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#the sheer levels of ATTITUDE
tinwhistlings · 4 months
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Did some Hobbit rewatching and have been in a very Thranduil mood lately.
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honestlyvan · 1 year
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(Reposted from DW)
So I try not to make these rambles too powered by salt but considering Impactor is very near my favourite character in the franchise and as a result I read a lot of badfic featuring him out of sheer desperation for something, I'm seriously devastated by the way I've never seen it explored just what a harrowing and accurate description of moral injury and reflexive self-loathing he is.
Like, it's wild to me that we have it in the text, actually on page, that Impactor outright thinks he's a monster. We see it on page! It is written with plain words! He's stuck thinking like "can't survive if the other guy doesn't die", "your life is bought with the blood you spill, and you want to keep living so you best learn to like killing" to the point where he doesn't even want to live anymore and yet he can't stop, he's stuck, there's no safety for him to retreat back to because nobody taught him to value himself in any other way except in balance against someone else.
Like we know. Exactly what Impactor considers horrible, what he considers ugly and unseemly and corrupt. And it's all stuff that makes sense. It's all stuff the most of us probably find a little bit horrifying. We know that his perception of the world is so utterly bleak that there is no way but down, the only trajectory he sees for himself is to slip further and further from that surface because this is just his life now, this is what he is now, this may be what he always was, so isolated in his self-loathing that he can barely see the surface of where the horrible things end, and sure as hell doesn't think he can reach it. He's been cut off from his access to the sublime, to the fortifying, to the beautiful and wonderful and safe, this is all he has left, this is just what he is now.
I think the massive overriding misreading is assuming Impactor has any regard for himself. He may have the ability to act confident and move through the world with intellectual assurance over his own skill, and it's easy to take that as a sign that he has some kind of a core, undivided wholeness of personhood that lets him keep acting like he knows what he's doing. But I don't think that's it at all. His sense of self has been so completely fractured and damaged by the horrors he's committed and been isolated with that they've attached themselves to the space where his sense of self would otherwise be. Again, I'm not even extrapolating -- this just is the text of "Escape".
And then there's the negative influence of Guzzle, another person who thinks the way to deal with your trauma is by committing massive violence on it who has no idea this should maybe be something to discuss with people -- like, we see the way his abandon and reveling in having power and returning the violence drags Impactor down, too, because it's familiar, it makes sense, and then Impactor locks him in a box and goes "I can't fucking do this anymore". It's literally the most unsubtle death wish, it's a textbook flight arrest response, he doesn't want to keep doing the thing he's doing but he doesn't know what else there is, he sees no way out other than down.
And IDK I don't want to cast blame, honestly as a recovering abusive asshole myself, the terrible things he does to other people out of a sense of "this is how it has to be, don't be naive, don't be stupid", the loop of self-justification and grasping for value in his identity as an anonymous source of violence and ruiner of lives is a big part of why I love him so much, and his victims are really visible in the text, their mess deserves exploration and their pain deserves narrative validation, if only for completeness' sake
but like goddamn I just feel for this trash mech so much. He was left locked up with only his own bad thoughts for company, forced in a situation where becoming a worse person was the only way to escape further pain to the point where he's just completely cut off from his access to the sublime, to the fortifying, to the beautiful and wonderful and safe. Like where is there to go when the only things you know what to do are all fucked up? What do you do when all you've been "taught" is that living means killing, but you're getting extremely sick of the killing, when you're tired of your whole life being stained in blood and gore and the traces of the grotesquerie that is living with the knowledge that having power over other people is the ultimate act of survival when you never wanted that?
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Mini rant but please tell me why I have just seen someone legitimately say it doesn’t matter if university students use ai to write their essays
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yumistr · 5 months
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𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐄𝐀𝐊 𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐎 𝐂𝐋𝐀𝐒𝐒 𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐄𝐖𝐄𝐃.
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୨୧ : 𝗿𝘆𝗼𝗺𝗲𝗻 𝘀𝘂𝗸𝘂𝗻𝗮 𝓍𝓍 𝘧𝘦𝘮!𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋 . ࣪⊹ ݁ ˖
" her whole world comes crumbling down when his friends mess around with her test , the girl returning the favor of messing up their faces as a thank you. "
𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘁𝘀.⠀⠀afab!reader. use of she/her pronouns. references to WHC1 kdrama. virgin!reader. violence. gore mentions. major injuries. wound aiding. crying. corruption. dry humping. exhibitionism. cunnilingus. dacryphilia. manhandling. fingering. spanking. pussy slapping. choking. begging. praise. pet names (brat, princess, good girl, pretty). marking. gagging. ⟡ : 𝘄𝗰.⠀10.2k. ⠀ 🏷️ : @screampied @dollicries @marimogf
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⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀𑄽𑄺ྀ
“you drive me fuckin’ crazy.”
MONDAY⠀|⠀11:35 AM
ᡴꪫ⠀"𝓢o, what’d ya get, hm?" comparing scores was always something you seemed to rather enjoy. at least with the man who was the only other student in your university that was on-par with your sheer intelligence.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀his intimidating and leering glare would scare off anyone else on campus, anyone else but you. you weren’t afraid of him like the others were. sure, he was almost seven feet tall and had the figure of a professional bodybuilder, yet he was still as much of a nerd as you were. his delinquent personality and aggressive behaviors were nothing compared to his raw intellect that he tried oh so dearly to shield beneath his broad chest. it didnt take a genius to see right through his pathetic attempts at acting; that genius being you.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀however, you knew all too well that he’d pummel your face in if you ever even dared to mention it, so your lips were sealed tighter than a noose.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀"hop off, will ya? y’re such a drag, brat," the man groaned in response, pushing aside the paper you shoved into his face all the while he removed his textbook from atop his own test.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀your face had never dropped faster in your life. you were in utter disbelief as your delicate fingers snatched his test up, bringing the white sheet so close to your face the words were going to jump right out at you.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀"a hundred and one?!?! are you kidding me?!!” scoffed and irritated, you tossed his paper back in his face, Sukuna shooting a demeaning grin at you in return.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀baffled would be an entire understatement of how you felt. and that goddamn pearly white smile he bore into your figure was not any better. he loved the attitude drop you contorted anytime you were once again let down and reminded of who the actual top student was, no matter how much you tried to overcome him. he’d always be one step ahead of you, even if you stayed up for an entire week studying as if it were a religion; he could sleep and not attend class, and would still manage to one up you.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀it drove you mad. he drove you mad.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀"puñeta cabrón. tu puta madre, ay dío!" ( damn bastard. you mother fucker, oh my )
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀Sukuna loved nothing more than making you mad, solely because he had a guilty pleasure for seeing how your eyes narrowed down at him. how you’d have that singular vein prodding the side of your head like a stray wire. how you’d huff at him without a single thing to respond with aside from your usually spanish curses, something he could listen to on repeat. even if the only time you ever talked to him you got annoyed, at least your attention was on him and not one of the other low life guys who were no good for you, let alone even on your skill level.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀the man would never have the balls to admit it. not when your ego was already your entire personality and you knew how everyone wanted you, though your interest was more involved in the small text boxes that littered your school books.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀chuckles rumbled from the core of his chest, low eyes following your figure (your ass) as you swiftly pivoted your heels in the direction of Aoi Todo’s desk. the sight nicked Sukuna’s nerves, his jaw clenching with nothing but pure irritation whirling within his crimson eyes. exasperated scoffs we’re the only thing he could utter, lightly shaking his head and gazing out the classroom window at an attempt to calm himself down.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀the already tightly-fitted fabric of his uniform only grew dense with every rigid breath he took. with how harsh he was breathing through his nose, he could start a damn fire. though, he’d never admit to being the possessive type. he could barely see how he was already obsessed with you, denying every factual thought he had about it. he was hardheaded. stubborn. irritably headstrong, of course. not over his dead body would he openly confess his dark desires.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀it was absolutely no help at all that you were also a virgin. everyone knew, as weird as it sounded. well, none of them had the guts to ask you to confirm, but with how deep your nose was in a text book twenty-four-seven, it wouldn’t take much effort to come to the conclusion.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀just the thought of Sukuna’s dick being the one to pop that sweet cherry of yours, oh how he’d kill to do so. call him a pervert, he could care less, he just wanted a taste. even if it was just for a second. god, what he’d do for it. it’d definitely be a change from the women who threw themselves at him daily, the man unable to genuinely get off to their screeching sounds as he rammed them senseless.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀though, your back was turned to him as you sat diligently atop your desk with your fangirls friends surrounding you, all he could think about were his devilish desires. the ones he only had for you even though you were supposed to be his rival. arch nemesis. whatever the fuck those corny rom-com movies call two academic rivals. if he wanted, he could easily give up and let you be the top student, but that’d mean he wouldn’t be able to hear the sweet utterance of your voice every morning, or the satisfying sounds of your heels clicking down towards his desk after each test.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀"hey, class prez, ya forgot this in the gym," an annoyingly high-pitched voice broke Sukuna from his dazed trance on you, cold eyes averting to the blue-haired idiot he called a friend that had approached you with your tumbler.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀a soft gasped slipped beneath your plump lips, legs uncrossing whilst you lowered yourself onto the polished floor and gently grabbing your belonging from his grasp. two arms snaked his shoulders and a sudden plush force was pressed against his own chest. to say he tensed up, he’d be lying. he froze entirely, unsure what had happened within the millisecond he took to blink.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀right before Sukuna’s eyes, you had clung yourself to Mahito, of all goddamn people. your heels were lifted from the ground as your ass could almost be visibly seen from beneath the school’s uniform skirt. oh how he’d give anything to rip Mahito from your grasp and replace it. the sight was nauseating, Mahito’s hands traveling dangerously low on your back, rimming the edges of your skirt.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀Mahito could feel Sukuna burning gaze searing holes through his body, a tethering fire brewing in the pits of his stomach the longer you strayed on his body.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀"heh, i-it was no problem, really." he coughed up after a tender “thank you” was brought from your mouth.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀with a soft shove and maneuver, Mahito had slipped from your touch and cautiously made his way to the back of the class. if looks could kill, he’d have been buried the moment your arms even grazed his school blazer.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀"hah, you’re one ballsy motherfucker," Haruta’s sly words had more than one meaning to them, and Mahito knew what he was provoking at. Shooting the idiotic blonde a narrowed gaze, Mahito smacked his hand behind his head, a ‘tch’ sound weaving its way into his threat for Haruta to shut up.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀"fuck r’ya talkin’ about?" Sukuna chimed into the pairs altercation, Mahito slumping himself into his seat that was situated in the row next to Sukuna, a seat behind Haruta. Suspicions were high, and the blue-haired fucker was definitely on Sukuna’s list. he didn’t like not one thing about his attitude, or tone of voice.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀"it’s nothin’, don’t worry about it. he’s just talking out of his fucking ass,” gritting his teeth through the last few words, Mahito flicked the back of Haruta’s head, the blonde yet again wincing at his self-inflicted injuries.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀with one last glance at the two, Sukuna scoffed and rolled his eyes prior to reverting back at you. whatever they did, not like he cared as long as it didn’t involve you. it couldn’t be that bad anyways.
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⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀your favorite part of exam-taking was checking your answers afterwards. the satisfaction that settled within your body anytime they called out the correct choice, and you got it right, it was a sort of a euphoric endurance. you already knew that you’d get it right, you always did, but the reassurance was something you lived for.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀however, this time was far from being the same.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀besides the fact you could feel your eyes growing droopier and droopier the longer the exam went on, you also could barely feel your fingers as they grazed the tethered fabric of the test papers. each time you tried to wash away the suffocating apprehension with a nice sip from your tumbler, your body only felt worse, reluctantly obliging to the state it craved dearly.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀even after slapping some sense into yourself, causing nothing but a scene in the midst of a serious exam, you still couldn’t ward off the irritable feeling that flowed through your bloodstream.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀"five .. three .." the answers repeated in your head like a nursery rhyme, your clouded mind trying to find out where you went wrong. how you could slip up so deliberately like a damn idiot in a circus act.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀nothing made sense. none of it. at all.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀you studied relentlessly. skipped meals. drowned yourself in energy drinks. kept your bed cold and empty for days on end, just so you could retain all and every last bit of information that you needed to pass the exam. you used your best notebooks, best recommended supplies to better aid your studies. and somehow, in some godawful way, you still missed them.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀your teeth ricocheted off one another, jaw clenched so tight it could slice through fine print. indents were clawing themself through the flesh of your palms, nails delving deeply into your skin that cut off all blood circulation in them.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀'cabrona.' you thought,
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀'cabrona. cabrona. cabrona.' repetition was the only thing traveling through the veins in your brain, aside from the evident self-hatred.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀the sound of a fellow classmates tumbler being set on the ground brought you out of your daze, eyelashes fluttering heavily as you peered up at yours. a sort of lightbulb almost going off the moment you landed on your own. with glassy eyes and numb fingertips; your quivering hand reached for the container, in utter disbelief at what could possibly be inside.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀'no .. ellos no tendrían ..’ ( no .. they wouldn’t have .. )
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀though, the sounds of minimal laughter lingering from the back of the class sent chills spiraling down your back, dispersing through your body the minute it hit your core. white walls were the only thing in mind, a ringing sensation zipping through your ears whilst the realization alas set it. boys will be boys, teachers would say.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀but, to hell with that shit.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀before you could even have a chance to decipher who did what, or what substance was exactly coursing your veins, your legs had already dragged you down the row of desks behind you. your vision was still a bit of a blur, much like it was during the exam. however, this time you knew exactly what you were doing. well, at least your body did.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀it knew exactly where it was leading you to. the precise actions that were to follow, and how you’d deal with the matter at hand. even with your head in a bunch, it was clear.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀the tumbler that calmly rested in your grasp skimmed the edge of your skirt as you walked, head hung low with trembling murmurs slipping past your lips. you couldn’t believe their audacity. they weren’t even your friends yet thought some mediocre prank would slide by so smoothly.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀"h-heh. it was just a small amount, prez-" before Haruta even had time to give you some lousy excuse, the end of your tumbler was pummeling it’s way into his jaw; face smashing into the desk below him. the deeper you drove it into his flesh, the more crackling that followed behind. those same noises you craved to hear from his body. you wanted every last inch of him cracking under your touch.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀"o-oh, shit!" Mahito was able to blurt out as the back of your opposite fist hammered straight into his nose, his chair rocking backwards before he went soaring to the ground, fumbling into the lockers that remained against the back wall.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀you had no time for negotiations. you needed for them to feel how it felt to have spent so much time and effort into studying, just for a bunch of nobodies to throw it all away because they have nothing better to do with their pathetic lives. their lives may not depend on it, and they may have no future. but you sure as hell did.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀stalking towards the blue-haired freak, you watched as his body recoiled along the polished floor, rugged coughs and exaggerated groans dripping from the tip of his tongue. your own heaves were entwined into his noises, teeth senselessly hitting against one another every passing moment. he could barely kneel down and regain himself when you curled your wrist at him suddenly, the side of your tumbler snapping his head as it slammed into his cheek. yet, he still had no time to react as his head fell straight into the open grasp of your free hand, grabbing the roots of his hair with a life-threatening grip.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀reeling your arm back and officially dropping your bottle to the ground, your hand held onto the top of the lockers, thumb curling the edge to get a solid hold. you sent the man’s face right into the metal containers, repeatedly reeling him away and slamming him right back in.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀over, and over again. one after another, his face continued to scrape the material, sense of awareness getting lost in the overbearing ringing noise that clogged his eardrums. after the fifth hit, he could no longer keep track of how many times you slammed his face into the locker door.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀the blood that now drenched his uniform would surely be the least of his problems with how many gashes and broken bones littered his facial structure. trickles of the crimson liquid trailed down his flesh, some seeping into the depths of his other open wounds while others dropped onto the roughened fabric of his uniform pants.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀you would’ve done more. you wanted to do more. but fate had other plans when a pair of large arms wrapped around you, lifting you off the ground you once stood proudly on. flailing in the air, you were able to shake them off for merely a second, swiping your foot along the floor before it made contact with Mahito’s face, getting that last hit in just as you were tossed over someone’s shoulders and lifted highly off the ground.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀being face to face with their backside, you hadn’t a clue who it was or where you were going, just that you wanted to kick their ass just as much for interrupting your much needed plans. your arms were stuck to your sides with theirs curled over your lower back, rendering you unable to move whatsoever. you could barely move your legs with how much blood flow traveled to your head, let alone the drugs that were already seeping into every inch of your being.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀once they’d made it into the nurses office who was seemingly on her hour lunch break, the door slammed behind the two of you whilst they alas set you down. though, their large rough hands never left your figure as you continued to struggle out of their grasp.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀"k-kill him .. i’m gonna .. i’m .. f-fucking — i’m .. kill .. kill-"
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀"L/N Y/N." harsh and abrupt, the man that stood before you pulled you from your senselessness. Sukuna shaking you a bit to get you off whatever mindless train you were riding. if he was being honest, you definitely startled him. it may have been just a slither, but it was surely turning some gears in his head.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀"tch, jesus christ you crazy brat, what the hell?!" he exasperated, finally letting you go.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀your eyes wandered the room, encapsulating the area that surrounded you all the while you tried to configure yourself. gashes and blood splatters likewise tattered your hands, your mind far too lost in the adrenaline to realize you also fucked yourself up in the midst of beating them.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀"i just- i- i- they- i ju-" "open." he demanded in a monotone voice, calloused hand already grasping the back of your neck as he brought a water bottle to your mouth. before you could even protest, he was already pressing the edge of it into your lips with the liquids traveling down your throat against your will. not that it wasn’t for the greater good, just that it caught you off guard by a long shot.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀he watched tediously as a vague yelp muffled beneath your lips, trembling hands pathetically attempting to push him away before you had any idea of what he was doing. though, you stopped the minute it processed.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀"y’re fuckin’ psychotic, y’know that?" he scoffed, draining out the water into your mouth before he let you go. all you could do was obediently swallow, coughs scratching at your once dry throat with your body tumbled over and a hand resting along the wall beside you.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀"ow, fuck!" you hissed in irritation, covering the wounds on your hands as the high you once rode on finally settled down, causing all injuries to hit you like a damn truck. you couldn’t even feel how deep the gashes were prior, but as the tingling sensations set in, that’s all you felt.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀turning to you, Sukuna sighed at your idiocy despite being the top student in their school. he reached for your forearm, disregarding all cries and pleas you threw at him before sitting you atop the nurses bed. you didn’t want him touching your wounds, let alone fixing them with how much they hurt.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀"don’t start cryin’ alright? i don’t need to hear that shit," Sukuna groaned, bringing over a first aid kit from one of the tables. you attempted to protest his care, not wanting to feel alcohol being poured onto your fresh wounds, but he could care less. he didn’t need to see you struggling for the next few days just because you were too much of a pussy to clean them right away.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀however, what he was not expecting and entirely unready for, was for your pleas to sound like moans. his entire body tensed the minute your gentle hand pressed against his large bicep, whimpers tumbling from your lips. all he did was rub his thumb over the open gashes so he could measure the gauze, and your minuscule sounds had his heart dropping to his stomach.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀"S-Suku — fuck, wait," you protested, the mere graze of his thumb already sending needles to shoot all through your arm.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀he tried his best to ignore it. to push away any and all vile thoughts that dared to resurface his mind now that he finally knew what you could possibly sound in bed. he didn’t want to think of such things at the moment. for crying out loud, he was staring at blood and bones.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀for the next few minutes as he tended to your wounds, all he could do was tune you out. he wasn’t surprised that you didn’t know the difference between whining and moaning, you’ve probably never even had to moan before.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀your cheeks were scooped into his rough grasp before you knew it, his face barely centimeters from yours as his harsh and ragged breathing fanned your nose. the close proximity was eating him alive, your widened doe-eyes meeting his leering gaze that was fixated on nothing but you.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀"stop .. stop making those damn sounds," he demanded more like a plea, unable to bring himself to genuinely be mean to you, but also desperate for you to stop before it sent him into utter madness.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀you obliged with a small nod, swallowing the lump in your throat while he returned back to covering your hand in medical wraps. this time, you just softly hummed to yourself, trying to maintain your noises that you guessed were too annoying for him that he wanted you to shut up. and the last thing you wanted to do was annoy the man who quite literally had your arm in a chokehold just so you wouldn’t pull away.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀yet, on the last tug he gave your wrapped hand, a tender sound escaped your trembling lips that had Sukuna’s teeth grinding together. he could feel his core brewing a small fire, heat trailing it’s way up his throat by the second. he had a fucking boner.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀"fucking hell .." he muttered through clenched teeth, pushing your hand aside and locking himself in the bathroom across the room.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀you had no time to apologize, or even stop him before the door slammed in your face, your words getting caught in your throat. the guilt slowly ate away at you whilst you stood opposite to the bathroom door, attempting to muster up some form of apology to Sukuna who was evidently pissed off at you for not listening to a simple fucking task.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀"Su — Sukuna, i’m really sorry for annoying you. i didn’t mean to. i just — i don’t have the best pain tolerance and,—" oh how you were so painfully, pathetically fucking oblivious.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀you were far off from annoying him. you turned him on for christ sake. his pants grew tight around the growing erection he had, trying so desperately to think of anything else but you just so it’d go away. even thinking about all the other girls who thought they were suitable to ever be his girlfriend, he just needed something that wasn’t your voice booming in his head.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀yet, the more you talked, the worse it got.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀there was no way that he’d be able to get rid of it with you being right outside that door. the same door you were trying to speak through to apologize for something you didn’t even do.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀and, somehow, in some deranged and crazy fast way, you ended up in the bathroom with him, being pressed firmly against the door. you had absolutely no time to think whilst his arm snaked through the small opening he made and swiftly dragged you in, a tiny yelp hiccuping from your throat.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀the tension that settled was intoxicating. almost clear to the human eye. his head was lowered in the crevice of your neck with his hands sternly planted on the door along either side of your head. his coarse breaths danced along the flesh of your neck, goosebumps decorating your skin as you attempted to grasp what had happened. you had no idea what was going on, let alone what was pulsating between his legs. your cluelessness would indefinitely be the death of Sukuna, a crumpled sigh falling off his tongue.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀"Suku-"
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀"can i kiss you?" four simple words. four simple fucking words, they were the same ones you would’ve never guessed your literal rival would utter in your presence, let alone to you. was he out of his mind? what he going through a mental episode? maybe he also took a sip from your tumbler and was riding some sort of high as well. there’s no possible way he was serious.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀and yet, you still said yes. somehow, your brain that only ever saw him as the guy you wanted to beat. the guy who you would do anything just to have the hierarchy and be able to say you beat him in something. anything. you still found yourself crumbling beneath him much like you always did. falling victim to him once more, however this time it was your own fault. you obediently said yes without a second thought. without thinking how it’d look if the girl who only ever raved about beating the infamous Sukuna Itadori, succumbed to his berating charm and was another one of his girls of the week.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀you were utterly disgusted with yourself. but oh how sweet he tasted. his plump lips were immediately attached to your own with his large hands savagely coating your biceps, your hands rendering against his solid chest that rose with each passionate movement he made along your mouth.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀you were tall for a woman, standing perfectly at 5’7. though, compared to Sukuna’s 6’7, you were merely a mouse to a lion. his ginormous figure towered over you in every aspect, broad chest cornering you against the door with his head trapping you beneath him.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀he tasted like sweet cinnamon bark chipping onto lavender flowers, each petal melting against your tastebuds every time his tongue skimmed the tissue of yours. it was eradicating. every sense you thought you once had was entirely overwhelmed by him and his aroma, suffocating the oxygen you desperately craved for in between sloppy kisses.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀how could you let your first kiss be stripped from you by the man you swore you hated. the man that took every chance he got at provoking and taunting you with his intelligence. who got off to seeing your anger rise each time you glanced at his scored test papers. unbeknownst to the fact he only ever did such things so you’d look at him, let alone acknowledge his presence.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀despite wanting to push him off you and yell at him for thinking he could toy with you like some whore on the street, all you could really do was pathetically melt under his deathly grip. your lips subconsciously synced with his all the while you miserably pawed at his chest, slender digits attempting to undo the buttons that barricaded his immense chest.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀"impatient, r’ya, princess?" you mewled at how easily the nickname slipped from his tongue, as if he weren’t just calling you a brat for god knows how long.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀his words murmured against your lips, deep-husked voice littering your once smooth skin in nothing but even more goosebumps. the assertion gave you room to breathe alas, whimpered heaves exasperating from your quivering-swollen lips. he watched in utter delight at how heated he could feel you were, how your chest rose just as much as his did with your glossy eyes barely being able to make contact with his hunger-filled ones.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀you were twenty-one for crying out loud, and this is how you reacted to your first kiss? oh, was he ecstatic to see just how much you were going to crumble on his dick.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀"fuckk .." he groaned out heavily at the sight that displayed before him, aggressive hands reaching for your buttoned-uniform shirt and ripping it apart, practically tearing the seams that sealed your body away from his demeaning gaze. the action broke you from your train of thought, eyes shooting up at his with your hands failing to cover the sweet treats you hid from everyone with that embarrassingly tight uniform top.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀"tch, don’t hide from me, brat." he scoffed out, grabbing your gentle wrists and using one hand to pin them above your head, back straightening from the unexpected position he forced upon you.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀you didn’t have the guts to face him, not when you were completely vulnerable in front of him. your breasts that fought at the seams of your pink laced bra was the first thing that his eyes wandered to, seeing exactly how large they were and how small that damn coverage was. how could you possibly be so stupid to buy a size smaller than what you were?
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀snapping your head to the side, you closed your eyes with trembling breaths dripping from your sore lips. anyone could see just how much lust fueled Sukuna’s crimson gaze as he admired you. saliva pooled his sealed mouth, tongue dragging across the skim of his lips with his teeth chewing the inside of his gums. he just wanted to ravage every inch of your body, tainting your beautiful skin in his bite marks so everyone and their fucking mother that attended this godforsaken campus would know who exactly took you first. who adulterated your gorgeous figure and molded that soaking cunt to shape his dick, and his alone.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀"can .. can i touch you?" a small head nod followed swiftly after, not a single thought behind your actions, just pure, raw ardor.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀his movements were tender and sweet, at first. but once his large palm grasped the entirety of one of your breasts, he kneaded it with nothing but genuine hunger. his lips attacked yours once more, synchronizing his actions as you puttered soft moans into his mouth, the man swallowing them each time his tongue explored your walls.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀the way his thick digits seeped into the flesh of your breast was unlike anything you’ve ever been able to fondle on yourself. he was skilled, obviously; his hand gripping you with the perfect amount of aggression that had you squirming under his touch. it only got worse when his fingertips trapped your nipple between his pads, rolling the two over one another to create the perfect amount of friction that he needed from you.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀"p—please .. oh-shit, please .. just fuck me, Suku—" the way your beautifully doe-glossed eyes peered up at him had the man ready to risk everything. ready to bend you over that damn sink and fuck the daylights out of you, so the only sensible, coherent thing you’d be able to utter was “fuck me, Sukuna”.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀"be a good girl and be patient, i wanna explore every crevice of this fucking body of yours," he hushed you up with ease, showering you in kitten kisses that trailed all the way down your neck, his lips latching onto your skin once he made contact with your throat.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀with your bra now tossed onto the floor, chest entirely exposed for Sukuna’s deranged eyes, his calloused hand traveled down your body. over the ridges of your waist line and through the folds of your skirt. the lower he went, the higher your breath hitched in the depths of your throat, shaky heaves fanning his ear. he gently shushed you, his fingers now dancing along the fiery skin of your thigh. you knew you were soaked down there. he knew you were soaked down there. just from how tediously your legs trembled the moment he touched them, it was as clear as day. you weren’t hiding it, especially when you tried clamping your thighs closed the moment his nails even grazed your flesh.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀"don’t hide, princess. s’okay, i promise to be gentle," he cooed in your ear, hissing at his finger looping around the drenched fabric of your underwear. the textured surface drove him crazy, how you were already sopping with him merely just touching you. it was pathetic, but god how he loved it so much.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀he loved how it was him that caused such a reaction from you. how just the thought of him, and his touch against your perfect skin had you already creaming your underwear. it’s exactly what he wanted. for you to only give such a reaction created by him and no one else. just thinking about some other loser being in his place enraged him to the fullest. he couldn’t imagine anyone else taking your firsts, let alone stuffing your tight hole with their dick that probably wasn’t even close to being the same size as his.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀the moment his fingers slipped between your folds, you were an entire mess all over again. whimpering moans and squeamish behaviors were the only reaction you could give, Sukuna peering down at you and enjoying every second of it. he teased and taunted your clit with each glide he passed through your slit, his nose grazing your own as tears now coaxed your entire face. the sight had his back muscles tensing, dick throbbing in his pants as he toyed with you more. if this is how you reacted to simply being touched, oh he really couldn’t wait.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀it took every fiber of his being to restrain himself against you, knowing that you’ve never had sex, let alone been played with so he couldn’t do anything without hurting you in the process. and, that’s the exact opposite of what his intentions were. he wanted you creaming on his dick, not screaming.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀sputtered cries and grasps at nothing but air were sent Sukuna’s way the second he slipped his fingers in your clenched cunt. fuck, just his two digits alone, you were squeezing the life out of them.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀"shh shh, jus’ relax. y’re too tense, gonna hurt yourself clenching so hard" he soothed, littering your neck in even more tender-lined pecks as his grip on your wrists above your head only tightened. all the while you listen so obediently, Sukuna continued to gradually push his fingers inside you. you tried your best to relax, as he said, not wanting it to hurt when all he was trying to do was please you.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀yet, even when relaxed, you were still so fucking tight it turned his mind completely white.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀"juss’ like that. good girl," he fanned against your ear, kissing beneath it right as he slowly began to thrust his fingers in and out. gasped moans traveled out of your mouth every time his digits scraped your walls so delicately, hips subconsciously bucking in the midst of him trying to get you used to having something shoved up there.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀you were already a babbled disaster beneath him, legs trembling dearly as Sukuna contained every urge had had to quicken his pace. he knew you weren’t ready, but you just kept on. you continuously bucked your hips against his hand, as if you wanted him to go faster, to roughen the tender pace he had on you. he wanted to go gentle, something he wasn’t entirely fond of, though he knew you were inexperienced and didn’t want to scare or even hurt you from how he could get.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀but you had other plans in mind. because the best thing that the man was even able to coherently understand amidst all the blabbering nothings you muttered was a vague “h-harder”. he knew you were crazy, just from the events that led to this, it was obvious. but he was not expecting you to be this batshit insane.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀"Suku— fuckk .. please, please .. fuck me—"
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀"shit .. you fuckin’ psycho brat," grumbling beneath his breath, the man listened to your deranged nonsense, quickening his once delicate pace.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀with his lips latched onto your own, he muffled all and every moan you had to offer once his pace roughened. squelches and wet noises could be heard all throughout the bathroom as he abused your desperate cunt, legs growing numb as the sudden action. the only way you were able to even stand up still was from his hand that pressed your wrists onto the door. you were rendered utterly silent, eyes rolling so far back you caught a glimpse of the pearly gates.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀the back of your head slumped against the door, much like your melted figure that seeped into Sukuna’s grasp. his fingers grew used to the feeling of your gummy walls suffocating them the more he pumped your cunt, your first orgasm coating the entirety of his hand already. it was small so it didn’t hit you as hard, but the fact that he continued to thrust his fingers through your climax is what sent you into madness. you were slowly losing yourself the more he led you into your second orgasm. something you’ve never done before.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀because yeah, any normal girl would touch herself and make herself cum, but it was rare that they continued after the first orgasm. and, you happened to be one of the few who could never lead yourself to a second, always far too sensitive after the first.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀cries squealed through your once sealed lips, his persistence to make you cum as much as possible causing you to break your silence. however, even with your poetic noises clogging his senses, his pace never once faltered. rather, it increased and was already leading you to your second orgasm, legs now visibly twitching and unable to hold your body up anymore.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀right before you could officially release onto his hand once more, he dropped everything and lowered himself to his knees, catching your juiced on his tongue that slipped easily through your folds. his lips hooked onto your clit the moment he did so, arms curling over your thighs so you sat along his shoulders. within a blink of an eye you were spilling all over his tongue with your pleading hands kneading at his pink hair, cries of mercy tumbling from your lips all the while. though, even then, your actions were rendered useless as he proceeded to use his mouth to edge a third orgasm from your beaten body.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀"S—Suku .. please! I-I can’t, I can’t .. wait, wait-" you sobbed through heavy tears, the man far too lost in the goal of making you cum to even begin to listen to your wails.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀he had nothing to say in response, using his mouth to get his point across that he didn’t care. that he was going to make you coat every aspect of him in your juices. you couldn’t help but think if this is how he was with all the other women he hooked up with daily. if he was so stubborn to make them cum as much as he was you.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀and, to proudly answer that, he’d honestly admit that no, he most definitely did not. he could barely tolerate their voices, let alone the taste of them. he simply fucked them, nothing more nothing less. that’s all they wanted him for anyways, so why would he waste his time doing more for people he could care less about?
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀but you? oh, you were an entirely different case.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀with you, he wanted all of it. he wanted to feel just how tight you were. just how sweet you tasted. to caress every inch of your ass, and body. to milk you dry, even. he wanted to devour you and leave you so high off his touch that even when alone in your dorm you’d probably touch yourself simply thinking about this interaction you had with him. he wanted to leave you craving for him as much as he craved for you. to have you feeling just how much of a mess you made him without even trying.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀his tongue did wonders against your aching hole, lapping your juices against his tastebuds before soaking up every last droplet that tainted your inner thighs. taking advantage of his position, the man made sure to leave his teeth marks engraved into your skin, his palms firmly pressing against your lower abdomen to stop you from squirming so much. he did love how his actions earned such a reaction, but he didn’t want you hurting yourself from too much carelessness. at least not anymore than you already have.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀sobs and disheveled breaths hiccuped from your throat, hazed eyes slowly losing yourself to all the intensity that was thrown at you in less than ten minutes. you didn’t know how much longer you could go, but you definitely didn’t want him stopping anytime soon. it all felt so fucking good, it left your mind unable to do anything but cloud with nothingness.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀the tingling commotion that left your legs completely numb had traveled it’s way up to your arms, fingers barely able to rake through his curls without twitching every few seconds. your words had become entirely slurred, vaguely incoherent with each word you puttered through your heavy lips.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀Sukuna was enthralled by every passing second he spent between your legs, marking his territory almost with how he repeatedly stabbed your flesh with his sharp teeth. you had no recollection or feeling in your legs to be able to stop him, allowing the man to claim you as his own as if he wasn’t just blabbering on about how annoying you were the day prior. the duality would not only just kill a victorian child, but also slaughter an entire bloodline.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀"shit, y’taste so fuckin’ good," he groaned into your core, the deep rumbles that bore from his chest vibrating against your bundle of nerves and earning yet another sweet sweet moan from you. the kind he longed for. yearned, even.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀he slurped up your slick liquids as if he’d been deprived of food for months, maybe even years. which, to some extent, he has. he’s been lusting over you since your freshman year. not a day had gone by where he wasn’t thinking about you, every inch of your body, and your beauty.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀in such little time, you had become his primary thought bubble. he hadn’t a clue how it happened, nor why. but, now that he alas was shoved between your legs and able to taste just how savory you were, he definitely wasn’t complaining.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀Sukuna egged on your third orgasm, not letting a single drop leave his mouth as he sucked and tethered at your clit. it surely was a struggle to contain your trembling legs, the man resorting to standing back up and placing both of his coarse hands along your ass. the sudden action caught you off guard completely, body almost slipping to the floor if he didn’t hoist your aching legs around his torso. though, his movement forced an abrupt sob to drip out of you, his rock hard erection pressing firmly along your cunt.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀"o-oh, fuckk .." was blurted from his own mouth at the endurance, not realizing his own actions until your juices were coating the fabric directly over his dick. his hands remain gripping the soft flush of your ass, fingers delving in the longer he held you there.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀you were sure to cream on the spot from how much force was pushed onto you, your back practically molding into the wooden door behind you. Sukuna couldn’t think properly, not in this state at least. all his mind could focus on was how he felt your heartbeat through your cunt that was resting diligently atop his pulsing erection. it was so prominent, so distinct, as if your heart was right there. he couldn’t move, not when his throbbing tip was already leaking with precum. he needed you and he needed you now.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀"Sukuna—"
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀"please .. just—just one .. one second, fuck" he groaned against the flesh of your ear, your arms gripping the seams of his collar as he pushed his head in the crevice of your neck.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀he wanted to just take a breather before he did anything rash, but his body evidently had other things in mind.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀his hips grinded against yours without warning for either of you. hoarse mewls stammered from each of your mouths due to the friction of the rough material rubbing your sensitive areas just right. it felt wrong. you felt dirty. like you weren’t supposed to be doing such vile things along the fabric of your school attire, but it just felt so fucking good, you couldn’t possibly stop now.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀and you didn’t.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀Sukuna continued to curl his hips at yours, loving how his trousers tightened around his dick just enough for it to feel like he was inside of you. and you, you embraced it just as much. you wanted him inside you so bad. even if he was probably far to big to be your first. you didn’t give a fuck. you wanted him and if he was allowed to taste you and edge you to three fucking orgasms, then he would have no choice but to fuck you by the end of this.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀his nails created indents in your ass from how harsh he gripped your body, his palms practically the size of each cheek he caressed dearly. though, you didn’t care, he’d already tainted the rest of your body so your ass was no difference. not like anyone would see it anyways, no one but him.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀despite not having a single ounce of strength left in you, you were able to use a slither of it to pull his face to yours, trapping his lips and syncing your sloppy kisses to his thrusts. once Sukuna caught onto your naughty actions, he quickened his pace, knowing that if he went faster than he’d be able to hear your beautiful noises once again.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀and, that’s exactly what happened. you were halted mid-kiss by an unexpected whimper that ricocheted your throat. it was filled with nothing more than genuine cries, head tossing back against the door whilst your lustrous eyes lazily gazed up at the ceiling above. the once harsh grip you had along his collar had faltered almost immediately. it was humorous to Sukuna how easily you succumbed to his touch against every part of your body. he fucking loved it.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀your legs had alas uncrossed from around his waist, the only thing holding you now being his black painted nails that molded your ass to his hand sizes. with each curl against your freshly exposed cunt, Sukuna hissed in delight all the while you choked up broken moans. the synchronization was soothing, chills creeping up his spine from how brisk you felt.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀before he could get carried away, the man allowed you to release yet another orgasm on him, massaging your thighs through your high. he could tell how worn out you were, it was written all over your damn face. you were a virgin and already on your fourth orgasm during your first sexual interaction.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀"p—please .. Suku- please .. just fuck me already," heaved through chopped, aching breaths, you raked your nails down his severely toned abs that could probably crush a watermelon.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀that was his cue. the simple words that he was almost begging you to utter once more just so he’d be able to finally follow through with your repeated pleas.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀hoisting your legs around his waist once more, he led you out of the bathroom finally, after thirty damn minutes. one hand remained in the dip of your lower back whilst his other was scooped beneath your ass, being slowly coating in your slick liquids that dripped from your exposed pussy. though, he surely didn’t mind. he transferred your quivering body back onto the nurses bed he once used to tend your injuries, continuing to knead your tensed thighs so they’d simmer down.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀"ya sure ‘bout this, pretty? i don’t wanna hurt you," he reassured for the last time, pad of hjs thumb swiping your fleshed cheek that was hotter than the sun on a mid-summer day. all you did was gaze up at him through the thick of your lashes, doe eyes enticing his entire existence.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀you didn’t care how he did it, you just wanted his dick stuffing you so good that you’d forget every test answer you ever embedded into your thick skull. as crazy as it sounded. you probably seemed so pathetic for thinking such a thing, but when a woman has gone twenty-one years without ever being touched so sensually, and she finally gets a taste of it crashed into her like a semi-truck, of course she’s going to sound deranged.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀you didn’t even answer him, your hands immediately latching to his pants as you began unbuckling his belt. you fumbled with it a bit, Sukuna allowing a low, deviated chuckle to rumble along his chest whilst he moved your hands aside to do it himself. your eagerness was humorous, the man getting a kick out of it as he stripped his lower body to nothing but raw nudity. his pants pooled at the rim of his ankles, black boxers laying softly atop them. to say you were stun-ridden would indefinitely be a damn understatement as you tried to fully grasp his size.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀sure, you’ve seen some poorly executed porno’s with guys who had long dicks. some even had thicker ones that weren’t as long, but their girth and how they stretched the girl out made up for it inevitably.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀however, never once have you seen one that was not only long, but also broad. his tip alone rendered you into utter silence, the white ropes of precum decorating his reddened head. though, what had chills dancing along your spine was the sight of how he extended to his belly button, and his base only got thicker the lower down your eyes traveled. arrogant and humored, the man taunted you with a snarky expression;
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀"careful now, y’might catch flies, princess," his thumb gliding across the skim of your bottom lip after he layered it in his seed. he gently slipped it through your agaped mouth, softly closing your lips around his knuckle with his opposite hand slowly pushing you against the flat of the bed.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀you couldn’t even process the fact that he made you taste his cum from how awe-struck his size left you. let alone him spreading your legs open and watching as your lower abdomen trembled in between each shaky breathe. what did break you from your daze was when a slap was sent to your wide-open cunt that was on full display for him, your back arching off the bed with tethered cries mewling out all the while.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀you couldn’t even close you legs to stop him, his stern grip pinning one of them to the bed with his waist stopping your other from moving. all you could do was try and reach your hands to cover yourself, but he took that as an initiative to grip your wrists with both of his overly large hands. gazing down at your sweets, he aligned his base with your clit, his dick laying atop your stomach so he could measure just how deep he’d be hitting you. now you were completely rendered defenseless, his grasp on your wrists never once faltering.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀once he was satisfied with the results, he tossed one of your wrists into his opposite hand while adjusting his tip between your deathly sopping folds. oh how he wanted to bottom out in you at this very instant, the urge eating away every second that painfully passed by. he couldn’t. not yet, at least. you weren’t ready and he didn’t want to ruin anything after spending all that time getting you ready.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀after grabbing your wrist again, he, very slowly and tediously gently, started sinking himself through your walls. each time you made any sort of high pitched noise he stopped, trailing circles with his thumbs against your abdomen; feeling just how much your body quivered. your mind drew blanks, vision going in and out from how much he stretched you out with his tip alone. it was euphoric, ecstatic even. you’ve never (willingly) taken drugs, but this is how you imagined the feeling people described when they were riding cloud nine.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀your unhinged jaw hung open desperately, toes curling with each vein he gradually dragged so rigidly along your delicious gummy walls. you had no ounce of energy to cry out. whimper, let alone moan. all you could do was let him continue to shape your cunt, to mold you into the perfect cocksleeve for him and him alone. it was something you were never expecting, but surely weren’t protesting now that he wore your body out so deliberately.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀he was trying his best to be as cautious as he could, fighting every senseless urge that pulled at his strings the deeper he sunk into you. it was so fucking tiring, especially when your desperate cunt kept sucking him in deeper each passing moment.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀yet, when it was all said and done, and his tip was practically kissing your womb, his shoulders alas settled with a groaned sigh following close behind. now that he finally got what he wanted, what he’d been impatiently waiting for since your first year, he hadn’t a clue what to do. he was so used to the women taking over and fucking themselves on him, already used to his size and using it how they saw fit. he never in his wildest dreams would’ve thought he’d finally be able to get at you, let alone be so painfully deep inside you that it rendered him, the great Sukuna Itadori, silent.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀if there were a day for miracles, it’d surely be today.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀"holy- .. shit. fuckin’ hell, Y/N .." how he uttered your name in that oh so needy tone drove you crazy, clenching around him and causing Sukuna to immediately tighten his grasp on your wrists.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀all he raved about was how you sounded, but jesus fucking christ did he sound so goddamn sexy saying yours in that teasingly needy voice that he tried so hard to make scornful. his girth pulsed in the depths of your cunt, his rugged and torn heaves being forced through his nostrils whilst he attempted to collect his jumbled thoughts.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀he led your wrists back up to your head, his earth shattering grip still cutting all blood circulation from them. sturdily planting the back of your hands to the mattress below, along either side of your head, Sukuna brought his own to the slithered opening of your neck, fanning his fragile breaths against your goosebump-covered neck.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀slow and steady, agonizingly cautious, the man began rocking his hips into your own. each stroke, every whimpered moan, all of it had Sukuna’s mind seeing stars. the moon. possibly the entire fucking galaxy with how completely undone he became. his head continued to knead into your shoulder, puttered lips whispered sweet nothings against your tattered skin that he decorated so rigidly. it hurt, your entire body could feel that fact all too well. you knew it’d hurt, just weren’t expecting how much though. with how your friends described their first times, you were expecting a paper cut, not to be ran over three times. your core was burning implacably, inner thighs so ungodly sore that you weren’t sure how you’d have the energy to walk once he was done with you.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀however, with each tender word he cooed in your ear, you slowly melted beneath his touch, seeping into the mattress and feeling every last vein that scraped your walls so vigorously. you could barely open your eyes for that matter, gaze entirely fixated on the ceiling lights that hung above, thick lashes coating your droused vision.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀the pain that once surged your every thought had simmered into nothing but euphoric rapture, tears glossing your [E/C] eyes so tenderly. your hands were grasping at straws, unable to get a hold on anything, let alone move with how Sukuna buried them into the surface.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀slow sex was definitely not on Sukuna’s bucket list for the year, let alone sex with you. and he was unsure how to feel about it. because yes, it had the pleasure dispersing to every inch of his sole being, but it also fueled his desire to ultimately ram your cunt broken. the endurance only caused his back muscles to tear at the seams of his uniform, solid chest pressing into your own as he suppressed any vulgar thoughts.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀it were as if the gods above had heard his yearning, his unspoken pleas that lingered his mind. because the next coherent word he could make out from your lips was a small “faster .. please-" that sputtered out.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀it was at lightning speed that he swiftly hovered himself above, capturing the perfect display of your sprawled upper body beneath him. his hands pawed at your biceps and curled around them with a hefty grip. he wanted to steady himself before he hurt you in any possible way, already a bit uneased by his careless decision of going in raw.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀you had no time to react, no time to possibly even grasp the fact that he had released your wrists from his death grip. not before he was plunging his swollen tip at the entrance of your womb, repeatedly with harsh grunts weaved into each movement. that’s when you saw stars. that was when you could no longer speak properly, let alone even think about anything other than listening to the sounds of your own pussy squelching and squeaking every time he bottomed out and his balls slapped against your ass. your mouth moved in an attempt to speak, but no words, let alone noises, were to be heard. you were like a broken wind up toy; moving without sound.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀"fuck .. y’re so goddamn tight, pretty," Sukuna groaned out desperately, a scoff finding its way into his words that overlapped the boisterous noises your cunt shouted out.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀your hazed eyes were now drenched in tears, hiccups slipping past your lips after each thrust he shoved down your walls. your skirt rode up your ass, exposing it to the sticky material you laid upon. both of your bodies were covered in sweat from head to toe, though the adrenaline had you thinking you were as dry as a baby. it was a crazed mixture of feelings, yet they all had you more deluded than a fangirl.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀no matter how much you relaxed, how many times you soothed your walls, you still clenched him so perfectly he swore he was going to cum already. which, he definitely was. his entire focus was fixated on trying not to decorate your walls. not yet, at least. he wanted to cum with you on your fifth high, his quick pace easily leading you to it thoroughly.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀the silence that once washed over your entire body had been forcefully broken when he decided curled his hips at just that right angle that hit a spot so deep, so so fucking sweet, it had you crying out for him to continue. your nails grazed at the skin of his wrists, moans proclaiming his aggressive moves. mewled cries exerting your quavering lips, encouraging his robust actions that only increased with every whimper you threw at him.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀each time Sukuna slid himself through your aching cervix, he watched his bulge poke through your abdomen, pleased with the fact that no one else could do such things to you but him. that even if such an interaction with him were to awaken a side of you, and you ended up with another guy, he’d never be able to leave his dick print on you like Sukuna did. he was comfortable in his size, much of an arrogant high school cheerleader.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀the man obliged by every last plea you threw at him, subconsciously leading both of you to your destined climaxes. he wanted to hit his high with you, and if he continued his actions thoroughly, he’d get what he craved so desperately for.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀"S—Suku, fuckk— i-i’m gonna come .. please!"
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀you had no idea how much of an impact you had on the disheveled man. he never planned on being such a known fuckboy on campus, but when you were too painfully fucking clueless to his advances when school first started, he accepted his fate and used his body to drown himself in the sorrows. he didn’t know how your relationship would be after today, but what he did know was that it sure as hell wouldn’t be the last time he was balls deep in your throbbing pussy.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀"s-shit .. ya takin’ me so well, princess," he yearned, gruffs tumbling out after his breathless assertion.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀"this is mine, ya understand? .. don’ wanna see no other guy near you. not even my. shitty. little. brother," with each exasperated word he huffed out, he made sure to hit you so hard, so fucking deep, that you understood every damn syllable of his demand.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀"Y-Yes, yes! please, .. oh— fuck! yes, o-ok. ok!" sobs and down right hysteria blurted from your crumbling lips, cunt aching pathetically as he abused ever last inch of it. Sukuna made sure he molded you like the perfect little sculpture you were, shaping you to suit him with raw ease. emphasis on the raw.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀with one last full length thrust, you both had equally hit the highs you practically clawed each other for. the climax that had your entire body twitching from head to toe whilst your eyes struggled to stay open. his thick, crystalline seed painted your walls so white it’d seem like a brand new room. it was so much, so fucking much, that he had pent up for so long he couldn’t possibly stop himself even if he wanted to.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀his hands that had now engraved his grip into the flesh of your biceps traveled down to your thighs, kneading them through your high so you weren’t so timid. it definitely did help, prattled breaths dripping from your tongue through the entirety of it. his were likewise weaved into yours, his chest riding every so often all the while he watched how your mixed juices spilled from your pussy, trickling in a pool along the edge of the mattress.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀with a lazy huff and pulling himself from inside you, the man slowly reached down to you and scooped your back into his grasp; uttering a vague "c’mon, pretty, lets get you cleaned up,"
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ “wanna fill you up s’fuckin’ much, pretty,”
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© 𝐘𝓤𝐌𝓘𝐒𝐓𝐑 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐃𝐔𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟑⠀𝜗ϱ⠀mature discretion advised. all rights reserved. do not plagiarize or steal works.
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renku · 2 months
Text
Catering Demand and Need
Loossemble Yeojin x Male Reader
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“Yeojin, what are you doing down there?”
“Nothing, oppa... You took so long to get here,” Yeojin playfully twirls her hair while still exposing her thighs out, “I’m kinda lonely here without my unnies...”
“Now’s not the time, Yeojin.”
Yeojin pouted and climbed on the couch, slouching to show her disappointment.
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What am I going to do with her? This old, repititive question is almost a million dollar question in Mathematics that the most brilliant minds in the world try to solve. But Yeonjin is on another level. Try with all might and sheer will, it’s always her—Yeojin always, always wins.
Letting a sigh as a sign of defeat before sitting beside her, Yeojin knew that it’ll happen no matter what—she will prevail.
“Baby girl?” soft yet manly tone, a maintained balance of persuasion and dominance. Yeojin must know she’s the one in need, and the one that needs to earn it.
No answer. As expected. Yeojin’s habit of putting the act for a bit longer serves as her trump card. Just to get this over with, let Yeojin have it her way.
Felt the touch from your index finger on her silky thigh, gradually sliding upward until it reaches the hem of the laced white dress. Inaudible gasp escaped her lips, and goosebumps spread all over her.
“Still not going to answer, baby girl?”
Yeojin is a tough cookie to break. Well, you already did literally before but it’s the attitude. She could just gave a nod or a simple 'yes' or 'no' to make things easier. If a newbie managed to survive the job as her manager, it’ll be a breakthrough. But here you are, still on the same role and job.
It would only be a matter of time before the others arrive. Compromising others’ time and schedule would spell disaster. Raising the hem of her dress, a pleasant smell greeted your nose—fresh rose scent from her favorite feminine wash, and visual blessing by means of a matched red-laced panties; enough to increase the blood flow in all the right areas in your body.
As much as you want to tease Yeojin first, it’s just simply impractical and dangerous at the current circumstances.
Grabbing and pulling her undergarments in one go; almost breaking it at the process. Your hands found their place in Yeojin's petite cheeks—oh, for the love of Venus—supple and irresistible.
“O- op- uhm– Daddy?”
Thank God, she finally spoke. And she just used her ultimate move. The perfect trigger—climbing to the level of overdrive.
“Yes, baby girl?”
“Will Daddy punish me for not behaving good?” Yeojin turned around to look at you with her half-lidded eyes. Fuck. So vulnerable yet ruinable.
“Yes, my baby girl needs to learn again to listen.”
Spreading her cheeks there lies her impatient lubricated cunt; dripping, already forming a pool on the couch but it doesn’t matter anymore. Unbuckling your belt with haste to push down your pants and briefs in one go just enough to let out your raging cock.
“All fours, now.”
Yeojin didn’t even hesitate for a second. She got herself into position right away.
A two, quick strokes on your cock before lining up yourself in her entrance. The glans kissed her labia, making Yeojin whimper.
“Hmmp–”
“Still not used to this, baby girl?”
“It’s just– Daddy’s cock is too big for my pus– AH!”
Not letting Yeojin finish as you pulled her waist to penetrate her deep right away. Tight. Warm. Wet. Perfect. Words could not even experiencing the real thing. Its grip like it's holding on for its dear life? Priceless. That is why you can keep with Yeojin and her stubbornness, when there’s a sweet prize only you and you can claim.
Your hips knew what they suppose to do—starting from a nice, good rhythm gradually increasing tempo. Clapping sounds growing stronger each second.
“Yes- oh- oh- fuck- yes, daddy! I miss your big cock so much!” Yeojin really screams her heart out in happiness, or pleasure, or both in general. Her cute, lewd voice—the same one she uses to record their songs which her fans enjoy. Well, you couldn’t totally blame them. It’s an earcandy.
“Shit. So good- ugh!” you grunted.
Dirty, filthy sounds—moans, whimpers, two fleshes clapping against the other, and compliments of how two bodies give each other pleasure—are what filled the room basically. You and Yeojin may not admit it but you can’t get enough of each other. It’s like a need that turned into addiction. Yin-yang. Light and dark. Good and bad.
But like everything else, there’s always an end. Your phone rings, and the ringtone is specifically assigned for the group. They’re about to arrive in no time. Time to finish the business and thankfully Lady Luck is on your side.
“Yeojin, fuck, argh, I’m close!”
“Yes, Daddy! Do it inside! Breed me, fill me with your cum!”
Even without her words, you’re about to do it anyway. Spraying all your semen on the couch is not a good news for the others.
“I'm cumming!”
With your final forceful thrust, burying your cock deep inside, ropes and ropes of cum reached her womb, painting her insides. Yeojin’s still tight pussy milking you out—baby girl claiming her prize. She also came as her spasms were noticeable; her body barely keeping steady from her position. Upon slipping out your cock, you pulled her panties back immediately to avoid any droplets of cum reaching the couch.
Yeojin was exhausted real good. But she has to fix herself before the girls see her ruined and messed up.
“Get up, Yeojin. Your unnies are coming. We need to fix ourselves and everything else before they arrive.”
“Ok... yes, oppa,” she said, her voice showing signs of fatigue.
~~~
After making sure no trace was left on the crime scene, the girls arrived just on time. The assistant manager was the one who handled them for the meantime. They looked tired on the ride going home.
“Oh, manager-nim, Yeojin, you two are here already? How lucky!” one of the girls said.
“Just need to talk about something with our lovely maknae,” you replied.
“What is it?”
“Oh, nothing serious. Just a few reminders from the company.”
“I see. Well, we better go to bed it’s already getting late.”
“Right, right. Shall we, Yeojin?”
“Yes, manager-nim!” she responded with such enthusiasm, and winked at you before going to her room.
“Oh, please,” you sighed, as the exhilarating job of keeping up with them especially Yeojin, continues. Sadly.
A/N: Purely BFH and done in one sitting. Seeing Yeojin was just- hoo, nevermind. Anyway, the fic is unedited so forgive me for a few mistakes. Have work tomorrow but still finished this using the writing juices I have. Hope you enjoy! Have a good day, or night!
- Ren :)
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hanasnx · 5 months
Text
MINORS DNI 18+
MODERN!ANAKIN SKYWALKER who's got a bit of a situationship with you. It's not like him, he's very new to it all and its rules, which means some key details get lost in translation with him. For most, the "talking" stage consists of the ability to still see other people during, keeping your options open so to speak. For Anakin, he expects a sort of unspoken faithfulness he had no reason to define until now.
Now, as he stares at two words. "she's busy." A text he's been deliberating over for an inappropriate amount of time. What could possess another person to answer your texts for you? A glance to your contact name confirms it, just in case he was losing his mind. He kinda wishes he was. He taps your name, and calls you. Three rings. An answer on the other line, that is most certainly not you, invades his ears.
"Yo," the deep voice says and Anakin doesn't say a word as he hangs up. Without a second thought, he pulls up your Snap Map which you've stupidly left on. You do that a lot. Sometimes he checks on you only to see what you're up to. Some days he watches your little Bitmoji happy on it's map at that little cafe you like, and he calls you to see if you'll tell him the truth of where you are.
He gets in his car, and tracks you down.
His fingers drum against the steering wheel, just like his fist drums against the front door when he gets there. It shakes the whole fucking house. He takes a step back, resting his hands on his hips, and his tongue forms over his upper lip.
The door opens, and he comes face to face with the guy he presumes texted him, and answered the phone. This is his place. "Can I help you?" he questions with an attitude Anakin doesn't fucking care for at all.
"I don't wanna talk to you, I wanna talk to her." Blunt as ever, Anakin comes off as unstable to your companion, who obviously bucks up in your defense.
"The fuck? No. What do you think this is?" he responds, and the escalation of raising voices causes you to recognize who your friend is talking to. So you come downstairs, and see that familiar head of golden curly hair.
"Anakin?" you question in disbelief, slowing your descent down the stairs. At your arrival, Anakin's attention completely shifts onto you.
"Hey." He nods up. "We need to talk." His finger points to the space in front of him, as if calling you over like a dog. Oddly and subconsciously compelled, you make your way closer to him. Your friend's arm rests on the door frame, cutting in between you two. Apparently he didn’t want Anakin slipping inside. You only notice how much taller he is compared to your friend. If he wanted to, he’d put him on his ass with a well-placed one-handed push. You try not to think about that now as you approach, standing directly behind your friend’s elbow.
“What the hell are you doing here?” At the end of your sentence, Anakin’s massive hand snatches your upper arm, and your friend goes to separate the two of you with a commotion of “woah, woah!” You appease him, tell him it’s alright, that you’ve gotta take care of this, and allow yourself to be drawn away from the door step and closer to the street.
Once he has you where he wants you, he releases you, and you jostle from the loss of support. That hand wipes down his face, the most irritable you’ve ever seen him, and he gestures to you as he steps closer, “If you’re pulling this shit, let’s just call it.” he tells you, dismissing entirely the existence of the man who owns this house.
The crease in your brows deepen. “I don’t know what you’re talking about—“
“You do, and if I’m competing with other guys I don’t want any fucking part in it.” The towering figure before you stoops to get eye level with you, “Either get smart or fuck off, alright?” You hate to say that his low voice sends shivers down your spine.
His direct ultimatum makes you indignantly blink at him, taken aback at his sheer tenacity as you weigh out the options. He doesn’t give you enough time, scoffing at you, and turning his back on you. As if he could be so bold as to expect to be the only one you’re talking to, expect to treat you this way.
And yet, somehow, you end up back at his place. Impossibly fat cock driving into your insides as he picks you up by your hips into his thrusts. Knelt onto the bed, he rocks forward, while your cervix is getting bruised into submission. You squirm, arching your back off the bed with your pretty legs stuck straight into the air. “Who’s fucking pussy is this, huh? Who’s fucking pussy is this?” Skin smacks skin, harder than before. His tongue forms over his upper lip, brows pinched in focus as he fucks you like he means to beat you into the shape of his dick.
You don’t even hesitate. “Yours!” You whimper. “Yours, Ani, all yours.” You’re lifted almost entirely off the mattress, he straps his hands over your thighs to keep your ass pinned to his abs that sheen with sweat. Cunt stuffed to the brim as he relentlessly bullies it, creating an empty fucking vacuum that screams at you every time he pulls out. You really are fucking obsessed with this entitled behemoth of a man and what he can do to your body in a few strokes.
“That’s fucking right, baby, and don’t you forget it.”
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tojivu · 7 months
Text
# OFFICE HOURS ‣ GOJO SATORU
✰ — author’s note i feel so guilty bc gojo is literally the only character i write for LOL anyway this is an old draft from months ago. idk why this is so long im so horrendously down bad for this fucking snowman.
✰ — cw / tags arrogant ceo!gojo x secretary f!reader, sfw, not rly enemies to lovers bc gojo has fat feelings, gojo satoru being a billionaire playboy
✰ — playing death & taxes by daniel caesar.
✰ — word count ~3k LOL
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nothing about gojo satoru really strikes you as the serious type.
even in a professional environment, your boss always has a carefree demeanour. his laugh is so nauseatingly loud that you can hear it from outside the office, and you wonder how someone as busy as him manages through his day; much less with a positive attitude. you take one look at his schedule, and you want to vomit with the way you hardly see any gaps between appointments.
you suppose you could learn that from him. it's his only good quality.
you admit that he's likeable, on surface level. there's a reason why you detest him, though: as his closest colleague, you know him way more than you would prefer. most people would think such a well to do man like satoru would have a wife by his side, but that's unfortunately not the case. you almost feel more miserable than him—because now you're forced to be the listening ear and comforting hand at his beck and call.
you think he'd be just fine if he was just a little more humble. he has a nice face. it's his fault for being so stuck up. you know how many women ask him out—painfully aware, actually.
'they just aren't suited to my taste,' he would say to you. 'i need someone that makes me feel alive.'
one time, gojo even asked you to bail him out of a date—something about the way she held her fork and knife disturbed him, and you were expected to show up at the restaurant and act as if there was an emergency.
'i'm so sorry, sweetheart. i have to go, duty calls.' his disgustingly charming tone made you want to slap him then and there.
she called him again the following week, and he completely forgot who she was. he didn't even save her number.
the sheer number of people asking him out had stroked his ego so hard that gojo firmly believes no woman is deserving enough. he rambles on and on to you about how snobby some of them seem, and it takes everything in you to bite your tongue when he does. 'takes one to know one,' you would say, if not for your job at stake.
you think gojo satoru is full of himself. you are a strong believer of that. a witness, as well—it's not like he didn't try his way with you, too. unlike the women he ranted about, you turned him down every single time.
it's been a long while since any of that has happened, though. the most recent ordeal was months ago, but that didn't inherently mean that people stopped asking him out: it just meant that he was rejecting every single offer.
it's a thursday morning when you find yourself eating a sandwich you purchased on the way to work, at your desk—wondering when the big boss will finally arrive. the clock read 9 a.m., and you're expecting an extravagant "good morning!" to surprise you any moment now.
just then, you notice mr. conceited walk in: except something is different. he has no stride in his step. there was no good morning. there was no playful teasing directed at you as he walked past your desk and into his office, not that you were complaining—it was just strange.
you stand up, a mouthful of your sandwich still being chewed. you take a big sip of water and fix your skirt and blouse, making sure your hair is presentable—before swiftly making your way into his office.
──────
"i cannot believe this." he mumbles. you're standing in front of his desk, but he's not facing your direction.
gojo's chair is turned to the giant window that overlooks the business district, and he's gazing out of it thoughtfully. you think this is the cheesiest thing you've seen him do.
you can see how disheveled his hair was, even from where you were standing. you don't want to irritate him further, in case teasing you was still on his to-do list that day.
"what is it, mr. gojo?"
he swivels his chair around, and he is a mess—just what could have he been up to?
"i woke up late today."
"you're the boss, mr. gojo. you can come in any time you want—"
"not the point." he interrupts you. "i forgot my lunch. i was in the car, with the driver, on the way here already. . . and then i realised i left my donuts at home."
gojo's face is absolutely distraught. he looks like he's gone through a divorce and had his house set on fire with how he stands up dramatically—his hands now on his desk. you open your mouth to speak, but he shuts you up by talking again.
"i didn't want to inconvenience him. i'm too thoughtful, miss y/n."
you want to scoff, but you bite your tongue and hold back.
"so i got out of the car and ran back for it," gojo recounts. "i arrived home after the treacherous journey—only to discover that my donuts are gone."
you feign an expression of shock, just to humour him; he gives you an 'i know right' look, and continues his nonsensical story.
"the maids threw them away, miss y/n."
you can't help yourself: you let a small giggle slip through your lips. you quickly use your hand to cover your mouth, thinking of a quick excuse.
you cough. you pretend to, at least—but gojo satoru is not stupid.
no, maybe a little. though, not enough to be convinced of your terrible acting.
"nothing about this is funny."
you nod, looking down at the floor. "i apologise, mr. gojo, but it's just a few donuts. i'm sure someone in the office could fetch some for you."
"yes, i agree." he says, and you shift your gaze from the marble tiling of his office to his face. his hair is a mess, yes—but he still looks revoltingly handsome. his eyes are piercing through yours, and pieces of hair cover his face in just the right places.
you're staring a little too long and gojo finds his pulse quickening with the eye contact—but the spell he has you under is soon broken when he clears his throat.
you quickly look away, embarrassed that you were caught staring at your boss, by your boss.
"you'll pick some up for me, yeah?" his smooth and silky voice echoes through the empty space of his office.
you look at him again, and there's a gentle smile on his face; one you're all too familiar with.
you're aware of satoru's charismatic nature, his playboy-ish attitude, and all sorts of tricks he uses to make women fall head over heels for him. that didn't mean you were completely resistant to them, though—you find yourself playing with the sleeves of your blouse, your ears beginning to redden. "of course," is all you manage to say.
at least you were self-aware.
your mind was rational. should gojo satoru try to hit on you for the nth time—all it took was some self discipline to say no, and you'd like to think you had plenty.
you think the conversation is done with the way he doesn't speak another word, so you turn on your heels and make your way out of the office.
just as you touch the handle of the door, your boss adds: "i'll come with you."
you turn back to him, confused. you didn't need your boss babysitting you for a donut run, you knew his favourite flavours—it's all he ever insists on buying for lunch. "there's no need for that, mr. gojo."
satoru shakes his head in disapproval. "you don't even know my favourite flavours, miss y/n."
that was a blatant lie. he knew you knew. you were his personal donut grabber for a few months up until august, and it was only october. you suppose that it would've continued on if not for your complaints about the long lines in the morning.
nevertheless, you don't argue with him. gojo satoru was the type to get what he wants, when he wants, if he really wants it.
you smile at his disregard for the months you spent as his errand runner, and how idiotic the excuse he just used was. satoru knows he's lying through his teeth, and your smile makes him more nervous than your eye contact.
so nervous, in fact, that he takes back what he just said. "unless. . . you're fine by yourself."
you're surprised that gojo's confidence is dissipating, or that it could even fade at all. you can tell with the way he's avoiding your eye contact, exactly how you evaded his earlier—the red on the tips of his ears are much too obvious in contrast to his hair.
"i don't mind," you respond a bit too quicker than appropriate. "mr. gojo."
gojo curses himself mentally, thinking about how stupid he must sound. he's usually the one making people nervous, but he doesn't know why it's different when you look at him like that.
──────
the atmosphere is deafening in gojo's favourite bakery. you always knew he had a sweet tooth, so you expected his choice to be a spectacular one—and you weren't disappointed.
you had personally visited this bakeshop before, and the confectionery was truly as good as people made it out to be; it proved evident in the amount of people crammed into this small establishment. though, you can't tell if it was for the food or for your boss, with the way most pairs of eyes are turned in his direction.
you two spend a good five seconds looking at the menu before gojo states his order, which was exactly what you thought it would be—the lady at the cashier smiles a bit too long at satoru, before asking: "eating in?"
you want to open your mouth to say something, but he beats you to it. "of course."
it was still very well your work day. he (or maybe you and him, considering you helped him plan seventy percent of his appointments) had a meeting in 3 hours to prepare for. you think this donut adventure is already unnecessary enough—but here he is, suggesting to waste even more time eating the donuts in the bakery itself.
"we have a meeting in a bit, though. you could eat it in your office."
he looks at you with a confused look, as if he forgot that there was a meeting at all—because he did forget. gojo gasps, turning back to the lady and retracting his previous statement.
──────
gojo eats his donuts agonisingly slow and no conversation is initiated.
you're alternating between staring at both your laptops and the swirls on the wooden desk, unable to say anything because you didn't plan for such an occasion: an eating donuts with your admittedly handsome boss that makes you nervous while simultaneously planning for an important meeting occasion.
"miss y/n, you should try some."
you shift your eyes from the table to gojo, and he's holding a small piece of his donut to your lips: the powdered sugar practically calling your name.
"it's fine, i ate earlier," you decline his generous offer. "you should eat."
"i'm not asking you to eat all of them, miss y/n." he smiles at you. "just a bite. it's really good, y'know."
you sigh, reaching for his hand to take it from him—but he swiftly pulls it away and shakes his head. "open your mouth."
you feel the tips of your ears burning, blood rushing to your cheeks and you wonder how the girls he takes out manage themselves when he's like this—you've worked with him for so long, yet you can't recall a time when his gaze wouldn't make you shudder.
you think you'd stutter if you spoke one more word to him, so you save yourself from the embarrassment and bare with his request.
he feeds you the piece of sugar-coated donut, and you're sure you have powder on the corners of your lips with how it's width barely fits into your mouth.
you chew and swallow, feeling the residue of sugar on your skin.
"do you have any tissues?" you ask him, a serious expression plastered onto your face.
gojo tries to suppress the chuckle itching to escape his throat—the sugar on your lips and cheeks catch him off guard, and after a few seconds he can't help but let a small laugh slip. you stand up from your chair, scanning the room for any boxes of tissues you could lay your hands on.
he stands up as well, shaking his head—still giggling.
"it's not funny," you frown, and the smile on his face only grows wider—you're too cute for your own good when you sulk. "stop laughing."
you're not sure if you want to punch him or let him giggle to himself. for some reason, seeing you embarrassed is a great cause of joy to him. you can't bring yourself to tell him to shut up; you always imagine doing just that, it's strange how you couldn't muster the courage just when you needed it most.
"it's quite funny," gojo's laughter eventually calms down.
he leans closer to you and his right hand gently holds the side of your jaw—he uses his thumb to gently wipe the sugar off your cheek, and then your lips. "i got it."
his thumb stays on your bottom lip after dusting the sugar away. his pupils are locked onto the surface of your lips, which were glossy in the harsh light of his office: they looked so soft.
before long, they trail up your face until he's looking directly into your eyes: and this time you're not nervous, you don't look away, and your heart is completely calm.
satoru's fingers are easy on your skin. he handles you like fragile glass, as if he doesn't want to break you: and it's the same for the way he looks at you. gentle.
you're reluctant to speak because the way satoru has his thumb on your bottom lip sends shivers down your spine. you feel breathless.
you don't want this feeling to leave, not just yet.
a few seconds of tension pass. his hand moves back to your jaw, and your nervousness returns when gojo satoru leans his tall figure even closer to you; his head tilting ever so slightly.
it's a random thursday morning when you discover a few more good qualities gojo satoru possesses: his lips and his hands. maybe the way he kisses, too—it's slow and precise, unlike his attitude. he tastes sickeningly sweet and it makes you want to savour this moment even more.
you promised yourself you wouldn't fall victim to gojo satoru. yet, you just can't pull away: instead finding yourself slithering your arms around his neck and your chest pressing against his.
gojo's hands are wandering down to your waist and he's desperate to have you as close to him as possible, showing in the way he tries to close the already small gap between you two.
it takes only a fraction of a second for a small thought to form in your mind: just how many women have been in this position?
you quickly forget about that thought, though—you think it's pointless to regret it now, gojo satoru kisses you too good to be full of remorse.
gojo thinks he could stay like this: kiss you all morning, afternoon and pay you overtime if it meant he could be this close to you for just a bit longer.
there's hints of neediness in gojo's touch—as if he'd been waiting for this forever, wanting to relish it before it ends. his few seconds of bliss don’t last very long though, because you're soon pulling away—gasping for air.
he sighs mockingly, his hands sliding down from your waist to your hips. "can't last longer than 10 seconds, miss y/n?"
of course he would say some cocky shit like that—you'd forgotten for a minute that this was the same, arrogant mr. gojo you always knew, and no kiss (however heavenly) was going to change that.
"i'm sorry that i don't go on dates with every man that breathes."
gojo smirks at you after you say those words. "come on. just because i go on dates with people, doesn't mean i kiss them like this."
"sure you don't." your jealousy shows a bit too much in your reply, and he finds himself smiling even harder.
"is someone jealous?" he teases you again, rubbing circles with his thumb against the flesh of your hips.
you feel flustered, knowing that you're definitely done for now—he saw right through you. "nobody is jealous, mr. gojo."
"stop it with the formality. just call me satoru."
"it's still office hours. it's only polite."
gojo rolls his eyes, sighing in the process. you grin a little at him, knowing that this was the first thing you denied him of today—complying with the donuts and the kissing was already spoiling him enough.
"then i suppose there's only after work," there's his nauseatingly charming voice again—low and smooth. he knows exactly what he's doing to you, and you know it too. "i'm off after 6."
you think long and hard about whether you want to be mean and add this to the list of things you've declined to do for him. the ratio was starting to get really unbalanced—but you remember the way his hands touch you and how his lips greet yours so lovingly: and you think that there's no point turning back now.
"my boss doesn't let me off until after 8, though." you try to poke at his buttons—you put on a fake pout, knowing you’ll accept his invitation anyway—but gojo satoru is eternally patient when it came to things he sincerely desired.
"fuck your boss." he says, "he'll be fine with it."
you laugh at his response. you never thought you would see the day gojo curses at himself, after all, he's so self-obsessed: but you suppose you've seen—and tasted—parts of him that you never knew existed.
"then i'll see you at 6, mr. gojo."
what was the harm in discovering more?
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230323 — i kinda hate this but.. wtv… anyway i couldn’t be bothered to proofread have my brainrot of gojo in a suit Mmmm yumyum
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avelnfear · 1 year
Text
This is a snippet that might someday make it into my fic.
“He’s the least dangerous one.” Jason snorted at Ra’s Al Ghul’s words. “He’s the civilian in a family of Bats.” Jason let out a short laugh, clamping his mouth shut as soon as he heard his voice. He was clearly struggling to hold in his laughter, but no one could deduce why. “By taking all of you first we have taken away his support, making it easy to deal with him.”
Anyone who knew Ra’s Al Ghul knew that he’d just told them that he’d captured the heroes and then ordered the death of a person they’d left behind. By the destroyed look on all but one of the heroes faces, this person would be dearly missed.
Jason tried to keep from laughing, he really did, but the combined looks of horror on his family’s faces and the smugness coming from a man who was so very wrong proved to be too much. He burst into laughter so hard that one might think he’d been hit with Joker’s Gas. The room’s occupants looked at him with varying levels of confusion, concern, and disbelief.
When his laughter didn’t dissipate for a long time, Ra’s became angry. “What do you find so funny? You’ve just been informed that your beloved will be killed, and you find that funny?” His tone was biting even in his clear confusion.
Abruptly, Jason stoped laughing. The change was so sudden that it was unnerving. Several people, captive or otherwise jolted with the jarring shift in attitude as all amusement had left Jason’s face.
“I don’t find it funny.” Jason leaned forward as much as the chains binding him would allow, locking eyes with Ra’s, his face deadly serious. “I find it fucking hilarious.” Jason waited until Ra’s opened his mouth to continue as everyone else watched in stunned silence. “You think he’s the normal one, the civilian in a group of heroes. You think he’s not very dangerous if dangerous at all. You think your assassins can do anything to him. You think he needs us for support. You think you’ll be able to kill him. You think you are safe. You think he’ll never be able to find you. You think you’ve won.” Jason’s voice was soft and quiet yet piercing. He leaned back, expression blank. “As for me? Of course I don’t find it funny. The sheer amount of things your wrong about it hilarious all on its own, without any context. I can’t fucking wait to see the look on your face when you find out just how wrong you are. You’ve fucked around, now it’s time to find out. Your brilliant fucking strategy is an absolute shit show because of misinformation. If I were you, I’d start praying, hoping that some god is willing to further piss off the one you call a civilian by protecting your sorry ass to the best of their ability. It might buy you an extra minute to exist.”
There was a massive thud from down the hall, coming from an impact that struck the whole structure. Jason tilted his head down, grin sharp and inhuman and eyes flashing green.
From down the hall was clearly heard, “Cucumber on a stick! I overshot!”
The other captives tensed, that was Danny! What was he doing here? How was he here?
The assassins in the room tensed. That voice belonged to the civilian lover Red Hood was just ranting about. How was he here? How was he still alive?
Ra’s felt something odd swell in his chest, tightening his muscles and making his heart race. He knew it was a civilian on the other side of the door, he knew it. There was nothing special about Danny Nightingale except that he’d changed his name from Daniel Fenton. Then why, why, did Ra’s suddenly feel like prey that had wandered into the path of a predator?
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soursvgar · 1 year
Text
When do you use your pact with them? ♡
demon brothers x gender neutral reader warnings: mentions of attack/violence, general sadness/self-criticism of mc in some parts
✧・゚: *✧・゚:*
ෆ Lucifer ━ when you need guidance
Lucifer bows to no one. In a matter of fact, thousands of demons were just as shocked as you were when Lucifer agreed to be in a pact with you, which made it crystal clear for you to never misuse it. Out of the bunch, he was the hardest to ever get a hold of, essentially being the one with the most responsibilities and work load. You knew better than to disturb him while he was up to his head in devildom matters, but sometimes, just sometimes, you had a hunch that he needs a break just as much as you do.
It was already nightfall when you find yourself idle in your room, left to your own thoughts with only the lights to accompany them. Just moments ago, you walked past Lucifer's study in looks for a midnight snack to calm your rumbling stomach- or maybe it was your rumbling mind you wanted to subdue. You remember peeking through the crack in the door, spotting Lucifer still submitted to a mountain of documents and found yourself wondering; Should you adopt his attitude towards his chores, or perhaps it's a bit overbearing? Are you too lenient, though? Maybe you were playing around too much and couldn't bring the results Diavolo and the rest were expecting from you? It was burning in you to simply ask him, but could you?
It was a genuine intention that turned to a manifestation of your thoughts, and you haven't even realized what your magic had caused- not until Lucifer, still clicking his pen, suddenly present himself in your room, wearing the same perplexed expression as you.
"Y/N, did you just... summon me?" It was a look of sheer surprise, however, it carried no hint of anger nor regret. Perhaps it was just what the both of you needed at that moment.
✧・゚: *✧・゚:*
ෆ Mammon ━ when you need protection
If any of your demons is to be at your service around the clock, it'll be Mammon. He responds to your texts at the speed of light, never turns down a call from you, and will arrive anywhere as soon as you ask him to. Hence, when you already use your pact to call him he's aware it is most likely an emergency. Mammon never questions when you do, it's never "What happened?" but rather "What do you need me to do?". Moreover, he would be offended if you were to call anyone that isn't him. He is your first man, your hero, your protector, and he is incredibly capable of serving this purpose.
"Mammon-" You mutter when he appears in front of you, his mobile device in his hand as he was just about to call and ask what's holding you back from coming home to him for such a long time. You stare at him with a frightened expression as you hush your words in a low tone, eyes flickering left and right with each word you speak. "I heard this group of demons whispering about me, I think they might try something since they saw I'm alone..." Mammon's expression is stern, but his eyes are warm and comforting while he looks at you, a hand snaking to sooth around your back.
"You're not alone. You never will be. I'm always right beside you."
✧・゚: *✧・゚:*
ෆ Leviathan ━ when you need a plan
Levi is usually pretty keen on helping you, and he also has a lot of time on his hands to do so. However, he can be a tad hard to reach at times, being committed to the shut in life. He would often abandon his cell reception, ignore calls and texts and only show a sign of life after weeks of intense gaming sessions, in which he also couldn't hear the knocks on his door through his noise cancelling headphones. He would get annoyed at first with your summoning, catching him in the middle of a boss level, but he soon learned to always turn on auto save. He knew you usually had a good reason, and were just looking out for him.
"I'M GONNA BUST YOUR A- Oh." Leviathan blinks, realizing he isn't in his room anymore, the controller still within his firm grip. "How long was I in there this time?" His eyes slowly adjust to the light of day when he finally turns to your direction, facing your distraught visage. "Three weeks. And I really tried! But I can't do this on my own. Lucifer and Diavolo laid a serious task on me that is due this week and I need your strategy skills, General." Dropping the controller, Leviathan stands up with glee. It's not every day that he's being asked to perform a task he's actually good at, and nevertheless, by you of all people.
"It's actually Admiral General- but I hear you, let's get to work, Henry!"
✧・゚: *✧・゚:*
ෆ Satan ━ when you need a problem solved
Satan was a threat that always worked, it was enough to even scare you at times. While capable of controlling wrath, it wasn't wrath that controlled Satan back, but rather something much more terrifying. Satan's magnificent brain had the ability to study anyone's weaknesses, and use it to alter the situation to his favor. He of course, never needed to use it on you, or ever intended to, but his brothers were intimidated by this extension of his powers, and at times, it could come in handy.
"Could you guys please stop fighting?" You huff, physically inserting yourself between yet another argument of Mammon and Leviathan as you were hoping it would prevent the two from crushing each other- and you on the way. Certainly, it was within your power to put an end to it with a simple word, sending them both tumbling down to the floor, but you figured a less aggressive approach would be necessary to stop them from transferring their dispute away from you while rubbing off their bruises. With a shake of your head, after an apology accompanied by a promise to return the favor, you turn to a different solution and forcefully insert their cunning little brother into the scene.
Satan just sighs, crouching down so his lips are at the shell of your ear while his digits tuck a stray hair behind it. "I'll help you, but calling me here like this and interrupting my reading will cost you. I would like to cash in that favor tonight." Rolling up his sleeves, he winks at you before proceeding to fulfill your request.
✧・゚: *✧・゚:*
ෆ Asmodeus ━ when you need advice
After making a pact with him, you actually never used it as you mostly just communicated through texts or merely walking into each other's rooms. With that said, Asmo was constantly alluding to it, and even stressed how fond he is of the element of surprise that is bound within the pact. (He may or may not have mentioned an incident where Solomon summoned him while he was in the middle of one of his regular calming baths, and winked while telling you he 'hopes you can learn a thing or two from him'.)
It was one of those nights where you were dealing with matters of the heart, and realized that as much as you're enjoying your stay and appreciate everything the residents of the devildom are doing for you, it was in fact taking a toll on you not to be able to reach out to your friends and family for comfort. Perhaps you could use some life advice, or a voice to remind you of the role you were fulfilling for the three worlds; you need someone who is honest, but also thoughtful of your wishes. For that reason, you decide to finally use your pact to call in Asmodeus, knowing better than to wander the halls with a dwelling heart and worry your demons. When Asmo appears in front of you, reading a magazine, he takes one look at your face and immediately recognizes something must be wrong. Approaching you, he collects you in his arms and gently cups your face, eyes sincere with concern as he faces you.
"Oh no, what is it darling? Tell me everything, let me take care of you."
✧・゚: *✧・゚:*
ෆ Beelzebub ━ when you need a helping hand
It didn't happen too many times as you always felt a little silly to just conjure Beel out of nowhere when you were carrying too much, however, he always materialized in front of you with a wide grin stretching from ear to ear. The truth is, he gave you a free pass to do so because he knew that if you already did, you probably couldn't simply use your phone- maybe you miscalculated the amount of things you need, or you just got carried away, or maybe you're even injured. Whatever reason you may have, it doesn't matter for Beel because he's just a good person that loves helping out, and to you even more so. He did learn to clutch tight on his food though, he doesn't want to leave behind an unfinished plate when you call.
"You know you can just invite me to go with you, right?" Beel appears with a sandwich in his hand, swiftly ridding you off the heavy bags as he gulps down the rest of his food in one bite. "I'm sorry... I had to buy decorations for the party at RAD and didn't want to bore you with the process. I was sure I could handle it but ended up needing so many things I couldn't even reach my phone." You apologize with a sheepish smile. Beel shakes his head before he hoists you up in his arms, carrying you together with the shopping bags.
"I'm never bored when I'm with you."
✧・゚: *✧・゚:*
ෆ Belphegor ━ when you need a shoulder to lean on
Belphie is usually pretty responsive- but only when he's awake. Which unfortunately, doesn't happen too often. The idea was actually his own, following one particular morning where he snuck into your bed to snuggle up to you, only to come across a bin full of tissues and your tear stained cheeks. His heart shattered when he noticed the missed call on his device, and when you woke up, he sat you down to promise him you'll always turn to him when you're in need of some comfort. Because it's only fair, since he always turns to you.
After a number of successful weeks since the occasion, you've been experiencing a slump- you couldn't keep up with the material in class all while preparing the three worlds festival, and today of all days, was outstandingly exhausting. Finally laying in your bed, you whip up your phone and try to call up your demon for some cuddles, and maybe some sympathy for your cause as well. You give up after a couple of unanswered calls, and a reply from his twin telling you that he's in fact not around, figuring he must've fallen asleep somewhere else.
At first, you hesitate to take Belphegor on his offer, unsure of whether he would actually be okay with you waking him up, or perhaps he's out doing something important. Nonetheless, the only feeling to fill you up once his slumbering figure appears on your bed, is relief. He lazily opens his eyes, a grin tugging on his lips when he reads the situation before he pulls you into his embrace, his slim fingers weave through your hair in soothing motions.
"I'm glad you listened. I never want you to have to handle any bad day alone."
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crazycookies73307 · 2 months
Text
It's amazing just how much you're willing to do for someone when you like them.
In the romantic sense, I mean.
When you platonically like someone you'd do anything for them, as long as you're able to handle it.
When you romantically like someone, though? That's a whole different level we're talking about.
When you romantically like someone, you'd do anything for them, even if it's sometimes beyond your capabilities.
You might be drowning in your own sorrows, but their suffering always feels like a greater loss. So much so that you feel as though you'd bear their pains on top of your own, just so that they wouldn't have to.
You might find yourself terribly busy, but you always manage to make time for them. You might not know anything related to their interests, so despite being behind on just about everything else, you still somehow manage to learn about them.
Granted, all this is applicable to platonic love as well, but somehow, you felt that romantic love had a certain magical feel to it.
Maybe it was the influence of too many Disney movies, but who cares.
But in the same way, it was also amazing just how much you're not willing to do for someone who you don't like.
Again, in the romantic sense.
See, this is what you meant about the difference between platonic and romantic love. As far as life has worked out for you, when you romantically like someone, you'd find a way to give them the moon and when you just platonically like someone, you'd barely be willing to give them a polished pebble.
Or maybe, you just have shitty friends.
Correction, shitty friend.
You'd do anything for him, even it meant your own doom, but God forbid if the same applied to you.
Their messages were read as soon as they were delivered. Yours was left on delivered for a while.
They ask him for a favour, he'd do it. Granted, it would take a bit of convincing. But for you? Yeah, dream on.
Situations arose where you'd be partnered together. And more than half the time, you know he'd rather be paired with someone else. A certain someone else.
Unless your help was necessary, that is.
Somehow, you had the solutions for everyone's problems.
The advisor, the helper, the mother, the tutor, the therapist, the mentor.
It also sucked that you were an enigma for the rest. You somehow managed to stay on the top of your game despite taking on more and more.
But few knew of your disastrous tendency to procrastinate. Pair it with your perfectionistic attitude and it was a recipe for a disaster, the result being an extremely stressed, sleep deprived and caffeine high you.
You still pushed through, though.
Out of sheer spite and willpower, but still.
The fact was, that you were a busy person. And it's a universal truth that busy people are always stressed.
When you were a busy person with a stupid crush on a guy you know you've got zero chance with, it made your stress ten times worse.
It was as though the universe was against you.
The perfect guy, one who actually wasn't your type, but ended up redefining your idea of your ideal type to fit himself in.
The one guy who you knew, was not necessarily a bad match for you, personality wise anyways. Lord knows if there's anything else lurking beneath.
The one guy who managed to make your tough attitude melt into absolute nothing.
The one guy who managed to make you, who dreamt of lazy rainy evenings and warm tea , end up dreaming about the mushy stuff. Stuff you wouldn't normally dream about, not with a clear cut idea anyway, like your dates, hugs, talks, and even your marriage.
Especially your marriage.
The one guy who managed to break down a lot of your walls, the one guy you felt safe with, the one guy you knew you could trust openly, and you couldn't have him.
For reasons out of your control, you just weren't what he was looking for.
You were good enough to help him.
You were good enough to listen to his troubles.
You were good enough to be used as an excuse for when crap went sideways, because after all, you were trusted.
You were kind, after all. His words, not yours.
It's kind of embarassing, just how much you were willing to do for his sake, and just how little you expected him to do for you.
What you wanted were your thoughts, emotions and actions returned. What you received, was an entirely different matter.
He cared about her,worried about her, and for better or for worse, cried for her. To the extent that you sometimes wished you could stab yourself rather than to witness the scenes unfold.
If he was so capable of such emotions, so capable of freely expressing them, then why was it that he never even gave an ounce of it your way?
Were you worthy of the bare minimum effort? The bare minimum care?
Were you worth so little?
Was that it?
Was that why you were always, always one of the lowest of his priorities?
Maybe it was a you problem, maybe it had nothing to do with him.
But was it really?
Was it really your fault that he chose her over you, every single time?
Was it really your fault, when he made the choice to prioritise her needs over his own, and then come crying to you?
Was it really your fault, when he decided to play a dangerous game of chase with her, willingly allowing you to be the first hand witness to their game?
Was it really your fault, when despite you being there to help him out of his messes, especially regarding hers, he still went running to her for comfort?
They created the messes that you had to clean up.
They were the ones who made bad life choices and come running to you for advice.
They were the ones who were involved in the god forsaken game of cat and mouse, somehow dragging you into the middle of the mess.
They were the ones who forced you into a corner sometimes, with you being needed to cover for them, in the face of a lot of people.
They were the ones who had to be careful in their so-called games, but you were the one forced to enforce the said caution.
In their point of view, you were the villain in their story.
Always poking around, ruining a part of their fun.
But they also know that they were the ones who forced you into the role. That someone was needed to possess the common sense that they lacked. Of course, whether they listened to the said common sense was another matter entirely.
Granted, sometimes you enjoyed putting them in their places a bit too much.
Despite his devil may care attitude when it came to anyone other than her, you knew that he did care for you. You knew that he did consider you to be a friend. After all, you did spend a lot of time together for you to just be named an acquaintance.
It was just that his efforts towards you paled in comparison to those directed towards her.
It also didn't help that he trusted you enough that he knew you'd not betray him, or his feelings that even he himself was kind of oblivious about. It was obvious to you both that he had certain questionable feelings, definitely not of the platonic type, towards her but you knew him well enough to know he'd rather ignore them for the sake of his sanity. At the cost of your own, you admit.
You were the one he cried to about things related to her, you were the one who knew that he was actually completely whipped for her. Not that he was good at hiding it, just about everyone could see it. It was just that you were the only one who was aware of the extent of it.
Sometimes you were sick of playing the adult. Sometimes you wanted to shake him out of this stupid mess he called his feelings. Sometimes you wanted to scream at him, of how you wanted out.
Out of everything that you never wanted to get yourself into.
Sometimes, you wanted him to just get over himself and confess, after all, atleast then you didn't have to see him pine around for someone else.
The rest of the time you were content about being there for him, regardless of the toll it took on your emotions.
Something is better than nothing, right?
And while you were torturing yourself with their roundabout pining, you'd rather be the first to find out if they ever decided to commit. At least you could get the time to prepare your poor, poor heart for when you'd have to break the reality to it.
The same heart, that despite the torturous wait, still hoped that he'd look your way. That he'd find that what he was looking for all this while, was actually right next to him.
That your efforts would be rewarded.
They had to be, right?
No deity was cruel enough to let all those efforts, those feelings, those thoughts, those tears, be for nothing, right?
Your mind said otherwise, but your foolish heart stubbornly kept on believing.
You knew, heartbreak was the only outcome of this stupid situation that you'd gotten yourself into.
You just hoped that when the time came, they would be kind enough to break it cleanly into two, rather than shatter it completely into tiny pieces.
At least it would be easier to put it back together.
Hopefully, anyways.
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m3talmunson · 1 year
Text
Any reasonable person would think, with the sheer length of Eddie's hair, that he would have the slightest idea of how to care for it.
If you thought that, you'd be wrong. He was flying by the seat of his pants, with a bonus of simple luck. It was astonishing that his hair didn't get matted throughout day to day life, let alone the end of the world.
Yes, Eddie obviously went to a hospital after it all. Nobody could have survived that level substantial of injuries without it. But no matter the NDA's, or the "freedom from prosecution," as Dr. Owens puts it, it didn't come with a clean-wiped slate in the public eye.
So Eddie chose to lay low. He got the treatments that were deemed necessary by the doctors, and then he got the hell out of there.
At least, from all of this, Eddie learned only to run when he needed to.
Part of him was scared he and Wayne wouldn't be able to swing the bill. That part of him was satiated when Owens's team swung the bill and replaced the... mangled Munson trailer. These government reparations didn't anywhere near touch the damage that was done, but Wayne and Eddie would take what they could get. Like they always had. Of course, the universe saw fit that Eddie take a little more.
Eddie was told -putting it politely- to stay the fuck out of that trailer park. Just because his name was cleared legally doesn't mean he should be anywhere he would normally go about his business. Not for the next couple weeks, at least.
And Steve Harrington, ever so giving, offered up his home as sanctuary.
And of course, Eddie was immediately trying to find a way out of it. When that didn't work, he started asking how soon he needed to leave. He didn't want to feel like a burden, especially not to Steve.
"Stay as long as you need, Eds. Forever, for a little while, on and off, literally anything as long as I don't have to carry you out of hell again. That's the one condition."
Sure, living with Steve had it's perks. He had some semblance of privacy, walls with ANY soundproofing, and company. What more could a boy ask for, you would think.
Not living down the hall from his crush while looking like a walking nightmare, Eddie thought, was a perfectly reasonable thing to ask for. He did not get that.
Despite living in the same house as him, he avoided Steve like the plague. Steve had made it clear his 'what's mine is yours' attitude was open to Eddie, but Eddie preferred his room. His boxes from the old trailer were there, his guitar, his sanity (or what remains). The moment he limped his way out of that door, he was in the realm of Steve. And he did not feel up to the task of being presentable in front of his literal crush.
Still, Steve came into his room every so often. Eddie went to the hospital, but he wasn't magically better. Steve changed his bandages, helped him when he needed it, brought him homemade soup? Because, somehow, Eddie is in an alternate dimension where Steve Harrington is making him his grandma's chicken noodle soup recipe for him. And it is PHENOMENAL.
Eddie could have never expected any of the past month's events. He was still grappling with the fact that life would just... return to normal somehow after the end of the world.
He had enough on his plate. However, the universe thought fit to throw some more on.
During one of his Steve-check-ups™, Steve just absentmindedly mentioned something Eddie was dreading.
"How have you been dealing with all that hair? I mean it's been in a new bun every day this week but you can barely lift your arms?"
"Well, actually Steve," Eddie started, "I haven't. This is the same bun you put in on Wednesday." He tilted his head down, he didn't really want to look Steve in the eye when he said that.
"Well shit Eddie, what can I do to help?"
And wasn't it oh so nice when Steve looked up at him with those big eyes, knocking on the door of his soul. How could Eddie turn his gaze from that?
"What can be done? I can't wash it until these fuckers-" He pointed at the sides of his abdomen, to the bandages that Steve had just finished replacing, "have healed enough for me to lift my arms, which should be almost any time now. Then, we can take these bandages off, I can get out of your hair, and I can clean my own."
It was pretty obvious that neither of the men liked that agreement, but Eddie saw it as the only option. Wait a week, lift his arms, get the hell out of dodge. Easy enough.
"I could wash your hair. You know I know how to." Steve replied, a genuine offer, not a throwaway or handout that was just a kind gesture.
"No, Stevie, you don't need to worry about m-"
"Checkmate, I already do. You lock yourself in here except for food, I don't even feel like you're enjoying yourself! What's the point in breaking out of hell, fighting tooth and nail, just to sit in your room? C'mon Eddie, let me do one thing to make your life easier." Steve was interrogating him, but for his own good? And only two weeks ago he thought Steve was just some highschool douche that he just had a little crush on once upon a long time ago. Here he is, caring for him like they've known eachother for years.
"You do enough for me." Eddie hid the blush building on his face by looking to the ground across from Steve. Steve just moved his head there.
"I want to do more. I'm offering to do more."
"You're not going to let me say no, are you?"
"It's your hair, your body! But no, not really."
"Let's go," Eddie said, swinging his legs carefully over the edge of his bed.
And that's how Eddie ended up in a T-shirt and boxers, head laying back in the kitchen sink. He hadn't really gotten to the standing-for-long-periods-of-time point of recovery, so Steve pulled up a stool and a towel for Eddie's shoulders, and got ready to work above his head.
"I'll tell you when to put your head back, don't want to freeze you with the water."
Steve turned the faucet to the hottest setting, then throttled back a little. He carefully took Eddie's hair out and brushed through the ends. It had been in a bun for ages, so at least it didn't get knotted.
"I don't really know much about how curly hair works, but-"
"Oh me either," Eddie interrupted. "Barely even knew I had it. Don't worry about me big boy, no special treatment needed."
"Oh you're getting special treatment, whether you like it or not," Steve said. "Tilt your head back."
And so Eddie did. And he would be flat out lying if he said that he didn't love how gentle Steve's hands felt running across his scalp. He would be lying if he said he didn't like being pampered, just a little. He would be a liar if he told you that this wasn't somehow sensual, or that he wished it had more meaning.
Something about the way Steve was massaging his scalp made him think there could be.
"I'm gonna block your forehead from the water, just warning you." Steve used a cup to get the water to the base of Eddie's scalp, he was thorough with the details and everything.
It made Eddie feel loved. That's new.
Eddie nearly blacked out until it was done. He just soaked it all in, feeling cared for. He had felt cared for before, but never loved, not by someone who wasn't obligated to.
"Why do you do all of this for me?" Eddie truly wanted to know.
"Why shouldn't I?" He replied, as if it was nothing.
"Nobody does." Eddie wanted to say more, but now wasn't the time to throw a pity party and cry in front of Steve Harrington.
"All the more reason to."
"Harrington," Eddie tried to sit up as he talked, "you don't-"
Steve pushed him back down by the chest, conditioner and water soaking into his shirt.
"Don't strain yourself, seriously. Let me rinse this out, then you're free to go back to whatever you were doing." He left one hand on Eddie's chest, not keeping him down, but just resting there. Like he forgot about it, but it felt intentional.
Eddie dragged his hand up to Steve's on his chest.
"Thank you. Really," was all he could muster up without those tears rushing back.
"Of course, Eddie. Wouldn't rather be anywhere else." He continued to work around the ends of Eddie's hair, slowly turning the water off and doing some final slow scrunching motions with the towel not around Eddie's shoulders. "You're all done. Let me help you up."
Taking Eddie's hand in one of his and lifting from Eddie's back, he got Eddie sitting up right. The hand on his back let go, but not the hand in Eddie's.
"Well? Anything you usually do that I can help with?" Steve asked.
"You've done enough," Steve got ready to cut him off, but Eddie beat him to the punch, "I can't do any more without bending over, which is off the table. Seriously, Stevie, you've done more than enough. You've been insane amounts giving and patient with me. You've given me enough."
"I wish I could give more."
"I know."
"I could give more." Steve offered, ready to give all he had in the world.
"Steve," Eddie said, some type of begging look in his eyes, "I don't want to read too much into this but you've offered me more than I could reasonably take. You've given me sanctuary, food, care, what more is there?"
"Love."
Steve laid it all out on the table. All he had left to give was hope that Eddie would take it.
"Can I kiss you?" Eddie asked.
"Please."
And when Eddie took it, it was magical. Just for a moment, all the pain, and bad memories, and nightmares, they just stopped. Suddenly, for a second of time, their was no ring of pain around Steve's neck, no searing, or scorching, or stabbing in Eddie's sides.
Maybe Eddie won't live in Steve's house forever, but he might live in this moment forever.
~~~~~
Thank you to @warlordess for giving the prompt in the comments of my last post! SO sorry it took so unbelievably long, but my show finally closed! Everyone, feel free to leave any prompts in my asks from now on! All of my previous posts as well as this one will be on AO3 soon, then I'm going to make a pinned post with my account! Thank you all so much for the patience you graced me with, hopefully it won't happen again!
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satubby · 6 months
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Yandere God Gojo headconons
[As promised, a bit late I know, but I needed my time to not cry for Satoru so an apology. So since I'm not good at describing powers and let's add to that Jujutsu Kaisen has mathematics, which I hate... I just won't go into his god-like powers]
This post comes from the previous idea, you can find it in my profile. Credits to the artist and me for the edition.
⚠️ Warning: This is MY interpretation of the character but it does not define the canon, I want to show my love for him (Fuck Gege for all I care) There may also be pronoun errors because damn my dyslexia affects my eyesight.
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On an ordinary night, your mother sent you to the mini supermarket, a place similar to convenience stores like pharmacies. 「More common in my native Mexico, such as an Oxxo.」
Unexpectedly, a curse/demon began to haunt you. Without knowing how, you ended up cornered in an alley, the rain adding a touch of desperation to the atmosphere. Exhausted, you tripped over a trash can, lacerating your leg in the fall.
The unimaginable happened when your blood, the fruit of the scrape, awakened a god enclosed within a bucket, multiple eyes arranged in a dice-like pattern 「Yeah, I fucking used 'It' you thought」. Your blood acted as a call for the imprisoned being lying in there.
Satoru, the god that lay dormant, awoke. Upon realizing your situation, he offered to help you, but not before uttering the words that would seal your fate: "Tell me, mortal, do you accept that I save you by giving me something precious? Yes or no, the choice is yours."
Given your young age of six and the impossibility of facing the dreadful monster that pursued you, you had no choice but to accept. How could you refuse? Hell, you were a brat who could barely carry your mother's bag of errands, much less fight that dreadful thing that wanted you dead.
And so the deal between you and the unknown god was sealed with…. a tongue kiss. 「Despite its polemical nature, it is crucial to the development of the plot」.
❀.°• ─ ─ ─ ─➢ Satoru, in his divine form, is an extraordinarily powerful being. Sometimes, his impressive abilities can lead you into complicated situations, such as when a simple sneeze from him transported you to another dimension. Such is his level of power. 「In this version, we will represent him as an invincible individual to explore his unrestricted potential…. P.S. I hate you Gege」 ❀.°• ─ ─ ─ ─➢ Gojo is often playful and teasing, he often jokes with you, even going so far as to claim that you are his "wife" although it sounds like a joke, he really means it. His attitude toward other people's opinions is indifferent. He enjoys showing affection, kissing and caressing you, although he has waited for you to reach adulthood before formally considering you his mate in public. ❀.°• ─ ─ ─ ─➢ When he is not using his 'real' form, we see him as the canonical Satoru, though obviously with Lovecraftian touches to his powers. Despite his divine nature, he exhibits a somewhat childish side, similar to what he shows in canon… BUT 100% times worse, as he has been alone and being powerful, he doesn't have much morals as he considers it stupid to abide by the rules of 'lesser beings'. Despite his playful and relaxed attitude, he hides a dark side. He is aware of how capable he is of destroying a city with a single finger, if he so desires. ❀.°• ─ ─ ─ ─➢ Handling his jealousy is not his strong point, given that he has always gotten what he wanted and not knowing how to deal with humans despite having spent millennia observing them or making deals before being 'sealed' 「More like sleeping」It always makes it difficult for him to respond to his own emotions. ❀.°• ─ ─ ─ ─➢ Since he is not human and was born in the void of nothingness and everything, he has wandered and fought in various places, often just for fun or out of sheer boredom. His reactions can be fickle and capricious. This Satoru is a mixture of his adolescent and adult stages, mostly acting like a spoiled brat and playful with you but when he is jealous or sentimental, he acts according to his divine position. ❀.°• ─ ─ ─ ─➢ When he feels jealous, his reaction is unpredictable. If the reason for his jealousy persists 「Examples are like a male human talking to you」 And already for that reason he might decide to eliminate the source of his discomfort. For this reason, you hardly interact with other people. It is intriguing how loving words and gestures can appease him…. Although sometimes that doesn't assure you that those poor souls who crossed words with you will be saved from him. ❀.°• ─ ─ ─ ─➢ As a divine being, he has the power to materialize anything you desire. His gifts have no limits, and he takes you wherever you want. Sometimes, on a mere whim, he grabs you and takes you on unexpected rides using his abilities. It is curious how he shows jealousy towards any thinking human being, and even animals, taking you back home without allowing the date to continue or any activity prior to his jealousy.
"Toru… for once, let me enjoy this vacation. If you take me somewhere, make it really worthwhile. I couldn't even ride the roller coaster just because the ticket booth clerk was a man…" You looked at him as he pretended not to have pulled you out of the amusement park just 5 minutes ago due to his jealousy.
"Come on, couldn't we go another time…? It's no big deal, you know I can take you anytime, why don't we cuddle instead of fighting, would you like me to shower you with kisses, mmh? Come on, my sweet bean mochi!!! I want to…" You looked at him, almost incredulous. You really doubt he'll let you go to a crowded amusement park. If you go, it will surely be when he's off duty or with a snap of his fingers, it's not for nothing that he can stop time.
"Even if you do that, it doesn't mean I'm no longer upset with you." You watched her pouting expression. Despite having six beautiful eyes and six arms, you didn't want to fall for his game.
Gojo was unwilling to listen to your complaints. He was in a bad mood, convinced that you would understand his position. He acted like a child seeking to get your attention to deflect your anger. And so, he devised a plan. He moved closer to you by climbing up on the edge of the bed. "Mochi, do you prefer something sweet or sour?"
"Do you think that's an appropriate question to change the subject? I'm still annoyed with you. Hey, let go of me!" You felt his firm embrace, laughing as he kissed your neck and his chest pressed against your back.
He took a lock of your hair behind your ear and fiddled with it in his mouth. A shiver ran through your body as his lips brushed your earlobe. "Why are you playing hard to get when you know I know you well? Besides, I know my jealousy doesn't affect you, and I'm going to make sure you're only mine." He laughed softly, pulling you closer to him.
"Satoru… That doesn't justify you threatening anyone who looks at me. I don't want to be embarrassed like the other day in the cafeteria, when you tried to hurt the cashier just because I ordered a cappuccino." You whispered as his six arms held you tighter and in different places, listening to his childish whimper as he buried his face in the back of your neck.
His behavior was becoming more aggressive and lustful, making him dangerous. He held you in such a way that you could not move. He looked at you with playful eyes, sketching a smile.
"So what if I'm jealous? If I'm honest with you, if another guy tried to get your attention, I'd be sure to eliminate any interest he showed." A smirk formed on his face. You knew that ugly smile well, a cruel and possessive one, dealing with his jealousy sometimes exhausted you … you had no choice since your soul was bound to him.
He kissed you passionately and caressed your body, his touch was too pleasurable to resist, your flushed but annoyed face said it all. He didn't mind at all acting that way in public if it meant you would still be his. "You will always be my only princess….. I love you, my precious mochi," he whispered softly before delivering another intense kiss, this time on your lips, his arms frolicking with you and bringing an even more severe blush to your face.
NSFW:
••┈┈┈••✦ This Satoru loves to make you scream, if Sukuna in his original form can grind you to exhaustion, our albino won't let you rest. ••┈┈┈••✦ He loves having you in front of his cock, the worst thing is that he can create more if he wants to. Let's add that he has six arms, each one can overstimulate you, forget to mention that Gojo is 213 cm / 7'1 feet, you are a midget next to him. So his cock and fingers are the size of your arms, but he can fucking manipulate reality and adjust your pussy to his size. ••┈┈┈••✦ He loves you riding his cock while he hears you moaning, sometimes you end up kissing him. He loves you sucking him while he pulls your hair. His hands usually go from your breasts to your waist [Sorry I'm not good at writing NSFW] All while you swallow his cock, his fingers have claws and putting them all the way in hurts but in the pleasure you end up giving priority to your lust, forgetting the pain. ••┈┈┈••✦ Honestly, Satoru can make your body not get tired so easily, but he is not cruel so he can set limits for you. He especially loves to bite, while you scratch him all over the place. ••┈┈┈••✦ His aftercare is incredibly gentle, he kisses and lulls you as if you were a baby, and how could he not? When he leaves you all exhausted down there and you can't feel your legs. Sometimes he gets to the point where his excitement clouds his judgement, ending up with your bones broken.
In general, having a relationship with him is like going on a roller coaster ride: You can feel a rush of various emotions and in turn want more of it even though you know it's scary to a certain extent. Just avoid making Satoru jealous and everything will be fine [What won't be fine are your mouth, your ass and pussy]
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Tag list for those readers who gave heart to my previous publication:
@cyppelizabeth
@nunezs-stuff, @istanuwow, @crazynocturnalkiki, @gleski, @halalangyala, @milotoby, @candyqueen10, @unramdommas2004, @ermy1234, @erens-bbyy, @muichirolover, @potatofriesthings, @sobbing-leave-me-alone-bots, @flaming-vulpix,@cyrs,@honeygonebads-blog,@smoovehunie, @toxicbabygirl, @steppin-by-sunflowers, @serafina-nyx, @fav1mika, @bitchycherryblaze, @kals05, @rainbowpillbug0, @2kimmin4ever, @regalillegal,@zainabismelodramatic @starberrytarts,
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visualtaehyun · 3 months
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Pronouns, my beloved!
Disclaimer: not a native Thai speaker, still learning 🙏
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นี่คุณจะไม่เลือกผมจริง ๆ ใช่ไหม /nee, khun ja mai leuuak pom jing jing chai mai?/
-> คุณ /khun/ = polite, formal 2nd pers. pronoun -> ผม /pom/ = polite, formal, respectful male 1st pers. pronoun
As Mahasamut is the younger one, he might just keep using ผม /pom/ throughout the entire show, just as Sky did in LITA. What he calls Tongrak is surely gonna change though! คุณ /khun/ feels too distant for P'May characters - even LomNuea in Wedding Plan, who met in a professional context and long kept using คุณ /khun/, ended up switching to the more familiar and informal พี่ /phi/ to refer to Lom.
So my predictions include:
a variation on his name, e.g. Rak, instead of any pronoun (like Prapai calling Sky just Sky, no pronouns), or later down the line maybe just ที่รัก /thee rak/ (= lit. beloved, comparable to darling, honey etc.) as it's sweet and would be a lovely switcheroo from Tongrak ต้องรัก /dtawng rak/ (= have to love)
a more intimate pronoun like เธอ /ter/ (based on YiwaMarine from Wedding Plan foregoing seniority by having younger Rine call her older girlfriend เธอ /ter/ for most of the show)
or simply พี่ /phi/ (as a 2nd pers. pronoun) which- I was just considering how that might not be sweet enough for a P'May top but then the sheer potential of P'Rak พี่รัก /phi rak/ sounding so close to ที่รัก /thee rak/ occurred to me and now I'm gonna need that to happen!!
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ต่อให้ผู้ชายทั้งโลกเหลือแค่นายคนเดียวอะ ฉัน ก็ ไม่ เอา /dtaaw hai phuu chaai thang lohk leuua khaae naai khohn diiao a- chan. gaaw. mai. ao./)
-> นาย /naai/ = informal male 2nd pers. pronoun (it's kind of filed away as the male equivalent to เธอ /ter/ in my head, even though เธอ /ter/ is perfectly usable regardless of gender but might sound too flirty to Tongrak, maybe?) -> ฉ���น /chan/ = informal, familiar 1st pers. pronoun, not respectful or polite but also not impolite; used when speaking to someone younger/of lower status or between equals, is used predominantly by women, and in turn by men when talking to women
I love this choice so much! 1) Because both ฉัน /chan/ and นาย /naai/ rarely make an appearance in BL, from male characters, even though they delight me every time I do hear it in a BL (e.g. NuerSyn in Cutie Pie calling each other นาย /naai/ for a good long while), and 2) because ฉัน /chan/ can give both Mafia Boss (as can นาย /naai/) as well as Sassy and no, I shan't elaborate 5555
My prediction is that these too might change. ฉัน /chan/ here feels like- attitude? almost? Like both a level of self-confidence as well as some sass so I'd wager that mellows out into:
พี่ /phi/ (as a 1st pers. pronoun)
or he might just as well keep using ฉัน /chan/ (if paired with เธอ /ter/ for example that's like prime romance trope right there lol)
or, which I think is most likely, he'll just use his own name or variation thereof, e.g. Rak.
I remember seeing Peat tweet something aaaages ago when the announcement for Love Sea first dropped where he called Fort 'Mut' -
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/diiao juuhr gan loei, ai moot/ = See you then, Ai'Mut!
Except this is spelled differently from Mahasamut's name because หมุด /moot/ (= pin/needle) is the phonemic spelling of the last syllable in มหาสมุทร /ma haa sa moot/. So! I think it's entirely possible that Tongrak's gonna call him Mut หมุด or Nong Mut น้องหมุด in the future.
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คุณต้องรักมหาสมุทร /khun dtawng rak mahaa samoot/
= Khun Tongrak Mahasamut = You have to love the ocean. = You have to love me.
The Thai title is ต้องรักมหาสมุทร /dtawng rak mahaa samoot/ = TongrakMahasamut; Gotta Love the Sea; Gotta Love Mahasamut
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oleander-nin · 7 months
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Horrortober Day 23- Pretend(Yandere Rise Raph x Reader)
A/N, not important: Any criticism is welcome, constructive or not. This is supposed to be a gender neutral reader, so if I screwed up somewhere, please tell me.
-Ollie
CW: loss of will to live, dark themes, yan themes
Words: 877
Summary: Raph finally broke you down
Your smaller arms move with Raph’s hand, a small smile on his face while he positions you on his bed. You were nested in his room, the piles of stuffed animals and pillows nearly drowning you from the sheer amount. Your eyes were glassy, doll-like and vacant. Whatever love for life you once had was gone, Raph’s suppressive hold smothering the light you once had. Raph didn’t mind, his smile widening while your head lolls to the side and you breathe out slowly. You were perfect now, so sweet and compliant to whatever he wanted.
Your heart didn’t quicken when Raph came near anymore, nor when he lost his temper and raised his voice. You didn’t even cry anymore when he touched you, now just sinking into the only comfort you were allowed with acceptance. Raph appreciated your new attitude, proud of himself for breaking you down. This was what he wanted, for you to be safe and happy with him. He can’t help but be pleased with how well his plan went, especially since he didn’t even need to ask his brothers for help. He kept you all on his own.
Raph shifts the blankets on top of you, smiling as he watches you struggle to keep your glassy eyes open. Watching you doze off was always a pleasure, something he had for himself that he'd never have to share. Your nose twitches as you breathe, your breath the only thing that separates you from the dolls and stuffies that surround you. You're completely still, only moving when Raph directs you.
Raph watches you for a moment more, smiling softly as you start to doze. He notices your cracked lips, the way your breath is slightly wheezy. His smile turns to a frown, his hands rubbing his wrists raw as he exits the room to make for the kitchen. He barely greets his brothers as he passes them, his brow line etched into the proclaimed “Raph Chasm”. He wasn’t sure the last time you drank water, especially since you didn’t ask for things anymore. It was the only downside he could find to your new personality. He missed your voice, even when all you used to do was yell.
Raph enters the kitchen, nodding a hello to his youngest brother while he cooks. The smell of the kitchen makes Raph’s mouth water, the soup simmering on the stove making his stomach rumble. Raph shakes himself out of the food trance, directing his attention back to the cabinet as he grabs a glass. He fills it up with ice and water from the sink, listening to the ice crack in the cup while the warmer water lands on it.
“How are they?” Mikey asks, still stirring his soup and making sure it didn't burn. Raph hums, grinning.
“They’re good. Just getting them some water.” Raph replies, his eyes glued to the rising water level of the cup. He turns off the sink, pulling the glass back and starts to walk out, taking careful steps to not spill the water. Mikey laughs as he watches his giant brother, the way he was trying to tiptoe through the kitchen making more of a mess than if he walked normally. Raph makes it back to his room with minimal spilling, his face twisted in regret from filling the water so high.
As he sets the glass of water down on the bedside table, Raph frowns when he looks at you. The way you were sitting, the way your eyes were closed and how you sank into the plushies around you. He was no longer able to tell the difference between you, and the stuffed animals lining his bed. You were still in the same position he left you, your eyes closed and face pale, sweat gathering on your brow. 
Raph brings his hand to your forehead, expecting it to be hot, but it was normal. You weren’t sick from what Raph could tell. He shakes you softly, watching your big, glassy eyes open with a smile. He helps you sit up, your limbs rubber and limp. His touch is gentle, lifting your chin easily like it would crack if he was too harsh. He lifted the water to your lips, letting you drink from the cup. Your hands move on their own for the first time, instinct kicking in as water dribbles from your mouth at the clumsy assistance. You take the cup and finish drinking, wiping the excess liquid from your mouth. Raph ruffles your hair as he takes the cup away from you, putting it back on the table. He’d have to start bringing you more, not wanting you to wither away on him.
You settle back down while Raph sits on the edge of the bed, his hand on yours as you tilt back and your eyes close again. You blend in with the other dolls, still, calm, and quiet. Your breathing is so still it seems to have stopped, Raph only comforted in your life by the feel of your heart beat below the skin of your wrist. Raph closes his eyes, a pang of guilt flowing through him for just a moment. He misses when you didn’t have to pretend that you were still alive.
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tokidokitokyo · 4 months
Text
ことわざ 16/?
ことわざ are Japanese proverbs, and I have listed some basic proverbs, their equivalents in English, and a rough translation of the meanings of the Japanese phrase.
There is a test for ことわざ called the ことわざ能力検定 (ことわざのうりょくけんてい) and these are the phrases that appear in level 9 or 9級 (10 being the lowest level). For the time being, try one or two of these out the next time you speak with a native Japanese speaker!
ことわざ (こと検9級): 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 More ことわざ (こと検10級): 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10
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歯が浮く
はがうく
cringe-inducing
causing an uncomfortable feeling akin to a loose tooth
歯が立たない
はがたたない
to stand no chance against (opponent/challenge)
teeth cannot stand against the hardness
鼻息が荒い
はないきがあらい
expressing passion and excitement
breathing heavily through the nose
鼻が利く
はながきく
to have a knack for finding money-making opportunities
nose is effective in sniffing out money-making opportunities
鼻が高い
はながたかい
to be filled with pride
hold your nose high
鼻であしらう
はなであしらう
to treat someone with contempt
signal contempt using your nose
鼻で笑う
はなでわらう
to scoff
laugh through your nose
鼻に掛ける
はなにかける
to brag, boast or show off
hang prominently on your nose
鼻に付く
はなにつく
to become tiresome
tiresome behavior that becomes like a bad stench that sticks in your nose
鼻持ちならない
はなもちならない
to become unbearable
bad attitude/behavior likened to a stench so bad you can't stand it even when holding your nose
鼻を明かす
はなをあかす
to outwit, get the jump on, catch off guard
reveal your nose and surprise your opponent
鼻を折る
はなをおる
to take someone down a peg
break someone's nose
鼻を突く
はなをつく
putrid, rank, foul
a smell that stabs the nose
鼻を鳴らす
はなをならす
to whine in an attempt to get your way
to sound your nose
歯に衣着せぬ
はにきぬきせぬ
blunt, straightforward, without 'sugar-coating' it
without applying coating to your teeth
歯の抜けたよう
はのぬけたよう
appearing empty or deserted
like a mouth with its teeth removed
歯の根が合わない
はのねがあわない
teeth chattering from cold/fear
unable to align the base of your teeth
腹が黒い
はらがくろい
deceptive, conniving, black-hearted (also, 腹黒い)
black stomach (disposition)
腹が据わる
はらがすわる
to feel confident
have your stomach (courage) steadied
腹が立つ
はらがたつ
to get angry
have your stomach (disposition) get riled up
腹が減っては戦はできぬ
はらがへってはいくさはできぬ
you can't work on an empty stomach
you can't do battle when hungry
腹に据え兼ねる
はらにすえかねる
to have all you can stand; to be fed up
unable to settle your stomach (disposition)
腹の皮が捩れる
はらのかわがよじれる
side-splitting
makes you laugh so hard the skin of your stomach twists
腹の虫が治まらない
はらのむしがおさまらない
to have all you can stand; to be fed up
unable to settle your stomach worm (from ancient belief that Three Demonic Worms live in the head, chest and stomach and monitor the host's behavior)
腸が煮え繰り返る
はらわたがにえくりかえる
to have your blood boil
have your organs boiling repeatedly
腹を探る
はらをさぐる
to try and infer what someone is thinking/feeling
search someone's stomach (disposition)
腹を割る
はらをわる
to open up (and converse frankly)
split your stomach (emotional center) open
歯を食いしばる
はをくいしばる
to grin and bear it
bite and lock your teeth
膝を交える
ひざをまじえる
to get together for a friendly chat
sit knees crossed and chat
人の口には戸は立てられぬ
ひとのくちにとはたてられぬ
people are gonna talk
you can't erect a door over a person's mouth
一肌脱ぐ
ひとはだぬぐ
to help in any way you can
remove your top and expose your upper body skin to signal intent to get serious and help
腑に落ちない
ふにおちない
unsatisfying (conclusion or explanation)
does not fall in line with your gut (better judgment)
臍で茶を沸かす
へそでちゃをわかす
you're killing me!; that's rich!
that makes me laugh so hard, I could boil tea on my bellybutton! usually said in a mocking manner)
臍を曲げる
へそをまげる
to get cranky
hunched over grumpy making your bellybutton bend
下手な鉄砲も数撃てば当たる
へたなてっぽうもかずうてばあたる
given enough tries, anyone can succeed
even a poorly handled cannon, fired enough times will hit the mark by sheer chance
下手の考え休むに似たり
へたのかんがえやすむににたり
an idiot in thought may as well be napping
a poor attempt at thinking is the same as just resting
下手の横好き
へたのよこずき
a glutton for punishment
unskilled at something, but you insist on liking it
臍を噬む
ほぞをかむ
to regret bitterly
using the futility of trying to chew your own bellybutton as a metaphor for the futility of agonizing over the past
骨折り損の草臥れ儲け
ほねおりぞんのくたびれもうけ
a whole lot of effort for a whole lot of nothing
work til you suffer broken bones and earn only exhaustion
骨が折れる
ほねがおれる
difficult or intensive (work)
work that will break your bones
骨身を削る
ほねみをけずる
to work yourself to the bone
shave down your body and bones with work
骨を埋める
ほねをうずめる
to live out your life somewhere; to dedicate your life to a pursuit
bury your bones somewhere
骨を折る
ほねをおる
to work hard without complaint
break your bones to accomplish something or support someone
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imaslutforwritingshit · 4 months
Note
oh my god you're like the only writer i've found whose requests are open rn
so basically ive been reading this rlly good book where the male protagonist is like rlly tall and super sweet and a hockey player and now i very desperately need ethan landry as that with like a short reader who maybe has some attitude
you can add smut (preferably) but if you can't think of anything for it it's fine!
OKAY
(Hockey Ethan Landry x fem. short reader, that ice skates)
(Part One- teasing, plot)
Sorry to the requester! This took a while like four months 😭 but luckily it’s skating season!
Ethan Landry ❤️‍🔥
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Julie Weston 🤍
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I started the routine again. It’s the only thing that keeps me sane. Wake up, grab my skates, go on the ice. I forget all of my problems when I skate, letting them fall under my feet as I rake the blades into powdery ice. Today, the rink is empty, given no one comes this early. It’s 5:00 in the morning, and if any person would be here right now, my guess is that they would be a sports player, considering how insane they all are.
Skating has been a part of my life forever, since I was a child, even. I don’t let myself think about how long it’s been, how much has changed. I just ride, to quote Lana, whose music I immediately put on, raising the volume of my AirPods to (almost) an extreme level. I begin the comfortable act of sliding my legs, bending my knees, then faster, until the ice is blending and whirling under my skates, and I am speeding in the rink, distracted by the music in my ears. I do a backwards spiral, grabbing my leg and twirling, then a backwards spin. I feel elevated, euphoric, and then, I feel a hard wall slam into my backside.
I trip over my skates, and fall to the ice, hearing my leggings rip from the impact. Groaning, I push myself up from my hands. Not blood, just a scrape on my legs. I sigh, and feel that my AirPods fell out of my ears when I had slammed to the ground. As I searched the ice for them, a low, gravely tone behind me scoffed.
I jumped, immediately turning unsuccessfully to meet the person. I stumbled, and straightened my legs out of fear, like a small deer in the wintertime. But no sheer amount of embarrassment could prepare me for who I saw behind me.
Ethan.
Ethan Landry.
When he met my expression, he smiled, his dark eyes glinting with the satisfaction of my surprise. His hair was messy, as if he had just woke up from bed, like me. He was wearing a black hoodie, and grey sweatpants, which seemed normal, but what stuck out to me was the hockey stick in his hands.
“I’m not gonna play with you, you know.” I stammered, pointing at the stick.
Ethan laughed smugly, and I swear I could’ve just slapped him then and there. He tapped the base of the stick on the ground. “Yeah? I was hoping you would.” He dropped his eyes to my smaller body, and I straightened my shoulders in an effort to be taller. “You certainly have the…build of a hockey player.”
I rolled my eyes, and huffed, grabbing my AirPods awkwardly in front of him. I could feel his stare down my back, and I really wished he wasn’t in direct view of my ass. I moved on the ice faster than I thought possible to get away from him, finding a corner where I practicing skating drills in an effort to sit with my thoughts. Ethan was moving a puck casually on the other side of the rink, and I made certain that he didn’t see me staring.
When I was in elementary school, Ethan Landry was every girl’s crush. How could he not be? With his dreamy eyes, his soft, tender voice, cute curls? I could remember every friend I ever had begging him for his number, or to sit with him during lunchtime. But no, not me. I saw who he really was. He was cocky, so much so that every time I walked by him, he would ask me if I was ready to admit I liked him. But I never did, and even if I would, he would never hear about it. Ethan would pester me, throw dodgeballs at my shoulder, tap my thumb repeatedly in 7up, until I glared at him, ultimately losing the game.
And I was fine hating Ethan Landry. I enjoyed it. I liked knowing that I was the only one who knew what he was- a playboy.
In 5th grade, I had a friend named Allie. She always tried to convince me to “confess” that I liked Ethan. She told me nobody could resist him, and there’s no point in me pretending that I didn’t like him. But it didn’t matter how many times I told her I wouldn’t. She already had a plan.
Allie wrote a fake love letter, filled with the grossest things a 5th grader would possibly write, or know about. Allie signed the letter with my name; putting it on Ethan’s desk the morning of English class. I will never forget the look on Ethan’s face after she told me what she did. It’s the first time I saw him blush.
Probably because Allie wrote, “I want to sleep with you,” in the letter, even if she didn’t know what that meant yet.
Needless to say, I never talked to that girl again, until she moved schools. And Ethan stopped bothering me after that. Only recently, in high school, the taunting and teasing has come up again. And with it, memories of 5th grade. I just need him out of my life. And the worst part is, he’s still just as fawned over, if not more, than before. Every girl I ever knew had once crushed on him. He’s gotten significantly taller, around 6’3, and his form filled out nicely after enrolling into hockey 7 years ago. I never went to any of his games, and honestly, I don’t care to. He’s not my friend, my enemy, or my lover. He’s nothing to me.
I took a break from skating, huffing over the side of the rink walls. I heard him skate over to me, and I straightened my body again, my heart suddenly faster. I didn’t dare look at him.
“Hey.” His voice was soft, hesitant. I ignored him. “Hey.” I only stared at him, feigning boredom. He gritted his teeth. “Julie, can I talk to you?”
“No.” I turned around and began skating on the ice. I heard Ethan groan behind me and follow my trail.
“What happened to us?” His voice was light, but the words cut deep.
I whirled around, putting my hands in my hips to seem like my fingers weren’t shaking.
“What do mean, us? There has been no us, there will never be an us,” I exclaim, skating backwards. “The last time I checked, the only thing you ever wanted us to be was the boy who makes fun of the girl, and the girl who loveeeddd the boy so much!” I mocked him, rolling out the word with an irritating gesture. I huffed in cold air, and whirled around for the final time, taking my time to exit the rink.
As I clanked my skates on the warm carpet of the bench area, I looked back, seeing Ethan’s eyes on mine. He was breathing heavily, his chest heaving up and down, and butterflies warmed my core. I forced my eyes down, and began disassembling my skates, stuffing them in the light pink bag I got for my 18th birthday.
“You know that I knew about Allie, right?”
His deep voice shocked me out of my state of pitiful thoughts. I shook my hair out of my face, and stared up, Ethan suddenly nearing the wall that separated the rink from the sitting area. I slid on my boots, and wiped melted water droplets from my pants as I stood.
“What?” My voice was weary. I just wanted to be home. School was tomorrow, and I would prefer to keep my Sunday Ethan-free from now on.
He stepped into the area, and sat down on the bench opposite to me. He was out of breath, red cheeked, with a smooth glaze of sweat gleaming on his sharp jawline. As he dusted off his sweats and kicked off his skates, he scoffed.
“I knew that Allie wrote the letter.” Silence filled the heavy room, only the heaters buzzing from afar the sound I could hear. Ethan finally stood up, black sneakers on his feet. He unzipped his jacket slowly, his eyes burning onto mine. As he stripped his body, I could see the muscles lining fabric underneath his shirt. I had to clench my thighs, bite my lip, not to go crazy.
Because, the secret was?
I’ve been attracted to Ethan Landry since the day I met him. And I’ve been trying, trying so hard to convince myself that I wasn’t.
He tugged on his sleeves, and casually zipping his bag as he talked. “She told me that she wrote it. And the reason that I was ignoring you after all of it wasn’t because I was embarrassed that you wanted to sleep with me.”
He stood near me, now towering over my frail body. I can’t believe how much taller he got, and he closed space between us, until I was up against the wall.
My nerves were burning, and his eyes were dark, fire pooling in his dangerously beautiful irises. He leaned in, his husky voice in my ear. “It’s because I was upset that you didn’t want to.”
My mouth dropped. “You were ten, and you knew what sleeping with people was?” That wasn’t on my mind. The thought that he would want me too… it drove me insane. I rubbed my legs together harder, pressure in my core.
Ethan laughed, but in a way that almost sounded painful. He leaned back, grazing my body with his eyes. “Jesus, not then.” His face suddenly got serious, as he rested his eyes on my hips, my breasts, and then my lips again.
“Now.”
My eyes opened wider than I could have imagined, and I gasped, letting breath open my lungs.
“Y-you want to sleep with me now?” I straightened my back, my eyes drilled into his.
His expression glinted with dark lust, a smile forming on his face as he took in my shock.
“Yeah.” He whispered, grabbing my wrist and sliding my arm over my head.
“Is that a problem?”
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