#i wonder how many people know this is where 'he would not fucking say that' comes from now

[woooshworldtwo]

AT A LOSS

TAGS: WIFE!READER [Originally just mentioned once in dialogue but otherwise just spouse is used when describing said relationship between characters], Husband!Caracalla x Reader x Unrequited!Geta, Mentions of sex, Brief mentions of slavery [gladiators in the Colosseum], Brief mentions of animal cruelty [animals participating in the Colosseum], Historical inaccuracies, I'm not sure what else.

FIRST NOTE: I think I wanted to try accentuating the care he wants to give reader and therefore ends up treating those around him as what he sees them as- disposable and like shit. Geta is a TERRIBLE man so I guess I just wanted him to be pining for someone he knows is out of reach. I was gonna make it a series to like Caracalla x partner reader x unrequited Geta. if this is the first chapter, ngl idk where to trail off from there. i kind of write while im smoking just to fuck around so maybe i could write at least five-ish chapters if i think of a good enough plot. WHAT DO YOU PEOPLE THINK?? who knows i could even do the same with Caracalla, it could make sense cause he literally kills his brother in the movie

SECOND NOTE: pov ur me, high off like five tokes and u watch Gladiator 2 the day it comes out on Paramount+. BOOM, obsessed, love it, don't even care about the historical inaccuracies. For some reason, as someone as not all there like Caracalla is, having that deep relationship with his brother, once he notices that lil interest Geta has, or even just the doubts of others finally becoming to a point where my guy has to LOCK IN to keep his partner w him. not cause they don't love them, I think it would be cause he loves THEM too much. I'm talking bristling at the notion whenever he thinks of them together. JUST UNSPOKEN TENSION. do u guys enjoy that?

THIRD NOTE: unfortunately, i have more to talk about but no one to say it to so ur my audience. yelling into the mic i ask, do you guys think I should write porn of Caracalla and reader FUCKING?? idk if it would even include Geta- IT COULD, WHATEVER YOU GUYS WANT. I sort of just wanted to explore writing intimacy as an actual action instead described as thoughts. leave ur thoughts on what u guys think on that too bc im literally so curious.

PLEASE DON'T COPY MY WORK, I BET YOU

Summer in your lungs, and alcohol swimming in your stomach; Caracalla wonders if he's seen beauty such as yours. Never alone in the hours of the night, the lovers he takes soon notice how harder he is to satisfy, to sedate into a warm puddle wrapped in expensive sheets- instead becoming unflinching to the pleasures that usually melt his tortured mind.

Intense with his emotions, he swears this affection was there from first glance. Taken sight of you at in your hazy glory; the clothes accentuating the shade of your skin, the warmth of your eyes, it only takes months before you two wed.

From there, days are blissful. Misery always follows, but he finds with your company at his side, falling into the episodes of madness are rarer and rarer.

Perhaps it's the sweetness of your soul mending what his lacks, or having the closeness of your body distances the pestering thoughts appearing out of thin air. No matter what is it, with his claws dug into your being- he refuses to let go.

Dimmed by what other's consider insanity, it's difficult not to see Caracalla's growing lucidness. Coming face to face with it, Geta realizes any foes and enemies of Rome has never been as close as his brother has to the inner workings of his mind.

Divided by grace, the affection for you has been its limit. As the eldest, Caracalla bears the pitying glances from other's in the palace; to have the responsibilities laid on Geta is blasphemy, but who else can handle its weight when his mind is in two?

Who else to lessen its everlasting ache if not you? For that reason, such as many others, is why he cannot risk this becoming what he has grown familiar with- sharing with his brother.

Holding the same curiosity he did in the faint moments of childhood, his Adam's Apple bobs faintly- and when you look to follow its movements before returning your gaze to him: a faint shiver is felt and repressed in that same breath. "Caracalla?"

Asking in a murmur, he knows what you're referring to. Living with you these past handful of months, he can recall the number of times you've cut each conversation he's thought out into nothing more than small talk. In one worded questions, he cannot help but admire the relaxed sight of you.

So much so, he allows you to each time. Tossing the unspoken plans of connection for small talk, he nods. A hint of a smile is seen, and alone from that, you beam back at him.

Genuine like the sun, to continue seeing it, it makes it easy for him to keep spew out half thought words in hopes something he says would land. "He will arrive shortly, do not worry.", it ends with your name, echoing from his mouth, and although the God's have given him the same glory they themselves hold at their fingertips; nothing has sounded as holy.

Bounded by faith, the prayers he spills are ingrained in the folds of his brain, but once consumed in these times of power, he wonders if he should dare step closer to the soul he swears should beat for him.

"... Geta?", Unknowing for how much time has past, the beaming smile you once held is melted into a small frown. Quietly urging him to the present like he's seen you do with his brother, there's a warmth blooming in the hallow part of his chest.

Cherishing the brief concern, it only seems to remind him what Caracalla has naturally and what he takes the scraps of.

Still leaned back into the expensive marble, the wall itself is a pale enough color to forget about, instead focusing on the features he, too, fantasizes of in passing moments alone.

"Where did you go?", Too familiar with speaking to the other emperor, the question is thoughtless when spoken, yet its weight is felt nonetheless. "Nowhere. Just here.. Are you enjoying yourself?", Taking a pause, he eventually speaks again. It's done when walking to the the throne nearing Caracalla's; the one you sit in.

"Quite the spectacle.", Your eyes peer down at the sight below; bloodshed in the Colosseum's sand doesn't make your stomach twist like it once did, however when watching captured men swing weapons- and seeing another one fall, you look to him again.

Sitting at his own throne, you find his eyes already on you; a quirk upturning on his lips to show the pleased buzz your words give him. Gladiators from conquered lands, their purpose in Rome is to win their survival and amuse any passing visitors. Yet in the past year or so, since your arrival, he's found a deeper sense of pride at their display.

Growing passed the Senator's praise, passed continuing his parents past teachings, he has found serenity in the amazement you hold so clearly.

Seeing your wonder at the captured animals; their stature towering over the sand's flat ground, using its strength to trample over any competitors- he finds himself chasing the occasional bursts of attention he manages to keep with in your magenta sunlight.

Never promising loyalty to anyone; he chases it when you're unable to give it, the mess of concubines and courtesans who he cannot remember the names nor the faces of, only remembering their similarities to you- their purpose has been asked for more as of late, and neglected all the same soon after.

No matter if it was seeing a person with hair similar to yours, a familiar sounding voice, even just dressed in clothing resembling your own; they were sought out after in hopes of finding you in them.

He finds it only lasts briefly.

Of course sex is endless, at the call of his voice and at the stop of a groan; services are there to satisfy whatever craving he has. But after each round of breathlessness, he finds that hunger for what is missing growing into something insatiable.

Hours spent, feeling their bodies, picturing what your own must look like underneath the white moonlight casting into his bedchambers. Each thrust is heavy with yearning he cannot mend, moaning for warmth he cannot have; he damns Caracalla in those times for finding you first before he did.

Perhaps then would you be his spouse. To bed you the same way his brother does would be true nirvana, to hear those same whimpers he knows you're able to make, to feel you shiver and tighten around him the same way those people do; it's what he longs for.

He's certain then he'd be more than just rough, chasing whatever high is made in a blurry of orgasms- it becomes difficult to differentiate who is with him and who is imagined; not when his eyes are shut and your image is all he sees in its darkness. Tenderness is taught, and if his brother was able to learn to extend that same to you; there is no doubt he'd do the same.

"Are you enjoying it?", Turning your focus back onto Geta, his answer is a hum. The sound is husky from passing thoughts, and strain for what should be hidden; he takes a moment to gather his words.

"I always favor your company, the spectacle is merely entertainment.", Repeating what you said only minutes ago, the unexpressed emotions behind it is registered in your mind- and although brushed off originally, that denial you have becomes harder to not believe Geta's feelings becoming more noticeable in the time spent at his brother's side.

"The ambience of cheering Roman's, animals in pain, and dying men; no wonder we have such lively conversations in these times.", Another quality of yours he finds endearing is your dryness. The harshness soaked into your veins from being raised by your family has not changed you the way it has him he notices; viewing the cruelties of Rome in whatever light you could shed, he once again almost smiles, a quirk of his lips turning upwards showing.

"Complaining to the emperor for the privileges he's given you? What an ungrateful wife you are.", Breaking out into a smile, what is said is anything but malicious. Leaving Caracalla unmentioned; unsaid, his mind is soothed from its ache, mending itself when remembering it's just you and him- hidden away.

Alone in a place where he can pretend you two are more than in-laws, there's a warm stirring at the sound of your laughter. Filled with humor you express so freely, it reminds him of conversations with your father throughout the years; his stories of your youth.

Defiant in ways he wishes he'd seen, and mischievous in ways he knows you still are; the only changes is now you're not tangible. Yet, lost in affections like he never got to be as a boy, he doesn't mind who he's face to face with now. Not in the slightest.

"Forgive my insolence, emperor; I plead for it.", Clearly you speak to Caracalla too much because the shiver trailing up his spine goes directly into that heated feeling in his abdomen. Aware you're unknowing to the effect you have, it only worsens at the hint of playfulness heard.

"Oh, you're forgiven. The God's have extended their mercy onto you today, but be wry, they could change their mind.", Unwilling to give into the arousal brewing, the tension he's created in his body, he replies with a smile- one that lingers too long.

Mischief isn't needed to be noticed in the palace, not with the two emperor's having their souls intertwining themselves with your own- no longer being unheard by those around you, that streak remains. It brings an amusement greater than bloodshed to Geta, and even more so to Caracalla. Smoothness of your words he swears is coated with the sweetest of wines; it disarms what would be seen as scrutiny as nothing more than a jest.

With humor being forgotten in such trying times; outside of what the Colosseum offers, and outside of the different celebrations of another conquered land- Geta finds your spirit is lightening to what is constantly dampening in his.

Shouts of Roman's are heard, like you predicted, and another man falls. However, with neither of you truly paying attention to the sight; their deaths were not offered the same graciousness you're given so carelessly, so frivolously: and when one of the last remaining takes their bow to surrender- only then do you look away.

To see your eyes of amusement grow into something unreadable, his own smile dims into a frown.

Standing from the throne, his hands rest on the Bisellium's railing, he grips onto it tightly when seeing below. Blood stains the sand as always; the deceased laid out over it in the afternoon heat, and the two lone man kneel. Meters away from one another, your eyes flicker between them, and soon Geta speaks up again.

Mercy is yelled in the air, and when he asks you, his voice is quieter than intended, "Shall we show mercy?"

Sparking what was lost, you nod, and another smile is seen, "Mercy."

Prayers do not solve what is inevitable, he finds, not when the God's blood soars through his body. The threat of rebellion, and the stings of betrayal, that mask that hides it all becomes wavering whenever he's with you; wishing to you like he did as a child to the God's for power, to worship you in ways he only should deities- it almost feels blasphemous.

Even more so now, when you don't understand the importance behind what he says; the grace he offers, the laughs he lets slip out- it is only the beginning of what he could promise you.

FOURTH NOTE: Now that you've made it this far, I wanna like drift away from what I was writing on my old account. it was just small paragraphs, but writing on a laptop just HITS DIFFERNT- literal hours spent doing this shit. I don't rlly wanna take requests bc i feel like my time is just too hectic for that, BUT I WOULD LOVE to hear your guys thoughts!! Okay, small series on these characters- Quinn Mossbacher, Simon Kalivoda, Ethan Russell, DIMITRI KRAVIOFF, DANIEL MARKOWITZ, JASON HOCHBERG, and finally our beloved; Caracalla. bad part is I haven't most of the movies they're in, so i don't want it to be inaccurate.

FIFTH NOTE: currently i'm writing a Johnny Storm fic series inspired by the new Fantastic Four trailer (writing the third chapter of what could be a five or even eight part series if I get to understand that franchise better), an Eddie Muson fic mainly just to fuck around and post that old one I never got a chance to. also an Adrian Chase fic i found on my laptop, another one for Koby from the one piece live action (I was inspired when the show first came out), and joe goldberg

FINAL NOTE: I've wanted to get into watching Yellowjackets. LOVE THE SHOW. Another thing I wanted to ask bc when I write for women characters, i like to write them as WLW. SO would you guys like it if i also wrote for Iris (Companion), SISTER BARNES (Heretic), Jinx (Arcane), Lucy Maclean (Fallout), Rhiannon Lewis (Sweetpea)?? one day if i sell out and get a membership to Prime or those silly addons; I WILL.

[thewadapan]

School Days review

Yeah, School Days is actually pretty good after all.

When you google "School Days", on the first page of results there's a reddit thread asking "hey, why do people hate this show?" OP gives a succinct summary of the show's themes and praises it for its tight focus and psychological depth.

The comments in that thread are fucking crazy. The top-voted comment includes this absolute gem: "Sekai is an emotionally manipulative bitch". Some users gesture towards a faint understanding that School Days is a deconstruction of harem anime, but almost to a one they claim the character writing is unrealistic. Nobody seems able to look past the show's metatextual meaning to just look at it on a straightup subtextual level—that is to say, it's not just being different to other anime for the sake of contrarianism, it's making a serious point about misogyny and toxic masculinity. Describing Makoto as a "character" at all is almost missing the point; he's practically a force of nature, and the vast majority of the show is concerned with the psychological manoeuvring of the girls in his class trying to manage and shape his behaviour.

I only know about School Days because @weaselandfriends is constantly banging a drum about it being a secret masterpiece. Gee, I wonder who the OP of that thread was! Cannot imagine being on a "School Days slaps" grindset for eight fucking years now.

(CW: discussion of underage sex, full spoilers follow)

I'm going to take a cowardly centrist route and say that School Days does in fact slap on a conceptual level, but that the execution in many places leaves a bit to be desired. It often feels repetitive. I watched the thing on 1.5x speed because, as someone who reads fast, watching subbed anime is like watching paint dry. The dialogue often feels awkward (unintentionally so, as in), which I'm willing to partially chalk up to the translation; maybe some of the clunkier lines feel more natural in the original Japanese. The imagery is often kind of laughably blunt: in some cases it works, like Kotonoha's red yarn like she's pulling her own fucking arteries out of her body, and in other cases it feels derivative and hackneyed, like the whistling kettle in the final episode. Maybe that was more original in 2007, I don't know—I would've seen the same thing in Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire two years prior.

School Days does set out to pull the wool over the eyes of its presumably-mostly-young-men audience, by putting them in Makoto's POV. The show is adapted from an eroge, where the player literally would have inhabited Makoto and made his choices for him, and the "objective" of the game would have been to unlock sex scenes with all the schoolgirls. The trick with the anime is that it removes the possibility of choice, creating an impactful dissonance as Makoto's actions become increasingly alien and harmful. Inversely, as Makoto's sexual exploits escalate, we see less and less of them; by the end, the whole thing is routine, not eroticised in the slightest, we see people putting clothes on afterwards, sneaking around darkened rooms.

At the start, though, it's all panty shots and boobs. And like, how do you depict the objectification of women, from an internal perspective, without just... objectifying women? This has basically always been the classic problem with satire. If there is a way of doing it, School Days hasn't figured it out, so it just rolls up its sleeves and gets on with it. Where School Days stumbles, in my opinion, is that the fanservice shots leak out of Makoto's POV and into the scenes where it's just the girls on their own. Nevertheless, I think that even pretty early on School Days is unmistakably saying, "this is a bad thing". There's a discordant note to everything, a threat of another shoe waiting to drop. At the start, it takes the form of these innocuous remarks as the characters try to interact in good faith: Sekai is constantly like, "There's nothing wrong with feeling attracted to a girl! But maybe she doesn't feel comfortable with it! Have you thought about how she might feel?"

That's the great tension of Sekai, and indeed of much of the show's conflict: there is a world where Makoto and Sekai are just friends, and where Makoto is faithful to Kotonoha, and everyone lives happily ever after. Maybe Sekai really is earnestly trying to cross this gulf between genders, and wants to just make Makoto understand, so everyone can be happy. But from the start, there's a question of Sekai's motives; embodied by Sekai's friend Setsuna, who trails after her constantly asking, "But do you like him really?"

Setsuna is an interesting character with her own motives. There's a reading where she has a crush on Sekai, but can't pursue it because of her family's impending emigration; she ends up hanging around Makoto and desperately attempting to protect him from the consequences of his actions to preserve his relationship with Sekai, expressly stating that she wants Makoto to be a proxy for her after she's gone (though leaving any romantic feelings unspoken, that's just my interpretation). This escalates to the point of her having sex with Makoto on the condition that he breaks off another engagement with Otome, which is such a self-defeatingly doomed gambit that it becomes tragically clear Setsuna has lost all control over the situation. I got the impression that Setsuna somewhat envied the other girls' entanglements with Makoto: the bit where she kisses him while he's asleep, in an attempt to create a personal memory before she leaves forever, is haunting. Like Sekai, Setsuna ends up manufacturing a romance between herself and Makoto as a way to be with him "by proxy", without earnestly confronting her own feelings.

Anyway, my point is that early on, everyone is treating Makoto like a person, which is sort of their mistake. They're like, oh, a boy with a crush, how cute! What's the worst that could come of this? He's a bit clumsy, but I'm sure he means well! And progressively, mercilessly, the show is like: no, he does not mean well. This dude has absolutely nothing in his life except sex. Girls only exist to him as people to have sex with. Guys practically don't exist, as he can't have sex with them. And for these teenagers who are discovering their sexuality, the very fact that Makoto soon starts having these rumours circulating around him is what gives him some allure: he's a sexual entity, he can be thought of in that way, there must be some reason all these girls are acting so crazy over him. Even a character like Hikari, who early on was crushing heavily on the anime's one (1) other male character, Taisuke, ends up taking her turn with Makoto; whatever feelings she had for Taisuke are forgotten, the anime doesn't even bother establishing how that romance works, because it doesn't need to, we've already seen Makoto use his exact same wiles on like three girls already.

School Days has aged well not just because the years since have yielded a better cultural understanding of its subject matter, but for its "production design": what would have been a timely present-day setting at the point of its release ends up turning the whole thing into an early-2000s period-piece. The fashion and environments are distinctly noughties. Perhaps the most consistent bit of visual symbolism in the whole thing is the flip-phone: whenever a character is holding their phone, you can think of them holding their heart in their hands. They're like the fucking soul gems from Madoka Magica. Sometimes, people leave their hearts in the other room, or block each others' hearts, or search their hearts for good memories. The "cell phone charm" from the first episode is brought up towards the very end, seeming bitterly quaint in retrospect. Right before she kills him, Sekai sends Makoto a text which just reads "sorry" copied and pasted hundreds of times. And of course, the ED shows a propped-open cellphone with a slideshow of photos of the girls.

I think in terms of its place in history, School Days speaks to this information age where young girls are being bombarded with cultural messaging that the best way to get ahead is to sexualise oneself while simultaneously slamming everyone else for their sexuality. Girls aren't just competing with one another for the attention of boys; now, they're competing with online pornography. Sekai works as a waitress at a maid cafe (?), and sometimes wears the outfit for Makoto when they have sex. During the School Festival, the girls theme their class as a maid cafe (drawing on Sekai's experience, I think?), and are shown using "absolute territory" as a last-ditch resort to steal people from the other classes. As part of the festival, they have a secluded area curtained off with a bed, encouraging couples to go there for sex acts—but later, it turns out some of the girls have set up a camcorder, and they use the footage to reveal how everyone is cheating on everyone else. While the exact events are obviously taken to an extreme, subtextually everything in School Days tracks 100% with my own experience growing up in a Bri'ish high school, and it feels like things have only gotten worse since social media really tightened its grip on our society.

The most common talking point I see regarding this show is that the characters are "stupid". And it's like, no, they're not stupid, what planet are you on, they're fucking children! (They're children, fucking!) Most of them have probably never been in a relationship before! Everyone in the show is pursuing their own interests; it's just that often, they're in denial about the reality of the situation, because to acknowledge the reality would run against those interests. It's funny, Makoto hardly changes his behaviour throughout the whole show—it just becomes more extreme—but the only thing that affects whether or not his behaviour with Sekai is good or not is whether or not Kotonoha is his girlfriend. The use of "girlfriend" as a role is weaponised by both Kotonoha and Sekai against the other constantly; like declaring "you're It!" At once point while cooking for the school festival, Makoto starts groping Sekai's ass, and she goes, "Geez, stop it! Stop it I said! What'll you do if someone sees us?", only for Makoto to reply, "Then it's okay if no-one sees us?"; this motif of a private sin recurs with Setsuna's character, particularly in the masked play that crops up a couple of times. In what context is an act of desire okay, or not okay?

Halfway through the show, I remembered Emily is Away, a short Western indie visual novel. Released in 2015, Emily is Away is very consciously an early-2000s period piece, wearing the whole time period as an affectation. The whole game is a series of text conversations on an IM client with a girl; after key choices, you are told "emily will remember that".

I fucking hated Emily is Away when I played it. It made me so, so cross. Because after I finished my first playthrough, and got a miserable, unsatisfying end, I naturally started the whole thing over and tried again. I picked different favourite bands. I acted completely differently. And yet, no matter what I picked, during the timeskips between sections, my viewpoint character would do the exact same shit and the relationship fell apart in exactly the same way. The second playthrough was a complete waste of time. It seemed like I, the player, was being railroaded, that the writer simply hadn't the imagination to conceive of a truly interactive narrative with a wildly diverging chain of events.

But of course, that's the whole point, obviously. Emily is Away plays a mean trick on the player, where it outright lies that "you" are making meaningful choices, when in fact "you" are merely spectating the actions of the viewpoint character, a specific guy who is, by nature, a certain way. It posits that all this shit on the computer just doesn't fucking matter, it has nothing to do with how we feel about each other, that it's only our actions in the real world that matter. The thesis of Emily is Away is that sometimes, for some immutable reason, shit just doesn't work out between two people, and there's nothing you could have done differently that would have changed that.

In the timeline where you go the party, you regret going to the party. In the timeline where you don't go, you regret not going. So, the game says, what's the point in regretting at all?

I totally understood this, after finishing the game. But, fuck, I was still pissed about it. The game lied to my face. It put me in the position of being a shitty person, and I didn't like that. It left a bad taste in my mouth. I'm still not sure if Emily is Away is actually any good; I think I like it conceptually, but maybe the writing sucks, I played it eight years ago. My point is that I think School Days is trying to pull the same trick as this one game, but in a much more mean-spirited way, to much more devastating effect, and I suppose I can't be too surprised that it pissed off a lot of people. If I hadn't known upfront what to expect- well, I wouldn't be watching ecchi anime in the first place, but you get the point, maybe I would've been pissed too.

If you break out of the "anime" mindset for even a second, and allow yourself to think that what you're watching is a frank portrayal of events, rather than some hyperreal cartoon, then Makoto is obviously just a little sexual predator. He's constantly pushing the girls past their limits, groping tits, going in for kisses, often against their express wishes. He initiates all the sex we see, and while in a certain sense it's all consensual, everyone involved is under the age of consent, and the show is making a very strong case for why underaged sex is a problem. When Sekai gets pregnant, Makoto wants nothing to do with her—"It's not my fault!"—but it's made clear he wasn't using any contraception, so, c'mon.

School Days is very deliberate in omitting adult characters entirely. Teachers mostly exist in the form of textbooks being read offscreen. I think we get a line of dialogue from Sekai's mom, if I remember right? It presents this world where Makoto basically has free reign to do whatever he wants to the girls, and everybody knows about it, but nobody is doing anything about it. When Sekai murders Makoto, there isn't a scene where anyone notices his absence, finds out. Kotonoha carries his severed head across town without anyone noticing, kills Sekai, and makes it onto the boat without getting caught. The show ends on a montage of idyllic school scenes, as if to say, "nobody noticed, everything just carried on". And again, to a certain kind of guy, I think this would stretch plausibility to the point of causing offence. For me, I think it's speaking to something very real.

Makoto's bedroom is barren except for his computer and magazines: porn, and porn. In the back half of the show, the void left by the absence of adults is filled by Makoto, Sekai, and Kotonoha, who are thrust into this horrible domestic drama, as everyone else in their class blocks Makoto. Makoto relays Kotonoha's recommendation for an abortion clinic to Sekai. He and Sekai sit diagonally across a table in a living room, and suddenly Makoto's school uniform looks like a salaryman's suit, a size too big for him, like he's walking around in his dad's clothes. Sekai tries to prepare a big meal for him, in a fucked-up parody of domesticity, but ends up destroying the whole thing after Makoto spits in her face yet again; later, she sees the remnants in the trash, an uneaten chicken leg poking out, and sees a little of herself in there, and that's basically when she decides to take the knife and kill Makoto. She stabs him in the belly, which is what Kotonoha will later do to her; both are imitating the original sin of the pregnancy.

Kotonoha explicitly chooses to kill Sekai this way because she believes Sekai is lying about the pregnancy—which we can pretty safely say isn't true, based on the scenes where Sekai is on her own. There's this horrible, horrible shot where the camera is looking out at Kotonoha from inside the gut wound, and she observes, "Just as I thought. There's no-one in there." And it's like, is she talking about this baby, still so early in the gestation that it's scarcely even an idea? Is she talking about Sekai, or Makoto, these two people who turned out not to care about her at all? Or is she peering straight through the screen at the viewer, complicit in this atrocity? The shot mirrors the bag containing Makoto's head earlier in the same scene; when Sekai unzips it, the inside is just a black void, and we aren't shown the contents. It's honestly more unsettling to infer it—that bag's not big enough for all of Makoto—and have it "made real" by that final shot of Kotonoha pressing the severed head into her chest on the boat. The memes were more right than they knew: "Nice boat."

Overall, I think School Days extends a lot of empathy towards its female characters. Or, if nothing else, it takes care to give them complex and distinctive internality, which is more than I can say for a lot of anime. Kotonoha initially represses her feelings for Makoto, and then when she feels pressured into reciprocating his intimacy, she soon gets turned into a social pariah for it. Early on, there's this eye-roll-inducing scene where Kotonoha is like "the other girls used to make fun of me because of my huge boobs", and from Makoto's perspective it's like "great, you've got huge boobs!", but then from Kotonoha's perspective, she spends the whole show getting slut-shamed, doesn't she? As a coping mechanism, she builds up elaborate delusions around Makoto—Makoto wouldn't let this happen to her, would he!?—which make it impossible for her to see how he's harming Sekai at the same time, culminating in the "I think you've made up your pregnancy for attention" beat. Their own internalised misogyny prevents the girls from identifying their common enemy.

If I'm being totally blunt, I feel like I can pretty safely put most of the comments regarding School Days I've seen online into a big bucket labelled "HAS NEVER HAD MORE THAN ONE GIRL INTERESTED IN HIM AT ONCE". Like, "I can't believe this Makoto guy! Why doesn't he just dump Kotonoha and date Sekai, who he's obviously more compatible with?" Bucket. "Makoto is so spineless and needs to stop letting these girls manipulate him!" Bucket. "There's no way the teachers would let him get away with this!" Bucket. "What do these girls see in Makoto anyway?" Bucket. "Sekai is such a bitch!" A new, bigger bucket labelled "NO BITCHES".

What I'm interested in is takes from School Days haters who aren't brainpoisoned anime fans, who might even nod along to all my analysis of the show's themes here, but who nevertheless think it's a bad show that deserves to be reviled. What part didn't you like? Is it the part in the OP where you see every female character naked one after the other? Yeah that part's pretty bad. Is it that windowpane-shattering digital transition that gets used once or twice? Is it the utter self-seriousness with which it tackles its ludicrous melodrama? I can see how, if you don't let yourself start to think "oh, those poor girls!", if you don't have that emotional buy-in, the whole thing might just feel comically edgy, sophomoric. I don't think there's any level on which School Days is fun to watch, and I'm not saying it's a secret masterpiece either, but I guess it more-or-less landed for me.

[evenmorefatallyobsessed]

So after Team Jnpr found out what happened with Playtime Co how many toys would they kill because some of them are beyond saving. Actually this could be it's own story. But anyway Yarnby, Catnap, and Miss Delight I think are to far gone. The Doctor would probably be no moral issue with killing. Mommy Long Legs, Dogday, and Doey would probably be willing to help them.

So not gonna lie didn't think too deeply on said concept, I was just commissioned to make the model and send it to them. I literally thought of it as I posted it...

But that is a interesting point, after all a good amount of the toys tragically aren't rehabilitate anymore... Just about any small one for sure as they all are basically feral.

I actually wonder if the smaller bodies can think beyond animalistic thoughts. It was mentioned several times that bigger bodies were failures that resulted in animal like natures like with Yarnby and Pianosarus.

So I imagine most the smaller toys are the same though Mommy does seem to be able to control the Mini-Huggies so some are... Trainable. Which is just another level of fucked up.

Ultimately I'd have to say JNPR would kill a good amount, their first kill would be Huggy, and they would be shocked when they do so cuz they don't understand what it is at first thinking it's a Grimm... Until it doesn't disappear and then a monster and once they learn they range in reaction.

Ironically I see Ren reacting the worst as this would break his semblance from emotional overload and since he rarely deals with emotions it would utterly devastate him... Nora wouldn't be much better realizing it's a child who was probably a lot like her.

Pyrrha would be inconsolable and like she was with Penny, Jaune would also be in a horrible state. But as we've seen in the series he is the best at pulling himself together.

And ultimately for his team he would shove his mental issues down to deal with later knowing something just died in him... They'd talk to Poppy and all four would be disgusted, horrified and angry...

As for which toys, yeah... Yarnby, Catnap, and Miss Delight would all be killed. I do kinda also see this situation where they hesitate to kill them, but Jaune would force himself forward to do it, so his teammates wouldn't.

They Would HATE Sawyer, things would not play out like in the game, they'd tear his robotic army apart shatter his container and drag him out piece by piece already being far past their initial innocence at that point.

Jaune would unlock his semblance from the sheer tragedy of seeing all this horror. Probably when he see's Dogday, desperate to heal him, to heal someone who suffered so much, he's had to kill so many victim already. They didn't deserve this! they weren't monsters, they were people, children who'd been twisted, used, turned into playthings for Playtime.

He'd activate his semblance as he rushed forward, grabbing the little critters rushing into Dogday, pulling them out of his flesh, ignoring them biting, scratching, trying to eat him as he did. He couldn't let him die, not another kid, not one who could still think, who still had a soul, and even now was tortured. Jaune would pass out waking up to see Dogday alive... The mini critters dead, torn apart, his team looking more spiritually worn out then ever.

Jaune would apologize, regretting that he passed out, that he didn't kill the small toys... The Feral children... that his team had to, that he couldn't protect them.

Yeah... this would be a emotionally fucked AU... Bright side I can see them saving Mommy Long Legs and by extension, Bunzo Bunny, PJ Pug-a-Pillar and the Mini-Huggies that she controls.

With Catnap I think Jaune more then anyone would understand... Loyalty is one of the core tennent of the Arcs after all... he would try but when his teams in danger he decides.

Doey, and all the toys in the sanctuary would be saved, because to put it simply the Prototype would die before Sawyer (The Doctor does) when he attacks the sanctuary Jaune and Pyrrha would go with Doey to fight him while Ren and Nora would follow Poppy's plan.

[kittenfangirl20]

Adam woke up and went to the bathroom, he looked in the mirror and smiled.

Adam internally: I must be further along than I thought since he noticed his stomach was starting to look more like a baby bump.

Adam: Hello little one, I can’t wait to meet you.

Adam softly gasped when he felt movement as if the baby was saying they agreed with him. He ran to the bed and lay down with Lucifer so he could put his hand on his stomach.

Adam: The baby moved.

Lucifer opened his eyes when he felt the movement under his hand.

Lucifer: Our baby.

Adam: I am so happy, I wonder how many we are going to have.

Lucifer: I would be happy with whatever we get. I know would like to have more children.

Adam: Me too. Remember when we were kids and we used to play house. I liked doing that because even then I wanted to marry you.

Lucifer: Me too, when I first saw you I said that I would marry you to anyone that would listen to me. It got rather annoying to some people.

Adam: I think it was sweet. I was thinking that we should get matching tattoos like an electric guitar with like a snake around the neck of it.

Lucifer: I like that, what about something with a rubber duck?

Adam: You have always liked rubber ducks, that is cute.

Lucifer: Well we have a free day, we should go ahead and do it, we can come up with a design on the way to the tattoo parlor.

Adam: You really mean it?

Lucifer: Why not, I think it is a cool idea.

Adam: Fuck yeah.

They got ready and went to the tattoo where Adam got his ears pierced at.

@things-arent-what-they-seem66

(Adaline to Adam AU)

⚠️this story will deal with transitioning which will also include things like transphobia, misgendering, and deadnaming⚠️

Adam hated looking at his reflection, he knew for a long time he was really a man. But the problem was that he was born in the wrong body, a woman’s body. He even preferred the name Adam over Adaline. He pulled his long hair in a ponytail wishing to cut it short, but he worried that would draw any questions. So far the only person he told was his mom and she 100% accepted him and was going to help him through transitioning. The person he feared telling the most was his boyfriend because he loved him so much and he feared Lucifer dumping him.

Adam internally: It’s one thing for him to accept me being bisexual, this is me changing so much about myself.

Sera walked into the bathroom and hugged him.

Sera: Starlight, Lucifer is here to take you to school.

Adam: I am going to tell him so I can get the break up over with. I don’t want to go to prom and be dumped there.

Lucifer had asked him to prom and they planned on going to a hotel afterwards so they could have sex for the first time. Poor Lucifer was nervous when they went the pharmacy to get the condom. Adam was surprised when he picked a bigger size. Lucifer stuttered saying that in spite of his short height he was big down there. Curious Adam asked to see it and when they were alone Adam was impressed to see that Lucifer was right. Lucifer promised that he would be gentle as Adam gently touched it.

Sera: Maybe his reaction will surprise you, he loves you so much.

Adam: He loves Adaline, not Adam.

Adam wiped his hand over his eyes hoping that he didn’t start crying over this. He went down stairs and smiled seeing Lucifer, he couldn’t help but love him. They met in kindergarten and now at eighteen years old they were dating like everyone predicted, but Adam didn’t know how long that would last.

Lucifer: Ready for school.

Adam: Yeah.

Adam adjusted the skirt he was wearing along with the tank top and black leather jacket before they got into Lucifer’s car.

Lucifer: Has something upset you, you’re crying.

Adam: I am about to tell you something and I want you to know if you want to take someone else to prom you can.

Lucifer: Why would I want to take someone else, I love you.

Adam: I am not Adaline, I am Adam. I was trapped in the wrong body. It should have been a man’s body, not a woman’s body. I’ll find another way to go to school if you don’t want to look at me.

Before he could leave the car Lucifer pulled Adam into his arms.

Lucifer kissed his cheek: Don't be ridiculous, I'll love you no matter what.

Adam cried, he was so relieved when he heard those words, he had been so worried for nothing.

Adam: T-thank you Luci.

Lucifer: Besides, I've always kind of known.

Adam pulled back: Really? How?

Lucifer gave him a knowing look: You were not exactly a girly girl, you've always been into things that most guys like and I didn't want to say anything. In case you weren't ready. And as beautiful as you look with your long hair, pretty skirt, and tank top they're not you.

Adam cried some more, this was more than he could have hoped for.

Adam: Y-you mean it?

Lucifer: I do. And whoever you decide to live your life as, I just know I want to be by your side. I've loved you forever and nothing will change that. In fact, when you're ready I'll even pay for your hair cut.

Adam smiled he was so happy, just when he thought he couldn't love Lucifer more.

Adam: You're the best boyfriend ever.

Lucifer kissed him: So are you.

[weedle-testaburger]

'i'm not fat, i'm just shamed for my body in a world where white men decide what's beautiful! ...WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT? WHY WOULD I SAY THAT? I DON'T SAY THAT!'

holy shit this came true:

[gaywineauntsstuff]

Sometimes I feel like us as the bat family fandom forget how starry eyed people get about Nightwing canonically.

Because with the exception of early era Tim most of the Batkids are like. lol that’s my loser older brother or some variation of yeah…he’s some guy I guess? He helps me with homework?

And Nightwing is the canonically a center of multiversal light.

When Heroes meet Nightwing they do the vigorous handshake and the “it’s an honor to meet you sir, I have heard so much about you oh my god”

There are so many character where they are literally shown giggling and kicking their feet whenever Nightwing talks to them.

Even the people who don’t have the celebrity level worship of him respect the hell out of him and call him as soon as they need help.

From raven to Starfire to Superman to Superboy to all or the flashes there is so much respect and awe given to this one dude.

And it is deserved

But imagine you are Damian Wayne and you’ve been working with what 90% of the people you’ve met (all bats) have been calling an embarrassment to your father’s legacy.

Your mother hates him and your Grandfather doesn’t feel that strongly about him.

The red hood calls him an embarrassment and a coward and he couldn’t even keep Red Robin from running away.

Your father tells him that he never should have been Batman

And you’ve worked with him and you know what you think everyone is full of shit about him and you and him the new Batman and Robin are the best no matter what anyone says.

And fuck it the fact he keeps going in a suit that everyone tells him he’s not good enough for is scratching something in your brain that you’re refusing to acknowledge because why would you feel that way? You are the circus freak have nothing in common (shut up)

And then you meet the justice league and all the extended teams.

And people are falling over themselves to listen to a word out of your brothers, your Batman’s mouth. They wait for a nod or headshake and dictate decades worth of planning on it.

Both Drake and Todd’s hero teams ask him for advice with or without their designated bats presence.

The man of steel asks for child rearing advice and wonder woman cracks a joke about a spar

Newer heroes whisper about him in the halls

He’s literally your favorite hero’s favorite hero

And it’s breaking Damian’s Brain

Because well… he kinda gets slapped around in Gotham. He’s the butt of half the jokes the other Batkids make and Dick just smiles and takes it.

The rogues have a bounty on nightwings ass and he gets leered at by goons, rogues, civilians and anti-hero’s alike and he doesn’t say anything.

He lets oracle crack jokes about a pretty face and having to do everything herself

Let’s Jason run the alley despite the fact that apparently he knows how to take it back

Apparently he’s had 12 people tailing Drake since Paris and despite being the man Ra’s Al Ghul calls detective has yet to notice. (Because you can’t tell me Dick was just magically at the right place to catch Tim falling to his death on coincidence)

And necessary to peace talks because he’s the best they have at deescalation

Like imagine you are a child who was raised to believe power is this obvious, all consuming thing. That the ones who control the board are visibly larger than life figures who fought their way to the top and cling to power by even the thinnest hangnail if they had to.

People who ignore simpler morals or an overall greater goal or good

And then you’re taken in by the man who whispers the correct answers into the larger than life figures ear.

Like I feel like that would have such an impact because Dick didn’t take power from anyone to reach his goals, it’s why his siblings don’t really defer to him unless in crisis.

Dick didn’t take power, no people just looked at him and decided he was the best option to give it to.

Everyone basically looked at this kid and went, yeah you’re the future of all heroism.

And if that dude can’t even get Bruce Wayne’s respect what chance does Damian Wayne have

[absolutedestinyapocalypsse]

i love how as you read more into tlt, the ninth house seems more and more normal. Like if i'm at an immoral evil government competition, and i use human fat as soap and animate skeletons to do menial labor, i'm gonna LOSE if my competition is the third house, represented by ianthe "who HASN'T eaten human flesh and fucked a corpse" tridentarius. My weird skeleton thing seems normal, suddenly. Well-adjusted, even. It's recycling. They're using resources in a sustainable way. Normal and regular and productive for a post-climate change apocalypse universe.

People go on and on about how Muir drops you into gtn hearing from the person who knows the least about whats happening, and does not hand hold the reader through the crazy shit that occurs, and that's all true. It truly is a crazy writing decision to make your first pov character come from the universe's equivalent of amish fundamentalists. But the reader is actually done a huge favor being dropped into the ninth house first, because we already understand that space is cold and what catholic nuns are, and what goths look like, and what lesbians are. Very little time is wasted in the first chunk of gtn ripping hair out of your head wondering what the fuck is going on, because for all of its strangeness, the ninth house is already the most familiar thing we're gonna get.

Because THEN we learn that this whole universe's medieval chivalry system is designed to groom people from CHILDREN to not only be exploited and used as human batteries for necromancers, but to LIKE it. to wax poetic about it. to confuse it for love, to write fucking academic papers about it! Then we learn about planet flipping, an act so horrific and violent it turns the planet's soul into a massive vengeful monster capable of killing GOD. Like what do you MEAN the animals "change"? Is this why noodle has six legs? I would MUCH prefer to wear skeleton makeup and repent forever if the alternative was to witness my family dog grow TWO EXTRA LIMBS because the planet he lived on fucking died. Suddenly, living in the asscrack of a planet where no light gets in seems like a sweet deal when the whole solar system is lit by a sun that MAKES YOU GO CRAZY. The ninth house's WORST sin, killing 200 babies to make Harrow, a waste of resources and an act so terrible it haunts Harrow for the entire span of her life, is like a BLIP compared to the death count Jod's empire. God even hears about it and he's like, no big deal! The cohort probably kills that amount of people in a DAY.

And its ALSO tragic because you realize that all of this trauma and abuse that Gideon goes through is not really because of the ninth house at all. It's really just an individual skill issue that she wasn't treated with compassion. Nobody hated her because she's jesus or a bomb, nobody even KNOWS she's a bomb. It's just Priamhark and Pelleamena being deeply guilty and scared people that motivates her treatment, and absolutely nothing else.

They did something bad, and they know it, and Gideon survived it, and they can't kill her to cover it up, and that's IT. They killed themselves for pride, because they were afraid of the consequences of their actions (both the baby killing and Harrow opening the tomb) coming back to bite them. You can argue this is the catholicism of it all, and I wouldn't say you're wrong, but compared to the cavalier system, where exploitation is in the very lining of the house's institutions, the ninth house is really removed from the space empire's blood factory. This is compared to the fourth house where they have tons of children to be CANNON FODDER to join the cohort at fucking 14, compared to the eight house uncle nephew fuckery, even the fifth house which actually does seems nice to live on but also seems to have the fourth house in some sort of fucked up political bear hug??? (maybe the fourth house has so many kids in order to fight the fifth's battles? which is EXACTLY what jod's whole empire is about; politely stirring your tea and acting nice while you destroy everything) compared to ALL OF THAT, the cruelty that Gideon faces is really more a bug of the ninth's system than a feature.

There's nothing baked into the culture and everyday life of the ninth house that necessitated that cruelty; in fact, for such a pragmatic and resource-scarce place, it's WEIRD that a strong able-bodied young person was treated like a waste of space and resources. It could just have easily not happened, if Harrow's parents had been different people. Maybe they were products of their environment, but so was Harrow, and she values Gideon's life SO MUCH that she'd literally rather carve out parts of her own brain than exploit her. Gideon grows up knowing really NOTHING about cavaliers, so remote from the horrors of the empire that she develops an idea of what the cohort is from porn magazines. And in a lot of ways, that upbringing was desolate and terrible, and in a lot of other ways it literally DID NOT HAVE TO BE.

Gideon's MAIN THING is that she wants to be useful, to be needed, to be loved and it SUCKS that she couldn't even get it in the one place where she was actually an invaluable resource, where the death empire had the weakest reach. Gideon can't even blame her lack of love on the fucked up chivalry system like everyone else can because it JUST WASNT REALLY RELEVENT!?!?! This is like if i rolled up to the trauma competition and everyone else was raised in a nuclear warzone by wolves or something and i grew up in like, the suburbs and was raised by teachers and i somehow STILL WON. truly what the fuck guys.

[sossolei]

things I learned after shifting to Hogwarts ‧₊ ᵎᵎ⋅ ˚ △⃒⃘

SIDENOTE: hogwarts was not the first reality I shifted to ! this is a uni reality ! there is no war ! ask any questions you want !

.☘︎ ݁˖ BATHROOM. I’ve genuinely never seen anyone talk about this but ( at least in my reality ) there’s a bathroom on the Hogwarts Express and holy fuck??? On the outside it looks tiny asf but I went in there to change into my robes and it’s wayyy bigger than it looks on the outside. It works like the tents in Goblet of Fire basically. The toilets and everything look relatively new so I’m assuming they change it every couple years just to keep in good condition.

.☘︎ ݁˖ MUGGLES. Have you ever wondered exactly how the muggles don’t notice wizardry, or at least at the platform? In my personal experience, unless it’s magic very intentionally and obviously done in front of muggles, there will usually be a moment distraction where they don’t see the magic happening. In the sense of platform nine and three quarters, there’s usually a couple trains that arrive around the same time and blare the horn so everyone usually gets distracted by that. But a personal example of this happens when I was standing in front of the barrier getting ready to cross through the wall, a young child was watching me from afar and as soon as started walking forward, he tripped over the wheel of his mothers luggage and didn’t see me go through the wall.

.☘︎ ݁˖ THE GREAT HALL. The candles are never ending. They don’t drip. They don’t melt in any way. I just had to say that cause I legit stared at them for almost an hour trying to see if it would melt. You have to talk pretty loud to be heard at the front where Dumbledore usually gives his lil speeches, which means the students who sing have lungs for DAYSSSS it’s actually so impressive. The benches are uncomfortable, not unbearable but not recommended for sitting for a long time lol. There’s no menu or anything, the food rlly does just appear there but there’s always something for everybody. Some people even walk up and down the table looking for what they want.

.☘︎ ݁˖ OTHER SCHOOLS. I didn’t stay in this reality for very long but I was always asking questions ( sorry mcgonnagall ). Ilvermorny is currently trying to admit more Native American wizards into their school but Native American wizards (as far as I know) have their own kind of magic and legit do not want anything to do with Ilvermorny. Kind of similar issue in Australia and Aboriginals I’m pretty sure. There’s a lot of, like a fuck ton of wizarding schools in Africa. I know JK Rowling has like one wizarding school in Africa but geographically speaking, that never made sense to begin with and I wasn’t surprised when I found out there were different/smaller wizarding schools around Africa.

.☘︎ ݁˖ STUDENTS. I don’t know how many students are in Hogwarts but I do know that it’s never a surprise who comes to Hogwarts. The ministry genuinely keeps track of every single wizard who has children, and even hold records of wizards who have families without wizarding abilities, just in case someone pops out with it. Easiest way to think of it is that families like Ron’s are always kept track of as well as Hermione’s, so it’s never usually a surprise when someone turns up muggleborn cause they’re usually expecting it.

.☘︎ ݁˖ PROFESSORS. The professors are not as silly goofy as they are in the movies guy :( They’re not miserable or anything but they all just remind me of the standing emoji LMAOOO. But seriously, someone like Mcgonnagall is not as welcoming or “chill” as she is in the movies or towards Harry. But some definitely are more chill, especially the younger ones. Slughorn is my silly king but even he has his moments.

Since this is a uni, Snape isn’t as uh…violent (?) as he is in the movies. Neville is a grown ass man, Snape is def not his biggest fear but Neville in general has a strong urge to prove himself and it reflects in his relationship with Snape. Snape isn’t scary, he just demands lots of respect and has respect for people that have proven they are “worthy” of it, i.e., high marks, put together, confidence, strong willed, etc.

.☘︎ ݁˖ DIVINATION. Did you guys know that being a witch/wizard doesn’t automatically make you good at all forms of divination? I scripted Mattheo Riddle into this reality and me and him are soooo good at other forms of divination like tarot, coffee grounds, and even the the crystal ball, but Theodore Nott fucking sucksss at it. Hermione also didn’t do as well in the class as I know she could’ve done, but according to Treylawney, all forms of divination require open mindedness towards something you can’t understand. Someone like hermione, for example, wants to know everything all the time and doesn’t beat around the bush, so tarot isn’t her cup of tea because she doesn’t think it’s giving her exactly what she wants.

.☘︎ ݁˖ HOMEWORK. Homework can either be really fun or really time consuming. It’s just like regular homework where you recall everything you learned in class but homework isn’t very common the more you move up in classes, mainly because the magic you start to do becomes more hands on rather than memorizing. This doesn’t apply to Snape though. He loves homework.

.☘︎ ݁˖ UNIFORMS. THE ROBES ARE INSULATED. It’s very thick, good quality fabric and keeps you real warm during the winter but during the later hot months like September, it’s not uncommon to walk around with the robes open or in your hands, but you have to wear them in your body during class, no exceptions. They absorb stains??? This is one I wasn’t expecting but it’s a magical robe so…okay! I dropped cranberry juice on the sleeve and it just completely absorbed and it didn’t stink or anything. This doesn’t apply to the tie or anything else, those have to washed for sure.

.☘︎ ݁˖ REALITY. If you haven’t shifted yet, you’ll often hear people say “it’ll feel natural because you’ve already lived there your whole life” and while that is true, it’s also not because how am I supposed to be natural walking past Robert fucking Pattinson to get to Defense Against the Dark Arts???? In my mind, he’s always been Edward from Twilight and seeing him in the hogwarts robes just made me stop in my tracks and stare. Some things come natural and some things don’t but I embrace everything with open arms.

.☘︎ ݁˖ EXTRA. Draco is blonde as hell! Like Targaryen level blonde. I do think it’s natural tho cause Luna has the same platinum type of blonde going on. Harry’s scar is soooo much cooler in this reality, it’s thin but branches out on the side of his face and it’s much more noticeable than the one in the movie. Hermione has curly curly hair! I don’t know if she straightens it in the books but I know she does in the movie, in this reality she literally just got a better curl routine. She has a ton of products and really cares for her hair and she’s lowkey embarrassed cause it’s the one thing she considers “vain.”

There’s a “club” of sorts where a bunch of students get together and run around the castle at the crack ass of Dawn for exercise ( best believe they have NEVER seen the likes of me ). I was told there are wizards who are famous in muggle spaces, typically for music or art. The painting will warn people when the stairs are about to move lol. That whole house discrimination stuff doesn’t happen as often as it does in the movies/books, most people don’t actually care and Slytherins get along with Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs well—however, Gryffindor does have the tendency to poke fun and Slytherins respond with dry sarcasm so sometimes it’s not a perfect fit! House discrimination was bigger in our parents age but as the years have gone by, the current gen doesn’t care fr.

That’s all I can think of atm, thank you for reading and yes I will be doing this with other places I’ve shifted to!

[simpjaes]

DAY-SHIFT. (p. sh)

― part one here! After finding out that your boss has seen, heard, and instructed you through some pleasurable nights while parading around as a faceless cam-boy, you decide that your best course of action is to: call out sick. use vacation days. avoid Park Sunghoon at all costs. Unfortunately, ten days doesn’t appear to be nearly enough time to erase what’s happened, and Sunghoon refuses to be avoided. or the one where sunghoon pretends that he isn’t an anxious mess over accidentally exposing himself and you just so happen to have a lot of fucking empathy. 

minors dni 

PAIRING ― boss / cam boy!sunghoon x afab reader  

WORDCOUNT― 14.5k 

CONTENT― forbidden office romance kind of, smidge of angst if ur sensitive, mentions of predatory behavior from sunghoon, he is more desperate than he is dominant, just the way we like it.

NOTE ― bro im so sorry this took way too long to write, it also is way longer than it's supposed to be. but yknow. i had to do him right lmfao. NOT PROOF READ.

nsfw tags under cut

nsfw tags― perverted sunghoon, heavy petting, making out, foreplay on a chair lol, desk sex, very intimate shit ok? ok., pussy eating, jerking off, finger fucking, fingers-in-mouth antics, gagging, implications of something more than just an office fling, unprotected sex, he fills you UP!!! YIPEE!!! 

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Avoidance.

That is the only way you know out of any awkward or unsavory situation. Avoid, avoid, avoid. Find a new job, change your name, dye your hair– question all of your life choices up to this point.

It’s the fact that never in your life have you had an interest in live sex cams. It was always just a porn video or a nice erotic novel for you. Sometimes curiosity gets the best of you though, like it does all people, and it’s not like you thought anyone would ever know who you are or catch you in the act of feeding into your curiosities. 

The one time you ever navigated to the live camera feed on your favorite porn site did shift your sexual appetite a little bit. A whole new world of seeing exactly what you want without needing to search for far too long for that perfect video…for a cost, of course.

You made good money already, and it’s not like you weren’t going for that promotion at the time either. You thought, why not? Why not pay a pretty, faceless man for some anonymous jerking off and move on with your life? 

The one time you found something to satiate the late night body-cravings, the point of pleasure ended up being…your boss?

Small world? Miniscule, fucking tiny little world. 

For days you wondered if Sunghoon’s text to you was just a coincidence. After all, the faceless man on screen didn’t say a word to you after you uttered the name of your boss. Even if he directly said your name. Even if Park Sunghoon uttered your false name at work. 

Consistent back and forth in your head. From, “No, how could that even be possible? No way is it him.” to “but Mr.Park started being weird after the first call, he used both names, he played off of the boss/employee dynamic.”

You’re going crazy as you send another email to your department, apologizing for taking so many days off but not truly apologetic. It’s been ten days now and Sunghoon has yet to text you again. 

That little “Can we talk?” can be heard in your head in his voice. Only now recognizing how clear and unique it truly is when he does speak. You try not to realize how similar the cam-boy sounded to him. Only connecting the dots when they force you to do it, really. You still try to convince yourself that the text was about firing you, given his actions at work that very same day. 

Maybe he was avoiding you because he felt awful about needing to fire you? 

Maybe he sent that text message to start the process of pushing you out? 

After all, it’s still very difficult to imagine Park Sunghoon having a cock that nice, or cum in that amount. Given, it’s not like you ever thought about him jerking off or anything, it’s just–

You don’t fucking know. Your brain is a mess of shaking anxiety and echoes of sexual frustrations and moans. 

You were refunded your money. He texted after the session. He said your name. It’s him, isn’t it?

You refuse to fucking find out.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

From:...[ HRatyourjob@workemail.org ]

CC:...[ parksunghoon@workemail.org ]

BCC:...

Subject: Time off Request: Rejected. Insufficient PTO.

[insert your name here],

The time you have requested from the 27th to the 3rd has been rejected due to insufficient hours. As of last Thursday, you are no longer meeting the minimum hour requirement as a full-time employee. Your PTO is at 0 hours and 00 minutes and you now have three unexcused absences. Please return tomorrow with a signed order or note that exempts you from work. If you move forward without returning to the building, this will be grounds for termination. Please review the company handbook and job abandonment guidelines. 

Additionally, COO Lee, myself, and Division manager Park will be scheduling a meeting with you in the upcoming days, failure to appear will result in immediate termination.

Thank you,

HR

Well, fuck. You knew the time to avoid this would dry up, and this ten day hideaway to fake your death didn’t quite pan out.

Devastating, truly, that you have to walk through those doors with the same legs your boss may or may not have seen spread open for him through a grainy webcam image. Horrifying, that you have to look him in the eye and explain that you really were sick for the past ten days, that you definitely were not hiding the shame of your sexual desires.

The worst part about all of this? Not just the embarrassment but the fact that…you liked it. On that night, had he admitted it was him, you may not have ended the call yourself. It felt like it added some danger to your arousal at the time. Which, naturally, makes you more embarrassed now. Mostly because, at worst if that was Mr.Park, it was predatory. At best though? You very well may have consented.

But the what ifs don’t matter now. The only thing that matters is forcing yourself through the awkwardness of being at work after avoiding it for so long already.

Fortunately for you though, work is…weirdly normal. In fact, no one acts like you’ve missed ten days at all. You are greeted by the usual co-workers, you sit down at your desk and can log in as usual, and there are no warning emails or invitations for what would be considered a meeting of termination either. 

The day goes by just fine, suspiciously so. Sunghoon, though you’re avoiding him at the moment, doesn’t appear to be too out of character either. At one point, you were forced to drop corrected paper work off in his office, and he gave you the same usual and small “Thank you” before you stepped out with your legs threatening to buckle. 

Then again, his “casual” appreciation could just be your mind playing positive little tricks on you. Maybe it wasn’t casual at all. Maybe that little uncharacteristic breath afterwards isn’t just in your head. You didn’t make eye contact with him during that brief moment, and you did rush out quite quickly so you wouldn’t really know. However, in the deepest part of your brain his voice really does match the one who said all those dirty things to you. 

Maybe you’re still overreacting.

Or maybe you dreamed all of this up. 

You choose to remain unaware of the awkwardness around you solely because everything else is normal. Deep, deep down, you know. But you’re not giving that truth a chance to thrive or run your brain anymore.

And just as the day comes to an end, you’re actually feeling better. Anxiety is draining out of you, fear and embarrassment sit dormant in some hidden part of your brain over the small possibility of virtually fucking your boss. It seems you’ve let this work day clear up all of that fear in your head.

You were wrong, right? It wasn’t him, right? He’d have tried to defend himself by now. What boss wouldn’t be absolutely terrified that you’d report him, anyway? After all of that?

You actually feel a little dumb at the possibility of Mr. Park ever wanting you sexually, or ever even wanting to speak to you in that way. Asking to see your pussy? Telling you how to touch it? No, that’s definitely not him. Couldn’t be him. 

And your eyes do stray after a little while. Just to steal glimpses into his office, feeling relieved and weightless now that it appears your fears are over and finally understood. Doesn’t change the fact that now when you look at him, you might be wildly fucking attracted to him. Because fuck, imagine if that was him. You’re kind of forced to put his image to the faceless cam-boy now, not that you want to do that or anything. It just…you can’t really blame yourself for it.

You lend yourself a little laugh. As happy as you are that you’re able to convince yourself that it’s not Sunghoon’s cock you’ve yearned for, you really wouldn’t mind sleeping with someone as handsome as him. 

Crazy how the lack of anxiety lets you think those types of things though, isn’t it? When your brain is no longer fogged by fear or embarrassment, it’s like the clarity can sometimes be scarier simply because you don’t know how true certain statements are. Even through all of that fear, maybe a part of you wished it was him. 

Even with the weight on your shoulders lifted, in hindsight, maybe you’re even a little disappointed that it wasn’t. 

And, just as you’re preparing to clock out and head home with a big secret crush and a little pep in your step, you hear the familiar notification of an email. No problem, probably just a daily report or something. 

From:...[ parksunghoon@workemail.org ]

CC:...

BCC:...

Subject: Mandatory Advising

[insert your name here],

Please come to my office before you leave for the day to discuss your conduct as of late. 

Thank you,

Park Sunghoon

Division Manager

000-000-0000 ext. 000

Well, double fuck. To think everything was fine despite you being well aware of that shit HR said to you previously? 

You barely recognize how the email is sent directly to you from Mr. Park, not including HR or COO Lee. In fact, the anxiety wells up inside of you so quickly that you nearly have to dry heave a few times before taking a deep breath. 

In your head, it’s not even about the web-cam session with a faceless man anymore. Your anxiety about that died the moment you successfully lied to yourself enough, now you’re genuinely just afraid you’ll lose your job or that beloved promotion you worked so hard to be qualified for. You just had to let your anxiety run your life for the past ten days, didn’t you? After all, skipping work to such an extent? Everyone had to have known that it was a lie eventually.  

So, you stand to your feet, brush off your thighs, and attempt to keep your heart from pounding as you make your way to Mr. Park’s office expecting to see HR, COO Lee, and a severance package on the desk waiting for your signature. 

Instead, you walk in to just find your boss. He’s looking at you as he normally would, eyes focused on his screen before glancing at you for a moment and nodding his head to one of the chairs in front of his desk. 

“Mr. Park–” You start, nearly wincing at the way you say it because, well, you haven’t said it since the night you had your pussy out on display. It’s only natural to physically react, right?

“One moment.” He says in a small voice, clicking a few times with the mouse as you watch the monitor light shine across his cheeks with each window he minimizes. 

It’s silent for a few moments as you awkwardly look around an office you’ve been in countless times. His lights are always dimmed, the temperature is always comfortable. You’re gonna miss this office, though it’s not your own. It was a nice, brief escape before all of this if you’re being honest. 

“How was work for you today?” He turns his attention to you, finally adjusting and rolling his chair to center himself in front of you behind his desk 

You pause at the question, unintentionally tilting your head at it like a puppy. “Good? Normal, I guess?” 

You watch as he nods with a tight-lipped expression, eyes falling to his desk as he takes in a deep and disappointed sounding breath. 

“Well, that’s one of us.” He huffs out, causing you to feel a bit confused with his tone. Is he being…passive aggressive? And when he snaps his eyes from his desk straight to your own confused gaze, you can almost sense a bit of something else in them compared to usual. 

Not anger. Not disappointment. 

He looks worried.

“Eleven days–” Sunghoon drones on with an exhausted tone, cutting himself off with another breath that shows you were right to assume his current displayed emotion. “You have ignored my text messages for eleven days.” 

You’re shocked by that because as far as you’re concerned, he has not texted you.

“What are you–” You furrow your brows at him, frantically pulling out your phone. “You haven’t texted me. See? The last one I got was–” You take a second as you pull up his texts and remember the exact time he texted you. So late into the night, right after…that. Naturally, you silence yourself, afraid to say it out loud.

“On the contrary,” Sunghoon denies your proof. “I texted from my personal phone.”

You hesitate again, looking down and noting the notifications under the tab of  “message requests.” To be fucking fair though, you didn’t even know that existed so you never really paid attention to it. Especially as you practically avoided your phone out of fear that he’d be texting you again. 

You were thankful he didn’t. That comforted you. Now though? Your comfort is replaced yet again with anxiety because, well, he texted you consistently after that night.

“Oh–” You say quietly, seeing a glimpse of “Please, let me call y–” in one of the messages.

“I didn’t see those.” Quickly, you turn your screen off and shove your phone back into your pocket, nervously clasping your hands in front of you and looking to the floor. 

“I will reiterate then.” 

You can hear the leather on his chair squeak against his expensive suit when he leans forward, both hands splayed out on his desk in a wide and intimidating stance in front of you. 

“Wait–” You look around the office now. “If you’re going to fire me– shouldn’t the others be here too?”

Sunghoon pulls back at that, narrowing his eyes before lending a very small and even more nervous chuckle.

“I’m not firing you. I told them I’d take care of your sudden and, quite frankly, unhelpful vacation.” 

You look to the floor again, feeling scolded for your actions but having a genuine reason. If Sunghoon truly is aware of that reason for your absence, he understands too, right?

“I have been beyond inappropriate with you.” He blurts now, that same leather squeaking as he leans back again and looks away from you the moment you snap your head up. “I have reason to believe you’ve not yet reported me, and I’d like to ask for the opportunity to explain myself before you do.” 

You feel a chill wash over your whole body, cold sweat peaking right at your temples as you stare forward. He’s being so professional about this, and that lie you’ve convinced yourself of is showing it’s face as just that, a fucking lie.

So this is it? 

So there it is? A semi-admittance that it was him? That little feeling in the back of your head that wishes it was diminishes within an instant. In fact, you narrow your eyes at him, your nose crinkles, and you feel frustration bubble up in your gut.

“So you admit that it was you?” You ask, needing a full confirmation. 

“Yes.” Sunghoon sighs, leaning back somehow further, creating as much distance from you as possible before unintentionally rolling his eyes. Mostly due to the fact that he was stupid enough to let this happen, mostly to shame himself. “What I did was inappropriate and unacceptable. I didn’t intend for this to ever happen.”

Now you feel a bit…pissed off.

Like? Oh, he didn’t intend for this to happen? What? You mean he didn’t intend to let you fucking find out! Well, as good as he is at playing the part of a slutty man on the internet, he’s not so good at acting in real life, now is he? Saying your false fucking name at work, saying your real name with his cock out?

What in the fuck are you supposed to do about this? Why is he giving you the ability to report him? He’s the one with the power here. He could fire you now and bury the information if he so pleased. After all, He’s besties with COO Lee, right? That bitch in HR has an obsession with him too. Hell, everyone here loves the guy. 

You’re just a bottom of the barrel employee trying to work your way up. If you got him fired, surely he’d make damn sure you never work for a decent company like this one again. Additionally, you don’t even want to report him.

Yeah, it was fucking weird that he just knew it was you and kept going. Super strange that he had to have known after the first call, only to ask to see you in the second one. Why does that turn you on in the midst of this anxiety induced spiral? Why the fuck is the idea of Park Sunghoon apologizing for masturbating to and for you so alluring?! 

Sure, maybe it’s kind of nice knowing that someone of his status would ever find an interest in you, but it doesn’t quite wash the frustration away. You have every right to question, and every right to be pissed off about it. 

Still, in this quiet room, Sunghoon is stoic and all you can think about when you look at him is the way he said “if I were your boss i’d–” and the way he fucked his palm while saying it, implying he wanted it to be you while simultaneously knowing it was you watching. 

Since fucking when did Mr. Park ever show a sexual interest in you? And if he did, why the fuck couldn’t he have just been normal about it?

“That was really fucked up, you know that?” You argue immediately, voice shaking at the speed of which your emotions shift. Your resolve isn’t quite as clear as it probably should be. Perhaps you should report him, or maybe you already should have. But, it’s not like you accepted the truth until he demanded it of you.

You would have let it slide. Both of you could have pretended it never happened. You could’ve gone home and continued working, never paying a cam-boy again had Sunghoon not called you into this stupid, comfortable ass office. 

“In my defense, I was just doing my job. Though it’s my own fault for not telling you, my job here was at risk if you had found out.”

“You made me talk about you.” You roll your eyes at him now, gaining the power and control over the conversation. “And you thought I wouldn’t find out?! What? Did that get you off or something?”

“I–” Sunghoon stops himself from answering that question truthfully. He quickly tries to explain away the stutter instead. Never has he been scolded by an employee, but you’re well within your rights to do so. “I wasn’t in my right mind. I never get called by name during these sessions and I apologize for having you say it.”

“And you want me to report you?” You raise a brow at him. “Want me to just storm right into HR and tell her how you’re a fucking pervert? Want me to tell her how you told me to repeat your name? To thank you for it? Is that really what you want?” 

Are you enjoying yourself a little too much? Maybe.

Sunghoon doesn’t respond though, instead, he runs his hand through his hair and sighs from the stress welling up inside of him. He can only act calm and collected for so long, and it’s been eleven days already. He hates how hearing you say those words goes straight to his cock at a time like this, he hates even more how all of this could have been avoided if he had simply declined your second call. 

But you’re not wrong. He is a pervert, and he did tell you to thank him for the pleasure you were getting from his voice and half image alone. At the time, he was so turned on he really just couldn’t help himself. You fed his sexual appetite unknowingly and now this is the consequence of his action. Being a known pervert.

Is it what he wants though? To be reported? Humiliated?

Fuck.

Arguably, just having you humiliate him like this is enough. Drives him crazy, really. Whether it be from arousal or guilt, or both. 

And for the first time since you started working here, you see him for what he truly is. A strong man to an extent, but he’s crumbling under his own mistake and it makes you wonder just how far he would’ve taken it had you not found out. 

“And what if I didn’t realize who I was fucking myself for?” You glare. “Would you have asked for more? Avoided me here even more? Would you have declined my application for the assistant position because you can’t come to terms with the fact that you’re a fucking pervert?!”

Sunghoon raises his hands in defense. 

“Please–” His voice sounds panicked. “Please, keep your voice down.”

“Answer the question, then. Just fucking own it at this point.” You throw your arms up now, letting them fall back down in a slap to your thighs. “Would you have made my work-life miserable just so you could watch me get off to you? Knowing the whole time? Would you have kept on with that boss slash employee shit just so it felt more real for you?” 

Staring forward at him, you watch him accept that everything you’re saying is likely exactly what would have happened. Maybe he really will try to own it. Which would be… a good thing if you decide to let your own resolve falter.

So fucking secretive, huh? An actual, real life degenerate? And it’s Sunghoon of all people? 

“Maybe…” Sunghoon trails off, making himself seem much smaller than he usually is on a day-to-day basis. “I mean, No–I,”

Oh, he’s actually stuttering.

“And you want me to tell on you? You want me to fuck your life up?” You raise a brow. “As if I didn’t pay you to do it?”

In all honesty, aside from the anxiety and awkwardness, and despite never once thinking of Sunghoon too sexually, things have changed. Drastically. Especially after being confronted with this situation and he’s not intimidating you or using his power to control you. No, he’s giving you the power and quite frankly, you don’t know what to do with it. 

Are you basking in it? Absolutely. Is it nice to see him cower in front of you? In that big plush chair that costs more than your monthly income? Hell yeah.

But goddamn, had he approached you before all of this and asked for a date, or showed interest, you would have gladly partaken in a secret romance with him. He’s intelligent, attractive, clean, and has money. It’s not like you ever expected the guy to go home and fuck himself on camera. 

You never thought he was the type to be so lonely either. Or so desperate, judging by how he acted during those two sessions. Arguably, you always wondered why there was never a ring on those pristine fingers. 

And while you were definitely the victim in this situation, you feel more embarrassed than you do violated. Many nights you thought of how he spoke, how he said how badly he wanted you. It’s embarrassing because you’re starting to love the idea of who those words really came from. The Park Sunghoon, so untouchable in the business world. So untouchable by women and men solely because he appears to be too expensive, too pristine.

But you…

You’ve seen him dirty. 

Part of you wishes you didn’t pay to be humiliated like this. The rest of you wishes you didn’t fucking like it as much as you do.

“It’s only fair.” Sunghoon explains with a short breath. “I feel awful for what I’ve done, and I should have told you the moment I recognized her as, well–” He pauses with a pained face, as if he hates hearing himself say it. “You.”

“Then, why didn’t you?” You raise your brow again, nearly forgetting you’re at work, solely focused on the conversation at hand and feeling relieved at the way it’s going.

Sunghoon shifts in discomfort, looking away from you.

“Do you want honesty?” He asks in a quiet voice, leaning forward on his desk but refusing eye contact. He keeps his gaze lowered the entire time, his voice small and shaky. 

There’s still people in the office, though his door is closed and it’s unlikely he can be heard.

You nod to him with an even smaller “Go on then.”

“I tried to convince myself that it wasn’t you.” He says, shifting his hands and picking at his cuticles. 

Man, he really knows how to act sorry, doesn’t he?

“I avoided you after that first call, solely because I think I wanted her to be you. Which is…incredibly inappropriate.” 

He looks up at you now, searching for a reaction and only seeing you nod at him. His eyes shift right back down as he continues. 

“My avoiding you led you to– um– more services.” He explains quieter, admitting in full the situation he’s allowed to take place, seeming more and more insecure with his words than he ever has before. “I can admit that I have fantasies and needs.” 

Silence. 

“After that first call, I couldn’t help but be entirely attracted to you. The idea of–”

You suddenly find yourself thinking back to all of those things he said to you again, parading as if he wasn’t your boss, telling you what he'd do if he were. He seems to have accidentally found a sexual interest in the dynamic…and he fucking dragged you into it with him. 

“Mr. Par– Sunghoon.” You cut him off, actually feeling a bit of pity now at his admittance. 

His words make you feel like maybe he’s not entirely just a pervert who was intending to make you get off to him from the start. If anything, he probably felt uncomfortable at first knowing who was on the other end of the call. It’s the fact that his real life job was at risk if you found out, and still he indulged despite that. He accepted that second call, he asked for more, he acted like he really does want you.

 To the extent that losing his job was in the front of his mind and he still did it. He ignored the danger of it and prioritized getting off…with you. You find yourself wondering if this would have happened to any other employee under him if they happened to stumble across his stream too. 

Part of you wants to pretend he wouldn’t, because the idea that all of this is happening solely because it was you? It hits a little too hard, a little too deep. 

“Okay, okay. Stop,” You say, keeping your eyes on him and willing him to look up at you. “You don’t have to keep explaining, I get it.”

“No.” He does meet your eye this time, stopping your brain of all thoughts at how differently you see him now versus all the times before. “I do.” 

He’s so honest. Probably too honest for his own good. Maybe that’s why he’s so good at his job, maybe that’s why everyone loves him. Maybe a bit of lying would help him in this situation if it were anyone else, but for you? 

You kind of enjoy the way he’s telling the truth. Admitting that he was desperate, apologizing for wanting you even if just for a brief moment.

“I asked you to turn on your camera for selfish reasons. I asked you to say my name, then I made the mistake of exposing myself because I–” He hesitates, closing his eyes and breathing in deeply through his nose. “I struggled to pretend it wasn’t me, and that she wasn’t you. I very well knew what I was doing, and at the time, I wished that you did too.”

More silence as you stare at him, stunned, slightly in awe. 

“But I knew you wouldn’t have reciprocated. What I’ve done is criminal, and I am encouraging you to report me for it if that’s what you deem necessary.” 

“And if I don’t?” You don’t leave any more room for silence now, feeling desired and validated. 

You can’t pretend that you’re mad, though you were previously. You simply can’t pretend that, now at least, you wouldn’t reciprocate. If anything, you’re more interested now than you think you ever would have been before. 

“We can forget any of this ever happened. I’ll stop streaming and accepting private calls, and we can hopefully move forward without any ill-feelings of one another.” He blinks at you, near pleading with his eyes. “I’ll push your application through– That is, if you still want the position.” 

Sunghoon does wince at the bribe, considering he’s never done such a thing let alone commit acts of sexual harassment, or perhaps even non consensual foreplay with someone. It really really wasn’t entirely intentional, and he’s disgusted with himself. If you report him, he’d take the hit to his reputation and career, but if you don’t…what then?

Ill-feelings, he says? If anything, you might feel more ill parading around like you wouldn’t want him to do all of those things he said previously, with free-will to say as he pleased without the fear of you knowing who the words were coming from. 

“Can you please stop with the professional talk?” You hum out with an exhausted eye roll.  “I don’t want the promotion if you’re just offering it so I don’t rat you out.” You narrow your eyes now and lean yourself forward. “You hope to forget this ever happened? Really?” 

Carefully, the two of you watch each other for a while longer. Sunghoon looking like he’s about to catch himself on fire, and you, looking annoyed and amused. Still, the thick air in the room starts to feel suffocating under the pressure of the “issue” at hand as you scold him further. 

“What you did was predatory. But– I don’t want to ruin your life over this.” 

You watch as Sunghoon listens, his posture opening up a bit more as you speak, showing that he’s being relieved of his stress through your words alone. 

“Are you trying to hold a promotion over my head over this?”

Before he gets the chance to curl in on himself again, you answer for him. 

“Maybe.” 

You continue too, not letting him speak for the time being. Or, rather, giving him a chance to breathe. 

“Should you change your username and continue doing what you want behind closed doors because it’s no one else’s business?” You really watch him this time. “Yes.” 

He blinks at you, raising a brow in slight confusion. 

“Did you take advantage of me?”

He nods before you whisper out another “yes” yourself. 

“Would I let you do it again…?”

Oh, for Sunghoon, it’s hard to breathe right now as he anticipates what you’ll say. Is it going to be a ‘no’ this time? Are you going to stand up and change your mind? Despite just stating you don’t want to ruin his life?

God, hasn’t he already let you?

“Yes.”

Pause. 

“I’m sorry?” Sunghoon responds in disbelief, shifting his eyes to his hands and then back to you. “Come again?”

“Sunghoon.” You make it a point to call him by his name now, ignoring the etiquette of a proper boss and employee dynamic. “I am humiliated by all of this but I can see that you are too. You’ve admitted your guilt and even go as far as encouraging that I report you.” You pause again, knowing that this isn’t where the conversation should be going for any, uh, normal person, you suppose. 

“If you had just told me. If you had said anything about wanting to, like, fuck me, I would have done it with or without the promotion on the line.”

Does that make you sound a little desperate? Yeah. But it’s not like he doesn’t know how badly you need to be fucked. After all, you know, the cam sessions and stuff. You were literally paying a stranger to get you off. 

Shouldn’t he, of all people, know that you were bad-off enough to get laid?

Sunghoon’s issue though, is that he never looks at his employees sexually. No matter how pretty, no matter how much they flaunt themselves at him. He never has, and probably never will again. If it hadn’t been for that single first session with you, all would be well. But now? He’s too attracted to you. 

He wants you so badly.

“If you tell me right now that you want me, in the same way you did on that call–” You stop yourself to really look at him. With the way he swallows, the way his lips slightly part, the way his hands show signs of eleven days worth of nervous habit cuticle picking. “If you do all of those things you said you’d do ‘if you were my boss’...”

“Wait, wait–” Sunghoon stands in a rush, causing you to jump slightly at the sudden sound echoing off of the walls in the office. “Do you understand the consequences of what you’re implying right now?”

“If I fuck my boss, we could both be fired?” You smile, feeling the confidence raise within you. Watching the way he reacts to your lewd words face to face rather than through a microphone. 

“That would be…correct.” He raises a brow. 

“Well, technically, you’ve already been fucking me.” You look away from him, feeling a bit shy even with the confidence, but never having spoken to a man so bluntly before like this? It’s a bit scary. “Would it really make anything worse if, you know, I do reciprocate?”

Goddamn. Sunghoon might be a bit smitten. This situation could have gone a thousand different ways, and you offer the one that includes your legs spread across this fucking desk and his face buried between them?

Oh. Never has he been so willingly turned on at work. 

“Is this what you want?” He asks in a breath, shifting his eyes to the door and walking towards it, immediately reaching for the lock but not quite turning it. 

“Is that what you want?” You counter, turning and staring at the lock. 

Sunghoon hides his nod, wanting you to be the one to answer first. After all, hasn’t he been self-indulgent enough?

“Do you want me to fuck you?” He finally breaks and says it, blatantly, not sugar coated, yet still sweet when the words hit your ears. “After all this, you still want it?” 

You nod, dipping your head a bit against your shoulder. 

Click. 

“I guess I should have known.” Sunghoon plays with his words now, hand dropping from the now locked door and eyes entirely on you. “Do you want me to fuck you, or would you prefer–”

“You.” You smile, feeling your skin prickle at the electricity that enters the room through breath and words alone. It’s the way he already shifted. Like all of that anxiety melted out of him within an instant. 

“No, no.” He stalks towards you now, the nervous Sunghoon is no longer in sight as he makes himself seem bigger, taller, far more intimidating. Just like he was on camera. “The me you saw on screen is not the same as what you’re seeing right now.” He tries to explain. 

“Oh?” You tilt your head, and he only finds that cute. 

Far too cute. 

“You’d do as I ask, right?” His voice shifts to a raspy whisper as he centers himself in front of you, both hands reaching the arms of your chair as he hovers above you. “I’m far more tame online.” 

Tame?! That’s what he calls tame?! 

You stare up at him, keeping your jaw from falling slack as you physically see him shift from being your boss into being a man with a need. Not just any need either. A need for you.

Part of you wonders if he ever truly felt bad in the first place about all of this, because the shift from just moments ago is so dramatic it’s almost scary. 

“So, tell me.” He leans down, inches from your face as his eyes start to fall to a half-lidded stare at you. “You’ll do as I say? You’d let me do it all for you, and not ask me to stop until I feel it best, yes?”

You swallow and slowly nod. Oh god, it really, really, is him. 

“And while at work, you’ll behave?” He continues, lips now ghosting over yours to the point you can almost feel them press down. He’s implying that if you don’t tell, that this won’t be the only time too? Shit. He’s entirely aware of why this shouldn’t be happening, but still making it happen.

 “No matter what I do to you, where or how I do it, you’ll behave?”

You can’t help it when you lift your chin, just a bit to rest your lips against his words, eyes falling closed and hands hesitant to reach out for his perfectly ironed shirt. 

You feel his smile against your lips, with that sharp-toothed grin he rarely offers. 

“Ah, so it’s true.” He murmurs against you, his hand reaching for yours and guiding it for you, straight to his belt. “Dirty, dirty girl.”

A small, pleased, sound leaves your throat when he does kiss you, adding his own pleased hum alongside yours as his hands still hold yours in place over his belt, not quite letting you do anything just yet.

”Gonna be quiet–” He whispers into your mouth, just against your tongue before licking out and against it. “Even when I tell you to moan my name?”

You really shouldn’t be surprised, but you still are. You like this Sunghoon better than the one who stutters and picks his cuticles. He’s owning it, and in a way, so are you. 

 After all, it wasn’t until today that you truly learned what Sunghoon is like when he’s aroused. Not that you ever should have known in the first place. The fact that you do know, the fact that he’s showing you? It just makes this all the more arousing, in your opinion.

All he needed was a green light and within seconds it seems, Sunghoon became the need you’ve been chasing for months now through porn sites and erotic novels. 

You nod to his words, trying to drop your hand just a bit to feel what you’ve already seen. Just to feel how warm he is, how—

“Is that so?” Sunghoon whispers in an amused tone, guiding your hand right back to his belt, only to drop his other hand straight between your legs. “You’re supposed to do as I say. If I tell you to moan my name, you do it.”

Oh, the sexual confusion of what to do and which Sunghoon to obey. All you can do is continue to nod for him, hanging your head with a breath at the way he cups his hand over the entirety of your core. You wore pants today in order to hide your shame, to try and feel invisible based on previous circumstances. You’re not so happy about that now, as you try to feel his touch through the thick fabric only to shamelessly thrust your hips up and against his palm.

He moves his lips to the top of your head now, hovering over you in a perfect stance of power, hand gently rubbing up and and down despite your hips asking for a harsher touch. If anything, it makes him feel better knowing how you react to this. 

In actuality, his relief is sending his arousal through the roof. Not only are you not going to rat him out but…you want more of it? More of him, in particular? Not the facade of him online? 

At this point, if he gets caught, you’re both going down in flames. So, why not enjoy the ride?

Truly, it’s laughable in the way he’s just as amused as he is turned on, relishing in the fact that he wants you and you’re letting him have you despite his past actions. You’re messy too, he’s seen it, and now he gets to feel it. 

“Mhm,” Sunghoon hums against the top of your head, now pressing his own hips forward against your hand. “Feel that?”

The electricity? How hard he is? How needy you are?

”Yeah…” You sigh absentmindedly, bumping his chin with your head when you try to look up at him. You only blink twice before he coos out with a sad little sound. 

He doesn’t say a word after as he removes his hand and instead, grabs both of your hands and places them on his shirt. 

“Go on.” He smiles, waiting to see you to start fumbling against his buttons. 

And fumble, you do. Touching him, for some reason, feels so dangerous. Knowing you’re the one removing his shirt, watching his skin be revealed as it begins to fall open by your own doing? It’s electrifying. Enough to lose your train of thought as you study how toned and smooth his skin is. Just like how you had seen on camera, so clear in front of you now. You’re aching for him by this point, being able to feel his body heat, touch him, feel his eyes on you. 

If you had really known back then who it was you were talking to, you very well may have pretended to not know as well, judging by the way your entire body catches fire for him. 

And as his shirt falls completely open, he’s satisfied with the way you do it. Complacent and docile beneath him, nervous fingers shaking much like he did for the past eleven days. With those pretty eyes looking at him, like there’s nothing in your head at all. 

He chuckles at you, grabbing your hands again and placing them right on his chest, helping your hesitant touch to massage and caress each bump and toned muscle. He intentionally flexes the further down your hands go, all the way back to his belt. 

There, he looks down at where you touch, then back at you with a quirked brow. You stare  up at him, blinking, face feeling hot, and it’s like you move your hands on instinct. The sound of his buckle being unclasped echoes in the room, and his eyes only darken with the sound.

The sound of it slipping from the loops when he takes it upon himself to remove it completely for you, the sound of his breathing, the sound of that zipper, the button, the shuffling of his pants being skewed down just enough to fit your hand inside.

He moans at the image alone, loving the way your smaller hand looks slipping down his pants, the way your breathing is somehow even as if you’re trying to keep yourself calm. So calm, so pretty, but he knows how needy you are. He shouldn’t, but he does, and he uses it to his advantage. 

You’re the one who moans this time upon feeling that little twitch of his cock urging you to grab. And he helps you too, with the way he guides your hand under the front of his pants further, forcing your fingers to grab and grope the thick of his cock, uncomfortable and pressing between his briefs and undone zipper. 

“Still, you’re just looking.” Sunghoon comments, pressing his hips forward slowly and gently. “I’m right here.” He continues to explain the situation to you, as if you’re not experiencing it. “You need me to show you how to touch me too?”

You hesitate with a groan caught in your throat. You’re still processing the size difference that you feel now versus what you saw. Bigger. Thicker. Heavier than you would have expected against your palm. Honestly, you were so focused on the fact that Sunghoon’s cock is currently fucking forward against you that you almost forgot how to jerk a man off by yourself. 

His hand had been doing all the work for you, and you’re quick to take over. 

Sunghoon lends a very small gasp at the way you try to grasp, and instantly both of his arms shoot to the chair behind your head. He grips it, dropping his chin to the top of your head before thrusting a bit harsher into the grip you try to hold on him. 

“Harder.” He exhales, his cock twitching in your weak hold. “Grab me harder.”

You do, squeezing the bulge before intentionally adjusting it for him, allowing the head of his bulbous cock to peek from the top of his briefs. 

His relieved sigh is enough, you can’t help it. With his chin sat atop your head like this, you have no choice but to watch the way he moves his hips. Just like he did on camera. His abs flex with each movement, his arms grip behind you on the chair tighter, and you couldn’t pull your eyes away from his desperate body even if you wanted to. 

You thrust up too, as if your body craves what you’re already touching. And you do crave it, so much so that your clit aches against the denim you’re rubbing up against. Unfortunate that you wore these fucking jeans, honestly.

“Mr. Park–” You let out a small and frustrated cry, using your other hand to try and fail at unbuttoning your own pants. 

He hides his smile at the way you’ve reverted back to his professional title, but pays no mind to it because that’s what he wanted to hear in your voice that night. A desperate sound of his name, a plea, a cry. He can’t help but cling to it and bury that pretty voice into the darkest parts of his brain. A memory he’ll revisit time and time again after this. That sound, those pretty lips, this weak grasp you have. For the time being, it’s his. You belong to him right now. 

“Hm?” He hums out, fucking his hips forward while tilting his head back to look at you. “What is it, baby?”

Oh. You lost your train of thought. 

Thankfully, he seems to do the thinking for you as he shifts his eyes down and watches you try to both please him and remove your own pants. A cute sight to him, really. Someone who was just scolding him for wanting this, fumbling for more? 

So cute. 

He chuckles, pulling his hips back from your hand and grabbing it, unbothered by the loss of your touch. Instantly he intertwines his fingers with yours, and grasps your other hand from your pants to do the same. Both your arms raise by his guidance to the back of the chair before he releases them. 

You watch with a slack jaw and half-lidded eyes as he lowers himself, right onto his knees before he unbuttons your pants for you and very politely pulls them from your legs. 

“This what you want?” He smiles, lying his cheek right against your exposed thigh and taking a deep inhale. It’s taking everything in him not to fawn over the woman who had him in his thoughts for the past however long, truly. 

Then again, he’s weak. He doesn’t even look up at you through his words and, instead, nuzzles his nose right up and against the seat of your panties before inhaling with a pleasant hum. “To have me finally touching this pretty pussy for you?” 

God damn, if you didn’t already know it was him on that camera, you do now. He speaks the same type of words, with the same confidence, the same sultry tone…

You can barely comprehend the way he slowly takes his own pants off because you’re too focused on the way he runs his lips across your skin with dirty thoughts spilling from them. Fingers tucked under either side of your panties in preparation before he eventually pulls them off of you. 

“Did you wear those pants to hide yourself from me?” He comments now with an amused tone. “Knowing you wanted me to take them off of you anyway?”

You shake your head at him, holding your breath. You did wear them to hide, but you never would have expected this situation to go in a direction involving his mouth anywhere near where you need it. Sure, you assumed he would have rejected you, you assumed that if it was him– he’d have been so disgusted with himself that he’d only gag at your presence. 

But no. You were bold in your words, and he seems to feed into that. 

“No?” He furrows his brows and lifts his head. Now lowering your panties much like he did for your pants. He’s quick with his next action, seemingly hiding his own desperation through playful comments at you. “Why not?” He adds, instantly pressing his thumb against your clit and fucking shining his eyes up at you with a semi-pouted mouth. 

You roll your eyes back at the sudden pressure, relaxing your shoulders and slouching down in the chair. Your legs spread further on instinct, granting him a full view of your sticky cunt parting open for him.

His eyes glance down, peering into the heat you offered once before ever knowing it was him looking. Clicking his tongue, he can’t help but bite his lower lip to hold himself back. He hopes you don’t notice the way his hand finds its way to his own cock, he really, really hopes you don’t see him act so pathetic over this. 

But you do. The moment your eyes roll back into place and get a look at him. One of his shoulders is moving, but the action is hidden by not only the chair, but his fucking face. He’s got his lips parted and he’s licking his lower lip. Slicking it up with his own saliva before–

“So quiet,” He hums with glistening lips, lending himself a light hold with his cock and pretending it’s you doing it for him. “You have nothing to say for yourself?” He adds now, inhaling once more the scent of your slick dripping for him as he leans in just a bit more.

“Oh–!” You yelp slightly at the feeling of his teeth digging into the flesh just to the side of your core. He bites down harder and harder, licking the flesh between his teeth before sucking hard against it. The sweat and scent of your full-day at work does nothing to calm his raging cock. He loves it and it only grows his appetite for you. Licking, sucking, nibbling at the skin until he’s sure he’ll leave a nice, painful swell to rub against your panties later. Only then does he release your skin from his still-tasting mouth. 

The relief when he releases your thigh is short lived because he offers not even a full two seconds before you feel his mouth circle your clit. Like he can’t help himself, like he can’t tease you right now even if he wanted to. 

 A flick of his tongue sends a shiver down your spine straight to your toes and you can’t stop your legs from immediately wrapping around his head. You hear his muffled “mmf” when you do that, but he keeps you from apologizing for it because his free hand goes straight under your ass and scoots you even closer to his tongue. 

And if you didn’t already think Sunghoon knew how to use that mouth for more than just being a professional business man, you do now. With the way that same tongue that used to taste the morning coffee you’d bring him now tastes you. Deeply. 

He licks, flicks, and sucks every fold. Slurping up any dripping heat that slips out of you before pressing his tongue in and nuzzling his nose against your clit. He’s not quiet about it either. He moans with each lick, hums every time your legs squeeze around his neck, slurps and loudly sucks. 

It’s pornographic, it’s sexy, it’s–

Suddenly, you feel a sharp jolt shoot through you, having not even noticed his hand moving from your ass to your front, moving straight up under your shirt. His fingers immediately find your nipple and pinches hard. So hard that your previous moan only becomes prolonged. Grows louder, breathier. 

He pinches and massages your nipple with the intent to keep you loud for him. Office setting or not, he could give less of a shit about that right now. He ignores the strain on his wrist from your bra, he uses his other hand to grip himself harder, and you can’t help but squeeze him tighter between your thighs until you’re, quite literally, shaking.

Your hips are sliding against his face with each jolt of pleasure, practically riding him, and his cock is now entirely neglected because you can’t help but want more. You need more. And he gives it, by now releasing himself and keeping both hands on you. One holding the outside of your thigh, almost pushing you to squeeze tighter, the other incessantly abusing your nipple. 

He chokes out a moan through his messy movements, never quite knowing where to put his hands solely because he wants to touch all of you. His cock is just fine being neglected, he thinks, as he realizes just how much pleasure he gets from feeling you wrap yourself around him like this. 

It feels better than jerking himself off. 

“Mr. P–” You sigh out, still not quite used to actually calling him his name, but the sound of it reminds you time and time again how wrong this situation is supposed to be. 

You’re sitting on this soft chair, pussy being spread apart by a tongue none other than the man who signs your paychecks. And just this morning you were terrified of him ever even getting a glimpse of you without pants on? God, how stupid could you be? You should’ve been chasing this man’s touch since the day you looked at him for the first time. 

“Fuck–” You moan out for him, brain spitting thoughts at you as each second passes. The danger of this, the fact that he genuinely got off to you before you knew it was him. The secrecy of his perverted thoughts and actions…it’s all so… “So, you’re so – hot.”

You feel him laugh, kissing the pulsing hole of your pussy when he pulls his tongue back to swallow. And for just a few moments, he turns his head, gripping your thigh with his teeth once again before speaking back to you, muffled by the hot skin. 

“Yeah?” He laughs, now pulling his hand from your bra and lifting to your chin, pointing your gaze down at him, forcing you to see the way your thighs nearly suffocate him against your pussy. “Then keep your eyes on me.”

And you do, especially when he uses both of his hands now, nudging them between your legs and forcing them from his shoulders. He rests your legs on the arms of the chair instead and flicks his eyes up at you. 

“You watching?” He makes this a point, blowing a small breath of air straight at your clit before receiving a dazed and slow nod from you. “Keep your legs open too.”

That’s the last thing he says before his mouth is full again, sucking your folds between his teeth before tucking his tongue right back into your hole. He tastes for just a few moments before you feel those same lips on your clit. He lets it throb in his open mouth as he listens carefully to your little sounds, especially now that he’s sliding his fingers into you. 

You gasp, holding your breath at the feeling. His fingers slide in, reaching deep before he scissors them open. And all you feel from it is pleasure. You can’t help that your eyes roll back again, but you do try to keep your gaze fixed on his. With his eyes so rounded, blinking up at you with his strong jaw moving with each swallow of his own muffled moans. 

He sucks your clit, fucks your cunt open, and relishes in the way he will soon get to splay you across his desk and really let you have it. 

And he does this for a few minutes, though in your head it goes by so fast that you nearly get whiplash from the way he pulls back with a wet sound and grins at you.

“Aw, baby–” He coos at the face you make, seemingly disappointed to lose all stimulation at once, but he’s quick to lift to his feet and lean back over you. 

Oh, his cock. It’s right there. 

Oh.

His face– 

“You’re so fucking wet right now.” He murmurs against the corner of your mouth with a raspy whisper, easily and without warning slipping two of his fingers right back into the heat that he just denied himself of licking more. “You hear that?” He continues with a sharp toothed bite to your lip. “How wet you are?”

You groan at the way he slams his fingers in, out, in, out, in…He keeps them there, pressed so far into you that you can physically feel the way your pussy tries to push him out again.

“Could slip it in right now–” He moans out at how tight you clench just his fingers. “Fuck, could be so deep in you.”

Your face feels hot as a bashful feeling overtakes you. His voice hits so much harder when you feel his breath along with it. His fingers, his cock right up against you. You want him to slip it in. To stuff his cock in you so fast, no room to adjust, not a second to even catch your breath. 

God, you need it right now. It’s been too long since you’ve felt a real person touch you, you can’t help that you feel so desperate. The clench isn’t on purpose, your body tells him all he needs to know, all while he tells you all you could only wish to hear fall from someone’s lips.

And not just anyone. His lips. 

You shoot your arms around his neck and it's not really intentional but– an actual kiss. You need it. 

He seems pleased by it though, with the way his tongue immediately asks for more. One hand moves to brace your cheek, the other still fucking into you so good that you can’t keep a single moan down. He takes full control of the initiated kiss solely because you kissed him first. Almost hungrily, he licks into your mouth with his own muffled groan, encouraging you to keep being pretty like this. Just so you can see what he’ll do to you. 

And, damn. He guides your body like a puppet, stiffening his shoulders when he licks into your mouth and threatening to pull away by raising  himself up just a bit. He knew you’d chase the kiss, and you do. You lift with him, your ass lifting from the chair just to keep his tongue against yours, and he takes the elevated position and angles his hand just a bit. There, his fingers fuck into you harder, faster, so much fucking deeper until– you feel his fingers stop at a painfully deep spot inside of you. 

He pulls back from the kiss, looking down between your bodies, and your eyes follow his gaze. Right there, he’s placed his knee up against his own wrist, forcing his fingers to remain deep and unmoving in you. 

You take in a sharp inhale, seeing the way he lets your body fall back to the seat of the chair, only forcing him to skew his fingers and– “Oh, god!”

You moan out so suddenly that it even shocks him for a moment, but he takes your weakness and uses it to his advantage. Quickly, he licks into your moaning mouth, tickling his fingers upwards, pulling even more animalistic sounds from you. 

“Yeah?” He whispers frantically, so turned on by the way your entire body stiffens. “Right there?” He continues, leaning his full body weight forward with his knee, wincing at the way he presses his cock against anything he can find in the process, just to get you off right here, right now. 

You nod just as frantically, toes curling, arms shooting to the chair in a form that should appear as discomfort, but really you’re just bracing yourself through the tensing of your muscles before all of them relax and pulse at once. 

Your ears pop, but you can still hear your desperate cries of his name somewhere distant. You can even hear him, humming and encouraging your orgasm. You wish you could hold your eyes open to see him, to grab him and force him to fuck his fingers hard into you. God, you could take it right now. You could take just about anything to heighten this feeling of stars bursting behind your eyelids. 

Somehow though, it’s like he knows. Half-way through your orgasm, you feel the weight between your legs shift and his fingers start moving again. Still, your eyes are squeezed shut, and you can't help but to lunge forward and hug against his neck, clinging to him through the prolonged orgasm that his fingers alone have brought to you. 

“Squeezing me so tight–” Sunghoon groans, unsure of if he’s referring to the way your needy cunt crowds his fingers, or the way you cling to him like a lost pet, begging for him to never leave your sight. “Fuck, you’re so pretty like this.”

You hear those words over any of his others. So clear in your head as you snap your head up and look at him. You see him lower his gaze, but your grip doesn’t quite allow him to actually look down at you. Not when he has to physically hold you up anyway. Still, he looks amused up there, knowing that single compliment must’ve hit somewhere inside of you.

You’re not sure why, through all this, Sunghoon calling you pretty makes it so much more intimate. And even as your legs continue to shake, and you release your death grip hug on him, he keeps himself crowded up to you. He’s somehow out of breath just like you are, relishing in the calm silence of your post orgasm as he…Jesus.

It’s not just your imagination. Somehow, it is intimate. It’s the way he pulls his fingers out and both hands shoot to your face. First, he kisses you as if you’re a long lost love. Deeply, slowly. Then, he’s putting one hand at the small of your back, nudging his knee right back between your legs, and pulling you right up against him. 

“Who did you cum for?” Sunghoon asks, pulling back just to lick against your lips and stare directly down at you. “Say my name.”

You don’t hesitate, echoing out with a winced expression, still so out of breath while rubbing your clit to the expanse of his thigh. 

“Su-Sunghoo-Sunghoon-” 

“Yeah?” He encourages you, hearing his name heat his ears up. He moves his pussy-slicked fingers to your mouth while you cry his name, and easily presses your tongue down with them, sliding the digits further and further down your throat. “Sunghoon.” He says his own name. “Say it again.”

You gag around his fingers, unable to obey his demand. 

“Sung–” He inspects the way your tongue struggles against the intrusion in your mouth. “Hoon.” 

You swallow around them now, sputtering, tears now running down the outer apples of your cheeks. He watches you do it too, wondering how good that would feel if it were his cock you’re swallowing around. Knowing you’d probably do it for him if he wanted to right now. 

But…he needs more than that. Despite how delicious you look while gagging, his cock has been neglected and he needs to fuck out the stress from the past however long you’ve been avoiding him. It’s like his brain breaks with the action as he watches you take his fingers in whatever way he offers. You let him do whatever he wants. You’re obeying. 

“Up.” He suddenly says, pulling all physical contact with you away as he turns, steps out of the pants restricting his ankles, and swipes every pen, file, and picture frame off his desk. “Come here, baby.”

You feel like you’re melted to this chair right now, in all honesty. You’re still trying to catch your breath just from touching his cock before he decided to make you see fucking stars, to think you can stand right now is insane.

So, when you don’t immediately hop up and throw yourself onto his desk, he turns to look at you. 

You’re splayed out, legs still spread, toes still curled. Your chest is heaving to breathe, eyes wild and lips so fucking kissable. 

“Oh, fuck.” He sighs to himself in realization, relishing in the image of you he’s only recently been craving. “Look at you.”

You lift your arm to hide your face, feeling apologetic for the way you’ve lost the ability to exist as an active participant right now. Even more apologetic when you glance down at how fucking hard his cock is. Raging hard, so pretty with the tip sputtering precum for god knows how long. 

He watches you stare, and lends you a few moments to catch your breath by gripping it himself. Leaning himself against his desk and twisting his wrist with a tight grip at the base. 

“Is this how you looked at me when I did this before?” He asks, flicking his wrist still with each drag. “So out of it, you look like such a mess, babe.”

You find yourself humming a confirmation to him as you watch, almost reverting back to who you were during that first session. Unseen, only heard, all while you got to see him pleasure himself to almost nothing. You gave him nothing. 

You’ve still only given him nothing. 

And so, very slowly, you force yourself to stand on shaking legs to take those two strides to his desk. Something inside of you tingles when he drops his cock and opens his arms for you, like a good boss would do in this situation. Supporting your unbalanced weight, letting you walk into his comforting grasp. 

“Said my name so pretty, you know.” He comments gently when he holds you close to him. Hands reaching down from the grip around your waist just to grab both of your fleshy ass checks and squeeze them. “You want more, yes?”

He’s quick to the point, only allowing the short and sweet moments to last just enough for them to stick in your head. Just enough to have questions about his actions. Just enough to give him anything, everything, he could want if it involves your body.

You nod almost shyly, dipping your head down and leaning against his chest. 

“Let's get this off of you then.” He smiles with a gentle voice, reaching to the hem of your shirt and pulling it straight up, watching how you lift your arms to help him. “Mhm–” He hums again, loving how the bra drags off of you along with the shirt. He lets both of his hands brush your nipples before he goes back to gripping your ass cheeks and spreading them. 

Spreading them so wide that, once again, you have to lift on your toes just to let him play with your body. Which, oh man. Always wearing his button down shirts, his blazers, his long-sleeve shirts. You can’t help it when you tug at the opened fabric of his shirt, asking silently that he shake it off. Wanting to see his arms, wanting to see the strength in them.

And he does it without hesitation, letting his hands fall from you just for a moment to shake his shirt off, only now hugging against you again and forcing a position change. He turns both of you so now you’re up against his desk, and he’s standing in front of you.

It’s easy for him to push you back in a kiss. Your legs open for him on instinct anyway, so he need not worry about prying those legs open again. You do just as expected when he pushes you too. Your ass hits the desk and you lift on your toes to sit on it. Your legs spread wider, making room for him to step even closer, cock right up against you when he closes any amount of distance, and still? He’s kissing you. 

All across your face, down your neck, back to your lips. And his hands just keep feeling. Massaging your tits, lending small taps to your ass, holding your chin, jaw, neck, and then…he runs them through your hair. 

The feeling is so good you almost forget how you’ve been trying to steal a glimpse of his flexing arms as he grabs at you. Goosebumps prickle and you let out a groan at the pleasure of it. He keeps one hand there now, smiling against his kiss to your ear. 

“You like being pampered?” He asks, now gripping a fist full of your hair and skewing your neck to the side. “Like being moved around like a puppet?”

Never once have you thought about your sex life that way, but when you think about it…maybe. After all, you did enjoy being told when and how to touch yourself, being allowed or forbidden from cumming. Now, with him quite literally moving you around with just a simple grip of your hair? Yeah. 

“By you–” You mutter out as you open your eyes, staring at the ceiling and feeling his tongue lap against your earlobe. 

“Just me?” He leans back, using that same grip in your hair to force you to look at him. “You’d give me that power?”

You nod against the grasp, lips falling open in a moan despite not being pleasured by anything aside from the stinging against your scalp as he pulls little hairs a bit too tightly. 

“You know–” Sunghoon starts now, pressing his hips forward, dropping his other hand to his cock and slapping it right against your weeping cunt. “If I had known you were this dirty...”He sighs out at the image in his head, thinking back to all those times he silently complimented you in his head. Back then, never would he have made comments about your legs out loud, or how your tits would look in certain shirts. Thinking back now, he’s always found you quite beautiful.

Quite fuckable, even. 

You listen to the silence waiting for him to continue, feeling the way he presses the hardened head of his length against your clit repeatedly. 

“I would have propped you up on this desk months ago,” He smiles now, leaning in real close to your ear as his grip in your hair loosens just a bit. “Could’ve had you moaning my name this whole time.”

Then, you feel it. The way he adjusts his weeping cock lower, prodding at your hole just a bit until his tip is entirely enveloped by your clenching walls. 

You swallow a moan and hold your breath, legs shooting around his waist and instinctively trying to force his hips to move forward, trying to force him to penetrate you deeper.

“Shh,” He coos out, holding his hips firm and not letting you control his movements. Then, he kisses just under your ear before peppering them all the way back to your lips. He doesn’t kiss you though, no, he chuckles at you for trying. Watching you let your tongue fall from your mouth, inspecting the way you’re entirely in tune for him right now. “You really want it, don’t you?” He whispers just above your lips. “Want me to fuck you right here, right now?”

You nod absentmindedly, legs still trying to force him to move, arms clinging under his biceps, head still forced into whatever position he keeps it in by the hair. 

“Please–Sunghoon.” You cry in a small voice, feeling as if you’re going insane by the feeling of his tip sitting comfortably in you. 

“You’re so cute.” He smiles, lending you another inch of his length before letting his hand fall from your hair. There, he grips your waist instead, letting a strained grunt fall from his own lips this time. He’s really trying to remain collected about this, and he’s unsure himself why he’s enjoying the act of teasing you like this. He feels like he’s teasing himself more than you right now, seeing as how it’s taking everything in him not to stuff his cock into you hard and fast. “So–so, fucking cute.”

You clench around the few inches in you and it appears that’s all he needed to break entirely. Is he controlling you, or are you controlling him? 

Honestly, who gives a fuck?

You feel his arms shake when he plants them at either side of you, pointing his cock straight into you and sliding in fully. There’s a groan from him that you want to hear so badly, but your own heart beat is thumping in your ears so loudly that you miss half of it. 

The stretch is delicious, and the fact that it’s Sunghoon doing this to you makes this all the more enjoyable. The man who you’ve seen day after day, now holding himself up on the desk you’ve signed papers on with and for him? All so he can angle his hips and shove his cock in? Just to let his arms frantically wrap around your waist? Just so he can scoot you forward on this desk, using your leaking slick to slide you back and forth in time with his hips? 

That groan you wanted to hear? He hasn’t stopped. He’s essentially, controlling the entire situation and when you half open your eyes to witness his face, you’re forced to roll your eyes back in a moan matching his. 

He’s fucking you so deeply right now that all you can do is moan, all you can do is forget the embarrassment, the victimization, the way he’s doing this to you despite the risk of reality crumbling. He could lose his job, you could lose yours, and yet still– he’s fucking you like he doesn’t care.

So, you choose not to care either in the form of grabbing his hair, forcing his head back, and attaching your lips right against his adams apple. You feel him swallow and breathe out a shocked sound, and then? You suck.

Intentionally, you suck, bite, and lick, harder and harder until there’s a deep purple mark there. He doesn’t even fight it, though you feel him try to move his head just to keep you from going too insane with it. You don’t care though, because still you feel his cock splitting you open, forcing you to adjust to him. 

“Ah,” Sunghoon lets out another breath with that familiar chuckle, “Marking me now?” 

You hum a confirmation as you move to a new spot on his neck, absolutely fucking marking him. Feeling devastated by the idea that he’d do this with any other employee. Or any other person in general. 

“Making me all yours, huh?” He continues with his cocky words, feeling the way your pussy clenches him tightly, dripping all over his desk. He’d let you make him yours, with or without the bruising from your mouth. 

“Mhm.” You hum pleasantly, letting out little yelps each time he slams into you. Letting out full moans each time his arms wrap around your waist tighter. 

You continue with the act, littering his pretty neck with your touch and loving how he just lets you. Knowing that he’ll show up at work tomorrow looking a bit tired, but glowing nonetheless, trying to hide all these marks with that tight-necked collar he likes to wear. 

“Whatever you want.” He breathes, letting his hips lose rhythm for just a moment as he feels his muscles tighten. “Fuck, you’re still so tight.” 

You feel like you’re on top of the world as he compliments you, to the point you’re not sure when you’ll cum because your whole body has seemingly been feeling euphoria anyway. Everything feels good, even if his cock reaches deep enough to cause little jolts of pain. The sound of the desk scooting back through the force of his hips is enough to make you take it. Enough to squeeze your legs around him tighter, enough to clench, enough to– forget what you’re doing and let yourself fall into it with him.

Your head falls back from his neck and you pant out little half-calls of his name with each thrust. Your legs loosen from around him too, but his grip on your waist only pushes you back on his desk. Until he’s leaning forward so hard with each thrust that suddenly your back meets the cold wood.

Sandwiched between him and his desk, he follows the action, his hands quickly moving from your waist to your tits, pushing them together just so he can nuzzle his face between them.

There, you look at him. You really look at him. 

What a messy, messy, man. Always so pristine during working hours, now looking so wrecked and out of it as he chases a pleasure that you hope only you can give to him. 

“Mr. Park–” You sigh out in a pleasant voice, watching the way he sucks your tit into his mouth before his eyes open wide just so he can look up at you through each thrust. “Harder.”

You can physically see the way his eyes darken when he pops off from your tit, hands now going back to the desk as he hovers over you and intentionally rolls his hips. 

You feel his cock loosen you up painfully before he intentionally fucks into you. Dragging all the way out, just to push forward in a deep and painful thrust. Over and over again, all while he’s staring straight into your eyes.

As you look up at him, you see the intent in his face. The way he wants to give you exactly what you want. Sweat shining from his cheeks, his neck littered with pretty colors. Oh, he’s actually heavenly when he fucks. 

Better than what you thought that guy on camera would have been. He’s not nonchalant like he was when he was performing. He’s entirely in tune with you and what you want. Like what you want is what he wants. 

You can tell he’s paying no mind to his own face or expression, blatantly putting all of his thoughts into how he’s pleasuring you, his eyes searching your face to tell him he’s doing well. To tell him you feel good, to tell him you’re close or–

“Fuck–” He sighs out, teeth tracing his bottom lip as he glances up, keeping pace with the way he’s been plunging into you. “I can’t keep looking at you,”

You smile, feeling dazed and far away. It feels like it’s just you and him. You’re not in his office, on a desk, or doing anything you shouldn’t be doing. 

“You hear me?” He drops his body weight on you again, letting his hips move freely as he chases and chases. “I’m so close.”

Oh. 

“Then look at me.” You huff out, now shooting a hand between his flexed abs and simply…touching your clit once.

 “Oh–shit.” 

It hits you so fast. Just a simple touch causes your pussy to clench Sunghoon so tightly that he mimics your sound. 

“Ah, fuck- fuck,” His voice sounds frantic as he tries to pull out, only to feel your legs shoot back around him. This time, he lets you force him to stay. He lets those legs of yours push him back in, so deep that he knows he can’t fight. “No, no–” He chokes out, uncaring if his hips show you that he’s lying with his words. “I’m cumming– I need to–”

“Stay!” You shake beneath him but your voice sounds pleading, pressing once more to your clit before letting it go. You clench him again, essentially letting your body finish him off. Letting those clenches squeeze him so tightly, making sure he couldn’t fathom ever wasting his cum. “Don’t pull out.”

He doesn’t. In fact, he presses impossibly deeper, trying to bury his cock into you to the point it even pains him. Arms shaking as he tries to hold himself up again, only to drop his lips to yours under his own weight. His hips are so tense between your legs, his cock is so stiff that you can feel each pumped release, and still you’re experiencing your own euphoria through it. 

To the point your toes are curling and you barely notice the way you leave welts across his back from your fingernails through the intense orgasm. To the point his slack lips against yours feel more natural than anything else. Not kissing, just close. So close that–

He kisses you. 

After it’s all said and done, he still kisses you breathlessly. Passionately almost, clinging to you as his cock twitches as it grows flaccid inside of you.

He doesn’t pull out, he just…kisses.

And as you lay against his wooden desk, body coming down from the pleasure you’ve felt more than once within the past hour, all you can do is let your brain think on its own. Without shame, without embarrassment or anxiety. 

You thought Sunghoon would have been in control the whole time. Teasing you, maybe even making this experience more painful than it needs to be. But no, he…

He’s soft. Gentle, almost. 

Only now do you recognize that as badly as he probably wants to appear harsh, like the confident man he is on camera, you think he needs something else. Not just power, not just money or control. Not even just fucking. 

You think…maybe, Sunghoon needs connection. 

Intimacy. 

And that’s proven when he does finally stand on his own buckled knees, pulling you up with him into a hug where he still kisses you. Up until he takes that shirt you unbuttoned and holds it between your legs, scratching the back of his neck with a shy glance at you. 

“Sorry for the mess.” He echoes in a meek voice, holding that shirt firm against you. “Guess I just couldn’t help myself.”

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Days later, you find yourself in his bed. Which should have been expected probably. Still doesn’t change the fact that every few hours, you remind yourself the reality of the situation.

It’s not just any bed you’re in. It’s Sunghoon’s bed. 

“Oh, right. The promotion.” Sunghoon suddenly calls out mid-episode. 

You’ve been here with him all day. To the point neither of you bother to put on clothes now because you know the spark will come back at any given time and you’ll be all over each other again. Still, lazing in his bed with him on a Saturday afternoon is nice. 

“I’ve been a bit occupied but– the interviews for the assistant position has been pushed back a bit due to you not coming to work.  I was supposed to notify you when you got back, but you know, we had priorities–” 

Sunghoon sighs, embarrassed. It’s nice actually, seeing him in his natural element. Allowing you to see him as more than just the guy that wears a suit and tie every day at work. 

“Unrelated to us…doing this, but, you’re up for the interview. Just need to schedule it with me. If you still want to be my assistant, I mean.”

“Oh, I can only imagine what that could entail.”

Sunghoon seems offended by this remark as he pulls back with furrowed brows.

“Excuse me?”

“Did you fuck the last one too?” You give him a playful smile, prodding at his soft-skinned chest.

“Absolutely not?!” 

“You’re still gonna fuck me too though, right? Even if I’m constantly having to nag you for signatures and meetings?” 

Sunghoon stares at you before smiling. 

“Well, let's see if you get the job anyway. Rhonda from Marketing is applying too.”

You lend a half-joke gag at him. 

“Is it too forward to ask for special attention for the position along with a sexual favor?” You tread the thin line. “I’m half joking but wouldn’t it be like…normal for us to be seen around each other at work if I’m working a job that requires it?”

Sunghoon thinks hard.

“You’re really asking to fuck your way up the ladder?”

“Aren’t you the one who offered it so I wouldn’t tell your dirty little secret?” You narrow your eyes at him. “But no, I’m asking for the job I’ve been trying to earn for ages. Besides, I’d still fuck you anyway.”

“Fair.” Sunghoon thinks harder still. “Rhonda would probably find out too, if she were to get the position anyway, considering my assistants are often intertwined in my personal business as well.”

“Oh, I’m personal business now?”

“Babe, my hand has been on your tit for an hour now.” 

Well, he’s not wrong.

“Rhonda is really close with HR too…” You trail off, feeling a bit anxious. “I think she’d hold it over both of us if she found out.” 

“In all fairness, you’ve been considered for the job more than a few times the past few months. Rhonda only applied during your two week avoidance of me. The reason she’s even up for the position is because my boss thinks you’re too flaky.” 

Oh, so you have a chance with or without putting his dick in your mouth again?

“Who else has applied?”

“Confidential.” Sunghoon shrugs. “I still have to follow company rules even if we’re breaking a few of them right now. What I can tell you is, over fifteen other candidates have already been phased out by me personally.” 

You pause.

“Why?”

“Bad matches, mostly. Two of them have been caught talking shit about me through the company emails, and the others? Many outside applicants, all freshman college students with strict schedules.”

“Being my assistant is not an easy job, and even before all of this, you’ve practically been doing the job already, better than the current assistant I have.”

You damn fucking right you have.

“How many are still in the running?”

“Two.”

Oh, this job is soooooo yours. 

“Just, one more thing.” Sunghoon sighs. “If you get this job, we cannot be fucking in my office. No sexual stuff at work. We can take lunch together, or I’ll bring you home after work, but absolutely nothing at work.”

Oh, he thinks you want him that badly? 

“Who says I need to fuck you during work hours anyway? I know how to control myself.”

“It’s not you who I’m worried about.” Sunghoon looks away, biting the inside of his cheek.

“Yeah?” You smile. “You gonna be calling me into your office just to torture yourself?”

“Oh, absolutely.” 

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

pls remember to leave feedback and reblog! :D love you!

[sleepdeprivedartboi]

One thing I appreciate star wars for always showing consistently is that 95% of all Jedi can't help but be good.

Like this isn't a matter of just being a good person or being trained to be a good person. They literally cannot help but be compassionate and caring. Even when they are doing wrong things, like in acolyte, it is still out of good intentions. It was a huge misunderstanding of course, but they just want everything to be good, which is an unrealistic goal and sometimes that results in bad things because of point of views.

But I can appreciate the fact that not a single fucking Jedi in the entirety of star wars wasn't good when presented with the opportunity. (Pong krell does not count and he can suck my dick) They simply couldn't help it, as the grand inquisitor says in Kenobi. The smart thing would be to not be involved, but even when they are being ACTIVELY HUNTED, They cannot stop themselves from butting in and helping others. Obi wan tried , but ended up helping, Cal tried to hide, ended up exposing himself to save someone, Ezra and Kanan, Ahsoka, Quinlan voss, and these are just the main people , who knows how many other survivors tried to help and ended up sacrificing themselves just so like 3-4 innocents could live. They didn't do anything on a grand scale, but those little acts of kindness probably helped hope from dying out completely.

The Jedi are the literal embodiment of hope and goodness and I fucking love that. Despite everything, and all the defamation palpatine did, the people still considered Jedi good.

Like you know shit is bad when even the criminals are like "the empire is had for business, the Jedi were better"

And i appreciate it. The galaxy is a harsh place, and so is the real world. So it's wonderful seeing a faction that is just good. Sure they made mistakes with Anakin and some other times but like that's upto the people imo, not them as a whole. Where there is pong krell, there is also mace windu, there is also obi wan and Yoda .

And I appreciate them for showing this consistently. Do they make mistakes, yes everyone does. But they were completely finessed by palpatine into losing their way and they STILL managed to do their best.

I am a proud Jedi sympathiser and will probably be executed for that in the empire.

[lady-lauren]

❥ SATORU GOJO X FEM! READER

❥ WORD COUNT: 2.1k

❥ WARNINGS/TAGS: incest (big brother/little sister), hatefucking, degradation, Satoru's hand smothering your mouth, some dub-con tones but really you both want this fucked up situation, semi-public sex (the door isn't closed and it really should be), creampie

Dead Dove Do Not Eat. Read those warnings again.

→ Kinktober Masterlist ←

You’ve always eclipsed his light. A stain on his legacy, a re-shifting of the scales when you were born.

Always on his heels, nipping at his skin. 

Satoru wonders how many times the two of you have tangled like this—fury and jealousy, adults carrying the bitterness of spoiled children.

“Are you even trying?” 

You’re pinned beneath him, both of you wild and uncoordinated, driven more by emotion than immeasurable skills. 

“Fighting dirty isn’t fair, ‘Toru,” your tits are heaving as you try to catch your breath, hips squirming and bucking to keep mean fingers from playing with the one toy he was never allowed to have.

“Excuses, excuses,” he tuts, bicep flexing as he catches your wrist in an attempt to scratch his cheek, “you like when I play dirty, little whore.”

One step away from a tense family dinner had him cornering you in some tucked away office with your dress bunched around your hips on the floor.

Satoru thought fucking you would depredate you, make you take on the burden of his sins. Instead it’s only wrecked him further. Now he tastes you in the back of his cheeks whenever he looks in the mirror.

God he hates you. Because you make him sick, make him do sick, nasty things and you barely try to fight back. 

“It’s like you want to get fucked by your brother, hm?” he thinks aloud before pressing his mouth against yours. He cups your neck, pulls you closer, pays attention to how you grunt and tug at his shirt. Your nails catch buttons, scratch into skin. 

He shouldn’t kiss you here, where any roaming maid or distant cousin could catch a glimpse of what the Gojos do when no one is looking. 

But he’s at a point where he wants people to look, wants people to see just how fucked up you both are.

“Toru,” you hiss, “stop, get off—”

“Oh shut the fuck up. We don’t have time for the but ~Satoru~ we shouldn’t song and dance. You always let me have you, so be quiet and take it.” 

Still, you fight, like you always do. Your toned muscles push and shove, one leg nearly smashing air from his lungs. He catches your calf in time, insatiably mean fingers digging into your soft flesh and forcing your thighs apart. He can tell you bite back a whine of pain, too prideful to let him know when he hurts you.

“You cannot do this here in the fucking floor of—” 

“Really? Would you rather me take you to your old bedroom so you can cuddle your stuffies while big brother fucks you stupid? Hm? Is that what you want?” 

“What I want,” you try to pull his hair like a child, “is for you to find someone else to be obsessed with. What about Sugu? Oh, that’s right you—”

Just the sound of that name makes him want to rip you apart, smash you to such small pieces that he’ll never have to think of you again. Satoru clamps his hand over your babbling mouth, squeezing until his knuckles turn white and you actually whimper.

He’s going to fuck you into the floor, into oblivion, until all you can think about is him. It’s only fair. 

Satoru keeps the pressure on your mouth, forcing his free hand between your spread thighs so he can shove two long fingers into your cunt. Your panties are soaked around the edges of his knuckles, pussy drooling and squishy as he thrusts and scissors in the way he knows will make your eyes roll. 

“You sure are wet for someone who doesn’t want this.” 

He knows you do. You don’t have to tell him—you probably never will say the exact words aloud. He won’t either. 

You roll your hips back as he fingers you, the dress around your hips falling open like wilting petals against your skin. 

The palm of his hand eats your moans, still small and breathy, desperate to feel more than just the squelching spread of his fingers. 

He wants to punish you, wants to bruise your pussy with his knuckles and make you scream. But he doesn’t have that kind of patience. His cock is smothered in his pants, straining and thumping against the floor. Pre is already leaking into threads; he feels another drop bead against his cockhead as your cunt squeezes when he curls his fingers into a spongy spot that makes you buck.

It’s so wrong and fucked up that he knows that soft spot within you, knows that if he rubs it a few more times it might actually make you cum in his hand.

“God, is your slutty cunt this messy for other guys? Such a fucking pain in the ass—you’re gonna stain the rug.”

Only he loves how easy access your slick makes you. Just a few movements—glossy hand down his pants, shoving the waistband down over his ass, plugging his tip into your hole—and he can thrust his cock all the way to the back of your pussy. 

You manage to bite into the side of his palm, canines pressing into sinew as you weep for him.

Fuck you feel so good, too good, tight and full with the most familiar, decadent squeeze around his thick shaft.

“Pull your tits out,” white lashes flutter as he pushes in, out, “lemme see ‘em.” 

Like always, your fight is gone the moment he’s buried in your cunt. Your hands scramble to obey him, nearly ripping the delicate straps of your dress so you can pull it down, breasts falling on display. Satoru keeps his eyes on the bouncing fat, biting his tongue when your nipples harden into the most delicious looking buds.

You muffle a cry at a particular cruel thrust, legs starting to burn and shake from the weight of his hips between them. Your lips are swelling behind his hand, sloppy with drool. 

Satoru shifts back, getting on his knees so he can curl your leg against your bare chest and worm his way to the very depths of your pussy. The sound is lewd, all wet and gushing, each push of skin on skin making him prickle.

His keen senses perk—footsteps in the hallway, voices through the wall. Dinner guests shuffling about in the absence of the prodigal siblings. 

Your eyes flash toward the cracked door, yet the little ah, ah, ah~ behind his palm won’t quit.

“Yeah? You want someone to find us? Want them to see how your big brother pounds into your guts because he can? Because you’re a little fucking slut who lets me?”

The annoyance that flares to life as your gaze returns to him has his balls tightening. You hate that he gets the best of you. This is the one way he can, by making you weak and wet and willing for his cock.

Satoru presses his hand to your belly, presses in deep and hard until the heel of his hand meets the outline of his dick. 

“Feel that? Feel how fucking full you are with my cock?” 

He uses strength he couldn’t on anyone else, barreling his hips until you’re moving back on the floor, rug scrunching beneath your bodies as he pounds into you so recklessly. 

You whine, actively try to bite his hand, to suck his skin, to hurt him. 

“Oh please, you can take it. You’re a Gojo.”

That reminder makes you both groan, your cunt sucking as his cock swells. 

He wonders for a split moment what really draws you together. Lust? Failed parenting? Some mutual sense of rebellion? All of it, probably, and some other sick, twisted shit laced in between. 

Your little fingers start prying at his over your mouth, clawing and plucking his knuckles. 

He shows a little mercy and releases his hold on you, only to clamp both hands down on your hips so he can fix your pace and build a faster rhythm. 

You suck in a deep breath, “Kiss me.” 

A pale brow quirks at your request, smirk tugging at his cheek. 

“Really? And why should I? Thought you didn’t like me.” 

“Oh my, ah, god, Toru, I ask for one nice thing. Just,” you reach for him, gripping onto his flexing biceps and pulling him down, “just do it, for me.”

He was always going to oblige you. He hates admitting it, but he’d kiss you all the time, if you’d let him. 

Satoru’s lips meet yours with a bruising fervor. 

Your hand tugs in his snowy hair, drags him closer. Your mouth moves against his, eyes closed, suddenly greedy and hungry; for what, neither of you really know. All he does know is that you still taste the same, like home, and he wants your breath in his lungs.

He is a snake, wrapping around you, suffocating, crushing until you can’t breathe anything but the poison he spits.

Your mouth slants for him, a hum resounding from both your throats as your stomach starts to get tight, tell-tell pulls and sucks like you’re begging him to keep stroking the flames.

“You’re so spoiled, aren’t you,” he groans into your mouth, lips messy with spit, “you gonna cum just from my cock? Do I fuck you that good?”

“God, sh-shove that fat cock deep and cum inside me—”

Your demand makes his blood run hot. 

Satoru throws his head back and laughs, maniacal and oh so satisfied. “You’re spoiled fucking rotten. That’s what mommy and daddy did to you, spoiled you so fucking much you think you deserve everything. Even me.”

Because you started this, didn’t you? When you got old enough to be so fucking tempting in your twenties, started flirting with his friends and batting your pretty eyes at all the higher-ups. When you got strong enough to match him, to take up space in his light.

“Fuck you,” you purr like you’re trying to mean it, like you’re trying to deny him. “Hate you so fucking, ah, god–shit—” he’s got your clit pinched between his fingers now, pressing until he knows it hurts, “make me cum and let me go.”

White hair spreads into the sweat of your skin as he buries his face in your neck. He’s so close to losing it, to being done with this.

“I’ll do one of those things. Let you figure out which one.”

Satoru grinds his cock into your gummy walls, cock strangled in your suction. His pelvis is rolling against your clit, coarse curls making your legs twitch. 

The moment he gets his thumb over your clit, it’s like dropping a match into gasoline. You both burn so hot, melting into one another as he explodes and you convulse. No matter how many times he feels you cum, hears you whisper his name and choke on the three little words you never say, he will never get used to it. 

So familiar and foreign and fucked up, the kind of drug that scratches at his brain and begs from more. 

He empties his balls into you, creaming into a cunt he should never touch let alone fill to the brim. 

You’ve never told him he can’t, that he shouldn’t. You both know it’s abhorrent, disgusting, but maybe that’s why you keep letting him do it. 

He’ll still watch you take your morning pill, though, just to make sure.

Your bodies lie panting in a forgotten corner of the home you both hate, the scent of sex rolling in the air like smoke.

“Get off me and go.” 

Shame is wavering in your voice, it always does. He can understand why you feel it—he does too, he just morphs it into some kind of wicked hatred so he can still sleep at night. 

“One last ~kiss~?” He mocks your voice and revels in how you claw your way out from under him, trying to pull yourself back together and catch the cum dribbling down your thigh. 

“Fuck you. Fuck this. It won’t happen again.” 

And it shouldn’t. But it does. It always happens again. 

Because he wants to hurt you, shame you, make you feel weak in his arms when you shatter and cum. Because he hates how much he loves you. So he wants to crush you, wrap around you like a viper and pop you out of existence. 

His life would be so much easier if he didn’t have a spoiled brat of a sister. 

You make him want to eat his fist when you swipe his cum from between your legs and put your fingers in your mouth, smiling because you know he’ll return to dinner with a tent in his pants. 

You live to torture him, he’s sure of it. 

[fangsandfeels]

I gained the next level of appreciation for how well Dragon Age 2 understood trauma, the ugly side of it.

I don't blame Fenris. I understand why after enduring years and years of abuse, humiliation, having your autonomy, your memories, everything that constituted you including your own name stripped away from you, you have no empathy for anyone reminiscent of your abusers - especially if nobody came to save you in the end and you are the only one fighting for your life and freedom. I understand why upon hearing how someone (who reminds you of your abusers) suffers unfairly, the only thing you can say is "Good" - and lash out at anyone trying to tell you off for it. Where all these fucking preachers were when you were suffering? Why even in the land that is supposed to be different from your own hellhole, your word and your experience still don't matter?

I don't blame Anders. I understand why after being betrayed by your own parent, after the decades of listening how you must suffer for the sin of being born, being confined to isolation, being treated like a monster while being a child, being denied the simplest of comforts, you fiercely defend people who share your abilities - because nobody else would ever look out for you and them. Of course you would clash even with someone who has legitimate reasons to be negative towards people like you because your own wounds sting more than their pain. You have dealt with the Chantry's vile propaganda for so long, you no longer take things at face value. Of course, Chantry would say that the foreign land where mages rule is foul, and corrupt, and full of blood magic and demons! So many times rumors, lies, and twisted religious depictions have been used to abuse, lobotomize, and enslave you, you're no longer letting it happen - and you only believe what you see and hear. And all you see around is injustice and indifference. And you're only the one screaming into the void, raging against the horrors everybody else is willingly blind to.

I don't blame them both for losing their mind in their own ways while the rest of the group silently wondered why they couldn't just be normal.

Personally, I don't think there was any chance for them to become friends or make peace during the events of the game. The "I suffered so I don't want anyone to suffer like I did" or "I'm a bigger person" are pretty lies and half-truths at worst. At best, they are mindsets only possible after someone who suffered finally feels safe and can be out of their survival mode. Which is not really true for Fenris and Anders, even during the final act of the story.

Even on high friendship or romance, Anders is still self-destructive, ready to die at Hawke's hands after launching his plan in motion. Even with a friend/lover at his side, he is alone in his head, in his vision of the world, in his pain.

Even with proper support and help, it takes Fenris three years to accept a relationship, but it doesn't change his perspective and if you don't have enough of his trust, you lose him to his trauma-based response.

I may be overthinking it, but I am truly thankful to the game for not toning down the complex, hard and uncomfortable aspects of trauma. People have always been in love with the concept of the perfect victim (who hates only "the right" bad guys and suddenly knows when to be tolerant, nice and accepting and doesn't say any rancid and hateful shit ever), but it became particularly aggravating lately.

[sleepy-steve]

steve "dies but doesn't stay dead" harrington and eddie "ferryman of the river styx" munson // 1.5k // inspired by this post ♡

—

november 1983

It wasn’t a bad gig, as far as eternal work in the Underworld went. Eddie didn’t even have to row the boat. He was more of a figurehead. Someone for the souls to follow. Someone to guide them. Seemed like an odd thing to entrust to a dead eighteen year old from the middle of bum-fuck-nowhere USA, but Eddie wasn’t going to argue. Didn’t even know if he could. It had all gone very smoothly. All the souls doing exactly what they were supposed to be doing. Until Steve appears.

Eddie spots him sitting on the riverbank, knees pulled up. Looking a little too casual, in Eddie’s opinion, but he didn’t know the guy’s life. Some souls were more prepared than others.

“Hey, man, time to uh, get moving,” Eddie says, and cringes at himself. He’d already been spoken to about his boat-side manner. But how were you supposed to talk to people that had just died? Eddie still hadn’t quite worked it out. Was supposed to find his own words, instead of working off a script.

“Hm?” The soul looks up in mild surprise. He looks to be about Eddie’s age, and has a black eye, a split lip, and a nasty cut across his nose. Jesus, wonder what happened to him. It wasn’t polite to ask, Eddie’d been taught.

Eddie gestures vaguely at the boat. “C’mon. I’m taking you to the next part.”

“What happened to the last guy?” The guy tilts his head to the side, hair flopping with the movement.

“What?”

“The last guy who was on the boat?” The soul asks, waving a hand in the general direction of the boat. Even from where he stands, Eddie can see the bruises on the guy’s knuckles. “It used to be an older guy, tallish, beard…?”

“I… I don’t know, man.” Eddie flounders. He’d had some chatty souls before, but none that asked questions he wasn’t trained to answer.

“Hm…” The guy hums thoughtfully, nodding to himself. Shifting slightly, he settles into a more comfortable position.

“So…” Eddie stares at him with wide eyes, brows raised expectantly. “You gonna get on the boat or…?”

“Nah.”

“…What do you mean, nah?” Eddie asks incredulously. Was that even allowed? What would happen if a soul didn’t get on the boat? Would Eddie get in trouble for not collecting him?

“Not getting on the boat.” The guy smiles at him, a little crooked from the scar across his lip. “I won’t be here long, don’t worry.”

“What…?” Eddie trails off, before recognition drops into his mind. It was that smile, it reminded him of… “Steve? Steve Harrington?”

“Yeah?” Steve confirms, brows pulled together in confusion. “Wait… holy shit… Eddie, right?”

“Yeah!” Eddie leans over the edge of the boat, bringing him as close as he dares. Close enough to see the blues fade into purples in the bruises on his face. The trail of dry blood still under his nose.

“You died, like, not that long ago, right?” Steve asks, not making any moves to get closer.

“Yeah, yeah, house fire.” Eddie waves him off, not wanting to dwell on the memories of his shitty father and those last moments where Eddie tried to save the few good things he had left. “Fuck, man, I’m sorry you’re here though.” Professionalism is out the window in favour of familiarity.

“Ah, it’s okay,” Steve waves him off back. “Like I said, won’t be here long.”

Eddie knows what this is. Denial. He’d seen it many times since starting this job. “Steve…” He keeps his tone soft, just like he was taught. “I know it can be hard to accept, but you’re dead. That’s why you’re here. You have to get on the boat in order to move on.” Steve is giving him a bemused smile, and Eddie feels a twinge of irritation. He’s doing his best. “I’ll be with you the entire time, I promise.”

“That’s… nice, man,” Steve says, slight grin still on his lips. “But I’m not getting on the boat.”

“Steve. You have to get on the boat.” Eddie throws his hands down to gesture at said boat, exasperated.

“No, I don’t.” Steve gives a little shake of his head.

“Get…” Eddie loses steam for a second before gearing up again. “Get on the boat, man.”

Steve just blinks at him. “I don’t need to.”

“Get on the fucking boat, Steve!” Exasperation is in each word now, Eddie losing his patience. If it wasn’t completely against the rules, Eddie would have jumped off the boat and dragged him on by the collar of his stupid sweater. The souls had to choose to move on.

With a glint in his eye and a half smile, like they’re in on some joke together, Steve still doesn’t move. “No.”

“You’re dead, man,” Eddie snaps. Fuck, he’s losing his cool and is gonna get told off for it. “The sooner you accept that, the better.”

“Woah, woah, Eddie.” Steve holds his hands up. Placating. Another ripple of annoyance runs through Eddie. “Okay, just—I know I’m dead. But I don’t stay dead. This isn’t the first time this has happened.”

Oh, okay. So Harrington is delusional. Eddie briefly wonders just how hard he’d been hit, looking over Steve’s bruises. Was this what killed him? Eddie holds back a grimace. “Just… get on the fucking boat, man. I know it’s hard, but you have to move on. Also, I might get my ass handed to me if you don’t, so like, maybe do it for me?”

Steve laughs good-naturedly. Hopeful that he’s finally gotten through to him, Eddie can’t help but crack a smile at the sound. “So, s’that a yes?” he asks, keeping his tone light.

“Sorry, man,” Steve laughs. “Still a no.” Eddie slumps over the side of the boat dramatically, hair almost dipping into the black water. “But don’t worry. Last guy never got in trouble for not collecting me, so you should be fine.”

Pulling himself back up with an exaggerated sigh, Eddie settles with his forearms on the edge of the boat. “Okay, Harrington. I’m choosing to trust you,” he says, giving Steve a pointed look. “Can I ask…” Steve raises a brow. “What, uh… what happened? To you?” Eddie gestures vaguely at Steve’s overall appearance. The black eye, the cut across his nose, the split lip.

“Oh, this?” Steve points to the bruise. “This isn’t what killed me. Got into it with Byers. Not important, really, anymore…” He trails off before shaking himself. “This, though…” Lowering his knees, dropping his denim-clad legs to the grass, Steve reveals several deep wounds to his chest and stomach.

Eddie lets out a low whistle at them. “Christ, Harrington. You get attacked by a bear or something? We even have bears in Hawkins?”

Steve snorts. “Nah, I don’t know what this thing was. Some kind of alien-monster-creature. Face opened up all…” Steve holds his hands around his face, wiggling his fingers in a fan. “…creepy.”

Looking at him with furrowed brows, Eddie isn’t sure if Steve is messing with him, or genuinely believes that a monster killed him and that he’s not going to stay dead. Eddie stays silent, assessing him.

“Anyway,” Steve clears his throat, awkward under Eddie’s stare. “Nancy and Jonathan are probably freaking out right now, I’ll have to explain when I wake up.” He’s rambling, Eddie notices with slight amusement. “Which should be soon, though this might be the longest I’ve spent down here. Last time was quicker for sure.”

“Last time?” Eddie asks, unable to stop his curiosity.

“Yeah, the, uh, car accident,” Steve says. “Got t-boned at an intersection, died on the spot. Woke up with a broken arm, three broken ribs, and this crazy head wound.” He waves a hand around the side of his head. “Got lucky, all things considered.”

“Right…” Eddie vaguely recalls hearing about Harrington’s car wreck from last year. But surely he hadn’t died. It wasn’t impossible, but highly unlikely.

“You don’t believe me.” Steve grins at him, and Eddie feels his cheeks warm at it.

“Can you blame me?”

Steve considers him for a moment. “No, I guess not.” His head turns sharply, as though he hears something that Eddie doesn’t. “Time’s up.” Steve stands, brushing blades of dry grass off his jeans. He gives Eddie a two-finger wave. “Until next time, Munson.”

“Wait, what?” Eddie leans over the side of the boat again as Steve turns to walk away. “Where are you going?”

Throwing a thumb over his shoulder, Steve huffs a laugh. “Back.”

“Steve!” Leaning dangerously far over the edge of the boat, Eddie calls after his retreating form. He watches with wide eyes as Steve quite literally fades from view, figure growing more translucent until finally disappearing completely. Unable to pull his gaze away from the empty grass field where Steve stood just a moment ago, Eddie only has one thought in his mind:

What the fuck?

[demonic0angel]

“Excuse me! Ms. hero!”

Cass held her finger from pulling the recoil trigger on the grappling gun. She casted her gaze around the few pedestrians still meandering about searching for the owner of the voice. A woman at the end of Crime Alley ran towards her.

“Please wait!” the woman said.

Cass put away her grappling gun. The girl stopped in front of her, bending over to catch her breath.

“Do you,” she gasped, tucking a red lock behind her ear as she straightened, “Do you know RedHood?”

Jason?

Cass nodded slowly.

"Will you pass him a message? Please, it's important.”

Cass nodded again.

“Tell him,” She paused her nose crinkling as she thought of what she wanted to say, “Tell him that Jazz is in Gotham and is looking for him.”

“I'll tell him.”

The girl thanked her and turned to leave when Cass quickly blurted out. “He's not here.”

“Wha- where is he then?”

“On mission.”

“When will he be back?” a pregant moment of silence passed before the girl got it, “Ah, that's probably classified.”

Cass stared at her.

The girl coughed nervously and then said, “Uhm. Sorry for bothering you. You can— uhhh, please go back to what you were doing before.”

Cass gave her a curt nod and then shot her grappling hook, flying away in an instant. She narrowed her eyes as she silently kept her gaze trained on the tall girl still standing there on the ground, looking distracted.

How did she know Jason?

Well, Cass would only find out when she asked Jason.

Hours later, when Jason came back from his mission, Cass ambushed him in the cave. He looked tired and his entire frame radiated ‘LEAVE ME ALONE’ like he was nuclear waste, but she ignored his sharp glare and approached him.

“Someone asked for you.”

“Oh goody,” Jason snarled. “Can people leave me alone for one fucking second?”

She ignored his sneer and repeated her requested message dutifully, “She said, ‘Tell him that Jazz is in Gotham and is looking for him.’”

Jason froze and stiffened. His eyes widened and Cass stared at him in wonder as his closed off, aggressive body language fell and bloomed into one of hope and awe.

“A-Are you serious? Jazz? Red haired, doe eyed, beautiful? Did she look like that?” Jason asked hurriedly, a look of wonder entering his eyes.

There was love in his eyes.

Cass stared at him very intensely, trying to print the image of her little brother in love into her irises. She nodded after a moment when Jason glared at her and then said, “Yes. And very tall. Taller than you.”

Jason paused, lifting his eyes upward as if to imagine it. Then he smiled and shook his head, seeming to mentally shake off his thoughts. Cass almost wanted to tell him that he looked crazy, but decided not to say anything.

Jason then smiled at her. “Thanks for telling me. She only said she’d be looking for me?”

Cass nodded. Jason beamed and just as he was about to frolic off, she grabbed him by the wrist and yanked him back. Immediately, he groaned, already knowing the questions she would ask.

“Who is she? When did you meet? How did you meet? You like her?”

“She’s a friend, we met a long time ago in a place you wouldn’t know, and nunya.”

Cass squinted at him. Then she said, “Fine. But I won’t hide this. Tim and Bruce will know.”

Jason groaned, long and deep for a moment before he sighed. “Whatever. Thanks for being the messenger. Can I go now?”

Cass continued staring at him. Jason kept a good attempt of a poker face from her, but it was useless. After making him squirm for a few more minutes, Cass gave a single nod and he left promptly without another word, almost on the verge of running to get away from her. Cass remained standing there, staring at his retreating back.

She’d get to the bottom of this…

After all, she didn’t get many opportunities to tease her brothers….

[suhkusa]

TO THE TOP.

PAIRING. Sakusa Kiyoomi x f!Reader

SUMMARY. Sakusa Kiyoomi was ranked #1 in his class. Was, at least until you came along. After this revelation, he makes it a (personal) challenge to overtake you. Sakusa Kiyoomi is a genius at everything he does, but for once he finds it a challenge when it comes to you.

CW. hurt/comfort, angst, fluff, rivals to lovers except kiyoomi is the only one competing, idiots in love (but theyre actually geniuses), high school setting, ~3k words

A/N. Got inspired from a tiktok and came up with this word vom hope u enjoy

Everything came easy for Kiyoomi. Academically, at least.

While all his classmates found themselves struggling to take tests or study, it was as natural as breathing for Kiyoomi. There were some cons to being as incredibly intelligent as him, but he found himself drowning in the gratification of being #1. 

At least until the 2nd semester of his third year. At least until you.

———

Class Rank: 2

Sakusa finds himself staring at the transcript in his hand, as if his ogling would have an effect in changing the number presented before him.

His eyes scan through his class history, looking for any clues as to how he might’ve dropped in ranking. But there was nothing. All A’s, and as many extra classes stuffed into each year as possible. 

Kiyoomi’s home room was rowdy as students caught up with one another, as winter break had just ended. While in his own little world, his ears catch onto a couple of words his classmates threw around.

“I heard Sakusa isn’t the top in our class anymore, is that true?”

“Woah, hasn’t he been the top of our class since the 1st year? I wonder who was able to catch up,”

His eye twitched a bit at that one.

“It was that new girl, Y/N,”

The paper crumbled slightly under his grasp. Y/N?

The ring of the bell, signifying the start of class, caused him to slightly jump in his seat. Kiyoomi crumbles his transcript before tossing it in his bag, it’s going to change soon anyways.

He would just have to step up his game.

———

It was ironic really. The world really loved to test Sakusa Kiyoomi, and not only at his school subjects. Of course, you were his desk partner in his math class. Only he had the amazing luck of being seated next to his new self-declared rival.

Kiyoomi knows it’s rude to stare, but he can’t himself because you’re the number one student? You?!

Honestly, you don’t seem like the academic type. You seem too pretty to be caring about stuff like that. At first, he considers the fact that you could be using your looks to get people to do the dirty work for you. But he witnesses first-hand as you write down every math equation, answer every question correctly, and even check your work not once, but twice.

His hyperfixation on you is bad. So bad, he missed the whole introduction lesson and is trying to rapidly copy down what’s on the whiteboard as the teacher is erasing it. Fuck-

“Would you like to see my notes?”

Kiyoomi’s pencil comes to a halt as he looks back at you, your papers are being pushed towards him on the desk. He watches as your eyes widen, as if you suddenly became self conscious. 

“I-Is there something on my face? You were staring at me so I wasn’t sure…”

Shit. 

“No,” he tries to make up something, but what comes out of his mouth is stupid, “I was just looking past you,” it appears it’s sufficient though, as you nod in response.

“I see, well, did you want to see them?” you gestured to the notes between the two of you.

Kiyoomi tells himself that if you hadn’t offered, he wouldn’t have asked. But since you oh so kindly offered them up, who was he to say no? He doesn’t need them. He could always ask his cousin, though his handwriting resembles chicken scratch more than human writing.

“Sure,” he takes the papers and positions them in a way where he could just look between them and his own.

In his head, Kiyoomi is scolding himself over and over again for not paying attention. This cannot be a regular thing. If he was going to take back his rank, he needed to be on his A-Game. 

His pencil slaps against his desk as he finishes, quickly sliding your papers back towards you.

“Thanks,” Kiyoomi offers.

He watches from his peripheral vision as you smile and give back an “Anytime,” before gathering your things and getting up to go to your next class.

Kiyoomi doesn’t know what it was about you, but he could tell he was going to need to up his game. This was war.

———

By the second week of sitting by you, he decides you’re annoying. More annoying than the people who talk while the teacher is talking. Which, in his book, is hard to beat.

Maybe you weren’t as smart as he pinned you to be, since you kept helping Kiyoomi with his work when he did not need it. 

Though, you were only able to backseat his work because you somehow finished before him. He’s used to being the only one who sits back and relaxes as the rest of his class struggles to complete the practice problems. 

It’s weird though. Because as much as Sakusa hates your yapping, he doesn’t find himself putting an end to it. Instead your voice plays in the background as he completes his work.

He hates it, or at least that’s what he tells himself, the way you praise him like a little kid when he finally completes the work sheet. 

“Nice job!” you smile at him, “but, how come you don’t check your work to make sure you’re right?”

“Because I’m always right,” he replies with a slight roll of his eyes.

You laugh at that, I’m not joking, he thinks.

“You’re funny, you know that?” you tell him. 

Kiyoomi gives you a shrug, “Whatever,”

———

A month in, he begins to indulge in your shenanigans. But only because he had felt bad.

During the third week of sitting by each other, you had taken his short and dry responses personally. You halted your chatter and no longer offered to help like you usually did. The way the classroom felt quiet without your talking was eerie, so Sakusa reluctantly decided that he’d rather hear your voice instead of nothing at all. 

So a month in is when your friendship, or whatever you called it, began with him.

“Why do you use erasable pens? Just use a pencil,” he questions you, eyes peering down at your pen.

You look taken aback as you respond, “I don’t know, is there something wrong with it?” you examine your pen, “I just found it on the floor and stuck with it,”

First of all, gross, remind him not to touch you or your belongings ever. “It’s just a hassle, sometimes it doesn’t erase,”

“Well, it hasn’t given me any problems, so!” you exclaim as you get back to write on your practice quiz. “This is kind of challenging, huh?”

“Nah,” he lies, “You’re just stupid,”

You laugh in his face, “Rude,” Kiyoomi watches as you glimpse at his paper before going back to yours, “That’s why you got the first problem wrong and I didn’t say anything,” 

Sakusa can feel his eyebrows scrunch up, he’s quick as he glances at it and then yours. Fuck. He’s mumbling something under his breath and he begrudgingly erases the circle around his answer. 

“Told ya,” you smile before moving onto the last problem, “you know, we should hangout or something,”

“No,” he’s quick to cut you off, catching you by surprise.

“Whaaat, it doesn’t have to be like that, weirdo,” it seems like you’re going back on what you meant, “Like to study,”

“Still, no,”

“C’mon, don’t knock it till you try it,” you nudge at him, and to be honest, if you were anyone else he might’ve punched you, “please, just once,”

You’re annoying and pushy. But he supposes that if saying yes to you would get you to leave him alone, he’d say, “Fine, whatever, it has to be my house, though. Your house is probably messy,”

Kiyoomi watches as your face slowly brightens before silently celebrating to yourself as you get your way with him once again.

———

“Wow,” you’re amazed as you walk through Sakusa’s house, “your house is so nice, do you have a maid to keep it clean or something?”

“No, just me,” he says before leading you into his room, “please don’t make a mess,”

“I won’t, I won’t,” you say before settling down on his rug, playing with the soft threads, “Okay, I was hoping to review the practice quiz, I know the teacher said I got it right but I feel like there were some parts that had me second guessing myself,”

You’re quick to open up your textbook and blab about whatever problem you were having trouble with. You actually came over to study. Kiyoomi was under the impression that once you got over to his house you’d make him do whatever silly shit you usually have in mind. But no, you actually respected his wishes. Which in turn, earned you some respect from him as well.

“So you’re number one, huh?” He asks, looking up from his textbook to meet your eyes.

“Yeah, but it’s surprising that all my credits from my old school carried over,” you mindlessly say as you continue to write on your sheet of paper.

The sound of the pencils scribbling on paper fills the room before you interrupt it, “You were rank one before I came, right?”

His pencil stills, “Mhm,” It was a touchy subject, though he never thought he’d hear it from you.

“I’m sorry,” you surprised him, “When I found out I took your ranking spot, I was nervous because people are serious about that stuff. And then, when I got seated by you and you stared me down, I thought you hated my guts,”

Well, you had it down to the T, but he wouldn’t tell you that. 

“You don’t have to apologize, it’s out of your control,” you smile at his words.

“Thank you,”

It’s then, in his room, when he realizes he’s losing sight of his goal. To overtake your position. As he watched you look back down at your textbook, he found himself locking in as well. 

He needed to get serious, now.

———

These hangouts, or study dates, or study hangouts, whatever, became basically practice. Always at his house, though. Since he couldn’t fathom the idea of how dirty your room might be. 

“I don’t know how you balance volleyball and school, Omi,” you say from your position lying on his floor.

“Don’t call me that,”

You laugh before continuing, “All I do is school and I’m always exhausted. I had to quit my shifts at the cafe down the road because I would fall asleep before making it to my room,”

“Dangerous, Y/N,” he says, frantically writing down practice problem after practice problem. 

Picking yourself off the ground, “Wow, you’re serious about this final, huh, Omi,”

He glares at you, causing you to laugh again, “Sorry, sorry,” your eyes meet his for a brief second before he looks back at his paper, “but you know it’s okay to take a break, right, that’s all you’ve been doing. We haven’t even gotten to try to compete for today’s Wordle yet,”

“Mhm,” is all he offers you.

You sigh in response to that, “Boring, so boring,” you say as you lay back down

“You can go home if you’re bored,”

“Ugh, rude,” you roll around to make yourself comfortable, “I would but sadly I like being in your presence,”

“Whatever you say,”

“Do you like being in mine?” you question, causing Sakusa to hesitate on the problem he was on.

“You’re tolerable,”

You find yourself cheesing, “That’s a yes in my book,”

———

Finals are coming up. There’s so much on your mind, that you finally decide to let one of the thoughts that have been driving you crazy go. The fact that you like Sakusa Kiyoomi. 

It’s nerve wracking. Not only because you’re basically confessing your feelings, but also because he’s your only friend you’ve made since being here. A lot of people think he’s rude and condescending, but to you he’s different. 

He lets you talk your head off about whatever your brain decides fits best. And while he gives you short responses, they show you that he’s listening and observant. He’s on your level regarding academics and can keep up to your train of thought. He just cares.

And while you hope he might feel the same despite only knowing you for the past couple of months, you chalk it up to fate as to whether or not your intuition is correct.

As you approach the gymnasium, you slow and quiet your steps as you hear familiar voices by the entrance.

“You’ve been hanging out with Y/N quite a bit, huh, cous’? Your mom told mines,” you assume is Komori based on his words.

“Yes. It’s not like that, though,” you recognize as Sakusa. 

You assume he might be fronting since it is his cousin, and feelings are embarrassing at times.

“C’mon, you can’t tell me you don’t like her, she’s like one of the prettiest girls in class and she’s smart. So like, your type,” Komori pushes. And while part of you likes that he said that, you soon take it back after Kiyoomi’s words.

“I don’t like her. I only put up with her because she’s so pushy and always hovers over me while I try to do my work. Plus, she took my ranking spot,”

The world feels silent for a second, the only sound audible to you is the sound of your heart slowly breaking.

“She’s just a nuance, honestly,”

Your feet are moving before you realize. Slowly backing away before running the opposite direction.

He doesn’t like you? You were right that he hates you because you’re number one? He let you into his house but only because you pushed him? Your thoughts are running faster than your own legs, you don’t even realize the drips of water slowly running down your cheeks. 

If number one was what he wanted, then you were going to give it to him.

———

Kiyoomi finds it weird. Finds you weird. Well, he’s always found you weird, but particularly as of recent. But only because you’re quiet. And have been for the past couple of days. 

At first, he assumes it’s because the finals had finally arrived and you wanted to focus on your work. Which, respect, because it also allowed him to focus on his own. 

But even after the finals had passed, you were still quiet. You opted for doodling in your notebook instead of talking to him about a new video game you’ve hyper fixated on or this new show you started to watch. 

It’s even weirder when the teacher is going around passing out the graded math finals, that he stops by your desk, letting out a whispered, “I’m disappointed in you, Y/N,” 

Kiyoomi hears, and it calls his attention towards your paper before even his own. His eyes widened.

A big, fat, red 0 marked at the top of your quiz.

“Y/N-”

“Are you happy now, Number 1?” you ask, still looking down at your paper.

He’s about to ask you what the hell you’re talking about before the bells conveniently cut him off, allowing you to take off without a second glance back at him.

His mind is caught up on your words, Number 1. Kiyoomi has never brought up his disdain regarding the rankings to you, ever. Yes, it bothered him at first. But eventually he didn’t mind it, since the only person he’d ever allow to be above him is you. 

Kiyoomi thinks back on any time he’s ever mentioned it before he remembers the one time he had ever verbally brought it up to anyone. But there was no way… unless.

Fuck, Sakusa thinks as the bright red 100 on his paper stares back at him. It mocked him, poking at his head uncomfortably. Without a second thought, he crumbles the paper before stuffing it into his bag. Kiyoomi had finally gotten back what he’s been working for this whole time, so why does he feel empty?

Kiyoomi realizes then that while you may have lost your Rank 1 position, he was the true loser. Because he didn’t have you.

———

He finds himself at your door before he even knows it. He’s giving an excuse of “she left her notebook,” to your parents as they direct him to where your room is. 

When he finally walks in, he’s shocked. Your room is clean. 

Even as you lay in your bed so peacefully, the space around you is clean, and he feels like it’s safe to walk in. 

“Y/N,” is his first attempt at waking you up, before he’s walking closer to your bed, crouching down a bit to pat your back, “Y/N,” again.

It’s by the fourth or fifth time that he calls your name that you finally look up at him, and you look heavenly.

He’s always known you were pretty, but even more so now you were gorgeous, hair messy, eyes droopy with sleepiness. You were perfect.

Your eyes blink a couple times before you look like you’ve processed who is standing before you. Quickly sitting up, hands moving every which way to fix your appearance, “Omi- I mean Sakusa what are- what do you want?”

Ouch.

“You need to leave, I-I don’t want to see you,” your voice is beginning to tremble and it hurts him, “You finally got what you wanted, I don’t know what more you want,”

“You, I want you,”

Your face drops in disbelief, “No, you don’t. I heard you, what you said,”

“Y/N-”

“No, you hurt me, Kiyoomi. I like you,” you cry, “You can’t just say all of that and then show up out of nowhere claiming otherwise,”

“I’m sorry, Y/N,” he’s kneeling now, allowing him to be the same height as you as you sit in your bed, weeping, “I-I’m sorry,”

His rough thumb smoothes away your tears as they fall, “I didn’t mean it, I was frustrated- and that’s no excuse for what I said, I fucked up really bad,” with every word another sob breaks loose from you, “And I’m sorry,”

“At first, all I ever wanted was to be rank #1, but then you came along and changed everything… Then I realized that it wasn’t being #1 I wanted, it was you,” he continues, “and that’s scary, because my ranking was all I’ve known all these years,”

“But even so, you made it okay. I was okay with being #2, I was so caught up in you that I forgot I ever wanted to be #1 in the first place,” your eyes finally meet behind the thick tears in your lashes, “I like you, Y/N,”

He can tell you’re at a loss for words. And for once he can finally say he has out-talked you. 

Until finally, you decide words aren’t sufficient in this situation. Before he knows it, you’re leaning forward, and your lips are on his. The kiss is short, but definitely more than a peck. But it felt infinite to Kiyoomi. He never wanted the moment to end, and found himself sad as you finally pulled away.

You stared him down for a brief second before tackling him down to the ground in a big hug, “I hate you, Omi,” you laugh angrily.

“Sure,” he smugly replies, watching as you smile into his shirt.

“My number one,” you sarcastically mutter as you fake pout at him.

He cringes, “Ugh, don’t. I feel guilty, why would you even do that? You’re crazy,”

“Because I don’t care about the ranking. I never did. Plus it somehow only dropped me to #2 since the rest of our class failed and I’ve taken too many extra classes,” you say, “I only cared about you,” 

Kiyoomi smiles at you before crushing you in his hug. 

Everything came easy for Kiyoomi. Especially now, his feelings for you.

© all writings belongs to suhkusa 2024. do not repost or change.

[sweetfictionalworld]

Mine

Pairing: The Front Man /Hwang In-ho x Female Reader x The Masked Officer

Requested by anon: Reader being with the frontman, and the black guard just like to tease her and get the Frontman angry. Little did he know that the frontman was watching everything and put them both in their place.

Warnings: Nsfw, Smut, Oral Sex, Fingering, Masturbation, Voyeurism, Exhibitionism, Unprotected Sex, Cumshots.

"Mask off."

You obeyed the Officer's command, holding your gaze to the floor as the handsome man approached you.

"How many times have you been here now, y/n?"

"Five, Sir."

"You know, I've always wondered why a pretty, little thing like you ended up here of all places."

"Does it really matter?" you asked and looked up at him defiantly.

The Officer chuckled and stepped closer to you, running his finger down your jawline. You could feel your heart racing at the closeness of his body and the gentle touch of his finger.

"I guess not. But I know why you keep returning. Is the Front Man really that good of a fuck that you continue killing people just to get his dick?"

Your eyes widened and your face heat up. How could he possibly know this?

"I-It's not like that," you whispered and lowered your head.

The Officer's eyes widened in realization and he smiled mockingly. "Oh, I see. You love him. I'm sorry to say it, sweetheart, but he will never love you back. That man's heart is cold as stone."

"And yours isn't?" you asked, looking up at him again. You known for a long time now, that he wanted you. He was always flirting with you, calling you to his office for no apparent reason, just to tease you. And you would be lying to say that he didn't have an affect on you, he was a handsome and attractive man for sure. And a part of you wanted to make the Front Man jealous, to find out if he really cared about you or not.

The Officer smiled at your question. "You're probably right. In a place like this, who has the time to care about someone? But, it can't stop one from having a little fun."

He palmed your face and you held your breath as he lowered his face to yours, his lips nearly touching yours...

"Officer, back away."

You gasped at the Front Man's voice, the Officer only let go off your face and looked at his captain with a wide smirk, not caring about the fact that his helmet was off in front of his superior officer.

"Sorry, Captain. We were just...having a little conversation."

The Front Man walked up to the two of you, placing himself behind you with his hand on your shoulder.

"I do not share my belongings, Officer. And this one belongs to me."

A pang of heat rushed through your belly at his words.

"Oh? Are you sure that's what she thinks too? That she belongs to you?"

"I know so. Because she does everything I demand of her," the Front Man replied. "Now, sit down, Officer."

The Officer glared at the Front Man but did what he ordered, knowing what the consequences would be if he disobeyed.

"Y/n. Take your clothes off."

A wave of heat rushed through your core at his words and you bit down on your lip as you glanced up at the Officer and saw the spark of interest in his eyes where he sat in his armchair with his legs crossed. You closed your eyes and took a deep breath to calm your nerves. What choice did you have but to obey? And did you really want to disobey him? Opening your eyes, you held your gaze on the floor as you took of your mask and started undressing with trembling fingers, too self-conscious to meet the Officer's eyes.

In-ho smirked where he stood behind you, his dick twitching at the sight of your naked, tempting form.

You shot a glance upwards at the Officer, arousal spiking through your at the sight of his lust-filled eyes staring at your naked body.

"On your knees, y/n."

Cheeks flushed, you obeyed his command and dropped down to the floor.

In-ho smirked and lifted your chin, his voice dark and husky as he spoke again.

"Open that pretty mouth of yours."

You obeyed again, opening your mouth and sticking out your tongue as the Front Man zipped down his slacks and took out his cock.

The Front Man tapped the head of his cock against your tongue. You flicked your tongue across the slit of the head, earning a breathy growl from the Front Man. Encouraged by his noises, you leaned forward and wrapped your lips around the head of his cock. Slowly, you started bobbing your head, sliding your lips up and down his length. With each bob, you took more and more of him into your mouth until you started to gag.

"See what a good girl she is?" In-ho smirked and looked up at the Officer who kept staring at the sight in front of him. "She does everything I tell her to do. Even here. In front of you."

The Front Man grunted and grabbed your head, pressing you down on his cock and bucked his hips against your face. You choked and spluttered as his length pushed down your throat. The Front Man growled and released the grip on your head, allowing you to breathe. Gasping for air, you stared up at him and glanced over at the officer. A pang of heat rushed through your belly when you saw the cock in his hand, his brown eyes focused on you as he stroke himself.

The Front Man wrapped his hand around your throat and forced you to look at him. You gasped and stared up at the masked man.

"See how much he enjoys seeing your mouth wrapped around my cock? I bet he's gonna love seeing me ravage you."

"Please...," you whimpered, squeezing your thighs together to lighten the throbbing arousal.

"What's that?" The Front Man snickered and lowered his hand down between your legs, slipping his long finger through your wet folds and into your soaked pussy. You gasped and grabbed his arm, moaning with pleasure at finally having something inside your aching core. In-ho growled at the sensation of your spongy flesh gripping his finger and the sloppy noises your pussy was making as he moved his finger inside you.

"You're absolutely drenched. You want me inside you, little one?"

"Y-Yes, Sir...please...," you mewled, nearly sobbing as you desperately rode his finger.

The Front Man chuckled and removed his fingers, leaving you feeling empty and greedy for more. Your blurry mind was abruptly woken by his cock plunging into you from behind. Back arching and eyes widening, you looked at him over your shoulder, at the erotic sight of him crouching above you and pounding his cock into your gaping, soppy count. You caught something in the corner of your eyes and suddenly remembered the Officer was there. The sight he was giving you sent another wave of pleasure through your belly. He was still stroking himself, his pace faster now, matching the pace of The Front Man's hips. His mouth was half open, his chest heaving rapidly with breathy moans as he watched The Front Man fucking you from behind.

All of these impressions flooding your body and mind were too overwhelming, and you couldn’t control your body anymore as another gush of pleasure swept through your body. Throwing your head back, you pressed your ass back against The Front Man's hips, rutting against him erratically as your orgasm rolled like waves through your body.

In-ho growled and threw his head back at the feeling of your fluttering, clenching walls gripping his cock. He slammed into you one last time, his cock swelling and throbbing as spurts of his thick cum released into your cunt. Your eyes landed on the Officer just as he came, and a fountain of white semen erupted from his cock and painted the floor. You mewled softly at the sight, your pussy gently clenching around the Front Man's cock still lodged inside you as your body relaxed in post-orgasmic bliss. Then, you felt The Front Man's fingers in your hair and you gasped as he yanked your head back, forcing you to look at the Officer.

"This pussy will never be yours, Officer," The Front Man snarled. "You understand that? It belongs to me and I can fuck it whenever and wherever I want. Is that clear?"

"Yes, Sir," the Officer swallowed nervously and quickly put himself back into his jumpsuit.

"Good. Now, come along, little one. I'm not finished with you."

Face flushed with embarrassment, you stood up and scrambled your clothes together, following the The Front Man with your head bowed, already feeling the burn of his paddle on your ass.