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#it feels like nothing ever comes from it and im still trying but it just keeps getting harder to keep trying
rubydubydoo122 · 1 day
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thank you for your very correct opinions on red hood!tim 🙏 like why would he even care specifically abt crime alley???
but what are your thoughts on red hood!damian or duke? i honestly believe talia would kill the joker and that would be it - good luck on making talia let her kid back into gotham
red hood!duke though... we could maximize angst potential if he finds his (jokerized) parents *after* he comes back to gotham from the dead
Here's the thing, I see Duke Becoming the Red Hood more than Damian, but I still can't see either of them becoming the Red Hood.
Damian would be able to be ruthless, yes, but he doesn't have a reason to have an iron fist over Gotham's drug problem, and--
see here's the thing that Reverse Robins au is that most writer don't really think about how the character would react if they were in another character's shoes
So, If Damian died, and came back only to find nothing had changed, how would he react? He would probably think he was never enough for his Father, and I think he would stay with the league and become Ra's heir.
now Duke....Duke Dying trying to save his parents from the Joker, only to find his parents jokerized???? Idk why, but I don't think Duke could ever become an Anti-hero like Jason is. I feel like Duke after coming back from the Dead would probably be more apathetic, and especially since he was trying to save his parents, he would have a more "We can't save everyone" mindset. He would make sure none of his younger siblings took extensive risks, He would see himself as more expendable (Which probably drives Damian and Bruce up a wall) Im sorry, I just can't see Duke becoming an Antihero
but also, I don't think anyone in the 80 saw Jason becoming an anti hero, until Garzonas. So idk. Take my opinions with a grain of salt
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milo-is-rambling · 29 days
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I wish I had friends near meeeeeee to distract me from my brainnnnnnnnnn
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#need to talk to anyone irl who isn’t related to me or dating my mom or my therapist#anyone else near me please I’m losing my mind#nature isn’t healing me sleeping in a fully dark room all day isn’t healing me how do I magically fix this without having to put any work#into it oh I can’t oh u have to do the work okay how do I do that. therapy once a week. oh. okay. yup.#can I speedrun it? oh no? I can’t. oh damn. okay fine whatever. therapy once a week. AND I HAVE TO ACTUALLY LISTEN AND DO WHAT SHE SAYS. bro#what the hell okay fine#well here I am !!!!! where is the fixing where is the feeling better I feel like all I do is stir up all these touch emotions from every#part of my life at once and then she sends me off to rot for week before I come back and talk again#I just feel like I’m losing it!!!!! and ik it’s extra bad bc birthday countdown is on in my brain and im stressed and i feel like a huge#fuck up that can never be fixed and like I will die having done nothing with my life except weigh other people down and so exhausting and my#brain won’t ever shut up like yes I get it years and years and years of built up shit that I never properly dealt with and still hold blame#for constantly and I feel like I will never be fixed like I CANT be fixed like this is a losing battle and I just am struggling today man#idk what I was saying I just took my morning weed hit to try and relax my back a little and now my brain is like scrambled eggs#which is good that means it’s working#I’m gonna try to take a nap maybe cause I only slept four hours and it was like choppy thru the night and then maybe I’ll go to the lake#later I’ve been feeling the need to be in a body of water recently
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lochley · 8 months
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idk how to explain it but sakai really is just manic pixie dream girl vibes but like.... for lesbians? so swap out the weird childlike quirkiness for something way more messy
#og#i guess a better way to say it is that her character is like 4 trauma responses in a trenchcoat#which is another different way of saying i kinda headcanon her as having bpd but dont wanna come off romanticizing it#but considering a few details about her character that were never explored in canon materials i think it's not...#wrong to say she's responding to trauma in some ways at least#she just really feels like the kind of person where nothing is ever going to be enough to fill her up to a normal extent#she's never going to actually feel satisfied hence having a job that's literally a built in anti-commitment generator#because gotta leave before things get so serious that it'll destroy her if they leave first or before she realizes she isn't deserving#she's got impulsiveness at least around jeff aka around the things that make her feel something#and honestly i feel like she was like that before the aforementioned trauma which#for context!#child death tw#she'd apparently been married once before and lost a baby which is SO much to leave out of the show but i get why it didnt have a place#and im guessing it was then another catalyst to blow up her life and run away from her Stable Marriage (if it was even that#since she does seem to end up in relationships that are a bit... overly passionate in different ways - and if it was stable she wouldve bee#incredibly bored of it after a while anyway since it may have just been a way to pretend she could do normalcy#and that she's not still thinking about jeff all day every day or whoever else she may have been into to that extent)#but it just. feels like she'd always been this way no matter what#and that event just solidified her in those mindsets until Trying to make things work with jeff despite the difficulties and then#JEFF FUCKING GOES BACK IN TIME AND LEAVES HER ALL ALONE AGAIN and she's just like oh okay#yeah there's literally no stability no happiness no anything in this world i'm never going to get close to anyone#ever again and just drink myself across the galaxy when im not girlbossing from throwing myself into work#but yeah anyway not saying the above is directly bpd it's just the unstable trauma responses i'm obsessed with#no matter how much of this is me just reading into her like 4 appearances way too much lmfao
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secondplayercanada · 1 year
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#ooc#vent#my brother and i got into an argument in the immediate family chat about2 hours ago and im still emotionally out of whack from it.#right now I'm struggling to feel anything but extreme dislike and coldness to him. I've felt so disrespected and unappreciated by him for.#well probably years now. a long time. and he blew up at me for no reason and basically said my autism is the problem.#something so intrinsic and unable to be separated from me is the provlem.tje thing that's been making it so harf for me for so long.#I'm sitting at work trying not to cry again as i type this .#i don't know if i will ever fully come back from this. i don't know if i *want* to try and fix things after this.#he seemed to hate me. and i dont even really care anymore. how sad is that. what hurts most is that it feels like confirmation that im#the problem. not him#me. like it always has been because ive spent most of my life undiagnosed and unknowing. suspecting but that's about it.#I'm sick and tired of not being comfortable at home. im sick and tired of being scared he'll hurt me. I'm sick and tired of him keeping#me awake at night. I'm sick and tired of him not even doing bare minimum and reaping all the rewards.#i hate how it feels like mum and dad are protecting him. how nothing ever changes and i keep trying but i can't do anything.#i can't even move out rental vacancy is less than 1% abd rents like $500+ a week.#i dont want to have to leave but i may have too just to keep my sanity and i hate it i hate it i hate it.#i hate him. i wish he would go away. i wish ue would face reak consequences and know how it feels. i wish mt sister woulf stop choosing him#like hes not the problem. i haye feeling like this.#i hate being the problem.
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steampoweredskeleton · 7 months
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I feel like I'm at a point in mental health where CBT is no longer very helpful. Like I know what most of my problems are. I do things to challenge myself and challenge my way of thinking whenever I can. I actively make decisions and change my behaviour to ensure things don't get worse BC I know my symptoms and what can make them worse.
So now talking to this therapist doesn't help BC they just tell me what I already know. And give me tasks that I already know I need to do.
We had an interesting one today where she was like "you need to be able to identify your emotions" and I was like "yes, I know, I try to break them down based on physical response BC I can't really read my emotions" to which she said "you need to be able to identify them, and not concentrate on the physical response". We went in this cycle for a few minutes, after which she said "can you read other people's emotions?". I, stupidly thinking that maybe she was getting it that I am autistic (I know it's on my chart) and can't do that, told her no.
My homework for this week is to make note of how I emotionally feel, not physically, and try to pay attention to the emotions of those around me.
So that's great. At this point I just need someone to help me plan my week so I can function better and THAT shit isn't available on the NHS!
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332-442 · 1 year
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You know what's fucked up? The trauma really doesn't go away.
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ouchhq · 2 years
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,,
#im exhausted#im so tired of everything i just cried my eyes out and i want to throw up#i am so tired of meaning nothing to no one i feel like im just here to be kind and show people theyre loved and appreciated and get#treated like thats just what i am and what i do#like . none of my friends from different friend groups apparently give a shit about me#i feel like im always putting my feelings and my whole being aside to make sure everyone feels valued and appreciated but no one does that#for me#i have been feeling like SHIT for forever and lately more than usual but i say nothing because i dont wanna burden people with the weight#of me and my issues… but i subtly let them know and i know they know#and still people come to me only for support theyre like ‘hey how areu u’ and when i //jokingly// say i feel like shit (because i dont#bother lying anymore) they just dismiss it and proceed to say how they’re having issues and whatever and being the stupid caring idiot i am#i ask them if they wanna talk about it and all of that and i try to support them but i never ever get that back and it fucking sucks !!!!!!!#IT SUCKS ASS I WANNA SCREAM#i feel so lonely#i was talking about this with some people how i always try to make everyone fee comfortable even if it means making myself feel#uncomfortable and i always put myself aside and let others shine and#stupid example but listen: i went to gardaland with my friends last night. there were 3 of us. i was always ALWAYS behind them#third wheeling#why? because theyre much more confident and generally speaking self absorbed and they feel that they have to be at the front at all times#and im not saying this because i dislike them im just saying because ive known them for years and ive studied their behavior#and i let them stay in front butbi spent the whole night walking behind them and waiting in line behind them and they just left me there#but how come im always the only one who tries to fucking care for everyone ????? is anyone ever gonna care for me?? ever????#i feel so lonely and worthless i just want to cry
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stellardeer · 1 month
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TL;DR - How would you kick someone out of your house without involving police? and Should you?
My no-note blog is probably not the best place to ask this question, but maybe someone will come along and answer, who knows.
So in the ideal circumstance that we abolish the police, I've been wondering about a specific scenario. Say there is a person in your home, for whatever reason, who has no legal right to be there, and you do not want them there (again, for whatever reason) but they refuse to leave and you want to forcibly remove them from your home.
Most people nowadays would threaten to call the cops on them, and usually that alone is enough to get people to leave. I've never actually had this problem myself, but I've known numerous people who've talked about these kinds of situations (and coincidentally they were all middle class, if that tells you anything...) I, personally, would think twice (or a million times) about calling the cops on someone, especially if the person in question is particularly vulnerable to police brutality. So, even if the police aren't abolished, I still want to know the proper alternative to handle this kind of situation.
I'm a pretty weak, easily overpowered person, so my first instinct would be to like.. call someone I know or go get a strong neighbor or something to help me get this person off of my property.
I know that the specifics of the situation also play a key role here, too, on how to handle it. Like, if the person is reasonable, I would hope that just telling them to leave would get them to go - easy enough. But if they refuse to move.. what do I even do? If it's someone that I know very well, I might think to take a break and just walk away from them and hope we can sort things out once we've calmed down. If it's someone that I don't know very well, though, (not even necessarily an intruder, but just say someone who is overstaying their welcome) and especially if tensions are not even high, I wouldn't really know what to do. Some states even have squatters rights, so like.. sometimes you literally CAN'T do anything about this person being in your home, and in some cases they can even get you kicked out. I think it's kind of obvious that if the person clearly has violent intentions towards me, then I have a right to defend myself, but again, I am not going to be able to do that by myself, and I don't know what the legalities are around asking for help from another citizen, i.e. not a cop, if someone means to do you harm?
And what if you do ask for help and your helper ends up injuring the person in the process of trying to get them out?? I'd imagine it's still better than calling a cop, and risking getting a life-ruining criminal record, or worse, shot and killed. But I'd also imagine there could be grounds for them to sue if they get injured by the helper since the helper is not a professional of any kind and not protected in anyway. Only some states have protections against self defense anyway, and I don't know if it even counts if you invited the person into your home willingly and they weren't being violent to begin with. Like.. if they person is just stubbornly standing there and then your burly neighbor puts hands on them first, I don't think that even counts as self defense for the homeowner? At that point if the person fights back then they have a case for self-defense.
And I don't know what the leftist attitude is towards personal property like that anyway, like should we even have a right to our own home? I don't know the leftist view on that, I get the idea that individualism is not the move, but like.. do we still have our own personal space? Space that we are allowed to bar others from entering? Even if that space extends to the entirety of a 2-bedroom home? I'm asking sincerely, because I really haven't read enough socialist theory, so I don't know what the opinions are on home ownership in general. Like in an ideal society, would we supposedly just allow the person to stay for as long as they like, as long as they aren't hurting anything? That's another part of it, like what if they aren't doing any harm but I still don't want them there? Am I wrong for wanting them to leave, even if I don't know them? Supposing even if they are an intruder, if they haven't stolen anything or hurt me or my animals, but they just... won't leave, should I even be mad about that?
But again, forget an ideal society, let's take it back to reality, assuming that I live in the US and the laws are exactly the same as they are in this moment, police are not abolished, but I am choosing to not involve the police in this matter... what is the right thing to do???? Should I just resolve myself to accept that this person lives with me now?? I don't even live in a state with squatters rights, so I don't legally have to, but.. should I? (more thoughts and anecdotes if the tags if you feel like reading)
#leftism#socialism#communism#abolish police#this is open to debate for anyone it's one half sincere question and one half ethics think piece#like.. there may not be any one 'right' 'good' answer for every situation i just want to hear opinions from people who know more than me#please try to be civil and i know this might sound like a stupid question but I'm asking it in good faith#I feel like a LOT of people (at least US citizens) will just tell me 'well duh you have a right to not want someone in your space'#but like idk i've been thinking over this for a few days now and questioning if I even do have that right??#like obviously i have a right to boundaries but do i have a right to a 784sq ft home?#if i have extra space im not occupying all of the time is it wrong for me to keep someone out of it?#i'm someone who prefers to live alone and i've just recently got my house to myself after having a guest for over a year#he is a friend of mine and it made me miserable having him here sometimes (despite him doing nothing wrong)#but our other friends kept telling me to kick him out and i just couldnt believe they would even suggest that??#like.. just because i want to live by myself doesn't mean it's better to put him out on the street??#i still cant believe they saw no issue with that#and not once while he was here did i ever consider making him leave so this question isn't about him or anything#this anecdote is just an example of like.. differences in opinion on personal space#i have a 2-bd trailer and i've been waiting to turn my second bedroom into an office#but i let him live in the extra room while he was here because i was able to get by just fine without it#but i think i might feel different if someone i didnt know just showed up in my home one day and wanted to live here#or what if my friend (not that he would EVER) did become violent and i DID need to force him to leave? like .. what do??#this question mostly came up because someone i met recently was telling a story about a terrible roommate he had#but his (the person telling the story) parents owned the property or something and this guy's lease was up but he wasn't leaving#so they threw all his stuff out because he had been gone for a couple weeks and they assumed he wasnt coming back#but then he showed up one day looking for his things and was trying to take stuff from the kitchen#and the guy (telling the story) told him that he couldn't take anything and he needed to leave and said he would call the cops if he didn't#and i kept my mouth shut (especially cause the roommate sounded particularly foul) but i would not dream of calling the cops over that#but it was like... just because they owned the property and he didn't want him there calling the cops was a perfectly reasonable response#it sickens me
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tojipie · 6 months
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mma fighter toji? (im so happy tk see that you’re back btw ❤️)
i really do think this is the best ask i’ve ever gotten pls feel proud of ur brain before u go to bed tonight bc ily. wrote this on the verge of falling asleep if u see any spelling error no u did not.
mma fighter!toji x reader | 1k words
content: violence, injury, blood, reader objectified by stranger
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“you got it, you got—don’t fucking look at her, look at me fushiguro!” your boyfriend’s manager yells, holding a bucket to the younger man’s heaving chest with a sigh.
toji nods at the command, taking a swig of water and spitting into the vessel before wiping his mouth with an ungloved hand. fighters never drank in the ring, it’d only settle heavy in your stomach. make you easier to catch.
blood and saliva drip down his chin and onto the floor of the ring, bright red patters against black mesh.
you watch the veins in toji’s neck pulse underneath sweaty skin, decorated with swirls of black and grey ink. his tattoos extend down his chest and back, working to cover the mess of purple and blue bruises across his body.
on his rib lies a scrawl of your name, etched into his skin for millions to see every time he stepped into the ring.
the raven haired man says something unintelligible to his team before smacking his temple with his glove, almost as if he was trying to knock something back into place.
you cringe at the thought of a brain injury so early into his career. you’d heard stories before, world class fighters reduced to shells of themselves. shot memories, seizures, even paralysis. you try not to think too deeply about it.
the TV screens in front of you pan to across the ring to his opponent. ryomen sukuna, 2 years into his career with every title under the sun.
everything except heavyweight champion. the name belonging to the winner of this very match.
sukuna was terrifying, completely unfazed by the rivets of blood pouring from his temple and left nostril. you’d quite literally watched him pop his nose back into place during the first break after your boyfriend had dealt a serious blow to it. to say this man scared you was an understatement.
toji notices your anxiety, leaning against the mesh wall of the ring to look down at you in the front row.
“you watchin’?” he yells with a grin, barely coherent over the mixed sounds of cheers and boos.
you smile, though your boyfriend scowls at the onslaught of paparazzi trying to capture the tender moment. he spits at the see-through wall of the ring to serve as an unspoken “fuck you.” cheers ring out from the sidelines as the screens capture the interaction.
toji turns to you and pushes off of the mesh wall, throwing his hands out with a “tsk” and a shake of his head.
“you worried about me baby?” he teases, fully aware that the cameras are still on him. “you don’t gotta worry about me, right?.”
you laugh, motioning for security to shoo any onlookers off. the mix of adrenaline and attention was clearly getting to him, though you loved when he got cocky like this. he always fucked you hardest after a big win.
the two men settle back into the middle of the ring, the referee separating them with an stern arm. sukuna looks down at you with an unreadable expression, pinning you to your seat with just a glance. toji’s pink-haired opponent turns back to him with a sinister grin, taking out his mouthguard to speak clearly. you only manage to make out the end of his insult, blood running cold as his words register.
“..and after they give me that title? i might fuck that little girlfriend of yours, fushiguro.”
toji says nothing, expression blank. you begin to wonder if he even heard the other man, but the buzz signifying round 3 pulls you out of your thoughts. you brace for whatever may come next.
sukuna is a brick wall, but toji’s light on his feet, weaving in and out of punches with his gloves guarding his face.
he’s faster than usual, spurred on by adrenaline and anger.
he lands a kick to sukuna’s ribs, the sickening crunch reaching the front row right on impact. definitely two, maybe even three broke ribs you hear a fan spectate.
his opponent curses, landing two punches to his chest before knocking toji to the ground, just barely missing the raven haired man with a solid blow right as he springs upwards.
“you gonna fuck her?” toji scoffs, landing another kick to sukuna’s injured ribs. you can barely make out their conversation even with a front row seat, you doubt anyone in the stands has been able to understand them this whole time.
the pink-haired man winces on impact, his first show of weakness since the beginning of the match.
“huh? tell me.” your boyfriend muses, dodging a kick and throwing sukuna to the floor. cheers ring out in the stadium at the direct show of brutality, you cover your mouth in anticipation.
toji settles his body weight on the man below him, twisting his arm as far as it will go while keeping his face to the floor. his legs wrap around and under the second man, squeezing his injured ribs like a vice with his thighs.
sukuna lands a blow with his free arm, then another, then another. toji does nothing, holding his opponent down with a smile almost too wide, too sinister.
“fuck.. fuck!” sukuna yells, struggling under the weight of the man above him.
the crowd is in hysterics, the announcers are out of their seats. “an unprecedented burst of energy,” you hear them call it. nothing like they’d ever seen before during any of toji’s matches.
you have to fight off the ego boost it gives you, knowing he’s only fighting this hard for you. because another man dared to speak on your name in his presence.
toji takes a couple more punches with that same smile, finally grabbing his opponent’s free arm to render the other man motionless.
you stagger out of your seat, running into the isle to get a better view of the ring.
the referee crouches by the two men, waiting to call the match. sukuna shares a look with third man, groaning before tapping toji’s wrist three times.
the crowd is animalistic. screams, wails, jeers, all of it meshes together within seconds.
toji’s security forms a circle around you, leading you towards the ring as fans flood the isles in celebration.
that was it, he’d won the title. Fushiguro Toji, heavyweight champion.
sukuna is led out of the ring by his team, choosing to forego any post-match interviews. he doesn’t dare look at you as he passes you on the steps, humiliated beyond belief.
calls of your name echo out from the center of the ring, your boyfriend pushing past paparazzi to scoop you into his arms.
the heat from his torso melts into yours as he clutches you to his body. he’s sweaty, practically bleeding from every direction too. but he’s smiling.
it’s not the smile he puts on for press, a quick flash of perfect teeth to keep the morale light, keep his sponsors happy. not the sinister smile he flaunts during matches either, fueled by bloodlust and pure adrenaline.
not even the cocky smile he puts on for the crowd when the match gets tough, the one that gets his opponents mad, gets the crowd hit and bothered.
this smile is soft, private. a small show of love in a sea of flashing cameras and prying eyes. this smile says “i love you, I do this for you.”
you reach for his face, pressing a soft kiss to his temple. toji wipes the blood—his— from your lips with a calloused thumb, pulling your head to his chest with a soft murmur.
“i love you.”
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gyusrose · 18 days
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➵ you’re so vain -> l.hs
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⚠︎ smut (mdni)
✎ jock!heeseung x reader, enemies to ?????, heeseung is rlly annoying, hate sex ;), hair pulling, dirty talk, unprotected sex, degradation, backshots lmao. i think that’s it?
summary: attending a new school was supposed to be a fresh start for you, trying to be nice to everyone and have new friends, yet coming across lee heeseung threw all of that out the window.
(heeseung x fem.reader)
wc: 3.2k
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your sweaty hands could not be gripping the steering wheel any harder. you wouldn’t call yourself “super shy” but when it comes to a whole new community of people, teenagers, hell yeah you are.
you had to move exactly at the middle of the year due to your mom’s work. they offered her double the salary at the other side of the city, who was she to say no to that? although you were going to miss your friends and the overall environment of your old home, you couldn’t just tell your mom ‘no’, either way her decisions are final.
you just got here two days ago, and to be honest, it wasn’t that bad. the worst thing so far is the fact that the nearest shopping center was 30 minutes away but you’ll live.
you didn’t except your first day of school to be so nerve-wracking. surely you’ll make some friends but who knows what people are like here. eventually, you saw the big navy blue sign with your school’s name on it. it was an averagely big school, bigger than your old one, which also meant more people.
the parking space alone was scary. it was huge yet already full even though it was still fairly early. you went around in circles around the parking lot, trying to find a vacant spot. fortunately you did at the second-to-last line.
as you tried to park, the limited space you had made it difficult to, having to back up and drive in constantly. as you reversed your car, you must have completely forgotten that you aren’t the only one there, feeling a small crash at the bumper of your car.
your eyes widened in panic. you looked back to see what you hit, and with your luck, it revealed at very nice black car, to which you’ve just hit. you tried to quickly get into your parking spot, hoping it was nothing serious, but then someone came walking up to you.
‘shit, that must be the owner’ you saw his red, rather handsome, fuming face.
you got out of your car to confront the first person interaction.
“hey look im so-“
“CANT YOU FUCKING DRIVE RIGHT? YOU HIT MY VERY EXPENSIVE CAR WITH YOUR THING, WHO DO YOU THINK YOU ARE?”
oh he was an asshole. you almost scoffed in his face. who does he think he is.
“it was accident that’s all, it was barely a scratch calm down man.”
“IT WAS DEFINITELY A SCRATCH LOOK AT IT! JUST BECAUSE YOU KEEP YOUR CAR LOOKING ALL MISERABLE DOESNT MEAN I WILL, DO YOU EVEN HAVE A LICENSE?”
lord take me back. you were so close to just leaving him there arguing with himself. but you didn’t want to make him even angrier.
“look im sorry! i can pay for the fix up if that’s what you want, i dont know what else to do?”
the boy scoffed and rolled his eyes at your statement.
“you think i don’t have the money for it? please, it shows you’re a newbie around here.”
“i didn’t mean it like that-“
“yo heeseung!! come on bro!” another blonde boy called from afar, hopefully ending the argument y’all were having.
“ watch your back new girl.” with one last glare, he left to join his group of friends.
you rolled your eyes. shiver my fucking timbers, you thought.
you took a deep breath before grabbing your backpack and making your way into school , hoping to never see his face ever again.
>>
you thought that was going to be the end of it all. but oh boy were you wrong. soon you found out that heeseung is the captain of the football team, and pretty much the most popular boy in school. as cliche as it sounds, every girl would drop their panties if he asked them to.
people know he’s not the nicest person ( an asshole) yet they still look up to him. that’s angered you. how are all these people so dumb? just because he’s kinda good-looking? seriously?
over the course of a few weeks, you’ve managed to make some friends, your closest taehyun and Isa. although you tried to block the negativity, heeseung made it really hard. always giving you snarky comments when he saw you around, ridiculing you in front of other people. somehow always finding a way to run into you despite not having any classes together. except gym.
“ bro open your eyes, catch the damn ball!” he yelled from across from you.
you hated sports. even less could you play one, but you gotta do it for the grade.
“the ball was too high up dummy!” you retorted, rolling your eyes for maybe the 100th time in the class period.
if you hated gym before, you definitely hated it more now.
as the period ended, you decided to take a quick shower in the locker rooms since you couldn’t handle being all sweaty and gross throughout the day.
heeseung finished changing and was outside the locker room with his friends, chatting, waiting for the bell to ring. that’s when he may have accidentally eavesdropped the conversation between your two friends, he could barely the names of.
“where’s _____?” taehyun asked isa, noticing how you weren’t with her.
“she’s taking a shower right now, she told us to not wait for her.” Isa shrugged before taehyun nodded.
a beautiful idea popped in heeseung’s brain. it was too good.
he excused himself and sneakily waited by the girl’s locker room, waiting for everyone to come out. once he only heard the shower you were using running, he quietly entered the room. the bell had rang about a minute ago, so the gym was empty, only you and him. the gym teacher god knows where.
he saw his target and rapidly grabbed the pile of clothes sitting on the bench, a smirk evident in his face.
suddenly the shower stopped running, making heeseung hurry and exit the locker room.
the shower felt too good, you think you spent more time that you anticipated to. as you exited the shower tiles, you looked around for your clothes, which you remember clearly leaving them in the bench closest to the shower. you looked around the whole locker room, hoping you were wrong and placed them elsewhere. unfortunately, you couldn’t even find your damn socks.
your biggest fear has come true. you’re now naked, nothing but a towel covering you, this was more than just humiliating. you felt sad, mad, angry, embarrassed all at once. they’ve been stolen for sure, and you were more than sure on who did it.
grabbing your phone you called Isa, to see if she could help you somehow. and she indeed did. bringing you some spare clothes she had. thankfully, you always bring extra underwear since situations like these could happen. you just had to wait for isa for the clothes, yet the five minutes she took felt like five hours. unfortunately, passing period is over, meaning some students are coming in the locker room to change.
many of them just straight up stared at you. giving you weird looks as to why you were pretty much naked in the middle of the locker room, but none had the guts to ask you.
you wished the ground would just swallow you whole. lee heeseung won’t hear the end of it.
“LEE HEESEUNG!” you yelled across the field. he and his friends were siting down eating lunch outside when you spotted him after trying to find him after the stunt he just pulled.
heeseung knew it was coming, giggling with his friends as they heard you yell his name once again. “ oh she’s about to scold me now .” heeseung scoffed but still got up and went over to you.
“yes ma’am?” he said with a smile, you wish you could slap off but you’re better than that.
“YOU KNOW WHAT YOU DID DO YOU KNOW HOW EMBARRASSING THAT WAS?”
“i have no idea what you’re talking about..” heeseung tried acting innocent but failed as he just burst out laughing. you groaned, how on earth is that funny?
“cute panties by the way” he continued to laugh, not sparing a glance at your mad expression on your face.
“you’re such an ass, i hate your guts.” you said leaving him alone, laughing to himself.
“yo bro i think she actually got mad this time.” his friend, jake came over.
heeseung shrugged. “she’s so sensitive, it wasn’t even that bad.”
“i can’t believe he did that…” taehyun said as you told them both what had happened. Isa knew a little bit but not who did it.
“that’s fucked up, what’s he got against you so much?”
you shrugged. “i guess because i gave his car a little scratch, but i guess he took it to heart since he hasn’t stopped bothering me since. he’s a jerk.”
“finally someone who thinks the same as me!” taehyun said making you chuckle.
“then get back at him! you know the one thing that makes him who he is is that damn football.” Isa said.
you tried to be the bigger person this whole time, not paying much mind to his little remarks or pranks he pulls, biting back a little wouldn’t hurt right?
“you know what, you’re right.”
“lee heeseung, mrs. park wants to speak to you.” mr.jung said calling heeseung.
heeseung who was barely paying attention heard his name. his frowned at this. what on earth could she want to talk about with him? either way, he went to her classroom.
he entered the empty classroom to find his coach and mrs.park, waiting for him. what the fuck? heeseung was more confused now. maybe they were going to congratulate him for the good work this semester? his coach’s face said otherwise though.
“there you are, you may be wondering why you’re here..” mrs.park started. heeseung nodded, feeling uneasy.
“a student came forward, showing how you copied word for word her whole assignment, the one i assigned a week ago. i didn’t notice it at first but it’s very clear now, you may know how cheating is unacceptable in my class, i’ve decided to fail you in this assignment, plus you’ll be serving detention this whole week..” she turned to the coach.
heeseung’s heart started beating at a rapid pace, he’s never been caught cheating, and being failed on the assignment that was a big part of his grade, it means he’s most likely failing the class now. the rules for football stated that all players should be passing all of their classes if not, they’ll be dropped….
no no no, the lee heeseung can’t be dropped. he’s the captain! the star player!
“since you’re failing this class heeseung, i think you know what’s about to happe-“
“please coach! don’t kick me out, i’m the captain! what would the team do without me? i’ll get my grade up as soon as possible im-“
“calm down calm down, i’m not going to kick you out, it’s the middle of the season, but unfortunately you won’t be playing the next three games. if your grade is not up by then, then i will drop you. understood?” his coach stated earning a sharp nod by heeseung.
he’s glad he’s still on the team but what’s the point if he can’t play? he’s going to become a joke. the captain that’s a bench warmer. how stupid.
he left the classroom enraged. he knows exactly who did this.
“bro what? what do you mean you ain’t gonna play ?” riki said in disbelief at what his captain just said.
“some snitch told mrs.park that i cheated on the last assignment and coach suspended me for the next three games, and i got detention all week!” sunghoon unknowingly chuckled. heeseung looked at him with a glare.
“what? she got you good, what did you expect hee?” sunghoon kept laughing, making some of the others also laugh silently.
heeseung had nothing to say back, he just rolled his eyes. “tch, whatever.”
nevertheless, you were overjoyed seeing heeseung slouching on the bench. you couldn’t miss this once in a lifetime scenario. obviously you were the cause for it. heeseung asks Isa almost all the time for her notes or to straight up copy her. she willingly let you rat him out after what he did to you.
he can sense how all eyes were on him, but he just tried to block everyone out a focus on the game. he had a poker face on, but deep inside he was irritated . he saw how you were smirking and laughing with your two little friends. you knew what you were doing.
>>
“ahh look who it is, the benchwarmer! “ you said chuckling as you made your way to heeseung.
after the team (barely) won, jake threw an ‘after party’ at his house. even though you don’t normally go to these parties, especially from those boys, you felt like a party would do good with your marvellous mood. something about seeing heeseung’s frowny face made feel over the moon.
“seems like cat got your tongue now huh? dont have anything to say-“
in a blink of an eye you were pulled into a room, heeseung’s fingers wrapped around your neck, pulling your face closer to his.
“what the fuck? heeseung-“
“shut the fuck up.” his hoarse voice caught you off guard. he was actually really mad.
“you think what you did it’s fucking funny? huh? almost getting me kicked out ? “ you’ve never seen him this enraged before. making you almost scared, yet….kinda turned on? no, you hate him, snap out of it! you told yourself yet the wetness in between your legs became hard to ignore.
you didn’t respond. “fuck, you’re so annoying, i can’t fucking stand you. i hate you.” he saw lowly. fuck that was hot.
you spoke before thinking. “then show me.”
not needing to tell him twice, heeseung pulled you completely in. your lips met in a kiss that was anything but gentle, a fierce and consuming clash that spoke longing and raw need.
The kiss deepened, fueled by an unspoken urgency, their mouths exploring each other with a fervor that left y’all breathless. his grip on your neck becoming tighter.
“shit im gonna show you to fucking behave.” he said before pushing you into the bed forcefully. you may have discovered a new kink of yours. watching as he undressed himself and yourself rapidly. feeling his anger through every touch he gave you.
he rubbed through your folds before inserting two fingers aggressively. your body jolted at the sudden move.
“holy shit go softer dumbass.”
“aw you think i give a fuck? suck it up and take it since you think you’re all that.” his fingers pumped faster and faster making it hard for you to answer back to his stupid remarks.
“oh my god..” you tried to pull his hand away before you cum. not wanting to see you orgasm so easily yet.
“just fuck me already heeseung, or is your dick as tiny as your brain?”
heeseung looked darkly at you. that stupid mouth of yours can’t shut up will it?
he retracted his fingers put of you and took his boxers off. wanting nothing more than to prove you wrong.
shit. your eyes went wide at what stood in front of you. saying he was big was an understatement. it was like a zipper for your mouth. how was that thing going to fit inside of you?
“can’t say anything now, can you slut?” he pulled your legs down the mattress to have you at the perfect angle to ram into you.
heeseung ran his til over your folds, teasing his way in. making you aggrevated.
“just put it in for fucks sake!”
“tell me how bad you want it.” you shook your head, no way were you going to beg. no way.
“alright then, i guess im gonna go.” he said letting go of your waist, acting as if he was going to leave.
“okay okay! please fuck me, i want it so bad, i want your big cock so bad heeseung.” heeseung moaned at your words. he didn’t wait any longer and thrusted all of him in you.
you both moaned yet it was more painful for you. you’ve never had something so big inside you before.
“fuck yeah..” he said then grabbing your neck, slightly choking you. your hands went to his biceps, trying to find something to hold on to as the speed he was thrusting in became more hostile.
“fuck me harder, like the asshole you are.” you said in between breaths. heeseung took the challenge and thrusted violently. the skin slapping and wetness of your core could probably be heard in the party outside.
“of course a whore like you would like to be fucked like this.”
before you could respond he pulled out of you earning a desperate groan from you, but then your were flipped, now on all fours and before you knew it he was back in you again. gripping your hip with one hand while he pulled your hair on the other.
“such a tight pussy, you probably fantasized about this am i right?” he said in your ear. you shook your head through your moan.
“in your dreams lee, in your fucking dreams. fuck you.”
“i’m quite literally doing that.” chuckling, he let go of your hair and instead gripped your other hip, going in deeper, nudging your cervix literally driving you to an edge.
“fuck i’m cumming.” you cried out. never has an orgasm felt like this. heeseung was on edge as well, feeling you clench around his dick did it for him.
your climax rose over you, making you fall into the pillow while heeseung kept thrusting until his own organs came over him, pulling out and releasing his white ropes all over your back.
tiredly, he laid besides you in the strangers bed, not knowing what to say now.
you turned to him, smirking. “i think i may hate you even more now.”
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sh1-n0bu · 1 month
Text
♡︎ 𝙖 𝙨𝙥𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙠𝙡𝙚 𝙤𝙛 𝙢𝙖𝙜𝙞𝙘 ♡︎
characters: sub!gallagher x nb!dom!reader
warnings: usage of aphrodisiacs, exhibitionism, slight dumbification, thigh riding, dry humping, begging, cumming untouched, gallagher being an old man loser, just a mini drabble guys. nothing big (i say as i write down 1,7K words)
notes: @lufenianwol you knew exactly what you were doing when you sent me gallagher’s leaked idle animation didn’t you, you gayyyy🫵🏳️‍🌈 (im gay too😔)
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sigh…
another day, another long work of hunting down criminals or outlaws who came to penacony uninvited and detaining them. the most time gallagher could ever get to de-stress were behind the bars, mixing up a drink his customers asked for or when with you. you were a fellow bloodhound, a high ranking one too, so never had enough time to spend some quality time with your tired lover.
but today, you wanted to be a little mischievous. and what was that on your mind? you slipped just a teeny weeny bit of aphrodisiacs into his usual alcohol in his personal flask of course! just a little. maybe a pinch or two. a bit of a sprinkle of magic as a gift.
or maybe even a whole mini bottle. but you won’t say it until your tired lover comes crawling over to you, huffing and puffing, whining whimpering as he begs for your help at “restocking” some of the alcohol at the backrooms.
at the other end of the bar, you watch with a barely hidden smirk whenever your lover takes a sip from his personal flask during his break times. each time he does, getting more and more intoxicated in the taste. you purposely chose one that tasted delicious and soft on the tongue, a way to reward him for his hard work of running after criminals and preparing him for what was about to happen.
he started out strong, as expected of a bloodhound officer. barely felt it, focusing on work, wiping a glass or two, mixing up a drink. but the more he drank from his flask, the more you noticed it. the little stuttering over his words, the slight flush in his cheeks, the jumpy way he reacted whenever you passed by him with a hand on his waist or lower back. that bulge in his pants. that damn delicious bulge that you love to bully.
shaking your head, snapping yourself out of your thoughts, you focus back on work to wipe the bar clean and serve the customers drinks and desserts of their liking. you and gallaher were a good pair to serve amazing cocktails after all.
finally, the rush hour had ended, meaning fewer customers. the fewer there are, the more noticeable gallagher’s show of being affected by the little sprinkle of magic became. at first, he tried to play things off as signs of cold, or just the warm and low lighting of the bar being the reason his cheeks are pink. hell, he even coughed a few times to make his act believable. believable to the nosy customers but never to you.
“[n-name]…” the man barely manages to muffle his whimper when calling out your name, low lidded eyes, hazy vision and slightly shaky hand tugging on your necktie. you hum, turning to him with a raised brow as if you weren’t the reason behind this panting mess in front of you.
“yeah? what’s up?” you ask, putting down the bottle on where it’s supposed to be as your hands come to rest on his waist. the rush hour just ended, the bar still had a few customers but they were either too drunk to care nor engrossed in their own sob life stories to share you two a glance. and gallagher was damn glad for it too.
“w-we, ahem, need to head to the backrooms. we’re running out of some beers and fizzy drinks in the fridge” he quickly clears his throat, hoping that no one had caught onto his little stuttering. you did, of course. you would catch onto anything your lover says or does. even the tiniest things. such as how he was trying to make it seem like an innocent half-hug when you could feel his cock twitch in his pants as he pushes his crotch against yours, hoping to conceal it while also giving you a little heads-up.
as if you needed the heads-up.
“alright. you can go first, i’ll come after you once i wipe my hands” you nod your head, watching as your lover disappears behind the door with a sign that read “staff only”. it was cute how gallagher was so trusting of you, never even thought for a moment how you could have been the one to drug his flask of alcohol. though, judging from his cloudy eyes and stuttering, you could guess that he could barely even think to begin with. how adorable of him.
soon enough, you follow after the steps of your lover, walking into the “staff only” part of the bar and later onto the door with the sign “backrooms”. the pretty decent sized dark room where the bar keeps their ingredients and drinks. the same exact room where your lover pushes you against the wall the moment you entered, shaky hands fumbling with the buttons of your button down shirt as he humps his hardened cock against your crotch.
“woah woah, puppy. easy now. what’s going on? i thought we needed to restock on our drinks?” you ask, feigning innocence as your hands rest over gallagher’s shaky ones, stopping his fumbling and managing to catch his attention for a minute. he looked so dumbfounded. bottom lip on the brink of bleeding due to his chewing, panting, cheeks flushed a pretty red as his dilated eyes try to focus on you. you swore he looked like he was almost on the brink of crying with how damn pathetic he looked.
“c-can’t… [name], please, help me… ‘s so hot, tight. stupid pants mmngh!” gallagher only moans, tripping over his own words in a jumbled mess as he tries to find some sort of relief for his poor aching cock. looking down, you could briefly make out a dark small patch at the front of his pants. he was so drugged that he couldn’t even tell that he was staining his own clothes with his precum. so cute.
you only hum in response, not bothering to do as he pleads as your hands rest on the fat of his ass, massaging them gently. he only whines, slurred words of how he wanted your hands on his cock falling out as he squirms in your hold. lowering yourselves down to the floor of the room, you shift gallagher on top of you to ride your thigh instead. flexing the muscles in them to make it easier for him as he whimpers at the feeling.
immediately, the man started to hump your thigh. salacious mewls falling out of his lips as he doesn’t even try to silence his loud noises, only dumbly trying to relieve himself as he rubs his clothed cock on your thigh. you could see the dark patch in his pants getting bigger, darker the more he rides your thigh. if he had his dick out, he would probably leave a mess all over your clothes.
“shh shh, puppy. the door isn’t locked, remember?” you chuckle, reminding him of where the two of you were getting naughty at. it was so cute to see his eyes perk up at the sound of your voice. more specifically, whenever you called him puppy. he really did lived up to that nickname, looking like a cute pup as he bites down on his lip.
one of your hands travel up to his chest, opting to play with his perky nipple as he let out a loud squeal at that. his chest was always so sensitive, making him let out the most delicious whimpers each time you roll, pinch or tug at the hardened nub. being so mean to not slip your hands under the opening of his button down shirt at the front, playing with his nipples over the harsh fabrics of his clothes instead. he just wanted your touch on him to relieve the ache pooling in his belly, would you be so mean to deny him of his wishes?
apparently, you would. the hand on the soft fat of his ass moving to rest over his hip, helping him hump his cock on your thigh as your other hand continue their brutal assaults on his chest. poor gallagher, can't even form a single word as his pleads fall out of his swollen lips in a jumbled heap of mess. you could barely make out your own name from it. the words sounding so muddled up as if the bloodhound officer couldn't tell the difference between reality and his drug induced feelings.
"[n-naaammmeee]... sniff pleasheee fuunnghh fucck!! p-pleashh pleaash pleeaasshee♡︎!! ungh!! guuunnhg♥︎♥︎! p-pretty pleaaseee♡︎?" gallagher whines helplessly, stuffing his flushed face into the crook of your neck as his movements become more sloppy and frantic. he was so close to cumming already, it was just so cute to see how easily someone who is apparently always in control to crumble over with just a little bit of thigh riding. and some sprinkle of magic added to the mix.
in an attempt to muffle his loud moans and stuttering of his breath, he hastily lowers the collar of your own button down shirt just a little bit more. just enough so he could bite down over the old, healing bite mark of his so he could attempt to muffle his pathetic noises. you only coo out in a mocking tone, calling him by that nickname again as you tug on his nipple through his shirt as debouched cries of your name falls from his lips over and over like a mantra. gallagher sounded like one of those old, broken down radios that only replay a single song that sometimes is in the bar.
with a final thrust and a meek little bounce on your thigh, gallagher releases into his clothes. the magenta red hue of his pants turning a darker shade as his cum pools into the materials of his pants, staining it as some of the translucent liquid drips down onto your pants. you could just wash them out later.
"done with your little show, puppy?" you ask, the hand on his hip squeezing a bit to snap him out of his hazy mind. instead, you got a shake of his head, his stubble lightly tickling the skin of your neck in the process.
"wan' more... wan' you♥︎" he mumbles, delirious and drooling, as he humps his still hard cock against your crotch, indicating what he craved so desperately. maybe next time you should check the dosage you put into his drink if he's gonna be drugged this heavily by such a small amount.
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emmyrosee · 1 month
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So some idea for Sukuna fluff 🥺 like imagine you want to take a picture with him and at first he gets annoyed because he thinks this is stupid af and his grumpy ass just doesn’t understand stuff like this. But when he sees that you are like really upset he changes his mind and be like “come on brat, let’s do it” 😭 He still thinks it’s stupid but at least you are happy now 🥺 idkkk this thought just came to me, maybe you will use it one day, love your works 🫶🏻
“Kuna-baby!” You chirp, throwing yourself next to him on the couch. He flinched to the side to make room for you, and you curl into his side as you lift your phone up to fit you both in frame. “Smile!”
“For what?”
“My picture!”
“The fuck am I smiling for free for?” He scoffs, and you feel your heart stop for a sec and your smile falters slightly. “I smile for Ma and when kids fall. That’s it.”
“Not even for me?” You ask with a chuckle, but deep down, your heart hurts, and you hope this is just mindless teasing.
“You’re no exception to any of my rules,” he says flatly.
He means it.
You give him another chuckle and push off of him, letting him go back to his game and scrolling through your phone to try and combat the hurt in your soul at his harshness.
Apparently, the mood shift is too much for your boyfriend, and he paused his game again and moves his headphone from his ear, “what’s with you?”
“Nothing,” you lie.
He groans, “is this seriously making you upset? The fact I won’t take a stupid picture with you?”
“It’s not stupid,” you pout. “I just… wanted… a new wallpaper. For my phone…”
You practically feel his eyes roll back into his skull as you continue to scroll on your phone. Then, he wraps an arm around you, tucking you back into his side with your chin resting in the dip of his elbow, “don’t be like this, brat.”
“Im not being like anything.”
“Youre being a pouty brat.”
“Oh, am I?” you sigh.
“Fine,” he snips, resuming his game. “See if I care.” The room is shrouded in tenseness, practically suffocating for you both. You take a deep breath, understanding his discomfort but simply being told “no” would’ve been just as sufficient.
The game doesn’t last long, though, as apparently he’s discomforted in the silence too.
He takes a deep inhale through his nose and pauses again, pressing a kiss to your temple and using his hand to rub your cheek, “make it a good one. And I get to approve it before you make it your background.”
Immediately, you perk up, smiling softly and shifting to be in a more comfortable position, angling your phone to take a picture. He angles his head to bury his nose against the crown of your head, and his eyes close as he takes a relaxing breath of your scent. You’re quick to snap the picture secretly, admiring how blissful he looks merely relishing in your warmth. Then, he flashes you a close-mouthed smile, one wide enough where the dimple in his cheek is prominent, and when you snap that picture, his face falls.
“Hate that fuckin’ thing,” he grumbles.
“What thing?”
“The fucking divot in my cheek,” he says. “Makes me look like a kid.”
“Baby,” you coo, twisting your body to cup his cheek in your hand, “is that why you don’t like having your picture taken?”
He doesn’t answer, but he doesn’t have to. You know the answer. “I think it’s handsome,” you purr.
“I don’t care what you think.”
“Yes, you do,” you snicker. “Clearly. But that’s okay. Because I think you’re perfect.”
“I am perfect.” He presses another kiss to your head, “now shut up and let me play. Glad your ass is happy now.”
“I really am, sukuna. Thank you.”
“Don’t mention it. Ever again. Ever.”
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awearywritersworld · 4 months
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she mumbled that i was peculiar
sukuna x reader summary: impressively, sukuna is still trying to find ways to deny his feelings for you. nevertheless, he keeps you safe from harm when a late night trip to the store doesn't go as planned. will seeing his violent nature for yourself change the way you feel about him? he seems to think so. w/c: 4.2k (oops) tags/warnings: angst to fluff. attempted kidnapping. canon typical violence. depictions of blood. reader throws up. reader is in shock for a bit. cursing. aged up!yuuji. not canon compliant. fem!reader. no use of y/n. *please mind the warnings for this chapter* a/n: i'm sorry this took so long! im ngl, i struggled quite a bit to write this chapter. i'm still unsure about the pacing, but here it is anyway. thank you for reading and i hope you enjoy! series masterlist // masterlist
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it's not often that you go out for the evening, but tonight is one such occasion. you leave around seven, excited to meet nobara and maki for dinner.
when yuuji falls asleep a few hours later, sukuna doesn't take over right away. he spends a while in his domain, engaging in what some people might call sulking.
before long, however, he begins to feel restless and he tells himself it's because he's grown accustomed to his finite hours of freedom. of course, it has nothing to do with your absence.
so he assumes control of his vessel's body and pulls a short novel from your bookshelf. settling on the couch, his fingertips brush over the cover: the stranger by albert camus
it's the first time he's ever been alone in your apartment, a fact he's well aware of, and his eyes wander to the front door. it'd be all too easy to pull it open, to make his way downstairs and out onto the street.
how long would it last before yuuji regained control? are you nearby? would you get caught up in the havoc he'd doubtlessly wreak?
the thought makes him grimace. returning his focus to the book in his hands, time seems to pass by faster as he makes his way through the pages.
even so, he deems the narrative a bit boring. in his (what's the opposite of humble?) opinion, dead mothers and nagging girlfriends don't make for the most captivating story, so his mind begins to wander once he happens upon the quote:
"so why marry me, then?" she said. i explained to her that it didn't really matter and that if she wanted to, we could get married. besides, she was the one who was doing the asking and all i was saying was yes. then she pointed out that marriage was a serious thing. i said, "no." she stopped talking for a minute and looked at me without saying anything. then she spoke. she just wanted to know if i would have accepted the same proposal from another woman, with whom I was involved in the same way. i said, "sure." then she said she wondered if she loved me, and there was no way i could know about that. after another moment's silence, she mumbled that i was peculiar, that that was probably why she loved me but that one day i might disgust her for the same reason.
sukuna thinks about you— the woman who forced her way into his solitude.
although, what if it hadn't been you? what if the brat had been involved with another woman? would he have eventually taken an interest in her too?
are you really that special, or is he just going crazy inside the cage that is itadori yuuji? the latter is much more likely, right?
he supposes he prefers the idea of madness over... feelings for some human.
all of a sudden, your apartment door seems much more inviting. would it be so bad if he were to step through it? what did he really have to lose?
yeah, that's right. he'll get up any second now and act on every horrible impulse he's been repressing. any second now... any second...
he can't quite figure out why he's unable to bring his limbs to move, weighed down by some force that's beyond him.
it's at that moment the door clicks open and for a split second, he thinks it must be his sign to go, but then you come waltzing in.
"'kuna!" you greet in an excited manner, disrupting the peaceful quiet.
kicking off your shoes haphazardly, you make your way over to him and promptly drop yourself into his lap. it elicits a bout of unwelcome clarity for the king of curses.
no, he wouldn't have taken an interest in just anyone, that much becomes obvious. it wasn't through a medium as flawed as chance that he came to... tolerate you. you're much too annoying for that to be the case.
"hello???" you wave your hand in front of his face. "i'm home."
"i can see that."
"welcome home, darling," you say in a deep voice, a poor imitation of him. "i missed you so much— that's what you're supposed to say."
yeah, definitely too annoying.
"but i didn't miss you." one of his hands comes to rest on your thigh, a betrayal of his preceding assertion.
"you're sitting alone reading—" you pause to inspect the book lying open beside him. "existential fiction about a nihilistic frenchman. of course you missed me."
he changes the topic rather swiftly. "you're drunk."
"i'm tipsy, at best." you roll your eyes. "can't i just be happy to see you?"
"you'd be the first."
"i don't mind making history."
you place a kiss on his lips, casual and affectionate in way that makes sukuna's body stiffen, and stand up.
"i need to get ready for bed, then we're gonna watch tv together because i missed you— gosh, see how easy that was?"
you run off to the bathroom and his body doesn't fully relax until he hears the shower turn on.
the thought of missing someone is a strange notion to him, because it implies eagerness and desire. for as long as he cares to remember, those emotions have been reserved for proclivities much more sinister.
so he hadn't missed you. he just would have preferred it if you stayed home. that's all.
when you return to the living room around fifteen minutes later, you're wearing one of yuuji's shirts, and as far as sukuna can tell, very little otherwise.
making yourself comfortable on the floor between his legs, you pass a hair tie behind you. "can you braid my hair?"
he's watched you get ready for bed enough times that he's fairly certain he can manage it. taking the tie from you, he still asks "why can't you do it?"
"because i'm sleepy," you frown, reaching for the tv remote.
gathering your hair in his hands and carefully dividing it into sections, he sighs. "you require so much looking after."
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"you're not going to die if you can't have cookies tonight." sukuna states dryly, glancing at the clock that reads eleven o'clock.
"please don't trivialize my struggle," you begin, pulling on your jacket. "i want miso butter cookies— my grandma's secret recipe."
most of what you need can be found in the kitchen, but a trip to the store is in order for a few final ingredients.
"my mistake," he huffs, rising to his feet. "how insensitive of me."
"oh, it's alright. just don't let it happen again."
"sure. i'll keep that in mind, princess." sliding the apartment door's chain lock off the track, he does little to hide the vexation in his tone.
just as he reaches for the handle, you stop him and wrap a scarf around his neck, forcing a hoodie into his hands. "put this on. you'll be cold."
he looks at you as if you're crazy. "i don't have to worry about things as insignificant as the weather."
"well, put it on anyway," you insist.
he decides that acquiescing will be easier than arguing for the next five minutes and slips the hoodie over head. when you both step out into the chilly air of night, there are still a decent number of people traveling the streets.
stopping at a crosswalk the next block over, you begin to prattle on about what you need to pick up and the different steps in your recipe. naturally, you completely miss it when the pedestrian sign turns green.
"come on," sukuna commands, his hand wrapping around your wrist and tugging you along with him. "i don't have all night."
you scoff. "to be fair, i didn't say you had to come with me."
"yeah well it's late. you shouldn't be out alone." there's a hint of exasperation in his voice, like he truly had no choice in the matter.
despite that, once you reach the other side of the street, his fingers slide down your palm and thread through yours.
you glance over at him and find he's looking off to the side, so you bite your lip to suppress your pleased smile. is he avoiding your gaze intentionally? you decide that bashfulness suits him better than you would have expected.
offering him a light squeeze of the hand, you hope it conveys your appreciation of his small display of affection.
"so, are you going to help me make the cookies?"
his lips press into a thin line. "as thrilling as that seems, i don't particularly have a penchant for baking."
"you think you'd humor me a little! you know, since i'm your only friend and all."
"if anyone else asked me such a ridiculous question, they wouldn't live to see tomorrow." you ponder whether he's joking and quickly decide that he isn't. "this is me humoring you."
"you're so mean to me."
"hardly."
"fine," you pout. "then you can't have any!"
"now, hold on." the threat does make him hesitate. you've come to learn that if there's one thing he loves as much as reading, it's food. "let's not be hasty."
you're approaching the store, the sliding doors just a few strides away.
"it's only fair! besides, you're not going to die if you can't have cookies," you throw his earlier words in his face.
he exhales deeply. "have i ever told you how irritating you are?"
"woah! now you're definitely not getting any, mister!"
"alright, alright," he groans as you step inside. "i'll help you bake your stupid cookies."
"perfect!" you exclaim as if you knew he'd give in eventually (you did). "then you can start by finding the miso paste while i get everything else!"
you scamper off before he can tell you not to order him around like some common servant. he's never even been grocery shopping, how the hell is he supposed to find anything in here?
wandering the aisles, he stews over how domestic this is. for god's sake— the king of curses, shopping for ingredients and making baked goods. what have you reduced him to?
just as he considers giving up, he spots the item he's looking for and grabs it so aggressively that it knocks a few packets of instant miso soup to the floor. wrinkling his nose in distaste for the entire experience, he sets off looking for you, though his efforts are to no avail.
he wonders where the hell you could have gone off to when a flickering light catches his eye, filling him with a strange sort of unease.
it's emanating from a narrow hallway tucked away in the back corner of the store. at the very edge of the hall, a phone with a familiar case is lying on the floor, the screen shattered.
his blood runs cold, a sensation that is fully unknown to him, and the miso paste slips from his fingers. he appears in the hallway the very next second and the sight that greets him ignites a furious hostility in the center of his being— heavy and consuming.
you're struggling against one man as he drags you out of the backdoor and into an alley. another man is holding the door open, urging his partner to hurry up.
the hand over your mouth keeps you from yelling, but you're unsure you would have been able to make a sound regardless.
one second you're cast into darkness, and the next, the light seems blinding. the flashing is unceasing and it makes your head hurt.
two limbs are wrapped around your torso, keeping you firmly in place, and your arms are trapped at your sides. you might be kicking your legs, but they may just be dragging along too. you really can't be sure.
there's a thrum of a heartbeat at your back. it's pace is unforgiving, the intensity mirroring that of your own. you've a vague concern that your heart may very well beat right out of your chest.
then there's an abrupt shift in the air and a sickening crack echoes through out the night. crumpling onto the concrete, you think it must have started raining before you realize that the droplets on your face are warm.
you wipe at your cheek and your fingers stain crimson, the color matching that of an increasingly large puddle seeping across the pavement beside you.
there's a heap lying a few feet away and you recognize that it's wearing clothes. it's a sight you struggle to make sense of.
needing to focus on something else, your eyes find sukuna and the expression he's wearing is fierce and unreserved. "tell me what you wanted with her."
you've never heard him speak in such a way. his tone is low, his cadence nothing short of threatening.
"s-s'kuna?" your own voice sounds foreign to you and it goes unheard by him.
he has your attacker pressed against the brick wall of the alley, both hands wrapped around his throat. he's too livid to realize the pressure on his windpipe is preventing him from answering.
sukuna throws him to the other side of the alleyway out of frustration, the man rolling onto his back and wheezing to appease his lungs.
"tell me!" sukuna commands again, louder this time. less collected.
the man scrambles away from his looming figure. "th-they sent us, told us they needed her for an important matter."
"who?"
"they'll kill me if i tell you—"
sukuna crouches down, laughing dryly. "and what do you suppose i'm going to do?"
his eyes are almost unrecognizable to you. they're frenzied— a few shades deeper than the scarlet you've grown so fond of.
"you'll k-kill me either way, so at least i'll die with honor—"
"tch. useless." sukuna waves his hand, and you can hardly comprehend what happens right in front of you.
neat red lines appear across the man's body, then it ruptures into nothing at all. the only evidence that he was ever there in the first place is his blood.
the stench of which is perhaps the worst part— intense, coppery, and hot. it makes your eyes water, and before you know it, you're hunched over and emptying the contents of your stomach onto the ground.
sukuna is at your side in an instant, pulling your hair away from your face, but while one of your hands is braced against the concrete, the other endeavors to push him away.
his body doesn't budge at the contact, but he takes a step back anyway in an attempt to respect your wishes.
your mind is a mess filled with racing thoughts— what the fuck? this cannot be happening. what the hell even happened in this first place? that man was there and then he wasn't.
inhaling sharply, you wipe at your mouth and shift to pull your knees to your chest.
"what..." you trail off, surveying the unutterable, incomprehensible scene before you. "what did you do?"
he doesn't respond, though his features noticeably soften. somewhere in the back of your mind, you know very well what he did, but you can't help repeating. "what did you do?"
"we need to leave." it's not that sukuna couldn't handle whoever might show up, but seeing as this is your reaction, he has no desire to. "if you let me touch you, i can take us home."
you take a moment to think about it, then nod wordlessly. as soon as his hand falls on your shoulder, you're met with that same sensation you felt the night gojo teleported you and yuuji home after one too many drinks.
though this time, the sick feeling in your stomach isn't caused by liquor. you don't stand up, you don't so much as move a muscle when you feel the surface beneath you shift from concrete to carpet.
sukuna breathes out your name, his uncertainty evidenced by the way he's shoved his hands into his pockets. meeting his eye, you reiterate the same inquiry once more. "what did you do?"
it's almost as if you want him to tell you that he didn't do anything. that the whole experience was some disturbing nightmare.
"those men would have hurt you."
"that doesn't mean they deserved to die." you choke on the final word.
"yes— it does."
with that, silence hangs in the air like a suffocating miasma.
looking to your hands, you're reminded of the blood you've been spattered with. "i need to wash up."
you still don't move from your spot, too fixated on your flesh and the dreadful hue that it's been painted with. sukuna notices now that you're trembling.
he approaches you hesitantly before extending his hand. "let me help you."
you decline his offer, shying away from him. "i think you've done enough already."
god, the look in your eye is utterly despondent. he struggles to swallow the lump that forms in his throat.
his arm falls limply to his side and he looks across the room, your copy of the stranger earning his attention.
he's overcome with chagrin when he realizes that his concern brought about by camus' quote the other night was wholly misguided. he'd been focused on his own feelings, whether they were genuine or simply wrought by his isolation.
how foolish was he to ever question what you truly mean to him? with the anguish that's settled in his chest at the sight of your current state, the fact he ever doubted it makes him feel like a hopeless idiot.
had he any sense at all, the part that resonated with him would have been—
she mumbled that i was peculiar, that that was probably why she loved me but that one day i might disgust her for the same reason.
disgust. is that what you're feeling now? he's certain it is.
it was just last week that he relayed the story of his past. you're the only person alive to know the truth of how his wickedness came to be, and you met him with unconditional sympathy and understanding.
you pulled him close and embraced him, but now that you've seen him for what he truly is...? you can barely stand to touch him and it's like a knife to his heart.
you're so fucking warm— like the sun against his skin after weeks of endless rain.
and if you're the sun, surely he is the moon— cold and barren on his own, but brilliant when in the presence of your light.
to be without that? to be without you? it's a prospect too terrible for him to bear. it makes his stomach twist miserably.
you're startled (as is he) when his form falls to the floor, his knees meeting the carpet with a dull thud. he calls out your name again, but this time, his voice cracks as he speaks. "please."
he doesn't have a clue what he's even asking for. a chance to explain? forgiveness? a way to turn back time?
you don't say anything, but you do shift your gaze to him. he knows that he needs to fix this, so he wracks his mind for the right words.
"i didn't enjoy killing those men." he's somewhat surprised to find he's telling the truth.
"you didn't?" your voice is so small and timid that he can hardly decipher your words.
"no. my only concern was to keep you safe— to make sure they never put their hands on you ever again. all i felt was rage and... and... guilt. i should have never left you alone and it's my fault—"
"stop," you interrupt him.
there are tears welling in your eyes, making it difficult for sukuna to breathe. he's positive you're going to tell him that his intentions were of little consequence and that you never want to see him ever again.
instead, you push yourself forward and collapse against his body, your own wracked with violent sobs. the reality of the situation is only just now hitting you. it'd been much easier to focus on what sukuna had done, rather than what almost happened to you.
"i was so scared, 'kuna."
and still, despite the way you're clinging to his shirt and burying your face in chest, he's under the impression that it's him you were afraid of.
"i'm sorry," he tells you earnestly. "i never meant to frighten you."
"n-not of you. those men." you're struggling to speak in between desperate gasps. "why did they do that? what did they want with me?"
"i don't know." though, he is going to find out.
sukuna is not a man well versed in comfort, so he's not entirely sure why he begins rocking you back and forth, but he does it anyway.
when you finally start to breathe a little easier, he mumbles into your hair, "come on. let's get you cleaned up."
he doesn't give you a chance to respond before he scoops you up in his arms and carries you to the bathroom. setting you down on the counter gently, he searches the linen closet for a cloth.
it's quiet, save for your intermittent sniffling, as he runs it under warm water and wrings it out. his free hand moves to rest against the side of your neck and he dabs at the blood on your face, rinsing the washcloth every now and then.
he tries his best not to show it, but sukuna is agonizing over what might be going through your mind.
do you still feel safe with him? have your feelings changed? do you still love him, even when you've been so harshly reminded what he's capable of?
when you speak for the first time your words are hoarse, barely above a whisper. "thank you for saving me, sukuna."
he thinks about telling you not to thank him, not when it shouldn't have happened in the first place. he left your side, an error in judgement he'll never forgive himself for.
he considers your mortality— your weakness— in relation to his feelings for you. he's always seen this exceptionally human quality as despicable.
but now? all it does is terrify him.
"in the past, i was only concerned with my own whims and desires." his hand moves to cradle your face, his thumb running over your cheekbone. "though after tonight... you have to know..."
it's clear that he's struggling. his eyebrows draw together and his mouth twitches as he ponders his next words.
"i care about you, angel." his voice is hushed when he adds, "very much."
your eyes widen briefly and you murmur his name, but your mind is still reeling from the events of the past twenty minutes and you can't think of anything more to say. you're emotionally exhausted in a way you would have never thought possible.
it's plain to him too, so he knows his next question is selfish, but he can't go on without knowing. "does what you saw tonight change things between us?"
the silence preceding your answer seems to stretch on forever.
"i thought it would," you confess eventually. it was as if you'd put up a wall in your mind separating sukuna the king of curses from sukuna the man you spend your evenings with.
and it's difficult to reconcile the fact that the hands you saw used to murder two men are the same hands that are caressing your face so delicately.
at some point, however, you realized that the only time you felt fear tonight was when you were without him. his arrival and ensuing actions inspired shock and apprehension, though in some twisted way, you knew it meant you were safe. "but it doesn't."
the next question tumbles from your lips thoughtlessly. "does that make me a bad person?"
he chuckles and some of the tension in the room dissipates. "i think i'm the last one on earth that can pass moral judgement on you."
he tucks your hair behind your ear and scans your face, relief coursing through his body when he sees you smile. in this moment, there isn't anything else in the world he would have asked for.
"i guess you're right."
and now, the hand over your mouth is your own, an attempt to stifle your tired giggles. the light of the bathroom is warm and steady. sukuna's hands rest atop your hips, his touch firm but comforting. while you can't feel your own heartbeat, you're positive it must be beating in time with his.
when you crawl into bed that night sukuna pulls you close, your back pressed to his bare chest. you're thankful for the softness of his demeanor, because you need it tonight more than ever.
he doesn't recede to his domain until yuuji wakes up the following morning. he's determined to keep an eye on you as you sleep, to watch the slow rise and fall of your chest with newfound gratitude.
he knows he needs to speak with the brat about what happened. someone is after you and while he hates to admit it, he knows he can't ensure your safety alone.
and he will keep you safe, no matter the cost.
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