“There are no ifs ands or buts when it comes to secual assault/rape. No matter what, the person who did it should be punished. If the person has no proof, still believe the victim. It is better to believe a victim and be wrong than support the person who did it and be right.”
summary: after years of hiding your identity and spending nights fighting off monsters, you're tired of being a magical girl - especially with a new villain known as the king of curses out to get you.
all you want is to be able to focus on your normal life, and when you finally meet a nice guy at a work event for your day job you figure that maybe things are looking up.
if only he wasn't the very villain who wanted you dead.
content: 18+ mdni, smut, angst, humor, betrayal, lying, yandere/obsessed sukuna, confusing feelings, loneliness, falling in love, mentions of past illness, hurt/comfort, manipulation, sukuna is evil but he's also very confused, true-form sukuna, enemies to lovers (and back to enemies and then to lovers LOL), this couple is a mess
I have both no words and so so many about this work. It’s so beautiful and devastating, the kind of fanfiction that could and should be a published novel. And to have an iteration of Sukuna that I think is quite close to the canon is also very refreshing,, just a 10/10 work all around !! I will be coming back to this time and time again
a handful of moments you'd been convinced you were doomed to be stuck in Satoru Gojo's orbit forever - or a handful of ones where he realized he was stuck in yours
pairings: gojo x f!reader x geto
content: MDNI, angst and fluff and smut, childhood friends-to-lovers, crushes, teasing, gojo is so in love it's not even funny, heartbreak, emotional hurt/comfort, eventual smut, threesome, loss of virginity, breakups/makeups, piv sex, oral (m! + f! receiving), fingering, everyone is bad at feelings, complicated relationships, happy endings
scrapbook entries
page one . . .
playground bully | tutoring session
page two . . .
rainy day | happy birthday | prom date
page three . . .
lifeguard duty | long distance
page four . . .
hotel room | goodnight kiss (i) | goodnight kiss (ii) | tennis match
page five - full spread!
spilled drinks
page six . . .
empty seat | lost cause | morning, after(i) | morning, after (ii) | missed chance
page seven - full spread!
double date
page eight . . .
old friend | bad idea | secret letter(i) | secret letter(ii) | secret letter(iii) | night out | two kisses
page nine - full spread!
shattered illusions
page ten . . .
not friends | something worse | not lovers | something better
page eleven . . .
borrowed | blue
page twelve . . .
picket fence | playground kiss
alternate ending . . .
last chance
art by @dinneratgios + divider by @animatedglittergraphics-n-more
Lucius Verus x Empress!Reader x Emperor Geta
request: no
gif credits: @pauls-mescal @pyronovas (gifs aren't mine, please don't mistake them with the original owner)
divider credits: @adornedwithlight @cafekitsune
Summary: Y/n was once promised to Lucius, son of Maximus, shortly after his and the death of Commodus. Fleeing so he wouldn't be killed, Y/n's fate was sealed when she was forced to marry Emperor Geta.
Warnings: 18+, MDNI, forced marriage, first-time, forced sex (non-consensual), forced orgasm, rough sex, slight!possessive!geta, violence, blood, conflicted feelings
Word Count: 3k
Disclaimer: I don't own Gladiator II or its characters, nor do I claim them as my own
Comments, likes and reblog are always adored and appreciated xx
this fic is inspired by Ghost - Griftwood
dt: @willowpains
II & III
Y/n couldn’t remember much after the events of Maximus and Commodus. She saw Lucilla take Lucius from the arena as they carried away Maximus’ body. Her eyes fell behind her as Commodus lay still, blood seeping into the earth beneath him. The young girl sniffled, her eyes torn between watching Lucilla and the gladiators take Maximus away. Wanting to run to Lucius, she followed behind, calling out to him; the young boy held out his hand, their fingers brushing before either could fully grip the other’s hand. Lucilla held Y/n back, crying as she watched her son flee Rome for his own safety so he would not be killed. “Lucius!” Y/n cried, the dust floating through the air as the horses galloped out of Rome. “Y/n!” She heard Lucius scream through his tears; his head turned back to look at Y/n’s solemn face. That was the day Y/n felt true sadness. Until it wasn’t the only one she would face, the worst days would come.
: – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – :
Sacrifice for the horde leads the way from shame
Be it a loser's game
The disdain and abhorred lash of the Senate whip
Ooh, it's a power trip
A tear fell down her cheek as Y/n, now eighteen, stood beside her to-be-husband, Emperor Geta. The wedding ceremony proceeded without objections, and why would they? Dare to interrupt an Emperor’s wedding, and you’ll be killed. Y/n looked to her left, seeing General Marcus Acacius stand where her father would have stood; a few years after Lucius left Rome, her father fell gravely ill and pleaded with the Geta’s father to marry Geta and Y/n, knowing it was a secure and political match. But also, it was a way for Y/n to secure her family's name into power, even if she did not want it. Marcus gave a nod with a small reassuring smile Y/n held back her quiet sobs, feeling the grip of Geta’s hand on hers tighten. His head angled to face her. “I would say it’s disrespectful to cry on your wedding day, but you look beautiful while doing so.” The dark makeup around his eyes made them more piercing as they stared into hers. Geta’s gaze took her breath away, though if he wasn’t the tyrant he had become, she would dare say he was handsome. 𝐕𝐞𝐫𝐲 𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞. But her mind nor heart would allow her to feel such a way about him. At the same time, his other hand grasped her chin. A dark smile spread; he turned to look at the priest, an impatient look on his face. The older man nodded and bowed his head—a sign he could kiss his bride.
Geta wasted no time, pulling Y/n in for a harsh kiss, consuming her startled cry within their kiss. The thunderous applause filled Y/n’s ears as she slapped Geta’s chest, pushing him away. Geta’s eyes widened a wild glint in his brown-hazel eyes, and his wicked grin sent a chilled shiver through her body. Grasping her waist, he faces his subjects, raising his vacant arm. “Behold, my Empress! My beloved Y/n! Bow before her, for she is the new Prize of Rome!” He shouted, his voice echoing as everyone cheered and praised Y/n’s name. Her eyes flickered to Geta’s brother, and now her brother-in-law clapped loudly, a look of excitement filling his face. Y/n pitied him; maybe she had a friend in her new life as Empress. In truth, she knew of his conditions and the on-off ill-treatment he suffered from Geta; perhaps they could be of comfort to each other. “Let our feasts and celebrations begin! Much to be celebrated on the wondrous day, the Gods have spoken and have gifted me with the most precious jewel a man can be bestowed.” He turned his attention back to Y/n, licking his lips, staring her body up and down, the lust evident in his eyes. Y/n shuffled under, wanting to find Acacius, but Geta stopped her. Holding her face in his hands, the coldness of the rings touching her heated skin. “But what a gift the gods have given me. My Empress, for you, you were promised to a ghost. And now you are mine.”
The celebrations continued until the night Y/n sat beside Geta as he and Caracalla cheered and clapped for the entertainment. “It is your wedding day. It should be a happy occasion.” Marcus spoke beside her as he sat in the empty seat; his hand held hers comfortingly. “I cannot be happy, knowing my life is no longer mine. But it belongs to Rome. My husband.” She tried to hold back her tears Marcus’ brows creased in understanding; he felt the sadness grow in his heart; his eyes fell on the Emperor’s before flickering back to Y/n. “Lucilla asked me to speak with you about…” He cleared his throat, pausing momentarily. His deep brown eyes found hers with an uneasy gaze. “Your wedding night.”
Y/n closed her eyes, shaking her head quickly. “No. No, I don’t want to-” She pleaded softly. “My child, as daunting as it may seem, you must. Do not be afraid; I will never be far. I made a promise to you when your father died that I will always protect you, did I not? And for your survival now, you must partake in these acts that involve a husband and wife. Lucilla gave me this to give to you.” He handed her a small gift wrapped in a cloth. Y/n wanted to embrace Marcus, hold him close and never let him go. He was the father she never had, the father she would have preferred than the pitiful excuse of the one she had. “It is time for us to retire to our bedchamber for the night, my wife. Come.” Geta’s low whisper hit her ear; knowing what he meant, Y/n’s eyes grew fearful. Geta’s eyes fell on the General.
“General, might I have my wife now.” He tilted his head with a narrowing of his eyes; though he knew General Acacius meant no threat, it was a man no less in the proximity of his now wife. Marcus leant back, bowing his head gently. “Emperor. Empress. My apologies.” Y/n slowly raised herself to her feet and stood beside Geta. Her husband grinned, spreading his arm wide. “Let the bedding ceremony commence!” The senators clapped and raised their goblets. Caracalla clapped the loudest once again as he wriggled in his seat, brimming with joy. “Bed her well, brother! She’ll be an easy fuck, for sure. Quite fragile to break, like glass.” He jumped in his seat Y/n refused to look at either brother, her eyes trying to find focus on something else in the palace. “I intend to do just that, brother; she’ll be bedridden for days.” The brothers laughed as they clashed their goblets together, downing their wine.
Geta swept Y/n over his shoulder as she screamed out, slapping his back and kicking her feet. “Ahh! Put me down!” Geta laughed manically, parading her around for all of the Senators to see, reaching out for General Acacius Y/n cried out for him. “General!” His soulful eyes watched in pity as Geta carried her away, knowing what awaited the young Empress. Removing himself from the palace walls, he could hear her distant cries for help, and the pain in his heart grew. But he couldn’t do anything; a move against the Emperor meant death. No matter how valuable you may seem. Even if you are a General.
You want to play with the sire? (Yes)
You want a view from the spire? (Yes)
You want a seat by the pyre?
And never ever suffer again
Geta shouted for the servants and guards to leave as he went down the long hall toward his bedchamber. The doors opened and slammed shut behind him. Y/n thrashed on his shoulder, fighting to be released. Cursing him with fueled anger, Geta only continued to laugh. “My Empress is fiery, that will serve her well in Rome.” Slapping her ass, Y/n slipped down his chest; as he caught her. Removing her crown and throwing it on the lush cushioning on the floor, Y/n slapped Geta’s face, removed herself from his grip, and ran to the door. Geta wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her to his chest. The pair fell to the floor as they rolled around, fighting for the upper hand. Geta pinned Y/n beneath him—a mad smile on his face. “Ooh, you do have fight in you; I love that in a woman. It makes her even funnier to tame, fuck her until she is a weeping mess.” He licked his lips. Y/n struggled underneath him, kicking in his groin; he coughed loudly, groaning in pain as he faltered above her as she pushed him off. Scrambling to escape, he held her foot, pulling her back. The tears streaming down her heated cheeks fell onto the lush rug as Geta threw her on her back, ripping and tearing her dress.
“Ah, ah, ah.” He taunted his wandering hands and worked their way up and down. Y/n gripped his hands and tried to remove them. Punching and slapping him as she screamed. Geta caught her wrists in his hands, his eyes aflame with a mix of fury and desire. His tongue darting out to lick his bottom lip, Y/n felt her breathing grow still. Geta’s mouth found hers in a heated kiss, swallowing her muffled moans of protest. “I have been patient all evening, but now I plan to fuck you until you cannot walk.” He panted heavily between kisses and removed his robe; Y/n hated that he was beautiful. God, she hated that he was her husband. Geta spread her reluctant legs, his body slipping between. Removing the remaining shreds of her wedding dress, Geta admired his wife’s naked body. “You indeed are Venus herself. I have been gifted with the most exquisite creature to share my throne and my bed. To bear my children. To rule as Empress by my side.”
Geta’s eyes softened, and for a moment, Y/n almost felt he was genuine until the twisted feeling in her gut told her he was manipulating her. “You feel nothing, Geta.” She spat his name like venom in her mouth; the young emperor frowned, visually hurt by her words. Entering her in one harsh thrust, Y/n cried out at the painful intrusion. Geta’s lips curled into a snarl fucking her roughly; though she hated him, her body denied the hate. Geta could feel her walls struggling to accommodate his thick cock as he buried himself deep inside her. Not giving her any respite or chance to adjust, Geta’s jaw went slack Y/n felt tears brim her eyes; gripping his arms, she tried to focus on anything but the pain. It will be over soon. It will be over soon.
Geta ran his tongue over her neck, his hands holding a firm grip on her hips. “The harder you fight, the more painful it will be.” Geta’s muffled voice rang through her ears Y/n released a broken sob, continuing to wriggle free, but Geta’s patience was wearing thin; fine, have it your way. Geta pulled out of her and spun her onto her stomach; grasping her hips with a deathly grip, he entered her from behind. This time, his thrusts were non-merciful, her pained moans filling their bedchamber. Geta's fingers threaded through her hair and pulled her head back. Lowering himself down to press his chest to her back firmly, his breath hit her face with heavy pants. “I can be gentle when I want to be. But you have forced me to take matters into my own hands. I will fuck you tonight like a whore, and you will take it. From this moment on, I will have you begging for my mercy! No one can help you now; you are bound to me.” He sneered, his teeth bared Y/n could see their reflection in a gold vase. The violence of Geta’s true nature appears on his face. Y/n dug her fingers into the rug, her mind drifting to him. Lucius—𝐇𝐞𝐫 𝐋𝐮𝐜𝐢𝐮𝐬. Geta’s erratic thrusts grew harder as he gripped Y/n’s hand in his. Though she couldn’t help it, her walls clenched around Geta’s cock as she came, her body shaking from the overwhelming mix of pleasure and pain as Geta roared, pulling Y/n back and seating her in his lap as he came inside her. Coating her walls with his seed, his hips stuttered, and his breathy moans fanned over her shoulder. His lips made gentle contact with her skin, his fingers sweeping her hair to the side, and he turned her face to look at him. The tear stains and pouted lips made her look like an ethereal vision. Geta smiled with a dreamy sigh, caressing her cheek and lips. “You truly do look beautiful when you cry.”
Y/n remained silent as she sat with Geta on his lap. His large throne could easily accommodate both of them, but Geta preferred to show his claim on Y/n, and there was no better way than having her placed upon his lap to show his power. His arm wrapped possessively around her waist, holding her close, his lips pressing kisses along her shoulder and neck. “We have some entertainment, my dove. I think you will be impressed.” He grinned Y/n knew what he meant by entertainment. 𝐆𝐥𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐬. Unfazed, her eyes looked to the centre of the room as two men entered an open space. A Senator stepped out, bowing graciously. “My Emperors! My Empress! Lords, ladies and gentlemen and senators. For your entertainment.” He walked in a circle, announcing with a loud voice that made everyone quiet to listen to him. “The art of combat. May I present the barbarian versus from my own stable.” He announced his champion's name as everyone clapped. Y/n found herself drawn to the younger man, his blue eyes piercing her soul as he stared at her also. Watching him walk to the centre, Y/n felt dread seep into her body. She couldn’t understand why, but there was something about him. Feeling her breath falter, she believed she was staring at someone she knew long ago. Unable to tear her eyes away as he fought, she knew it was him. A wave of warmth flooded her, knowing he had possibly returned, but she feared he might not have remembered her. When Caracalla announced swords should be entered into the fight, the two fighters were given swords, each invading and evading the other’s swings with perfect timing. However, the younger gladiator was the clear winner in Y/n’s eyes. His rage. She had seen the same rage before in another gladiator, and this man had the same. Using it as his tool of defence and to his strength, he overpowered his competitor.
Winning his match, Geta looked at his wife, who stared at the young gladiator in amazement. “He was brilliant, my dove. Did you enjoy it? Hmm.” He cradled her cheek, and she feigned a smile with a slight nod. “It was…captivating.” She spoke softly. Geta laughed with a nod. “Oh, sweetling, I understand it was your first time witnessing combat. The more you see, the better you can stomach it.” The young gladiator watched silently as he couldn’t remove his eyes from Y/n. She was alive, and she was Empress. All these years, he was afraid she was long gone, and he would never see her again. But there she sat ten feet before him; he swore he was looking at Venus. She had probably heard that too often, but it was true. His heart raced the longer he looked at her, the more his anger fueled at Emperor Geta laying his hands on the woman he was promised to. If only he could swing his sword and behead the Emperor now, but he couldn’t. Not yet. Geta rested Y/n on his throne as he kissed her lips quickly before approaching the gladiator, praising his fighting. “Remarkable! Remarkable!” He looked at the gladiator in amazement. “From where do you hail? Speak.”
The gladiator looked at Y/n, and their eyes locked. Geta turned, observing before asking the gladiator to speak when he refused to answer. “He seems quite taken with you, my dove. Perhaps he has never seen a woman as beautiful as you from where he is from.” He laughed as Y/n parted her lips, shifting in the throne. “Do not mock him, husband. You do not want your neck to be kissed with his blade.” The gladiator smirked as he looked back to Geta, who pointed at his wife. “My Empress tends to have her moments of defiance and abrupt nature. I adore it, but I have been deeply set on fucking it out of her. Mayhaps I am not trying hard enough; you would know of rough fucking wouldn’t you, barbarian?” He grinned.
After a few moments of silence, the gladiator spoke. “The gates of hell are open night and day; Smooth the descent, and easy is the way: But to come back from hell and view the cheerful skies, In this the task and mighty labor lies.” He recited Y/n’s eyes widened; she knew those words. “You understand Virgil?” Y/n asked, standing from the throne and walking up to stand beside Geta. “How do you know of such poetry?” She whispered before the gladiator could answer. Caracalla thanked Macrinus for providing some amusement, and he and Geta laughed aloud.
“We are indeed entertained. My dove is still handling these amusement materials, but she will improve. And we all look forward to seeing your poet perform in the arena." Geta declared.
Req - Something about Shotaro? Oh my god anything, your writing is just so????;!!;?$3
Maybe some smut on the toxic-ish side about how he appeals to be a loving boyfriend to your friends but behind closed doors he’s a lot more intimidating/manipulative, but you’re still just so weak for him (maybe even more so because of it???) and just can’t control yourself around him. Idk, I’m literally clueless but I just know I need that immaculate brain of yours combined with Taro!!!
Much love, and Happy New Year!!!
A/n: I'm not gonna lie... This took a good chunk of my sanity trying to write, I can only hope that you like it. Also happy new yearrr
𝗣𝗶𝗰𝘁𝘂𝗿𝗲 𝗣𝗲𝗿𝗳𝗲𝗰𝘁
Osaki Shotaro x Fem!Reader
Summary: Shotaro is your golden retriever boyfriend... until he isn't
Warnings: Language, Established Relationship, Jealousy, Best friend!Sohee, Possessiveness, Slight Dark fic, Toxic!Relationship, Manipulation, Smut (+18) Dom!Shotaro, Fingering, Grinding, Choking, Teasing
Your shoulders are as rigid as two metal cinder blocks, keeping your head from rolling off onto the floor. Barbed wires twist with anxiety in the pit of your stomach because you know, despite the sunshine disposition, despite the smile, despite the glassy doe eyes, Shotaro is pissed, and he definitely wants you to know about it.
“I swear on my unborn child,” Sohee, your best friend (your best guy friend) exclaims over a mouthful of ramen, “Yours is the only man I'd ever let cook for me. The rest of the male population can choke.”
While Shotaro basks in Sohee's praises with a modest sunshine smile, you sigh under the pressure of your boyfriend's grip on your thigh as you swiftly say, “You're quite literally a member of said male population-”
Sohee lowers his chopsticks before assuming a vaguely threatening stance with his cheeks round and stuffed. “Begrudgingly,” he says, “Not by choice.” You do not laugh but you try to.
Sohee bounces up and down in his seat, seemingly oblivious to your nervousness and Shotaro's skillfully hidden vexation.
“This is why I needed you two to end up together.” Says Sohee, swinging his head towards you. “My Golden Retriever best friend,” he swings his head towards Shotaro, “And my Golden Retriever coworker-”
“It's getting late, Sohee-” Shotaro's voice is calm and his head is still tilted as he says, “Should I call your uber?” You gulp silently as Shotaro's hand rubs up and down your thigh in a dizzying motion.
“Not very Golden Retriever of you,” Sohee grumbles before slurping down the last of his soup, “But that's okay because you're perfect in everything else-”
“Are you trying to steal my boyfriend, Sohee?” You hope cracking a joke might alleviate some of the one sided tension only you seem to be aware of.
Despite the smile, Shotaro is having a very difficult time remaining patient, especially because he had plans. Before Sohee had hijacked your attention, Shotaro would venture to say that he was actually somewhat happy at the start of the evening… before he found himself sharing your time with your over exuberant best friend.
There was a lively, almost vibrant pep in his step when he got off work, despite the tiredness in his muscles. As Shotaro made his way down the corridor towards your apartment door, his head was bowed with his eyes glued on his phone.
Your whimpers resounded in the clarity of his headphones. He watched you cum around his fingers, absolutely transfixed- so transfixed he almost doesn't recognize movement in his periphery right when he reaches your front door.
Far too swiftly, Shotaro plastered a smile on his face as he paused the video, dropped his phone into his pocket and lowered his headphones before bowing to your elderly next door neighbour.
He muttered a polite “안녕하세요,” in greeting, and the tiny old woman responded just as amicably.
She, as well as every other person in your life is absolutely floored by his politeness.
“What a nice young man,” she said, as she continued her way down the corridor, leaving Shotaro chuckling to himself because the thoughts he was having were certainly kilometres off on what a nice young man should be thinking.
He could not help that he had been thinking about you the whole day. Not even just sexually. (Although he did miss your body terribly. Shotaro was absolutely obsessed with the way it worked: You were always so unmistakably pliant for him. Like clay). Even simply being this close to your space made his heart overblown with satisfaction. Your house had always been somewhat of a safety enclosure for him. His own little piece of peace away from the outside world.
As he inserted the password and turned the knob, Shotaro imagined how you'd be waiting for him after work by the door like you usually did. Swimming in his oversized shirt as you stood with your arms opened wide.
None of those things happened.
Shotaro trudged into your house, sweaty and physically defeated from another day of exerting himself with rigorous routine. The thought of melting into your arms had been the only thing keeping him vaguely upright, when all he wanted to do was collapse on a pile on the floor.
As he proceeded to kick his sneakers off at the door, Shotaro’s brain nearly short circuitrd at the sight of you standing before him… fully dressed.
Not for any reason beside the fact that he had hoped to find you dressed comfortably enough to touch each other while you both cuddled lazily on the couch.
He was not being unreasonable in his expectations.
“Are we supposed to be going somewhere?” Shotaro asked quizzically with his doe eyes widened in cute curiosity. He eyed your halter neck and maxi skirt with much discontent.
“Oh good! You're home! I actually have something to-” Before the words could escape your mouth, he immediately enclosed you in a hug that you drowned in.
“Missed you so much,” he murmured before splaying various sloppy kisses on the side of your face, “Couldn't stop thinking about you the whole day… your face-” A kiss, “Your mouth-” another kiss, “your boobs-”
“Taro, I have to tell you som-”
“God, I hate people!” he exclaimed above you with his arms falling to your hips.
“I shouldn't have to remind you that I count as people.” You jest in vague nervousness.
“When I say I hate people, never ever, do I mean you,” he whispered above you before patting your head down as if you were, less his human girlfriend and more something that went about its life on four legs.
“Do I count as people?”
Your shoulders stiffened and Shotaro's arms grew rigid as his head snapped up to look at your best friend- his co-worker.
Sohee makes his introduction behind you in the same outfit Shotaro saw him in at dance practice and he waved lightly.
Shotaro's shoulders sag infinitesimally but that smile on his face is all too permanent.
Sohee spinned around before mumbling, “Also I'd appreciate it if you two didn't hump each other out in the open for my viewing pleasure.”
Instead of actually feeling compelled to eat you now sit idly at the dinner table, picking and prodding at the ramen Shotaro has prepared for you all.
Your boyfriend's irritation is subtle and you could definitely miss it in the brightness of his overall countenance.
“I mean, it's not that I don't wanna be in a relationship- it's just that, seeing you two has inspired me… I guess you could say?” If it weren't for Shotaro's hand on your thigh you might have actually listened to the countless praises he dotes on Shotaro.
Praises about how good of a man he is. How perfect he is. How absolutely wonderful he must be for being able to put up with you.
All through the dinner, Sohee talks and talks, and you sit with your fingers curled around the end of the table, trying to stop yourself from not reacting to your boyfriend’s minstritations.
It is only when the dinner ends, and Shotaro escorts Sohee to the door, that you finally feel the first real signs of anxiety begin to solidify in your gut.
You're trying your best to load the plates into the dishwasher with a steady hand when you feel a daunting presence behind you. Evading eye contact, you swiftly and succinctly say, “I'm sorry. He had no where else to go-”
“He has a house. Try again.”
You sigh, letting your eyes flutter shut at the coldness in his voice.
“He's my best friend, Shotaro,” you say with finality before straightening your spine and turning to face him. You’re both pressed on opposite ends of the kitchen. Both with your arms folded.
“I don't really like your friends.” He says.
“I don't think my friends should be your problem, is what I'm saying.” You clarify. “And anyway, I thought you’d like the fact that Sohee’s my friend.”
Shotaro Scoffs as he says, “I'd like it more if he didn't try to inject himself into our relationship, babe.” Shotaro's voice is incredibly calm, but his words are aimed like an arrow doused in poison, as he closes the distance between you two. Your attention is fixed on him as he lifts his hand to trace small lines on your exposed collar, and you nearly fight the urge to make your eyes flutter shut.
“Not to sound like a tired fucking cliche but, I'm just thinking about what's best for you-” That snaps you out of it.
“What's best for me or what's best for you?!" You exclaim before slapping his hand away.
If only you knew how badly that particular passive-aggressive action affected him. Shotaro crowds you against the counter as he pushes his front up against yours until he's quite literally peering down at you. You refuse to crane your neck back and look up at him.
He was being ridiculous.
“I'm not choosing between you or my friends, Taro-”
“You're so pretty, you know that?” His completey-out-of-left-field comment, especially layered with that sweet-as-honey voice of his, shoots straight to your core, and you grab the counter behind you for support. “And smart too,” he says, before trailing his hand down your arm, eliciting a trail of goosebumps in his wake. Shotaro’s touch is not only sensual, but its molten fucking lava and it nearly has you melting into a puddle on the floor.
“So I trust you to make your own decisions.” He says, nodding with cute finality before lifting your face up by your chin.
“Taro…” Your heart resorts to frenzy, and your head flies backward when Shotaro drifts his fingers past the seams of your maxi skirt. His are fingers- quite literally making their descent down your underwear while you remain too dumb to do anything but say: “I-I knew Sohee before I knew you.”
He only pushes up against you further, letting his hand grip the side of your neck. “You really think now is a good time to throw that in my face?” He asked with a tilt of his head and his hand now sliding over your cunt.
“You're not wet,” he whispers, “Why aren't you wet?” Before you're ever able able to answer, Shotaro drops to his knees before picking up the ends of your billowing skirt and disappearing underneath the fabric. A torrid gasp escapes your throat when his warm breath skates over your cunt and you're once again throwing your head back in absolute ecstasy.
He pokes his head up from underneath your skirt, cute smile on display while his fingers massage your aching clit. “You're always so wet for me, baby," he says with a childish frown, "What's the matter, huh?” He tilts his head again. “Is it your friend?”
He asks casually, as if his middle finger was not easing its way past your entrance … as if he his fingers were not already drenched in your arousal in less than a minute. “Fuck, Shotaro-”
“Is it because of him?” He continues to ask, now fully moving his fingers in and out of yoy while he remained on his knees- gaze never once wavering. “I'm sorry, bunny,” He says with faux concern, “I didn't know Sohee meant so much to you!”
“F-Fuck Taro-”
At the sound of his name, Shotaro's other hand grips your thigh, only opening your legs wider to split you all the way open against his fingers rough minstriations. He alternates between his middle and index. Sometimes splitting you open with both, until you were thoroughly bucking forward, to the pace that he had set and you were chasing your own orgasm furiously.
“You look like you're gonna cum for me, baby!” He exclaims with big bright eyes and a wide open smile. Equal parts adorable and completely fucking manic.
“Ask me to cum,” he whispers, still looking up at you like you were the best toy he could've ever hope to get. “I control your body. I control every part of you.” He says, “So ask me-”
“Please, Taro!- P-Please can I come?” Your hands have long ago found purchase in his blonde locks and you squeeze your eyes shut, bucking into him at a frenzied pace.
“Look at how pretty you are when you're following orders!” He exclaims as if you truly were a child. “So pretty,” he’s absolutely mesmerising, “My pretty girl gets to cum all over my fingers-”
You've already jumped off the cliff, letting your hips stutter as your eyes roll to the back of your head.
Shotaro's eyes appear almost pained by the sight in front of him. How easily you break for him. Whenever he wanted. You truly were in control of his entire being.
“G-God-” Your failed attempt at talking brings a wave of warmth over Shotaro's countenance, and he finds himself pleasantly satisfied once again. He lifts himself up to his full height.
“what a gorgeous girl,” he whispers before pushing his forehead against yours, “My gorgeous girl,” he murmurs before sliding his fingers - the fingers that were once inside you- past your trembling lips.
need to string together my thoughts more on this but reeeeeally interesting to see the influx of media - severance, the substance, mickey 17 - centered on the idea of a double/expendable iteration of yourself.
the dehumanization of workers by the way of non-livable wages, unsafe working conditions, and identity based discrimination (and the current removal of dei initiatives), all drive a wedge between our personhood and the value we are prescribed as a member of the workforce. something something the effects of ai and deepfakes already putting people in danger, the way we live and present our lives online vs in reality, there’s a lot to unpack here. but it’s fascinating to see this trope so widely translated as a storytelling vehicle for these ideas, and that this is the story that people are interested in telling.
my earnest hope for 2025 is that everyone embraces being a little weirder and freakier and less judgmental bc we will all be better off for it like to charge reblog to cast
The future is female @choi-sanserif - Tumblr Blog | Tumgag
