping down on it, body tensing, he brings a thumb to your clit, circling with enough pressure to make it feel good.

And it’s wrong. So wrong, but it feels good because you’re moaning against your will, whimpering at the curl of his finger and at the additional finger he’s slowly sinking into you.

The stretch is uncomfortable and foreign. Nothing is in Sakusa’s mind but at the thought of you absolutely untouched, absolutely all for him to ruin. Your body instinctively leaning to his, submitting to his ministrations—fingers scissoring and pushing in and out of your pussy, the sound of your slick echoing in your ears as if to taunt you, but your legs are trembling, your gasps are broken and there’s a pressure in your pelvis about to snap.

“You’re so filthy,” he mutters, but he looks at you like you’re the farthest thing from filthy, and his comment is exactly what makes you break, eyes rolling to the back of your skull and cunt creaming around his fingers pathetically.

You feel so dirty, especially at the sound of your slick as he pulls his fingers out and shoves them inside your mouth—the taste of you tainting your tongue. Shaking your head profusely, you beg him with your eyes, “No more—please, I don’t want this.” you weep, muffled.

“Suck,” he commands, but your defiance is clear before you even shake your head, so he pushes his fingers down further, choking you until you gag and find it hard to breathe.

“Suck,” he repeats, and you relent.

Watching you suck messily on his fingers, drool and tears disheveling you, dried blood sticking to your skin, he frees his twitching cock out of its constraints.

Though hazy, your eyes catch it, the thickness of his cock—hard and flushed at the tip—your hands tugging at your restraints feebly making you panic and choke on his fingers, nearly biting down on them.

He’s quick to pull them out, glaring down at you with dark eyes, jaw ticking as his hands curl into fists; knowing what’s to come doesn’t prepare you any more at the excruciating pain of his abuse, even more so at his length pressing against your wet folds—cockhead nudging your puffy clit and making your cunt drool on him.

Both hands dig into the flesh of your thighs, pressing them to your chest. The pain on your face numbs at the sensation of him prodding on your entrance, ripping you apart and increasing the pain—your head throbs as he stretches your cunt with his fat cock, barely giving you time to adjust as he starts to move slowly despite your tense walls barely allowing him.

He curses as he ruts into you, bathing in your cries and moans, violating and invading the entirety of you. The pleasure of feeling you and having you just like this seeps into his bones, turning his languid thrusts more desperate.

“You make desperation look so pretty,” he groans, “You’re making such a mess, you like being forced like this?”

He insults you, but you’re everything he always wanted and more—the taste of your skin as he sucks marks onto your neck as if you were his to own, the clenching and humiliating sound of your cunt squelching as he pounds into you and grunts against your skin. His cock throbs inside you and drags along your velvety walls deliciously; all you can think is that you hate this.

Pressure, pain, the drowning pleasure of Sakusa all over you and inside you don’t allow you to retreat to the back of your head and forget. Not with the burning euphoria building up in your stomach or the moan that slips from your lips as Sakusa brings one of your legs down, bringing his hand to your breasts and thumb swiping around your sensitive nipples.

“O-Omi, please,” you sob, weak and submissive—just how you should be. Your nails dig into your palms, arms aching from your restraints. “I-I’m gonna—I think I—”

“Y-you really are a whore,” he spits, voice strained yet patronizing, still. “Do it, then. Cum on my cock.”

His hand moves in between your thighs, fingers pressing and rubbing circles on your clit as you cry out, tight walls clamping down on him and stuttering his already sloppy thrusts, your arousal running down his length and down to his heavy balls slapping against your ass.

Your moans come out as squeals of his name, your back arching and breath catching in your throat, vision going white as he continues to fuck into you.

His breathing is ragged, moving to bury his face into the crook of your neck in an odd show of affection, your swollen cunt pulsating around his cock as he suddenly stills, his low groan vibrating against your skin as he empties inside you.

You want to cry—but nothing comes out, all you can feel is the bruises on your skin, Sakusa’s cock buried deep inside you and his cum leaking from your abused hole, the stickiness and the sweat.

Maybe Sakusa’s right. Maybe you are disgusting, because as he peels himself from you, thinking it’s all over—Sakusa doesn’t undo the ties keeping you on the bed.

He reaches towards the bedside table, grabbing his phone. The sound of the shutter going off once, twice, over and over with the camera directed at you pulls your soul out of you.

“Omi—?” Your question remains a lump in your throat, but Sakusa is smart. He doesn’t need to hear your question.

“You’re my girlfriend now…” He mutters carelessly, “but I’m sure you don’t want Komori to see how you like to be fucked, right?”

#sakusa smut #haikyuu smut #yandere haikyuu #;commish

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shima-draws · 5 years

Note

Oh my gosh okay-I hope this doesn't sound weird but would you be willing to write a BNHA drabble about your college AU? Maybe something with Todoroki and Deku and All Might together? I love your AU and would love to see you write more about it!!

[[Send me a fandom/ship/prompt and I’ll write a drabble for it!]]

!!! I WAS SO HAPPY TO GET THIS ASK OH MY GOD?? I love doing stuff for my College AU…thank you for sending this in!

Anyway I got carried away (no surprise there, lmao) so this ended up being. Over 2k words. NOT MY INTENTION BUT I HAD FUN SO THAT’S ALL THAT MATTERS ANYWAY RIGHT

For anyone reading who doesn’t know anything about my College AU, I provided lots of background info in the fic anyway just in case? So it should work as a standalone oneshot without any prior context? But if you want the majority of the AUs details, you can check that out here c:

Anyway. Toshi and Izuku literally act like they’ve been father and son all their lives, Shouto thirsts, and there’s brief mentions of plane engines involved. Fun stuff.

ENJOY FAM!!

——————————————————–

“I’m not sure about this, Midoriya.”

They stand outside of the hangar entrance, the afternoon sun beating down on them. Summer hasn’t entirely left yet, the air still thick with heat. Shouto puffs out a breath and wipes the sweat off his forehead—from being hot or being nervous, he isn’t sure.

“Oh, come on,” Midoriya, gorgeous, perfect, endlessly kind Midoriya, nudges him in his side. “I’ve been wanting you to come here for a while and now you finally got the chance to since your afternoon class got cancelled! And I have clearance. So it’ll be fine!”

Shouto doesn’t really know of any other military hangars that sit on the edge of a college campus like this one does, so he knows it’s a pretty unique setup. A lot of people take classes here despite the intimidating black gate around the building and the numerous warning signs plastered to the structure. The students into aeronautics really do have it lucky. And so does Midoriya—currently an aerospace engineering major. He has access to the building, and has been pestering Shouto for weeks to come see the kinds of things he gets up to. Especially since he’s also a teacher assistant for one of the professors. And this particular professor is extremely well-known both within his field and outside of it.

Upon hearing Shouto’s quiet admittance of admiration for said professor, Midoriya immediately decided it would be a good idea to introduce them. In person.

Shouto’s really tempted to turn back around and head back to his dorm, even though he knows Bakugou is probably there right now doing unspeakable things to Kirishima—having to sit through that more than awkward situation sounds better than possibly passing out from meeting someone so unbelievably famous.

But Midoriya, with his lovely smile and bright green eyes and perfect everything, grabs Shouto’s hand and ushers him along, which promptly shuts up every bad thought he’s having. He is more than okay with this. Totally not about to trip over his own feet or anything. Are his hands sweaty? God, they probably are, it’s already sweltering outside, and Midoriya’s hand is strong and callused, most likely from all the engineering work he does, and Shouto’s hand is probably all gross from constantly plucking on guitar strings and gracelessly hitting piano keys and tapping away on his laptop while he fiddles with his composing programs, and—

Midoriya scans his student ID and the automatic doors open with a soft hiss, cutting off all train of thought. Shouto idly notices the green-haired boy still hasn’t let go of his hand, and refuses to comment on it. Let him enjoy this.

They travel down a series of twisting and turning hallways. All the people that pass through raise their hands in greeting to Midoriya, who energetically says hello every time. They all seem to know him, and seem genuinely happy to see him—like he’s someone important, someone worth going out of their way to say hi to. Shouto’s secretly glad that Midoriya gets such good attention from these people. He definitely deserves it.

They finally reach a very plain-looking and unassuming door. Midoriya releases Shouto’s hand (much to his disappointment—and he’s almost tempted to try holding it again) to unlock the door with his card.

When they stroll in, Shouto takes a second to look around. They seem to be in a workroom of sorts—blueprints and papers are scattered all about, as well as several complicated looking mechanical parts, tools, and larger machinery. Midoriya hums, a thoughtful frown crossing his features.

“That’s weird. I’m sure he’s on break right now…maybe he’s in the workshop?”

A resounding clang echoing from the doorway at the far side of the room is their answer.

Midoriya brightens like the sun, and Shouto thinks his smile is almost blinding in its intensity.

“Toshi!” He cries out, happily, and scampers into the next room. Shouto follows him at a slower pace, apprehension sinking into his nerves. He’s mere steps away from meeting Toshinori Yagi, All Might—one of the most famous war heroes in their country’s history, not to mention the man his father has a personal vendetta against—and Midoriya is on a first name basis with him. A nickname basis with him. That’s—that’s fine. It’s fine.

The last thing Shouto expects to see when he steps into the workshop is a tall, spindly looking man who is all bones and no muscle halfway buried under a plane engine. Huh.

Midoriya bounces on his heels. His grin is contagious, because Shouto feels his own lips quirking up at the corners. He looks like an oversized puppy.

Hearing them come in, the man underneath the engine propels himself out on a small rolling platform. He’s covered in dirt and grime, his shirt sleeves rolled up to the creases of his elbows. He looks gaunt—cheekbones sunken in, eyes dull and skin alabaster pale. Upon seeing Midoriya, though, his whole entire face lights up—and it’s like the green-haired boy’s presence is breathing life into his very frame, because he suddenly looks more vigorous than ever.

“Izuku, my boy!” He says with a wide grin, practically beaming. The pure delight at seeing Midoriya seems to radiate off of him. Shouto blinks in shock.

This is All Might?

Shouto had seen tons of pictures and online articles about him after the plane crash that had destroyed his body and therefore ruined his career, but witnessing him in person is definitely different. He’d gone from being an almost superpowered pilot to a sad, miserable shell of himself—but despite all that, he’s still working with planes and engines as he used to, just no longer out in the field. The fact that he’d gone from being a well-respected and admired military hero to a, well, still well-respected and admired professor of all things is a bit of a shock. (Then again, Midoriya had mentioned offhandedly that All Might always had a soft spot for mentoring and training others. It sort of makes sense that this is the direction he’d go with his career after being forbidden from being put back on active duty ever again.)

“Hey, Toshi!” Midoriya greets like it’s the most normal thing in the world to walk in on a legendary icon casually fixing a piece of complicated mechanic equipment. Shouto thinks his head is going to explode.

“Help me up, would you, my boy?” All Might asks, and Midoriya is at his side within seconds, easily pulling him to his feet. (Shouto pretends he isn’t openly watching the muscles in his arms flex with the movement.)

Once they’re all straightened out, All Might gratefully ruffles Midoriya’s hair, who giggles in delight. Shouto is in absolute disbelief when the blonde man loops an arm around Midoriya’s shoulder and pulls him into a side hug, which the boy melts into easily, naturally, like this is a common occurrence. They’re the picture of absolute camaraderie and Shouto feels like he’s going to drown under the mountain of questions he has about this predicament. Midoriya’s told him plenty of stories about how All Might had plucked him out of a sea of endless eager faces desperate to please and had given him the means to chase his dreams—but he hadn’t mentioned much about why they’re so close, or how they moved past the mentor-protégé stage and into the realm of actual friendship. Or…family, it seems now, because with the way they’re playfully nudging each other it really looks like they could be father and son.

After the two of them finally settle down, All Might’s gaze travels over to land on Shouto—and a shocked look makes the very vibrant blue of his eyes stand out even more.

“Oh! Um,” Midoriya dances on his feet for a second before rushing over to Shouto and gently guiding him forward, fingers grasping the crook of his elbow.

“This is Todoroki-kun! The, uh, the friend that I told you about before!”

Understanding dawns on All Might’s face, along with a strange knowing look that twinkles in his eyes.

“Oh, yes,” he chuckles, putting his hands on his hips. Despite looking somewhat like a walking talking skeleton, the way he holds himself is confident, yet friendly. Shouto’s starting to see how he ended up in a professor position. “I’ve heard plenty of good things about you from Izuku, young Todoroki.”

Shouto’s mouth drops open in surprise, and he feels his cheeks become warm. Midoriya’s talked about him? To All Might? And—and he’d told him good things?

“Toshi!” Midoriya squeaks, his arms flailing about. It’s a nervous habit Shouto’s picked up on throughout the course of their friendship.

All Might leans back and laughs, a full, deep-sounding one from his belly. And even though he’s not even close to looking like he once did in his prime, Shouto can practically feel the raw power emanating from that laugh.

Midoriya is pouting, but it’s half-hearted at best. If Shouto had more guts he’d start to consider taking that lower lip between his and kissing the boy silly, but again, he’s nowhere near ballsy enough. Bakugou wouldn’t hesitate at all but Shouto has standards, thank you very much.

His attention is drawn back to All Might when the man steps forward and offers a hand.

“I’m glad to officially meet the boy my favorite student talks about so much,” All Might says with a wide grin. Midoriya sputters but Shouto smiles, feeling a bit warm on the inside.

He definitely had his doubts before, but now he’s absolutely certain. Whatever relationship All Might and Midoriya have, it’s special, important, and he can tell just by looking at the older man that he absolutely treasures Midoriya, just like Shouto does. Good. All Might has very good taste. Not that he’s entirely surprised. Midoriya is a literal ray of sunshine and anyone who thinks otherwise is either completely blind or a massive idiot. (I’m looking at you, Bakugou.)

“It’s an honor to meet you, All Might,” Shouto says, honestly, taking the blonde’s outstretched hand.

All Might startled at that, blinking a few times. Then, he chuckles, shaking Shouto’s hand vigorously.

“Please, please, no need for formalities! Besides, I haven’t gone by that codename in years. Call me Toshinori, okay?” He says, smiling kindly.

Shouto exhales when All M—Toshinori releases his hand. (God, thats gonna take getting used to.) “Oh…sure.”

Midoriya bounces back over to his side, his posture eager in its tension. “Toshi, did you see the blueprints I left for you yesterday? I wanted to double check and make sure I did all my calculations correctly…”

Toshinori hums thoughtfully for a moment, and then he nods in recollection. “Oh, yes, yes! That’s right. You did wonderfully on them, my dear boy. I think this next assignment is going to be the perfect amount of challenging for my class.”

Midoriya lights up like a goddamn Christmas tree, and Shouto’s having a very hard time not laughing at how thoroughly pleased he looks. He didn’t realize how much Midoriya appreciates Toshinori’s praise, but he guesses it’s a bit obvious why.

“If we apply what you drew out to the most current version of the engine…ah, let me see…where did I put those blueprints…?”

“You two are pretty close,” Shouto comments, watching as Toshinori putters about in the shop.

Midoriya blinks at that. “We are?”

Shouto looks at him incredulously. “You’re on a first name basis, you’re more relaxed with him than I’ve ever seen you with anyone else, you hang off of each other like you’ve been friends for years and he calls you “my dear boy”. And you call him “Toshi”. So yeah. That’s the very definition of being close, Midoriya.”

Instead of getting embarrassed like Shouto thinks he will, Midoriya looks down at the floor thoughtfully.

“Yeah,” he says, quietly, after a long stretch of comfortable silence. He glances up at Shouto, beaming. “I guess we are.”

His gaze travels back over to Toshinori, who is now digging through a pile of blueprints.

“He means a lot to me,” Midoriya admits, softly, fondly. “He’s done a lot for me. He’s…one of the most important people in my life.”

Shouto closes his eyes and smiles. He’s glad Midoriya has someone on his side like this, an adult figure who’s willing to be there for him through thick and thin. He knows this goes both ways, too—Midoriya is clearly giving Toshinori all the credit, but what he doesn’t realize is that Shouto’s sure Toshinori believes Midoriya to be irreplaceable as well.

He opens his eyes to see Midoriya gazing at him affectionately, and his heart leaps. Maybe one day he can become this important to Midoriya, too.

——————————————————–

BUT LITTLE DOES SHOUTO KNOW, HE ALREADY IS. IZUKU’S JUST BAD AT SHOWING IT LMAO

At this point in the AU they’re already crushing hard on each other and Izuku has already fallen into a routine with Toshi where he invades his apartment at 3 AM to ramble on about how gay he is for Shouto. So Toshi is VERY well aware of his attachment to him hence his subtle teasing when they’re finally introduced in person lmao

Anyway I hope you enjoyed–I had so much fun writing this!! I love my kids :’D

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