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gojonanami · 7 months

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❝ 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐍𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐓𝐎𝐖𝐍 𝐑𝐄𝐃 ! ❞

❝ A GOOD GIRL SUMMONING THE KING OF CURSES -- WHAT COULD GO WRONG? ❞

✧ pairing: heian form! ryomen sukuna x good girl! reader

✧ summary: you've always been a goody two shoes -- or so your friends say -- so what happens when you decide to do the first bad thing you've ever attempted and try summoning a demon -- and it actually works?

✧ warnings: 18+, nsfw, smut, dub/con / non/con (dead dove, do not eat), reader summons sukuna accidentally, monster fucking, corruption kink, reader is a virgin, dom! sukuna, heian form! sukuna, four arms, mouth stomach, size kink, oral (f + m) (f receiving via mouth stomach), handjob (m! receiving), fingering (f! receiving), sex (p in v), creampie, degradation kink (slut, whore), overstimulation (f! receiving), description of violence (no violence happens), art by @/danXL4 (on dA), dividers by @/saradika

✧ wc: 4,916

Summon a demon in your apartment, they said. It would be fun, they said.

‘They’ meaning your stupid ass friends who were too fucking scared to stay here with you while you did it.

Maybe you should’ve thought this through, preferably before you sat in a circle of blood (animal blood taken humanely that could not be used — don’t worry, you weren’t completely insane), and painted the symbols around the circle in the living room, your carpet rolled up, and on the precipice of unfurling, and your coffee table pushed aside.

Your phone buzzed with messages in your group chat:

Don’t do this, girl.

Another message.

What if it’s real? I don’t want something to happen to you - like I rather not have this on my conscience

What heartfelt pleas, you shook your head, as you put your phone on ‘do not disturb,’ and propped it up before opening the camera app and hitting record.

Your fucking friends — it was all their fault to begin with.

You grit your teeth, you are tired of being boring. You were always studying, always coming home early, always getting to class on time, always the fucking good girl, never getting fucked up or fucked for that matter. And your friends always taunted you for it — told you that you never lived a day in your life, that you’d always live sheltered in your apartment with your books and your streaming apps (which, you admitted, did sound pretty good to you) — but you wanted to prove them wrong.

All the fuck they did that was daring was go to supposedly haunted sights and get the piss scared out of them — like yeah, that really was the wind, not some fucking ghost. If it was a ghost, pretty sure they would choose someone better to haunt — not a bunch of fucking pussies.

You needed better friends.

So for once — if only to get them to shut up — you wanted to do something crazy.

You don’t know why a demon summoning was the hill you had chosen to die on, but you already climbed your way to the top of the hill, you supposed, so you might as well die on it. You looked through the Reddit thread you found on demon summoning (of course the most reliable of sources), looking over the incantation you were supposed to read, as you turned on your camera.

Fuck. This was going to fucking dumb. You grabbed your lighter, lining up your candles around the circle, before kneeling in front of it.

“To summon the King of Curses,” you read before you scoffed, what the fuck were you doing? ‘The King of Curses’ — they couldn’t even come up with anything more creative than that? Like no latin? Or even japanese folklore — no, instead the most generic ass of names, “To summon the King of Curses, you must read the following incantation,” you glance at your phone’s camera with lips pursed — you were going to prove a point — but why did it feel so goddamn stupid?

You sighed, rubbing your forehead, as you suck in air between your teeth, and sighed, before reading the incantation: “Rise, Disgraced One — Oh, the King of the Golden Age that reigned supreme,” there was a chill that grazed the back of your neck, a slight breeze that raises goosebumps along your skin, “Open the Gate of Hell and let the King corrupt you. Fuga,”

The flames on the candles shoot to the ceiling, as a scream lodges itself in your throat, as you barely scramble back enough to avoid getting your face burned off. The fire licks the ceiling, and a thick cloud of smoke floods your apartment, sweeping through the apartment, as you begin to cough, eyes burning with tears.

“What the fuck—“ you reach for your phone in your pocket only to realize it’s still set up to record in that fucking mess of flames. You’re frozen, as you stand trying to recall what they taught you about fire safety growing up — is opening a window a good thing or a bad thing? Where’s the fire alarm? Do you even have a fire extinguisher? Thinking dangerous things through wasn’t your specialty, you supposed because you never did them.

Fuck, if you died, you would become a fucking ghost and haunt your friends.

But the flames ebb away, leaving some scorch marks on the ceiling (fun thing to explain to your landlord), as your lungs struggled to cope with the flood of smoke dispersing, the cloud so thick, you could barely see your hand in front of your face. The haze seared at your throat, drawing a smoker’s cough from your lungs, while your eyes could barely open, waterlogged by the sheer amount of tears spilling.

You gently wipe tears away from your eyes, as you blink them away, until you stumble to your window to throw it open, coughing, as you stick your head out.

“What the fuck,” you mumble, throat raw — was it the candles you bought? Were the candles somehow really fucking defective? Or did you somehow actually summon a demon? You snort, no, it was probably the candles. You leaned against the window sill, letting the smoke escape — as you finally were able to breathe again.

You sigh, shutting the window, turning back around — only to find four eyes staring back.

He was huge. A hulking mass of muscles, four arms, instead of two, and each one was possibly wider than your head, no shirt or covering to find the exposed skin — his dark blue pants hung low around his waist and above it was a weird groove in the middle of his stomach.

Your eyes raise as he lifts his arm, as you flinch, but he only rakes his fingers through his dark pink hair, pushing it back roughly. showing off the hands of black around the middle of his bicep and his wrists. Broken lines wrap down from his shoulders into jagged points that end in the middle of his chest. Black dots adorn the sides of his shoulders, hollow vacuums that stared back at you.

Two eyes on each side of his face — but his right eyes were raised, as if he bore a mask made of wood or raised skin — you didn’t know which — fused to his face. But something told you — as you took a step back — it wasn’t something you wanted to find out.

“Are you the brat who dared to summon me?” And you freeze at the sound of his voice, ringing with such a weight, it nearly brought you to your knees. Your eyes fell to the ground, unable to bring yourself to look at him — your heart rattling against your ribs. His presence was a pressure, the air around you seemed to still, his voice ringing in your ears. Your muscles were drawn taut, unable to move — shivers ripping down your spine.

“Yes,” you manage a whisper only, resisting the urge to squeeze your eyes shut.

He gives a small chuckle, “So submissive for the one who dared to summon me,” his heavy footsteps out of the circle, melts the candles beside his foot to puddles of wax, “it has been eons since I’ve been able to roam free—“ he inhales, as you stand frozen, hearing his hulking form drawing even closer, “I can smell the humans, roaming free, wriggling like worms in the crevices of this place — I can’t wait to massacre them,” and then he pauses a moment, as he considers you.

“Brat, look at me,” you swallow, as your head slowly rises to meet his gaze, his form towering over you, standing two steps away from you, letting you dwell in the void of his shadow, “tell me, what did you use to summon me?”

You blink, “I found it—I don’t know—“

“Read it to me,” he orders — there’s no option to disobey, unless you’d love to be met with certain death. So you move slowly to your laptop, reading the incantation again, “‘and let the King corrupt you. Fuga,”

His eyes narrow, as a slow smirk settles over his features, a smirk that sends an icy chill down your spine, “Woman, you have no idea what you’ve done, have you?”

Two of his arms are crossed while one of the other’s reaches for you — and your eyes shut now — you are surely dead, but instead of a hand around your neck, you feel fingers grip your chin.

You wait for the embrace of death (at least maybe you’d find better friends in the afterlife), but it never comes, instead you hear a deep chuckle, as another arm curls around your waist and brings you flush to him, “You humans are so tiny, so fragile, one wrong move and i could break you,” and another large hand is slipping down the curves of your body, “I suppose I’ll have to be a little careful — only for this to work, and I suppose for your benefit as well,” and your eyes finally dare to open and peek at him, only for his face to draw near, breath warming your lips, “I’m going to savor corrupting you, little one,”

“What the fuck—“ you try to break away, but his grip is like iron shackles around your wrists, as he forces your arms around his waist, caged in by his own arms, “please let me go—“

Before you can even finish your plea, his lips meet yours, swallowing your gasp with a smirk. His large hands around your waist left no space for retreat, not that you’d make it far even if you tried. His kiss sent a slow burning heat throughout your body, a spark that grew in your belly that ignited when his tongue slid into your mouth. His touch only added fuel to the flame — his hands skimming over your sides slowly like warm honey sliding down your skin.

He parts your kiss ruined lips, not before his teeth bite down on your bottom lip, a smirk on his lips as he sees your saliva slip down the corner of your mouth. Your lips parted and puffy as he drags his thumb down them, eyes blown out with pleasure.

“That’s it, give in,” and the haze that settles over you is thick and unforgiving, unable to see anything but the King of Curses before you and unable to need anything but pleasure at his hands.

“Please,” a small hint of resistance remained stubbornly — you couldn’t let this monster have his way with you — for fuck’s sake, much less lose your virginity to him, “I can’t,”

“But you want to,” he hums, as large fingers tug at your flimsy shorts, the fabric tearing with ease, until it was in shreds, a shiver running up your spine at the thought that your limbs could have been too, “your mouth says one thing, brat, but your lower lips,” a thick finger presses at the wet patch on your panties, rubbing against your puffy clit, “say another,”

You whimper, as his finger bears down harshly through the thin fabric, “please,” you swallow, as he leans down to lick the drool from your lips, “please—“

“Please, what, little one?” he chuckles, as he presses wet kisses up your jaw, “I can’t give you what you want if you don’t tell me,” your knees are beginning to buckle, as the ache between your legs only grows, “I know you must look pretty when you cry, so do you want to cry for me, brat?” and his piercing gaze nearly brings you tears along, “because I can give you something to cry about,”

“Do you ever shut up?” you mutter, but that only seems to make the corner of his lip tug upwards.

“I can make you shut up,” And two hands squeeze your hips roughly, while another slips under your shirt, “No undercovering? It’s as if you wanted this all long,” he chides, a huff in his voice, as his finger teases your pert nipple between his thumb and forefinger, pinching and pulling, drawing a yelp from your lips, “hoping for an incubus or some other curse or demon?” he’s tugging down his pants, revealing his dick—-if you could call it that.

Fuck, was that a cock or another appendage all together? Far thicker and longer than any male anatomy you’ve seen depicted or described in even the filthiest corners of the internet — pretty veins running up the sides, as a mess of pre-cum dripped off the engorged tip, flushed red with need.

“Why did you summon me?” he demands to know as he leans down to take a nipple between his lips, and you know you have no choice but to answer.

“I wanted to prove to my friends that I wasn’t—” it was so pathetic now, as you stood before a literal deity of death, “wasn’t just a good girl,”

He chuckles, a bark more than a laugh almost, as you swallow thickly as your eyes can’t tear away from the sight of his dick — would he kill you with it instead of his hands?

“Well, you aren’t anymore are you?” he scoffs, and you fail to notice his hand shifting to tug your underwear off, a gasp ripped from you, as another hand brushed against your bare cunt roughly, “Look at how fucking wet you are already, slut, so much already leaking all over my fingers,” he shows you the strings of pre-cum connecting his fingers, before he brings his fingers to his lips and his tongue darts out to lick them clean, “I’d say no respectable woman would be dripping this much if she was so good,” he hums, before sighing mockingly, “although, perhaps I should preserve your sanctity, even a little. It would be unfortunate to leave you like this — even more so, to leave myself like this, but if that is truly what’s for the best—“ his grip begins to loosen, but your fingers find his shoulder.

Two words manage to leave your lips — and you don’t know whether it’s that you’re under his spell or under your own — but you know that you need this “Don’t go,”

His lips curl. He wasn’t going to begin with — but it was so much easier if you gave in.

~~~

“C’mon little one, you were so eager only a moment ago,” The King of Curses chides, amusement threaded through his tone from behind you, watching as you nearly straddled his stomach — though you had realized it wasn’t just a stomach. A tongue flicked out over lips that formed over the middle of his abdomen, right under you.

“I didn’t know—“ your cheeks warmed, your walls fluttering at that thought of that tongue against your leaking cunt.

“Yet you’re so eager,” he scoffs, before using a large hand to tug you against it as two hands settle against your waist to hold you in place, “and I’ve run out of patience, so be a good whore and take my cock,” and he’s pushing your head down, sharp fingernails digging into your scalp, as his large cock slaps your face, smearing his pre cum over your cheek and lips.

Your lips part, the tip of your tongue tracing his weeping slit, drawing a hiss from his lips, before your mouth engulfs the head, while your fingers curl around his thick base. And as you do, you feel his tongue drag over the length of your cunt, making you gasp around his cock.

His mouth and tongue are even larger than the one on his face, slurping and sucking, as his tongue begins to work its way inside your needy cunt.

“Don’t slack, brat,” his hand pushing your head further down on his cock, nearly burying your face in his pubes, “come on, do a good job, and I may even give you the pleasure of being fucked by me,”

You force yourself to focus on sucking his cock, tracing the pretty veins with your tongue, before suckling at the tip, savoring the groan you draw from his lips. The squelch of your cunt as his tongue begins to fuck you open, thicker than even four of your fingers, fills your ears. Two of his hands find your tits, tweaking and twisting your nipples, squeezing as he presses the flat of his palms against your breasts, only for tongues to dart out from his palms. You gasp around his length, as his other mouths suck at your tits, swirling their tongue around it.

His hips jerk against your mouth when your fingers cup his balls, and he thrusts, “You can do better,” he grunts, as his tip grazes your throat, his mouth closing around your clit and sucking, hard, and you’re grinding on his abs and mouth now, toes curling as you cum, and his mouth only eagerly swallows it, the sticky release coating his abs.

His cock twitches in your mouth as you moan around it, as you recover from your orgasm, beginning to suck at his cock, nearly high off the pleasure, as you fondle his balls, bobbing your head up and down, until he’s finally groaning, his hot release flooding your mouth.

“Don’t waste a drop,” he growls, as you swallow it, blissed out and panting, as your lips leave his weeping cock, slapping against your cheek as he lifts you easily and places you on your back, “don’t tell me you’re done after that, little one,” and your eyes slide down to see his somehow still erect dick, standing tall as he kneels on your bed, his hulking form burying you in his shadow, “because I’m far from done yet,” his cock twitches at the sight of your lips, a swollen mess from sucking him off, a mix of his cum and your saliva all over your face.

“Please, I can’t—“ you whine, shaking your head, but two hands are already spreading your folds, your cunt fluttering around nothing, as if already craving to have his dick buried in it.

“Your cunt seems to disagree, little one,” as he drags a thick digit around your clit, before pinching it, as you keen under his touch, “you’re drenched for me, begging for me to take you,” and his thumb is now rubbing circles around your puffy clit while he sinks a finger into you knuckle deep, “I just have to make sure you can fit me in this tight hole of yours,” your head falls back against the pillow as he’s knuckle deep, another large finger already pushing into your slick walls, “still so tight despite all the time I took to open you up,” he clicked his tongue, a smirk on his lips, as his fingers find the spongy spot that makes your fingers fist at the sheets, as your release squirts over his fingers, your body boneless as pleasure buzzes through every inch of your body, until you finally start come down.

But as soon as you even begin to, his fingers begin to move again, fucking you through your orgasm, and quickly into another.

“Ngh, no, no, not yet—” your voice is caught in your throat, words leaving your lips in a hurry because you know surely his fingers would rip any coherent thought from your mind in a moment.

But he does not relent, only finger fucking you harder, “I have to be careful to open you up, otherwise, I very well may break you in two, wouldn’t I? Such fragile things, you humans are — already squealing? I haven’t even added a third finger yet,” he scoffs, as he hums, “have you not been deflowered yet, brat?”

And your pussy gives a telltale flutter that only has his lips curling further, a flash of his canines sending a chill down your spine, “I-I—”

“No need for your answer, pet, your body gave me the answer itself,” he hums, “then this will take a bit longer than I thought—” as his fingers curl and drag over your walls, before scissoring apart, “I’d prefer for you to be conscious when I take your virginity, but I don’t mind if you’re not,”

And a fourth finger presses at your slick hole, making you whimper, “Please, I can’t—” but he does not relent, four fingers now fucking you open, as your mouth parts in a silent scream, back arching as they work you open. Your body lies on slick drenched sheets, the smell and sound of your arousal only making his need grow, holding back if only not to ruin you completely — he needed you still, needed this to work. And he wasn’t sure what’d happen if he’d break you completely — and he knew he could far too easily. Already he could feel your blood rushing under his touch, the small gasps and moans could turn to screams with just a finger barely lifted, the slick painted over with scarlet.

But he doesn’t. He can’t. Not when he’s so close. And soon enough he won’t need you — but he can only cross that bridge when he gets there.

Or rather, when you get there.

~~~

“Brat, c’mon, keep your eyes open, we’re almost there,” Sukuna barks, as his fingers grip your chin, and force your gaze to him. How many orgasms had he given you? Seven or eight ? Maybe more. Sweat and cum clung to your skin, sticky and hot, as he continued to fuck you open, “think this virgin hole is finally ready for my cock, listen to it,” the loud squelch of your cunt as he thrust his fingers in and out had almost become white noise to you — and the sweet stretch of your pussy around his fingers had become second nature.

And finally he’s pulling his fingers from you, digits shiny and dripping with your release, sliding down your palm and wrist, as he brought them to his mouth to lick it clean, before offering it to his mouth on his stomach as well. He watches you all fucked out before him, legs spread along with your cunt that fluttered around nothing, waiting for him to slot his cock between your folds and sink in. He grunts, fuck, his balls still feel so full, even after cumming down your throat, aching to cum in your sweet cunt, see him fill your womb with his seed, the sweet release he had been craving for far too long.

“You still want my cock still, little one? Or are you too tired for it now?” he drags his leaking cock over your dripping folds, letting it tease your swollen clit as his pre cum mixes with your own, “maybe I should leave you like this, let you beg and beg for me until you’re writhing for me,”

You’re panting, the ache inside your pussy too much for you to bear — you were melting without him inside, the only thing to quench your need, your thirst — he was the only thing that could even begin to make it ebb.

“Please, please, my King,” your words are nearly sobs, pretty tears slipping down your cheeks, as your chest heaves with need — want far gone several hours ago, leaving only you with a desperation that would drive you mad, “I need you, need you take me, need you to fuck me,”

And his lips curl, “I thought you’d never ask, brat,” and he’s settling himself between your parted legs, pressing them back against your stomach, “although even if you didn’t, I’d help myself — because you summoned me after all, didn’t you, little one?” As he uses another arm to cup your chin, “watch me as I sink into you,”

Your cunt quivers as he presses his head to your entrance, as he uses your slick to wet his cock, “I’ll go slow at first, but once I’m inside, I have no intention of stopping, no matter how much you beg,”

It was a warning, a warning that there was no going back — but there was no going back from the moment you summoned this curse onto your doorstep — there was a descent into depravity, and how quickly you’d make it to the bottom.

The tip of his cock barely parts your folds, and you’re already whining about how full it feels — your walls fluttering as if trying to either accommodate his girth or push him out all together. He saw the faint drip of scarlet as he worked himself in, inch by inch — as your fingers found purchase in his forearms, nails digging crescents into his flesh.

“F-fuck, ngh, Too big, Sukuna, I can’t—“ and he can already feel your pussy give the telltale flutter of an orgasm, a cry ripped from your throat, as you cum, walls only pulling him in deeper and deeper — as if they never wanted to let go.

And finally, finally, he bottoms out, his hips pressed flush to your aching cunt, and he stills — it had been so long since he had enjoyed the body of a virgin, but he was sure you were the sweetest and tightest cunt he’d ever had.

Your cries made him scoff, tears streaming down your ruined face, it made his cock twitch —you were so small compared to him, a tiny pebble waiting to be crushed, but instead he held you in the palm of his hand. You were his to have, his to break, and his to corrupt.

“I told you there was no stopping,” he grunts as another hand settles on your stomach, on top of the slight bulge that came with his cock sinking into you, “can you feel me touching the deepest parts of you?” And he takes the whimper as a yes, “get accustomed to it, because this cunt shall be my breeding ground for as long as I see fit,”

And he finally pulls out only to sink back into your sweet depths, knocking the breath from your lungs. He starts slow, if only to spare you from breaking — because he knows so easily could. The wet squelch of your cunt rings in his ears, as he watches his thick cock sink in and out of your pussy again and again.

“Look at you, barely able to take my fingers and now you’re taking my cock so well,” he groans at the sight of your stretched pussy, as it took his cock over and over, molding its very shape to his length, as the slap of your skin against his became like a metronome, “such a perfect little whore, aren’t you?” and you moaned at his words, the sound of which made your cheeks burn with shame — “don’t worry, even if you aren’t, little one,” his fingers find your clit, rubbing and twisting until you come again, hard, your back arching as you do, fingernails nearly drawing blood from his arms as you do.

He hums, as he only fucks you through your orgasm, even as you try to squirm away from him, it’s all in vain — because you’re his now, “Oi, brat, where are you going? You won’t like what I’ll do if you try to get away again — your only place now is under me,” and his hands find his way under your ass as he shifts you onto his lap, “or on this throne,” and he fucks into you, brutally, again and again, your arms clinging around his neck desperately, as a hand on the back of your head guides your lips to his, “tongue out,” he orders, and you do as he says, as the two of you meet in a sloppy kiss.

And his hands shift to your hips, bruising as they help you ride him, meeting his thrusts with your own, until he’s finally hitting your cervix that has you squirting, drenching him in your release as your walls shudder around him. And his lips leave yours a moment, before they kiss down your jaw to your neck, his teeth sinking into the soft skin at the juncture of your neck and shoulder, drawing a yelp from your lips.

He groans, a guttural noise from his chest, as he notches himself as deep as he can before cumming, his hot release spurting out and painting your walls, as he continues to fuck it deeper and deeper, the snaps of his hips finally slowing, as he pulls away from your neck, enjoying the blood that pools in the ridges of his bite mark.

“Such a good little slut, aren’t you?” he hums, as he cups your lolling head, eyes thick with sleep and body heavy with exhaustion, you hear his quiet voice murmur, “I was only going to corrupt you for the sake of completing the summons you gave — I had no choice if I wanted to stay on this plane, but,” he hums, as pulls his cock from you with a gasp on your lips, before he has you flipped onto your stomach in a moment, sheathing his thick length back into you in one thrust, “I think I just might keep you, brat,” your eyes flutter shut, as his words fade from your consciousness, until a mean spank to your ass jolts you from your retreat into Hypnos’s arms.

No — as you turned your head ever so slowly to get Sukuna’s face in your periphery — you only answered to one god now.

The King of Curses’ lips curled in a cruel smirk, as he drew his hips back before slamming back in, “Let’s show the world truly how depraved you are, brat, hm? Together.”

✧ a/n: this is my first time writing sukuna so i hope i was able to do him justice. i was gonna do the whole two dick thing, but i was already like...this is complicated enough lmao.

✧ taglist: @pricetagofficial, @kentocalls, @angie-1306, @fayyyrieee, @dontshuugo, @zz-snow-zz, @viveriens, @sunflowmaryam, @eclipsephase, @merrymonkey, @leilannnnnnni, @spider-fan72, @temptationville, @gojos-princesa, @yell0wdreams, @achelliescomedown, @hiyori-ii, @bunninio, @grunge-mo0n, @diogodxlot, @littlecrybabys-world, @esuz, @unnamedflwr, @lemonpoppy-seed, @corkedscrewslocked, @bsaeshell, @methodofawesome, @rinvrin, @noveltywilbur, @ch0c0bsess, @sarcasticbitchsblog, @simpingnbitching, @aethyrite, @aitheria, @sweetpanda15, @daddytojji, @kindadolly, @kimnamjoonsbigtoe, @catsgomurp, @dhoranbolt, @kariatenoh, @hanxyy

#sab [mlist]#sukuna x reader #ryomen sukuna x reader #ryomen sukuna smut #sukuna smut #sukuna x you #ryomen sukuna x you #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jjk fanfiction #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #sukuna fanfiction #ryomen sukuna fanfiction

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slttygeto · 9 months

Text

tags: japanese is not reader’s first language (or mine so sorry if i made a mistake!), and she has an accent and struggles to pronounce a sentence (it wasn’t warm), established relationship, satoru is whipped.

word count: 0,3k. very short :)

satoru loves you like a breezy summer night. it’s hot for most of the day, yet when open the balcony door at 3am, you sigh in content at the icy air. he loves you like the smell of waffles coming from the kitchen, they’re not burnt or undercooked, they’re crispy and golden and you sprinkle some nuts on top after cutting slices of banana and drizzling some honey. but what satoru is sure of, is that he loves you as if he were there the day you were created.

he admires what you do with adoration, admiration and love. he doesn’t need to give verbal praise for you to know that he is so proud of you.

“so when I went to check my plate in the microwave, it was not–it was not warm—“ you struggle a bit with the pronunciation of the japanese phrase, your accent slipping and you cover your mouth in embarrassment. you were telling your boyfriend about how you should fix the microwave, but somehow managed to struggle so much with a sentence. satoru is quick to remove your hand and join in the laugh, but he pulls you towards his chest carefully and throws his head back.

the heart that once felt empty, unsatisfied was now filled with nothing but love. pure, unconditional love for a person who came into his life on a whim.

“it was not warm,” satoru repeats lowly, the words gliding out of his mouth with so much ease. he is an expert at this, given that it is his native language. he resta his hands on your shoulders as his eyes rake over your face. the slight flush to it is adorable, he thinks.

“it was…not warm,”

“good job,” his voice drops a volume lower, his hands holding your face as his thumbs caress your cheeks. “my smart girl, knows so many languages that her brain gets a little fried sometimes,”

��it does,” as you sigh, you get on your tip toes and peck his lips. but once is never enough for satoru, so he pecks you again. and again and again.

“enough. you have work to do,” your hand pushes softly at his chest, giggling when he starts to kiss under your ear.

“work can wait,”

“what if it’s an emergency?”

“let em die—“

“no!”

based on what i found on google, “it wasn’t warm” translates to “Atatakakunakatta” so i thought why not! if it’s wrong tho, do correct me pls!

note: based on a cute thing @aurelianamu told me abt her and satoru :) this one’s for you best friend!

#moon's works #jujutsu kaisen #gojo satoru #gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojo jjk #jujutsu kaisen gojo #gojou satoru x reader #jjk gojo #gojo fluff #gojo comfort #gojo imagine #gojo headcanons #jujutsu kaisen headcanon #jujutsu kaisen imagines #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader

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cherryrikis · 1 month

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ONE LESS LONELY GIRL - 002 ! inconveniently convenient

PAIRING idols riki x fem reader

SYNOPSIS fans always point out the chemistry between you and riki, and it only continues to grow after you become mc’s together on music bank. but as your feelings rise, so does the tension. and people begin to notice, so you try not to let riki know how you feel. but unbeknownst to you, he feels entirely the same way.

authors note im trying to update as often as i can bc i start school in 2 days😭

previous <> masterlist <> next

with the manager’s permission, you and minji left the dorm to walk together to the local convenience store.

“look, they have an enhypen lucky draw event here.” she pointed out as you both walked past it by the entrance.

“can we get one on the way out?” your eyes lit up at the mention of it, while you followed minji down the produce aisle. “sure, why not.”

the two of you picked out a few snacks and some drinks for the dorm until you began making your way to the cash register to check out. “would you like to buy a bag today for 500 won?” the clerk asked with a cheerful tone. “yes please.”

“your total is 35,500 won. also- i don’t mean to intrude. but i am a big fan. you guys did so good performing at music bank today!” she encouraged.

“aw, thank you so much!” minji smiled with a wave, paying for the groceries before following you to the lucky draw machine.

you each pressed the button once, flipping the photocards over so you couldn’t see who you got. on the count of three, you both turned it over, revealing your pulls. you had gotten sunghoon, and minji had pulled riki.

“oh, it’s your boyfriend. here, keep it.” she teased with a smirk. but as soon as minji slightly looked at the person behind you, her face fell.

“wow. he’s pretty handsome.” a voice from behind you called out.

you were mortified. as soon as you turned around, you were met with none other than-

“-riki! poor yn. you’re scaring her!” jungwon frowned, lightly slapping riki’s arm with the back of his hand. “sorry about that.” he apologized on the younger boy’s behalf.

“no worries. i’m sorry. you really caught me off guard.” you smiled.

“suddenly i feel underdressed.” minji joked as she gestured to jungwon, who still hadn’t changed out the stage outfit he wore on music bank.

“oh, not at all. if anything, i’m overdressed.” he waved. “normally i’d change as soon as we get home, but practice ran late. and this one here was hogging the shower as soon as he was first inside the dorm.” jungwon nudged riki’s stomach.

while they became immersed in their own conversations, riki moved closer to you, wanting to engage with you as well.

“hey, good job today at mubank. nice to know you find me.. charming.” he winked.

“gosh. if i hear someone say music bank one more time, i might just die. it was awful.” you groaned.

“i thought it was pretty cute.” he shrugged.

“what are you guys doing here anyway?” you asked, changing the topic. “it’s pretty late.”

“oh. jungwon got the penalty to buy everyone food, since he was last to the dorms. but i came because he never knows where to find the japanese snacks. good thing i didn’t stay home though.” riki gestured to you who currently held his photocard in your card.

“sorry about today. i was really nervous..” you looked down, scratching the back of your neck.

he tilted his head in confusion, before using his hand to tilt your chin up. “yeah, no kidding. you were practically shaking the whole interview.” riki pouted.

you groaned as you suddenly felt shy yet again, beginning to bring your hand up to cover your face once more. only riki had held your wrist, bringing your arm down.

“stop avoiding me. it’s okay. we’re all like that at first.” he comforted.

and suddenly, you felt better.

“hey, we’re gonna go now.” jungwon informed. “let’s walk back together? i mean, we live in the same building anyway.”

surely, you were bound to be recognized. but you couldn’t bring yourself to care in the moment. you laughed freely as riki joked with you, walking shoulder to shoulder together as minji and jungwon were a bit more ahead.

“you know, i was pretty nervous too. at the interview. to think that i got to be next to you, let alone have the yoon yn stare at me whenever i spoke? dream come true.” he clutched his chest, faking a fainting motion.

“you’re just saying that to make me feel better.” you rolled your eyes playfully.

“no, really. i’m dead serious. why do you think i kept making eye contact with you?”

and suddenly the world stopped spinning once more. you smiled as you felt riki’s arm wrap around your upper half, securing you as you walked towards the entrance of the building together.

you screamed into the pillow yet again, but this time, not out of embarrassment or fear.

“what’s going on?” hanni asked, coming out the bathroom with a sheet mask on.

she took a seat next to you and hyein on her bed, while minji, danielle, and haerin stayed on danielle’s bed.

“when we went to the store, we ran into jungwon and riki. they were talking to each other the entire time. jungwon and i saw them literally making heart eyes.” minji’s lips curled into a smirk, as she took a spoonful from her pudding cup.

“no kidding.. check this out!” hyein called out, gesturing for everyone to gather around her as she held out her phone.

TAGLIST (italics = couldnt be tagged) @hannicorpse @luvvhaerin @itzningning @en-verse @ren2jay @choppedballoondetective @heartheejake @imanalien143 @istglevi-gotmesimping @yndairy @eleanorheartschishiya @lonelylandofan @gweoriz @jaemified @onlyhyunjin @softpia @frecklesbrownies @riksaes @wensurr @rikifordmiami @brideslit @ant-onie @yumilovesloona @aeminju @hoonics @catecita @clampclover @rei4sunoo @addictedtohobi @rikidaze @baekxo07 @xotyla @melancholy-z @rikisgeef @jung1w0n @tocupid @onlyseung @i03jae

#enhypen #enhypen x reader #niki smau #niki x reader #enhypen niki #nishimura riki #enhypen imagines #riki x reader #enhypen smau #riki smau #enhypen scenarios

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princessbrunette · 6 months

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playlists for the readers … ໒꒰ྀིᵔ ³ ᵔ ꒱ྀིა

bunny!reader ♡

just girly fun vibes — she likes her music catchy, pop-y and fairly relatable. rafe never lets her play her music in the car unfortunately, because he cannot be seen speeding down the road blasting the pussy cat dolls.

🎀 cassie — ditto

🎀 kali uchis, steve lacy, vince staples — only girl

🎀 frank ocean — sweet life

🎀 coco & clair — pretty

🎀 sabrina carpenter — feather

🎀 flo milli — never lose me

🎀 cassie — miss your touch

🎀 childish gambino, jhené aiko — pink toes

🎀 flo.rida, wynter — sugar

🎀 kali uchis — honey baby (SPOILED!)

🎀 angels — my boyfriends back

🎀 foxy brown, kelis — candy

🎀 lana del rey — music to watch boys to

🎀 jhené aiko — maniac

🎀 fergie — clumsy

🎀 ciara, 50 cent — can’t leave ‘em alone

🎀 shelley duvall — he needs me

🎀 nancy sinatra — sugar town

🎀 heidi montag — i’ll do it

🎀 nicki minaj, jeremiah — favourite

🎀 kali uchis — melting

🎀 lady gaga — boys boys boys

🎀 cassie — long way 2 go

🎀 the pussycat dolls — when i grow up

🎀 tom tom club — genius of love

🎀 beyoncé — freakum dress

🎀 gwen stefani — bubble pop electric

🎀 marina — primadonna girl

🎀 madonna — material girl

🎀 pussy cat dolls — stickwitu

🎀 leven kali, syd — do u wrong

🎀 kiana ledé — mad at me

kitty!reader ♡

listens to her music to feel cool n edgy. shes one of those people that think she’s a bitch but she’s not at all, just a lil grumpy. wants everyone to know she liked deftones before it was cool.

🐈‍⬛ pixies — is she weird

🐈‍⬛ arctic monkeys — mardy bum

🐈‍⬛ black box recorder — child psychology

🐈‍⬛ the smiths — pretty girls make graves

🐈‍⬛ ethel cain — crush

🐈‍⬛ mazzy star — she’s my baby

🐈‍⬛ radiohead — creep

🐈‍⬛ chris isaak — wicked game

🐈‍⬛ limp bizkit — rollin’

🐈‍⬛ the pretty reckless — makes me wanna die

🐈‍⬛ pearly drops — bloom for me

🐈‍⬛ deftones — root

🐈‍⬛ fka twigs — two weeks

🐈‍⬛ deftones — romantic dreams

🐈‍⬛ hole — doll parts

🐈‍⬛ margeaux — hot faced

🐈‍⬛ siouxsie and the banshees — she’s a carnival

🐈‍⬛ kip tyler — she’s my witch

🐈‍⬛ deftones — mascara

🐈‍⬛ soho dolls — bang bang bang bang

🐈‍⬛ enigma — sadeness

🐈‍⬛ DANGERDOOM, MF DOOM — perfect hair

🐈‍⬛ radiohead — idioteque

🐈‍⬛ björk — come to me

🐈‍⬛ the nbhd — fallen star

🐈‍⬛ arctic monkeys — crying lightening

🐈‍⬛ deftones — diamond eyes

🐈‍⬛ the smiths — girl afraid

🐈‍⬛ ethel cain — unpunishable

🐈‍⬛ mitski — townie

🐈‍⬛ gorillaz — kids with guns

🐈‍⬛ evanescence — taking over me

deer!reader ♡

she’d say her playlists are all over the place — but it’s organised mess. she has them perfectly collated and in her head they make perfect sense. don’t put her on the aux though, not because the songs aren’t good but because the vibes are all over the place.

🍪 shura — 2shy

🍪 minnie riperton — les fleurs

🍪 april march — chick habit

🍪 benee — kool

🍪 camille saint- saëns — … le cygne

🍪 the little dippers — forever

🍪 allie x, mitski — susie save your love

🍪 she & him — why do you let me stay here?

🍪 lesley gore — i’m coolin’ no foolin’

🍪 sza — prom

🍪 the penguins — earth angel

🍪 SALES — renee

🍪 cleo sol — sunshine

🍪 japanese breakfast — be sweet

🍪 kate bush — cloud busting

🍪 mazzy star — halah

🍪 the mamas & papas — dedicated to the one i love

🍪 scissors sisters — filthy / gorgeous

🍪 fiona apples — shameika

🍪 fleetwood mac — mystified

🍪 margo guryan — under my umbrella

🍪 erykah badu — apple tree

🍪 mort garson — plantasia

🍪 sza — sweet november

🍪 quadron — sea salt

🍪 corinne bailey rae — green aphrodisiac

🍪 sade — lovers rock

🍪 ella fitzgerald — moonlight serenade

🍪 cigarettes after sex — truly

🍪 tv girl — heaven is a bedroom

🍪 the velvet underground — femme fetale

🍪 clairo, coco & clair — racecar

🍪 james blake, rosalía — barefoot in the park

🍪 tame impala — nangs

puppy!reader ♡

never seen without her walkman — loves running around and dancing to her upbeat music. her playlists will remind you of days in the sun and dancing in summer rain.

🐶 her’s — love on the line (call now)

🐶 HAIM — summer girl

🐶 the la’s — there she goes

🐶 stacey q — two of hearts

🐶 faye webster — right side of my neck

🐶 bakar, summer walker — hell n back

🐶 beabadoobee — sunny day

🐶 dominic fike — babydoll

🐶 jungle — back on 74

🐶 pinkpanthress — attracted to you

🐶 duran duran — girls on film

🐶 shuggie otis — strawberry letter 23

🐶 sixpence none the richer — kiss me

🐶 matilda mann — bloom

🐶 HAIM — falling

🐶 311 — amber

🐶 earth, wind & fire — boogie wonderland

🐶 lorde — ribs

🐶 lesley gore — sunshine lollipops and rainbows

🐶 stevie wonder — all i do

🐶 the human league — don’t you want me

🐶 the turtles — happy together

🐶 pet shop boys — west end girls

🐶 clairo — bags

🐶 pat benetar — love is a battlefield

🐶 the psychedelic furs — love my way

🐶 scouting for girls — she’s so lovely

🐶 noisettes — wild young hearts

🐶 the all eyes i — beat goes on

🐶 tame impala — elephant

🐶 sublime — waiting for my ruca

🐶 mgmt — boogie down

#bunny!reader #kitty!reader #deer!reader #puppy!reader

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cleolinda · 11 months

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The Scariest Movie I Ever Saw in a Theater: The Ring

I'll tell you up front that the story I'm going to tell you is about "The Ring (2002)," in the sense that it is about The Ring in the year 2002.

See, I don't know what The Scariest Movie Ever is. A quick google says that the consensus is The Exorcist (I haven't seen it, because I never felt like scheduling a day to freak myself the entire fuck out). But horror is specific, and not just to a person, but to a time and place, even. When I saw The Shining as a teenager in a well-lit living room with other people, I didn't even really flinch, but I bet it would play very differently to me now. I don’t think The Ring is at the top of anyone’s list, but twenty years ago, I had a personal interest in it—at the time, I was running a dinky little Geocities site devoted to movie news. Links curated and compiled from all the other, bigger sites I followed—basically, it was the linkspam format I have used on multiple platforms, including here on Sundays. And so, as someone who followed theatrical releases pretty closely for two or three years, I saw the trailer for The Ring, and I immediately knew it was going to be huge.

To locate you in time, this was just after three self-satirizing Scream movies and the Overcomplicated Serial Killer films of the '90s. The Ring was something completely different: chill aqua-blue color grading a good 5-6 years before Twilight; a mournful Hans Zimmer score; no jokes, no quips; and a slow, inexorable sense of doom. Grief, even, given that the movie begins with the death of the main character's niece. What immediately struck me about the first trailer was 1) the melancholy of it, and 2) how much it doesn't explain. Onscreen, you get the title cards,

THERE IS A VIDEOTAPE IF YOU WATCH IT SEVEN DAYS LATER YOU DIE

youtube

Concise! Understandable! A woman (Naomi Watts) is freaking out upon discovering that her young son has just watched it! Admirable job setting up the premise and the stakes of this entire movie in thirty seconds flat, without even any dialogue. That's all you need to know, and thus, the remaining minute of the trailer can do whatever it wants, and what it wants to do is be fucking weird. Echoing voices, TV static, a closeup of a horse's eye, ladders, a girl with dark hair, people reacting to things we don't see, drippy doorknobs, rain. Characters don't give us the whole plot in convenient soundbites of dialogue (like they do in a later trailer); we just hear lines, overlapping, murmured out of context—

did you see it in your head? she talks to you... leading you somewhere... showing you the horses... you saw it. did you see it in your head? she shows me things. Everyone suffers.

That you saw it has lived in my head ever since, and not once have I charged it rent. But the "best" part is Naomi Watts screaming at the end, because you don't hear her voice; you only hear this heartless telephonic beeeeeeep. It's 2002 and I'm watching this trailer, thinking, I have no idea what the fuck I just saw. This is going to be huge.

And it was, to the tune of $249 million on a $48M budget.

At risk of recapping what you might already know, Ringu, aka Ring, is a media franchise that spiraled out from a trio of Koji Suzuki novels into Hideo Nakata's film Ringu (1998), a landmark of Japanese horror, plus several other movies, some TV series, many comics, and even a couple of video games. The overarching story is about a murdered girl/vengeful ghost named Sadako Yamamura whose rage and pain have created a cursed video tape, you watch it and you die unless you pass the tape around like a virus, seven daaaaays, etc.

The "ring" in question is the rim of a well. Keep that well in mind.

The movie I saw is the U.S. remake, which itself had two sequels. (The iconic Sadako is now named Samara Morgan. Keep her in mind, too.) Director Gore Verbinski moved from The Ring to Pirates of the the Caribbean (!), and so Hideo Nakata himself would direct The Ring Two. I... honestly have only seen the first one. And I was right, it was huge, and it kicked off the American J-Horror Remake genre, for better or worse. But what gets forgotten about The Ring is its marketing campaign, which I followed pretty closely for my doofy little news site.

It was inspired.

The story of The Ring is partly the story of the sea change in the media landscape—how we watch movies. And the story of its marketing is a picture of the very last years before social media changed the wilderness of the internet into something that feels so big, like a billion people could see anything we say, and yet so small—only a tame handful of places to say it, owned by three or four companies, and corraled by algorithms.

Back around 1997-1998 or so, I worked at a video store (Movie Gallery, where the hits were there then, guaranteed) for about a year and a half. By the time I left, we had started adding DVDs to the VHS tapes on the shelves, but we hadn't replaced the entire stock. Video stores might have transitioned fully to DVD by 2002, I'm not sure, but people still commonly had both VCRs and DVD players in their homes. And I remember that The Ring was sold in both formats when it eventually hit home video. Which is to say—you know the analog horror genre today? Marble Hornets, Local 58, The Mandela Catalogue?

Analog horror is commonly characterized by low-fidelity graphics, cryptic messages, and visual styles reminiscent of late 20th-century television and analog recordings. This is done to match the setting, as analog horror works are typically set between the 1960s and 1990s. The name "analog horror" comes from the genre's aesthetic incorporation of elements related to analog electronics, such as analog television and VHS, the latter being an analog method of recording video.

Okay, but this is just what home media was like, and 2002 was at the very tail end of that—boxy black VHS tapes that degraded with time and reuse were just how we lived. At the same time, I'd been using CDs for music since about 1991, and all our software installs came on CD-ROM discs; a "mixtape" by that time had shifted to mean a rewriteable CD rather than a cassette tape. In college, I—well, I'll plead the Fifth as to whether I downloaded mp3s via Napster, but I was also taping Mystery Science Theater 3000 on VHS over the weekends. It was Every Format Everywhere, All At Once, and we kept half a dozen kinds of players around for them. Here in 2023, we stream and download everything invisibly, unless we choose to engage in format nostalgia. (I've already run into the problem of Apple Music deleting songs I really liked, due to this or that licensing issue, because I was really only renting them.) The year The Ring hit theaters was the edge of a last shimmering gasp of physical media where iTunes had only come into being the year before, and iridescent discs were still mostly what we used, but cassettes, both video and audio, were still viable. And so, people did not think it was terribly weird when they started finding unlabeled VHS tapes on their windshields.

Movieweb, quoting TikTok user astro_nina:

"Their marketing strategy was essentially 'let's get this tape viewed by as many people as possible without these people being aware of what this is, sort of raising intrigue," she says. One way they achieved this was by airing the tape, which allegedly marks its viewers for death within seven days, as a commercial with no context. The video would air between late-night programming "with no words, no mention of a movie, for like a month...so people would run into it and it would just go on to the next thing, and people would be like, 'what the f--k is this?'"

I remember seeing the Cursed Video as an unexplained ad at least twice, by the way. That TikTok also indicates that DreamWorks straight-up sent copies of the tape to Hot Topic stores, as well as planting them under actual movie theater seats. While running my movie site, I heard at least one story of someone finding a tape on the sink counter of a restroom at a club. Did the marketing department actually plant tapes in bathrooms—or did a freaked-out recipient leave it there, hoping to dodge the "curse"?

(I haven't embedded the Cursed Video here, by the way—but I could have. If you'd like to see the American take on it, you can watch both the full version and the shorter variant that appeared in the movie itself. A text description of what the fuck you're even looking at is here [content note for both: blood, insects, animal death, body horror, and suicide by falling]. The original version from the Japanese film is shorter, and it's eerie rather than gruesome.)

BUT WAIT, THERE WAS MORE: DreamWorks had something of an alternate-reality campaign going with a handful of in-character websites. This was only a year after Warner Bros. ran the groundbreaking "The Beast" ARG for A.I.: Artificial Intelligence: "Ultimately, fifty websites with a total of about one thousand pages were created for the [A.I.] game." (I lurked in the Cloudmakers Yahoo group.) Marketing for The Ring did not go anywhere that in depth, nor did it need to; it was both a smaller film and a smaller story. I saw at least two “personal” websites (seemingly amateur and a little tacky, like my own), but the one I particularly remember was about someone who owned/trained horses? I'm not sure if it was meant to be the actual Anna Morgan character—Samara's mother—or maybe someone who had noticed that the Morgans' horses were disturbed? I'm not even sure anyone even remembers this but me. Reddit users dug up a few other archived websites, but they're about Sadako, the curse and/or videotape; they aren't as subtle or character-oriented as the site I remember. (Honestly, I wonder if weird shit like "What Scares Me" or "SEVEN DAYS TO LIVE" were made by fans rather than a marketing department, but who knows.)

[The “About” page from Seven Days to Live on the Internet Archive.]

[The entirety of An Open Letter on the Internet Archive. “UPDATE” is a now-blank pop-up. I would bet $5 that it was originally a pop-up of the cursed video.]

I need to point out here that Facebook did not exist in 2002. It would not exist for another two years, and Twitter wouldn't exist until 2006. Even MySpace was not a thing until the next year. I didn't start my Livejournal until October of 2003. What we had, for the most part, were independent forums and blogs. We also had Creepy Internet Fiction like "The Dionaea House" and "Ted the Caver"; their use of the blog format, of people out there seemingly living their lives until something fucked up went down, gave the stories the shape of reality. And it helped that these blogs had comment sections, sure—sometimes more story unfolded there—but for the most part, an author could "abandon" a blog, and you'd just find the story there via word of mouth. Like the Ring blogs I remember, it wouldn't seem strange if no one replied to you, whereas today, you'd have to hire a writer to sit on Twitter, or Reddit, or even Tumblr, and interact with people in character. Could you do something like The Ring's mysterious, weird-ass blogs today? Would anyone even notice?

So: It's 2002, my head is full of Alternate Reality and eerie images and you saw it, and I'm hype as hell to go out and see The Ring. I'm perfectly happy to go see movies by myself, so I went in the early afternoon (best time to get a good seat). The movie ended up being a sleeper hit, and the first weekend, the public was still sleeping on it, so there were only 7-8 other people in that theater, grouped in maybe two clusters. I was off in my own little pool of darkness in the upper right quadrant. Functionally, once the lights went down, I was alone.

Despite some middling reviews at the time, The Ring is something of a horror classic nowadays. If you want a scary movie this Spooky Season, check out The Ring. Or don't, because it nearly killed me.

We're at the last, I don't know, third of the movie? And Our Heroine has tracked down the origin of the Cursed Videotape to some creepy mountain motel or whatever. SPOILER, it turns out that it was built over the Cursed Well (everything in this movie is cursed) that Our Villain was thrown into—that's why Sadako/Samara is a vengeful wet murder ghost crawling out of TVs now. While investigating this decrepit hotel room, intrepid journalist Rachel and her, who is it, her ex-husband? her kid's dad, idk, discover the well under the creaky old floorboards. And then, wouldn't you know it,

NAOMI WATTS FALLS INTO THE WELL

NAOMI WATTS FALLS INTO THE FUCKING WELL

THAT'S WHERE SAMARA'S BODY IS

youtube

[The rather slapstick moment when Rachel falls into the well. Does not include what actually happens next.]

I go absolutely rigid in my seat. Naomi Watts is splashing around this dark-ass death swamp of a well and I know, with as much certainty as I have ever known anything in my life, that Samara is about to pop up in all her pasty, waterlogged glory. All the sad creepy dread, all the desperation to figure out what the fuck all that shit on the tape was and stop Samara from killing Rachel's son, all the horrible contorted victim faces, all the alternate reality I’ve been soaking in, it has all come to this. I have to leave the theater. I cannot be having with this. I have to be gone from this place. My legs do not work. I cannot feel them. I am frozen. I want nothing more in this life or any other to get up and leave this cavernous pitch-black room, and I cannot. I start praying for death. I want you to understand that I am not trying to be flippant or humorous. This is genuinely what went through my head. I was too scared to even think, "You know, you could just pray to pass out or for motion to return to your limbs or something." No, I sat there in The Ring thinking, Please for the love of all mercy just let me cease being.

You know that scene in Mulholland Drive (also starring Naomi Watts)? Winkie's diner and the EXCRUCIATING tension? It was a little like that, except I wasn't watching it, I was experiencing it, and Samara was my dirt monster out behind the diner.

Except that the jump scare didn't actually happen. I mean, yes, Rachel finds Samara's body down there, but—I don't remember exactly, please don't make me go watch it again to tell you what actually happens. It's played more sympathetically on Rachel's part, as I recall, and she and her ex get Samara's body out so that she (Samara) can have a proper burial.

And then it turns out that this is not the end of the movie. It turns out that Rachel has Fucked Up.

I think I was relatively okay through the rest of it, although the climax is Samara emerging from a TV in her full glitching swampy glory to scare [SPOILER] to death. I don't recall praying for death twice. There's a point when you're so exhausted from fear chemicals that you're like, yeah, this might as well happen. Bring it, Soggy. I did have a hard time prying myself out of that seat afterwards, though, and my mom says that when I got home, I had the classic thousand-yard stare. How was the movie?

"It was great," I said, and I meant it.

I've seen things that were objectively scarier (I watched much of The Haunting of Hill House from behind a pillow, to be honest), and it's not like I've never experienced fear in real life. But I respect when a movie that can make me feel so intensely, and there's something weirdly precious about the way horror is a safe roller coaster, as it's often been said. So I love telling the story about The Time The Ring Nearly Killed Me—a movie that actually made my body stop working—and I love thinking of how embedded in a specific time and place that movie was for me. The last gasp of VHS when the Cursed Videotape still seemed plausible; the way the internet was still wild and weird and free; where I was in my life, keeping up so avidly with all the movie news, and finding myself in such a little pool of darkness early one afternoon. It's the scariest movie I saw in a theater; that's the alchemy of circumstance.

#the ring #ringu #horror #first look on patreon #movies #long post #spooky season #halloween everyday #long post is long #gifs

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jealousmartini · 4 months

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BETTER CR INTRODUCTION PT.1

— Welcome home —

╭╔═════════════♱═════════════╗

[ # 000 :: BASIC INFO ]

Date of DR :: 2024 / 26 / 08

Name :: Lucia R. Martinez

Adopted name :: Lovely R. adopted surname

korean birthname :: Hwang Chae-kyung

Nicknames :: Keisha/keesh, lucy, liv, kyu

Age :: 18

DOB :: 2006 / 20 / 06

Current occupation :: College student

Ethnicity :: Puerto rican & Korean

MUM: (american)SOUTH KOREAN/Japanese

DAD: PUERTO RICAN/Mexican

Race :: Black (mixed)

Languages :: English, Spanish, Korean, and Portuguese (a little bit of Mandarin Chinese)

Birth family :: Mum (46), Dad (50), older sister (21), and younger sister (9)

Pets :: 2 bunnies. Tiffany(Tiff for short) and Maple

∘₊ ✧───────────────────✧₊∘

[ # 001 :: TALENTS ]

Can mimic different artstyles || Plays the guitar (electric, acoustic and bass) , drums, cello, flute, and violin || can cook || can sing, freestyle rap and dance various styles || can crotchet and sew || can scrapbook ||

[ # 002 :: HOBBIES ]

Comic artist (Digital and traditional) || Animator || Music production & Song writing || Fashion style influencing/modelling || Editing (Like tiktok edits lmao☠️) || Creative writing || Youtube content creation (Commentary / Reacting, Animations, Live streaming) || Cosplays || Cooking || Gaming

∘₊ ✧───────────────────✧₊∘

[ # 003 :: SONGS PRODUCED AND WRITTEN]

MAGNETIC by ILLIT

Lucky Girl Syndrome by ILLIT

Monster by Lady gaga

Flying to space by Andriod52

LIGHT by RITCHRD

Say by RITCHRD

BROOKLYN BLOOD POP by SYKO

Fluxxwave eternal remix by Release

Lovesick girls (instrumental only) by BLACKPINK

FEEL SPECIAL by TWICE

Trouble by Annella

Girls never die by TripleS

LA DI DA by EVERGLOW

MOLLY by Playboi carti

Heaven sent by ???

etc.

∘₊ ✧───────────────────✧₊∘

[ # 004 :: SOCIAL MEDIA ]

[ # 005 :: FUTURE AMBASSADORED BRANDS]

Vivian Westwood || Pandora || Juicy Couture ||

∘₊ ✧───────────────────✧₊∘

[ # 006 :: CASH ]

Parent's Networth combined :: 970M

Bank account :: 715M

Cash in purse :: 40K

How much I get paid doing :: Youtube — £20K weekly, £250K monthly || Making music — £450K monthly || Art commissions — £600 weekly || Modelling — £300K weekly

∘₊ ✧───────────────────✧₊∘

[ # 007 :: BEDROOM ]

This exact room layout/format

This kind of vibe :: Big, Bright, Pink

╰╚═════════════♱═════════════╝

Waiting room intro coming soon😋🤞🏾

@livingmydreamlife5555 @4ellieluv @chichis-interlude @samara444 @revrealities @sincerehimbo @theshifterbear

#shiftblr #shifters #desired reality #master manifestor #law of assumption #4d reality #shifting #reality shifting #shifttok #loa blog #drself #loa #loa affirmations #loassblog #loassumption

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alexa-fika · 6 months

Note

Idk which pirate crew to choose but what about a fem ghost child who lives on an island or ship. Their pretty lonely since they died alone and all they want is a family. So when a pirate crew shows up she kinda tries to keep them from leaving. Kinda angsty? Maybe the crew ends up adopting her??

Hunger and Solitude (Brook x f!child!ghost!reader x Sanji)

A/N y’all I cooked right here, I ‘ll be homest when I read this I was like UM BROOK 100% but then I was like thinking of the plot and the backround of Reader for the story and I was like I need Sanji here. This story is more on the heavy side and unlike my other ones this is not the squealing like a little kid type as it includes themes of death and starvation but just as wholesome in my opinion

Reader here is replaced by Dokucha which stands for reader in japanese

Dividers by @/saradika

Brook found himself walking around the cabin his crew had ended up in, attempting to take shelter from a snowstorm that raged on the island they were visiting.

The abandoned cabin, if one could call it that, didn’t seem abandoned at all; it seemed weird to the skeleton. Usually, he would be against abandoned places, lest they find a ghost or other undead beings, but this place seemed taken care of; everything was in order, no dust, no cobwebs, no roof caving in on itself; it seemed like a typical house, but yet not a soul could be found.

“Brook, you noticed it too, right?” Sanji says, walking up to him, the usual cigarettes resting between his lips

“Yes, this place… it’s abandoned, and there isn’t anyone here or around, yet this place is immaculate,” he replies, glancing around the room

“There has to be someone here,” The chef concludes

Dokucha looked down at the two men, studying them from the rafters up above

Brook paused at the sound of a childish giggle, slowly looking up and spotting a small girl looking back at him

“…”

“A GHOST!” He cries, pulling out his sword from the cane

“You’re a skeleton!” Sanji hollers back at him, annoyed

“Stop!”

Brook stills for a second, taking over the ghost that was, at this point, in front of them

“You’re a child…”

“I’m sorry! Please don’t hurt me!”

“Hey, Hey, it’s okay; we have no intentions of hurting you,” Sanji said, kneeling down to her level and trying to ease her down

Brook sheaths his sword once again. He looked around once again, still perplexed at this place

“You live here, don’t you?”

“Yeah,” she said, sniffling

“Where are your Parents?” he asked, despite deep down already knowing the answer

“They all died, rain never came, and food ran out.“ she cried

“I stayed, but I saw momma starve, I saw papa starve, and no one came back.”

Brook and Sanji, both still at that, memories both flooding their minds at the story of the small girl

“So you stayed here, alone, by yourself, all by yourself,” Brook muttered

“I am deeply sorry, little Madam; I know the feeling very well.”

After the words had been spoken a sudden chill filled the air, snow beginning to blast around them as white began to cover the room they stood in

Sanji looks up at the spectable and back down at the girl, quick to understand the connection between the two

“Shut up! You don’t, you don’t know what it feels like!” She screams, eyebrows furrowed, eyes filled with both fury and pain

“Yes, I do,” The skeleton spoke

“LIAR” she growled as hail began to fall around them

“I cannot relate to starving to death, but I can relate to having to watch everyone around you die while you remain.”

“You’re lying!.” She hisses

“I am not lying to you, Madam,” He says calmly

“My whole crew died in front of me.”

The raging storm around them begins to lessen around them at the comment, furious winds going down to a cold breeze brushing against them as the girl stared wide eyes at the swordsman

“T-they died?” she said, stepping closer to the skeleton

“They did.”

She walks towards him

“But you stayed? Alone?”

“I did.”

With that the wind around them stilled, the snow that pelted them before now falling melancholically from the ceiling

“It hurts…” she cries

“I know, little Madam,” he says, opening his arms, signaling her to come closer

She runs to him, sobbing in his arms

“I miss Mama; I miss Papa!”

Brook wraps his embrace around the young girl, slowly rocking her back and forth

“Don’t cry; it will be okay. “

She turned her head to look at the blond man

“Did you stay behind, too?” She asked between her sobs and hacks

“Not quite,” Sanji replies

“I… I know what it is to starve, however,” He said, putting his hand over her head

“I got washed to an uninhabitable land with…my father. Our resources eventually ran out. I had thought father had more food and went after him only to find out he had given his rations to me, and he had taken to eat his own leg to survive.”

“It hurt so much, the pangs, I couldn’t stop them, I couldn’t get up,” she weeped

“I know…im sorry, i’m sorry” he whispered

“Little Madam, this snowstorm, it’s your doing, isn’t it?” Brook replied, sitting down with Sanji and Dokucha next to him; once the girl had calmed down

“It is…I’m sorry I kept Mister Brook and Mister Sanji and their friends here, but… it’s been so long since I saw someone, and I got excited, but you were about to leave, and I … I didn’t want to be alone again.”

“Don’t apologize. Your intentions were not to hurt us, and I’m grateful because we got to meet you,” Sanji replies to the little girl

“How long have you been living here by yourself?” Brook asked curious

She shrugs

“A long time”

Sanji and Brook glanced at each other; at that moment, the two men had silently agreed to something; they were not leaving this place without the girl

“Dokucha, why don’t you come with us?” asked Sanji

“Come with you?”

Sanji nods. “Yes, you know a ship? Where we all live. A ship with a nice kitchen, and plenty of others that will always look out for you”

“You want me?”

“Of course!” Brook says, reaching out his hand toward her

“Come on, you're not staying.”

“You will love our Captain, you know? He won’t leave without you either.”

“Are you sure?”

The two men nodded with a smile on their face

“Of course, of course! Now, come on! Yohohoho,” Brook said, standing up, grabbing the girl, throwing her in the air, and laughing further when the girl let out an airy string of elated giggles at the action

“We won’t let you be alone anymore.”

“And I will never let you be hungry ever again, you hear?”

“Thank you, Misters, Thank you!” she cried, hugging the skeleton’s neck, more tears cascading down her eyes at the turn of events

“I have never been happier than I am now,” she confesses

“Yohohoho, I know that feeling as well, little Madam!”

“Don’t cry, and don’t worry, if you ever feel alone, if you ever feel lonely, you can always come and talk to us, alright?” He says to her

“The crew and us will always make some time for you, so you won’t be alone again.”

Who the hell is cutting onions? Im not crying you are 😭

Taglist:

@imaginarydreams

@amethystviolin

@h0n3y-l3m0n05

#one piece x reader #one piece #one piece imagine #one piece x child!reader #brook one piece #soul king brook #op brook #brook x reader #brook x child!reader #sanji x child!reader #straw hat sanji #with: sanji #vinsmoke sanji #sanji x reader #op sanji #one piece sanji #black leg sanji #sanji

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sempersirens · 8 months

Text

the fig tree | rotten

pairing: therapist!joel x f!reader

warnings: 18+ mdni. discussion of heavy and potentially triggering topics such as sa, self-harm, infertility, various mental illnesses, self-hatred and drug use. these topics are only mentioned and do not occur in real-time.

chapter summary: a twenty-something, seemingly lost cause, meets her match in the form of psychotherapist: dr. joel miller.

dividers by @saradika-graphics

updates: @sempersirenswrites

series masterlist

Maybe it was time to accept you were never as good as you'd always thought you'd been.

For four long years, you had spent most of your waking hours dissecting epic poetry and papyrology.

Still, the most your degree had done for you was rouse a satisfying disappointment from your mother’s side of the family when they realised you weren’t actually going to be that kind of doctor.

Not to say such in a self-deprecation; you hardly suffered from any semblance of an imposter syndrome. Your mother used to frequently remind you that you were far too vain to not believe in yourself.

It was more of a philosophical framework. Platonic realism. Knowing your muted beauty could earn you a free drink from below-average men who felt their trousers tighten when you addressed them through your eyelashes.

But it wasn't an obvious enough beauty for the attention of the men you imagined exchanging bodily fluids with between stops on the underground.

Besides, you had been a student of Classical Studies; a degree that doesn’t require the intellectual strain of learning Latin or Ancient Greek. The inclusive way for people like you, having attended a run-down state-funded school, to get a glimpse into the Bullingdon boys' and grammar schoolgirls’ fallback plans.

It wasn't even that you disliked Classics; you'd borderline gotten off on reading plays written by men about wicked women; but that was because the brilliant women were always the wicked ones.

You particularly enjoyed the assumptions men made about the female condition – how women were too wet, too porous; couldn’t keep their wombs from wandering. And assumptions they were. No Greek physician ever sliced a woman from chin to cunt to confirm their hypotheses. Although, ancient men hadn't been all too familiar with the insides of a woman anyway.

Sometimes, you thought you would quite simply die if you were reduced to only understanding people through your assumptions of them.

It was just that you could never stop thinking about what people thought. It was all you could ever think about. You wanted to peel people's skulls apart and scream at their horribly grey frontal lobe:

Are you ok? Have I done something to upset you? Do you still love me? Do I look like someone that has been raped? Do you think that girl we just walked past has a firmer ass than me? Do you like my new bangs?

For a short period of time, you'd been desperate to know how your therapist felt and thought of you. There is a sick irony in baring your bones to a stranger in the reclined chair opposite you who never even takes off their cardigan.

You needed to know if your traumas made him sad, or if he saw things that made him think of you outside of your sessions. You supposed he both pitied and admired you in a twisted, surrogate-daughter kind of way.

Then again, he probably wouldn’t have been a very good therapist did he not pity his clients.

At one point you thought you might be in love with him.

You'd met weekly in his high-ceiling office on a busy street. It was a romantic setting to unload twenty-four years of trauma to a kind man wearing a knitted cardigan. The sun would peak through clouds and shine onto the both of you through two large windows, between which sat a Japanese peace lily.

You soon realised he was just the first man to let you speak uninterrupted.

You spoke at him mostly, finishing observations that had been years in the making with “Does that make sense?” Even though you knew it made sense. You were certain, actually, that everything you had articulated came from somewhere deeper inside of you than any man could reach. You just couldn't leave it hanging there like an exposed nerve.

Maybe it was because he didn't speak much that you liked him. Sometimes he would offer anecdotes or remedies for PTSD-induced panic attacks that you both knew you would never use.

In most sessions, you had simply basked in the divinity of being listened to. You wondered if this was how devout Catholics like your grandmother felt at confession, or perhaps it was how all of your ex-boyfriends had felt.

You weren't even particularly attracted to him. He had been ten years older than you, and when your sessions first began, you'd been casually fucking someone a year older than him – but he didn't need to know that.

There were a lot of things you'd decided he didn't need to know. Like the fact you snorted cocaine until your nose bled, sliced into your thighs a couple of evenings a week, and let men use your body to masturbate as a feeble attempt to reclaim your sexuality - as if it had ever been anyone's for the taking.

Had he known the dirtier parts of your life, you feared he would have crossed out the word victim in his black Moleskin notebook and replaced it with bystander.

Maybe he would think you were a pathological liar and diagnose you with a personality disorder. This was something you'd been warned about by the first friend you had made at university.

“My mother is a therapist, you know. Don’t tell them you cut yourself or that you’ve told anyone you cut yourself – they’ll diagnose you with BPD.”

“But I’ve told you.”

“Trust me. They’ll put you on an SSRI and you’ll never be able to orgasm again.”

You were freshly eighteen and had never had a real orgasm anyway, but this terrified you enough to reel in your catalogue of symptoms for the GP appointment you had scheduled later that day.

In the end, you'd buckled and sobbed as the doctor sat adjacent to you. You didn’t mention the self-harming or the suicidal thoughts, but did tell her that you didn’t know where to go from here.

She'd slid a leaflet from the university's self-help website across the table before pushing her chair back and motioning toward the door.

“Call 999 if things get worse," she had said. "But let’s just hope it doesn’t get to that point. A&E is very overwhelmed at the moment.”

So you got on with it. Boats against the current, or whatever. You made the hurt so small and buried it so deep within you and swore you'd never let anyone get close enough to pick at the stray thread to your undoing.

And for a little while it worked. You became what you knew you should be; you presented your face for fucking and never let the door slam on your way out.

These days, you'd felt as though you were slowly becoming rotten.

It started on the surface; a bizarre case of adult acne that no dermatologist could diagnose for love nor money. Blood tests, topical steroids, antibiotics, potentially-baby-deforming drugs. You tried them all to little avail. In the end, it was simply the passing of time that had rid you of the rot.

Next, it had been your womb. Decomposing from the inside out. Your body had made the decision for you that goodness couldn't form in your guts.

The final straw had, embarrassingly, been your heart.

You hated to say it aloud. So much so that you hadn't. But it had been a quiet promise of yours; one you'd kept quietly close to your chest - that your suffering would never turn you ugly.

But here you were, alone and swearing at the wind, the rage beneath your skin growing like a tumour.

You hated it.

You hated yourself.

You hated that you were angry but had never been taught how to be angry, because anger wasn't a pretty emotion; it was one that should be starved and kept in the corner of your wardrobe to rot like black mould.

So here you stood: before a Victorian townhouse with your scarf furiously fighting the wind, droplets of rain threatening your freshly straightened hair, scanning various names scrawled on the building's buzzer.

S. PHYSIOTHERAPY

A & R SOLICITORS

J. MILLER PSYCHOTHERAPY

You bit the inside of your cheek and ducked further into the doorway, pressing the buzzer for the last option.

A voice had answered quicker than you'd anticipated, soon followed by a harsh buzz of the intercom.

"Come on up."

Dr. Miller's office was on the third floor.

You huffed, struggling with the combination of the stairs and attempting to wrangle your wet coat from your back. Amidst your struggle, you hear a door open somewhere above you, followed by a couple of soft and slow footsteps.

Your chin instinctively lifted toward the source of the noise, feet carrying you round and round the spiral staircase.

Light poured around his silhouette from the window behind him. It was ridiculous, actually. The sight was almost holy.

Neither of you spoke as you made your way up toward him. You felt as though you were on your knees beneath him, transfixed in supplication.

The sleeves of his blue cotton shirt were haphazardly pushed up just before his elbows, arms outstretched and fingers wrapped around the wooden bannister.

You were supposed to be actually trying with this one, not fantasising about the ways the veins in his arms probably bulged with his hand around your throat.

After being politely let go by your previous therapist, you'd promised yourself that the colleague he'd recommended to you, Dr. Miller, would be the one to fix you for good.

"Hello." He nodded, not quite managing a smile.

He reached a hand toward you, which you shook with the little strength left in your body.

"Hello." You tried your best to imitate his stoic cadence, your hand still tightly in his.

You let him break the handshake first, playing a petulant, one-sided game to see how quick he would be to scare.

"After you." He gestured to the room behind him. "Take a seat wherever you feel most comfortable."

"If there is any cowboy paraphernalia in that room I am not paying for this session."

"Excuse me?" His eyebrows knitted together, no sign of humour registering on his face.

"Your accent - it was a joke. I mean, I paid already anyway." You fumbled your words awkwardly. "Jokes are always much funnier when you explain them."

He cocked his head slightly. Hesitant to embarrass yourself further, you saw yourself into his office.

The room was dim for a space endowed with Victorian-style floor-to-ceiling windows. It felt like you could get lost in it, hide away, tuck yourself into a corner and be lost for days.

"I have your notes from Dr. Hughes." He said.

"Anything juicy?" You asked, still surveying the room.

You couldn't put your finger on the specifics of his scent, but it was familiar; like passing a man in the street wearing the same aftershave as your father, or a boyfriend you hadn't seen for years.

"I'd like to figure that out myself."

You'd eventually settled on the armchair positioned opposite his own.

You had briefly wondered if this was a test, that he would be psychoanalysing whether you chose the armchair or the adjacent sofa.

Maybe you'd failed already.

For the majority of the session, you'd gone through the necessary motions of admin, confidentiality, and what you eventually wanted to get out of therapy.

"I don't have the ability to fix you, y'know that right?" His question had caught you off guard.

"I know that." You'd replied meekly.

"It's just, I don't know what kind of promises Dr. Hughes made you. We trained together, you see. He had always been more, how do I put this, hopeful than I am."

"Oh wow. Forty minutes into our first session and you're already hopeless?" You were only partly joking.

"I'm a big believer in transparency, and I can see you were meeting on and off for a few years. I'm just intrigued as to what your end goal here is."

You bit down on your cheek, swallowing the ember of rage that was burning in your throat.

"Do you think I do this for fun? Carve out an hour a week to relive my deepest, darkest traumas?"

"Not at all. I just find it interesting that after almost three years of therapy, you still can't use the word rape. You've referred to it as the thing that happened four times already."

The rot crept up your throat, threatening to pour out of your mouth and fill the room with the ugliness that grew inside of you.

"What is this, some kind of tough love therapy?" You scoffed. Was he trying to get a rise out of you?

"It can be whatever you want it to be."

He was kind of annoying, actually.

The two of you sat in silence, defiantly holding eye contact with one another to see who would be the first to break. And when he finally spoke, it was more of a statement than a question.

"That's time. I'll see you at the same time next week."

"How are you so sure I'll come back?"

He smiled for the first time that afternoon.

"I'm not."

#my fic #the last of us #joel miller x f!reader #joel tlou #joel miller x reader #tlou fanfiction #pedro pascal #joel miller x female reader #pedro pascal characters #tlou hbo #tlou #joel miller fanfic #joel x reader #the last of us hbo #the last of us fanfiction #pedro pascal fanfic #pedrohub #pedrostories

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vagabond-umlaut · 1 year

Text

gray cashmere

Solitude makes many a tough decision too easy to make.

However, is one truly ever 'one'? Or are they 'one' from a collection of many such 'one's' — guaranteed to be affected by the actions of one another?

Strictly isolated systems are mere hypotheses, anyways.

[Alternatively: Amanai Riko's life overlaps with that of three young students from Tokyo Jujutsu High for only fifty-five hours, yet the effects they leave on her and the effects she leaves on them– they can be felt even after a period of one-hundred-and-fifty-five months.]

▸ student! gojo satoru x student! fem! reader; 4400 words of me trying my best to forget the horror of the 'Hidden Inventory Arc' by writing THE CANON-DIVERGENT FIC I DESPERATELY NEEDED TO FUNCTION ATP; riko is the little sister yours truly the reader never had; kuroi is the gentle sunshine on a winter afternoon; THE sweet romance between satoru & reader; suguru is the most awesome best friend and/or brother figure ever; FUSHIGURO TOJI IS HIS OWN WARNING; Hidden Inventory Arc Spoilers with Canon-Level Violence; Angst with a Happy Ending.

▸ notes: The reader's CT was to read others' thoughts freely without them knowing, but after a binding vow she undertook when young [disgusted with the way the old geezers governing the jujutsu society misused it for their personal gains], she lost it, gaining the ability to instantaneously kill an entity the moment she opts to read their mind in place. Not even a special-grade can stop her attack. Aniki = older brother in Japanese.

▸ belongs to series we're the summer to our winter rain but you can read this as a stand-alone if you wanna!

▸ the gif, divider and characters used ain't mine. please don't plagiarize, translate or repost this. enjoy reading! ❤️

DAY 1; 11:44

Yours is a beautiful, awful life when it's the one chosen for the sake of all.

Everyone everywhere will remain smiling, crying, speaking, yelling, moving – living, if put in a word– yet you'll be nothing more than a name and, if lucky, a fading face filed away in a mind. Yet, yet, yet– everyone everywhere will remain smiling, crying, speaking, yelling, moving— and one young Amanai Riko thinks that's what makes her fate so bearable.

Too bad one of her three bodyguards doesn't think along such lines.

"She's too young to die. Why is she even agreeing to this merger?"

Your quiet voice breaks Riko's scuttling from one room to another, in search of the things she needs for school.

Craning her neck, she peeks into the room, only to find you standing by the windows, holding a cup of tea delicately as you look intently at your companions. Geto's shoulders rise and fall in a short sigh. Gojo gets up from his slouch on the couch to drape an arm round you.

The girl thinks it's the softest she has seen the goggles-wearing boy appear in the time you all have been here.

(Honestly, this is the first time she is seeing Gojo act so careful and you, so disquietened, in the three hours the three of you have been here—

A jarring contrast to the way the boy introduced you as 'the coolest and hottest jujutsu sorcerer ever' who also happens to be his 'better half' while you greeted them with a beam (which did not reach your eyes) and turned away, focus switching to your beeping mobile.)

(Geto looked like an old grandpa then, when he whispered to Kuroi, a wide smile on his face as he looked at you, how difficult it was for the two of you to get together as a couple – and how happy and relieved he and your other friends are now, watching the two of you be so very in love with each other. Kuroi let out only a tiny quiet sigh with a small gentle smile at his words.)

Your boyfriend's voice pulls her away from her mind.

"You heard the brat, didn't you? She is Tengen-sama; Tengen-sama is her. So she isn't really going to die; she's going to live forever and ever and eve–"

"I thought I was the one who couldn't read between lines well in this relationship, 'Toru," you interrupt him, frowning. Riko finds it too hard to stifle the giggle that threatens to follow – albeit, the threat doesn't stay strong for long, vanishing away at your next words. Thrown into the room, a mix of visible anger and despair.

"The kid was obviously spouting all that nonsense, more as a means to convince herself than to convince us," you say; the young student considers bursting into the room, exclaiming she ain't a little kid, yet a voice in her urges her to stay put outside the door. Begrudgingly, she listens to it. You continue, tone the same as before.

"There's some part in Riko-chan which doesn't really want to merge with Master Tengen, but a burden once dumped on one's shoulders has to be carried, and Riko-chan has no option left but to choke that wily voice in her head until it quietens forever."

Gojo's eyes drift over to the door once. A bit startled and a lot scared, Riko shrinks into herself, yet budges not an inch from her spot. Focus returning to your puckered features, the junior high schooler watches him croon softly into your ears, "Babe, how about we discuss–"

"I don't think there'll be a later, Satoru," you say, then exhale air out in a burst of clear frustration, "And I seriously cannot understand how in this world you and Geto senpai can be so relaxed about this? Y'all are answering Yaga's calls as if Riko's an important but lifeless mail, while we three are some FedEx employees and not three sorcerers leading a girl a few years younger than us to her death, grinning and singing."

The cup in your grasp looks dangerously close to shattering; not to mention the way your cursed energy swells and swells until it comes too close to suffocating the hell out of her — it ebbs away faster than it came.

Face morphing into an easy smile, the girl watches you slip out from under your boyfriend's arm and walk over to her. She wishes the grin she shoots back is half as bright as she hopes it is.

"Hey, Riko-chan," you greet, voice shifting into a soothing melody, "Ready to go to school? Geto senpai's already called the driver. He must be waiting downstairs."

"Oh, I see," Riko responds, a bit lost as her gaze rakes over your face, then darts over to the two still in the room. The weird-bangs-sorcerer offers a small smile while he cuts an apple into slices. The other boy's eyes remain trained on the back of your head, upbeat nature nowhere to be seen.

She looks back at you. Kuroi asks her to hurry via a frantic yell of her name. The girl sighs and slowly moves into the direct line of sight of everyone.

"Have any of you seen a thin blue notebook anywhere? I can't find my music no– OH MY GOD, ONEE-CHAN!!! YOUR STUPID AS HECK BOYFRIEND DID NOT JUST MAKE PAPER PLANES OUT OF MY NOTES, DID HE!?!?"

———

DAY 2; 19:55

"Satoru is not really bad, y'know?"

Your comment arrives few hours and many adventures later – though Riko wonders how much of an adventure they were for you or the two upperclassmen of yours, given the way you three were kicking ass for the entirety of the time, both before and after Kuroi was captured.

Lips curving into a teasing smile – one which the woman, taking care of her since the latter's childhood, shares – the teenager returns her attention to you.

You blink back, a tiny smile playing with the corner of your lips before it widens, digging into your cheeks and crinkling your eyes.

"What?" you ask with a giggle, "Is there something on my face? Or is suggesting my boyfriend to be kind of good really that outlandish of a concept?"

"Hmm, do you want the nice answer or the honest answer?" Riko asks back, plopping a spoonful of the ice cream you bought, then breaking into a shiver as her brain freezes from how insanely cold it is. Neither you nor Kuroi bothering to hide your chuckles, you hum. "I'm not sure which I will find honest and which, nice; why don't you shoot both my way, Riko-chan?" you suggest then add, mirth gleaming in your voice, "Of course, when you're okay again, only then."

The girl thinks of retorting to you with a silent glare but opts to think better of it. Couple of minutes pass in almost silence, Kuroi and you chit-chatting about Okinawa in general while the three of you amble down the sidewalk lining the inky-black sea, casting eerie shadows in the sparse lights dotting the streets — when she decides to reply to your suggestion from before.

"I don't really think Gojo-san is a bad person," She says, stopping and offering you a smile over her shoulder. You too stop and accept it with a bright smile of your own.

Riko continues, "I mean, yeah, he's very, very annoying all the time – making fun of me and calling me a kid or brat – but if you chose him to be your boyfriend, I guess he's kind of fine. Maybe. Plus, you don't really seem to have a bad taste," she adds with an appreciative once-over at the sundress you're wearing.

You crack an amused grin. Riko turns to her caretaker. "C'mon, Kuroi. Tell onee-chan. She has a pretty nice taste in outfits, doesn't she?"

"Yeah, you do," the other woman is quick to agree with a kind grin, "I suppose Riko-sama is correct in saying this; although, Riko-sama..." trailing off, Kuroi smiles at the addressed girl the way she used to in her childhood, whenever the latter used to babble the stuff children always do, and gently rebukes.

"Having a good taste in outfits is not the best indicator of someone's taste in men. You must never view a person from an angle as shallow as that."

"Kuroi-san is right, Riko-chan," you pitch in your two cents an instant later, then cast the woman beside you a sly glance, "Though I wonder if that was an indirect criticism of 'Toru... I hope it wasn't – was it?"

"No, of course not," Kuroi denies with a small laugh. Riko watches you crack a freer smile at her words, which slowly softens when you move your gaze back to her. The ice cream in her hand seems four seconds away from melting; still the girl decides to ignore it in favour of giving you her undivided attention.

(Ever since she met you three, you've always struck the young girl as someone a bit... different.

From the way you train your focus on your opponents during a fight; to the way you speak, neither too loud nor too quiet, just the perfect loudness and pitch required to snatch everyone's attention and keep them for yourself; to the way you carry yourself, neither as pompous arrogant akin Gojo nor as discreet smug as Geto, but as a girl who is aware of her worth and won't hesitate to show another their place, if the need so arises.

Riko thinks if she lived a little longer, she might have wanted to make you her role model. Not that it matters now, though.)

Your musing voice break through her thoughts.

"Satoru was the one who suggested this trip," you say, sharing a half-smile with Kuroi, "The best option would have been to take you back to the school as soon as possible, where you and Kuroi-san would be safe and sound. Plus, our mission too would have been complete. An extra feather to our cap, given we delivered the Star Plasma Vessel to Tengen-sama and secured the foundations the entire Japan is based on. Yet he argu–"

You abruptly fall silent, the loving look on your face withering to one of helplessness and profound sadness when the ticking hands of the wrist watch you wear catches your eye; and you shove your emotions beneath a forced chuckle.

"Oh no, it's almost eight," you say, a faux buoyancy to your words, "Do you wanna go back to the hotel and have dinner there, Riko? Or some place outside, maybe? Our schedule's packed tomorrow – our littlest Riko-chan needs some good sleep tonight to not be fussy tomorrow, doesn't she?"

Glancing at Kuroi, only to find her with the same tense cheerfulness, Riko stifles a sigh and parts her lips into a mirthful beam she doesn't feel at all.

"I really wanna try the soki soba and the yashigani. Do you know any good restaurants nearby?"

You nod exaggeratedly, lips thinning into a solemn line though the faint ray of fun can still be made through the grey clouds cast over your irises. "Don't you worry, Riko sama. Your two faithful servants will certainly find a place to dine to your liking. You just keep being the cute little princess that you are."

The girl opens her mouth to snap back at being called a little girl yet again – you aren't very different from your boyfriend, after all – then shuts it, then opens it again, a teasing giggle wanting to bubble out.

"Y'know, onee-chan," she says, skipping over to you and smiling in an innocent fashion, "I answered your second question, but I never gave a reply to the first one – you wanna know it?"

You take a second before shrugging. "Um, yeah, why not?"

Throwing a mischievous glance to Kuroi, who hides her mouth with a palm and looks away, shoulders shaking a little, Riko returns her eyes to your expectant smile. And beckoning you to come near, whispers.

"There isn't anything on your face. But the foundation's on your neck and shoulders is kind of off, I guess. Were you bitten by a bug, onee–"

An obnoxiously cheery ringtone cuts the girl off. Your face burning a deep hue of coyness, she watches you pluck your phone out of your bag, then walk a few steps away, voice dropping to a hushed murmur – which takes a minute before growing shrill then silent. Your cheeks and ears sport the deepest shade of red Riko's ever seen.

Asking them for a little more time, grin so sheepish and flustered, you whirl on your heels and walk a couple of feet away, your hand fiddling with the Okinawa keychain your boyfriend bought you today at noon.

Lips quirking in a fond smile, Riko looks away from your shy giggling figure to the chuckling Kuroi, to the big ocean waves crashing on the sands below.

Yeah, it might've been good to have a chance at a bit longer life.

———

DAY 3; 15:08

This is not good.

Oh heavens no. This is so not good.

Tears springing forth and streaming down her cheeks, Riko moves to take a step towards you. Then, stills when you put up a bloodied hand asking her to stop. Face scrunched into a smile which, the little vessel knows, conveys nothing of the agony tearing at your insides; you cast a glance at the gaping hole in your palm, then drift your gaze back to her.

Something acidic and pungent surges to the girl's mouth — though not at you, never at you – but at herself, the sole reason why you're clutching your profusely bleeding wound, left by the bullet originally meant for her; why Geto stands shocked and numb, with a hundred curses looming round the room, ready to attack at the slightest hint of an order; why Gojo's probably lying near the torii gates, dead and swarmed by cursed maggots – if what she heard less than a minute back, isn't a lie, that is.

Judging from the sharp gasp of air you drew in then — it isn't, Riko thinks.

Your smile stays as pathetically serene as ever; the only traitor now being those rivulets of grief carving their courses on your face. You part your lips in a heart-wrenching plea.

"Run, Riko-chan. Run to a place far from here. Somewhere none can find you. And don't ever come back. Please."

Shaking her head a 'No!' as fiercely as she can, the girl bites back her sobs. A cold hand pulls her by the shoulder towards the entrance; she keeps her feet firmly planted to the ground.

Everything was going so, so well– why then did this abominable man have to appear out of nowhere and upend everything in her life? Only when she realized she did not want to be the sacrifice for the sake of everyone else, and that, she too could afford an ounce of selfishness — why then did this man have to appear and extinguish that singular flame of hope lit in her world? Why, why, why—

A harsh bark of a laughter barges into her thoughts.

Your eyes develop a pinch of panic as they travel from the man you froze in the entrance to them, then back to him. The victim of your cursed technique sneers.

"You're that girl with the psychic powers, aren't ya? Thought you can only use your power to kill a person; since when can you freeze them like a statue, eh— can see, hear and feel everything, but can't move a single muscle, except to speak, huh? Or, no, wait–" A second raucous laugh rings through the halls and corridors; you clench your wounded hand into a fist so tight, she thinks she too can feel the pain weighing on your senses right now.

The assassin jeers, "You must be so, so tired to not be able to kill this poor cursed energy-less bastard, hm? And on top of all that, you also must not have refined the technique enough to shut me up, yeah?" A vein throbs in your temple; the man speaks, more gleeful than ever.

"And given how I'm slowly losing the numbness in my arms and legs... your technique is so fucking weak, girl. And the jujutsu society called you their messiah, eh? Fucking fools, the whole lot. Their six eyes in a pool of his blood outside while their other trump card's soon to meet a similar miserable end at this monkey's hands. How funny, ain't it?"

Giving no semblance of a reply to him, you turn your eyes back to her – no, to Geto who's standing behind her – and urge him, so desperate and desolate, every breath you take a short jerky heave of your chest, "Take Riko somewhere safe, senpai. And don't return till you've gotten help. Now, go. Quick."

Craning her neck upwards, the teenager catches a glimpse of the boy grasping her shoulder firmly — hoping he'll refuse to listen to you and stay right there, fighting the monster right beside you — but finds no fragment of dissent on his face.

Extreme reluctance? Yes.

Profound melancholy? Yes.

Stifling resignation? Yes, yes, yes.

But dissent? No.

It makes an appearance, now and then, but never persists for long.

She makes yet another attempt to get closer to you.

"Onee-chan, no," Riko begs, snarling and thrashing from under Geto's unyielding hold on her arm now, "please don't do this. I wanna live my life to the fullest, but I cannot if I don't have y'all beside me. So, you–"

"Riko-chan, no–"

"–ask me to go away like an escapist coward–"

"Riko-chan, listen–"

"–staying right over here, next to–"

"RIKO!"

The harsh call of her name makes the girl stumble and stutter. It isn't you who called her so; it's Geto, peering down at her with moisture in his eyes. An ugly sob crawls out her throat. He mumbles, "You're way too young to understand all this, but know that, if you're out there in the world– safe, free and happy– the Star Plasma Vessel mission can be marked successful only then. Whatever sacrifices all of us made or are going to make today," a glance at you shows the bittersweet smile you're wearing; Riko's wails worsen, "they won't make any sense if, at the end of the day, you're harmed. So, please listen to us and escape with Kuroi-san, yeah?"

The man to her not-so-distant left flexes his fingers a bit. The three of you look at him before looking at one another. You look a few minutes away from passing out, skin paling and breaths growing labored with every second that elapses.

Eyes screwn shut, Riko lets go of the fight she was harbouring in her body. Geto's voice breaks with unshed moisture. "Try not to die, kid. I already lost a best friend today, don't wanna lose a sister too."

Riko doesn't need to open her eyes to know your reaction; the heart-rending sob paired with the "No promises, aniki," you let out tells her enough – before your cursed energy expands yet again, and a chilled palm pulls her by the hand into a swift run, the hit of her shoes on the floor echoing in the stuffy underground air.

Air which soon switches from the suffocation of ancience to that of blood and death — the teenager takes but a moment to realize who the person is. Biting down harshly on her lower lip, she swallows the raw anguish tearing her sinews apart, and keeps her eyes shut firm.

Willing the darkness reigning behind her eyelids to overtake every part of her body – especially her mind, being hurtled one memory after another, and another – Kuroi making her lunch for school; Kuroi teaching her to tie her braids; Kuroi congratulating for every success of hers and supporting her after every failure, be it big or small; Kuroi being the family she once thought she had lost in a car crash–

The sharp ding of the lift and the crackling warmth of the sun on her tear-stained cheeks are the last two things Riko registers, before the world round her fades away into a noiseless black — finally.

———

DAY 4718; 16:02

"Anableps can see both above and below the water at the same time, y'know?"

The statement and the awed "Woo!" that follows it rouses Riko from the siesta she was teetering on the brink of. She yawns and rubs her eyes. Then yawns again, a bit more subdued this time, considering a family walks past her.

Uni's been very stressful of late, and to top it all off, the woman who's supposed to handle this shift has called in sick – so, as fucking same as before, the manager is gonna call in some newbie to work instead.

The newbie being none other than Riko – very unfortunately – on a tiring Friday afternoon as today.

At least, the job pays well and she gets to spend time explaining fish and their world to excited kids, plus the occasional one or two adults who look a touch different from their usual bored indifference.

But, of course, there's always a group of friends who come bounding in.

Worse than a class of kindergarten children fighting for the single toy of a dinosaur their teacher has brought — Riko avoids such crowds of like the plague. Storming past them, turning down their query, asking a coworker to fill in for her – the young grad student applies all tricks and methods known to her to escape the situation.

To escape the familiar buzz of cheer and enthusiasm.

To escape the familiar weight of nostalgia and gloom.

To escape the—

"Um, miss, where can we find the whale sharks' tank? Heard it's the main attraction here... And, uh, we're also a little lost, actually."

Trains of thought thrown off-track, the young woman squeezes her eyes shut, then opens them again, a customer service smile flitting onto her lips as she turns back. And holds back a very exasperated groan. Why the fuck did Mio had to leave for a snacks break now of the innumerable times she could have gone before? And why does this crowd have to be the very thing she hates dealing with? Ugh... Never mind–

"Just turn to your left, go down the corridor, then to your right. You'll find the whale sharks there."

The pink-haired boy accepts the reply with a nod and a bright thanks, before the black-haired boy places a hand on his shoulder and he falls quiet. The latter looks strangely familiar, Riko thinks... ignoring it, she shoots the boys a quizzical smile. "Is there anything else you would to like to ask or—"

"You're my mom's friend. I've seen your pictures at home," he cuts her off, brows furrowing. His friend looks at him, so perplexed, not much unlike how Riko's feeling. He pays no mind, continuing, "You attended a Catholic school, love music and aquatic life, and have an obsession with coconut crab meat and soba, don't you?"

"Megumi..." A slightly older girl standing behind them with two girls donning identical t-shirts, begins in a lightly chastising tone, but the tour guide feels she's miles away from them. Catholic school, music lessons, aquariums, soki soba, yashigani, Okinawa... it simply cannot be you—

"Tsumiki! Mimiko!" A voice, Riko once was under the impression she'll never be hearing again, except in nightmares, rings through the near-empty hall of the aquarium, soon followed by the appearing of a face she thought she'll never see again, except in the sole photograph left with her on the phone Geto gave her, besides 5000 円 and contacts he asked her to get in touch with, as soon as possible, that evening a good twelve years ago in Osaka.

You reach a stop before the group, a young brown-haired girl trailing you with a worried scowl on her face. Dumbstruck, Riko watches you sigh and pinch the bridge of your nose.

"I can understand Nana-chan's phone is busy being used in clicking photos but the same excuse cannot be extended to you, can it? No. So, why on earth can't any of you four pick your mobile up when I'm calling you, hm? Or please don't tell me the batteries are dead. Again."

The blonde girl, presumably Nana-chan, smiles smugly while three out of the addressed four kids shoot a sheepish smile your way. Your frown slowly gives way to a fond grin and you huff a chuckle, shaking your head – which only grows in intensity when the girl following you lets out an annoyed hmph! and launches into a tirade how extremely worried the two of you were and how much dumb and careless them five are.

Eyes welling over with emotions percolated over the course of many, many years, Riko watches you grin so freely — only for it to still and fade when the spiky-haired boy says he has met your friend from the photograph, and you look from him to her standing inconspicuously, half-hidden in the shadows.

A painfully slow second passes.

The entire gaggle of kids falls quiet at the disbelieving watery chuckle you let out. Taking two steps forwards, she offers you a mirror image of your expression.

"Told you the aquarium's fun, didn't I?"

A call of your name bounces off the grey walls in a saccharine tone: Riko knows instinctively, can be no one's except one blue-eyed and white-haired bastard's. You cast a glance at the tall man rushing to you, then return your gaze to her, with the same radiant beam you gave on that day twelve years back, when Riko first expressed her real thoughts out in the air.

The young woman wastes no moment before running to you and engulfing you in the tightest hug she can possibly manage, tears rushing down her face. Your gentle voice shushes her, the way an elder sister would do to a younger sister.

Riko's lips stretch in the widest and freest grin she has felt in forever.

Joyful and thankful her onee-chan is finally back in her life, giving the added length it received some much-needed hues — 'cause a longer life is obviously good but it's the best when your life is long and spent with your near and dear ones.

▸ notes: The reader was in the process of developing and perfecting a new CT, hence her CE was so unstable – spiking and ebbing – besides the fact it drained her energy like hell. Toji was a smart man, he figured it out pretty quickly and easily. [And for the ppl who're wondering how the reader was able to stop the attack on Riko: she used a tendril of thoughts emanating from a person's mind to detect their presence, instead of their cursed energy remains.] [She can't read those thoughts, though.]

▸ masterlist

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wnobin · 8 months

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BIT BY BIT… 💭 anton lee socmed! au

pairing: college student! anton x campus crush! reader

genre: college! au, social media! au with written portions, slow burn, pining, strangers to friends to lovers.

series synopsis: in which the quiet girl in anton’s language class who seems to never sit with anyone catches his attention. anton makes it his mission to get closer to her bit by bit and break down her walls. the only issue? she’s the last to arrive and first to leave, never allowing anton the chance to approach her.

series masterlist | 09: eunseok’s toothbrush

chaewon was currently dragging you by your ear, your whines echoing in the empty corridors as eunchae rubbed her eyes, still tired from the events of last night. events, which consisted of the two of you finishing a whole container of melatonin gummies while watching monsters inc. “it’s literally 1pm and practice starts at 12! it’s your first time meeting the team and you’re gonna start off with a bad impression?”

“i already know eunseok, sungchan and shotaro so it’s not exactly my first time, is it?” you held your ear that was stinging with pain when chaewon finally let go of it, who was now choosing to now drag you and eunchae by your hands into the gymnasium. the three of you were met by the sight of the team members resting by the bleachers and downing their waters, but what caught your eye was your brother and his roommate wrestling on the ground while someone else was videoing it. “what was that about us leaving a bad impression on… them?”

“oh god, not again. y/n, can you grab your brother, i’ll get the other one.”

“how long have you been using my toothbrush?!”

“too long to remember!”

holding in your laughter, you grabbed eunseok by his shoulders and mustered all the strength you had to pry him away from sungchan, who was being held back by chaewon telling shotaro to put his phone down and help her.

“were you losing? seriously, eunseok?”

anton wasn’t paying attention to the fight that was happening in front of him, used to the sight of the two roommates bickering and eventually making up after ten minutes. until he heard a familiar voice, a voice he only ever heard during japanese 101. his head immediately snapped up, eyes no longer glued to his phone screen and instead watching a whining eunseok push your hands away while you laughed. “c’mon y/n, he was using my toothbrush! for god knows how long! let me beat him up!”

seunghan lifted his head at the same time, recognising your voice and elbowing anton’s side excitedly. the younger male simply watched the sight in silence, mouth hanging open slightly in shock.

oh my god. what are you doing here? are you dating eunseok? how do you know eunseok? you’re the new team manager and the captain’s girlfriend? oh god.

a million thoughts raced through anton’s mind, blocking out the sound of chaewon scolding the two roommates for fighting each other and also shotaro for filming and not stopping it. all he could focus on was how wide you were smiling, smiling at eunseok and sungchan.

“anton? hello, earth to anton?” sohee waved his hands in front of anton’s face, bringing him back to reality, the rest of his team going over to chaewon who was about to introduce the new team managers. as much as he wanted to crawl into a hole and die, anton had to act like everything was fine and took a deep breath before joining the rest of his friends.

“as i told you guys, you’ll be getting not one, but two team managers that’ll help you guys out after i graduate. this is eunchae, a first year majoring in early childhood education,” the shorter girl gave a lazy wave to the team, anton recognised her from some of his classes, but they had never interacted before. he turned to look at sohee who had excitedly greeted her, raising an eyebrow to which sohee simply mouthed the word ‘spanish’. “and this one over here is y/n, a first year majoring in nursing so she’ll be the one taking care of you guys when you get injured.”

“she’s also our captain’s little sister, so do be nice to her!”

eunseok’s little sister? anton couldn’t believe what he was hearing, but it didn’t sound all that unbelievable. you and eunseok were both rather tall, and the more he looked at you, he could see the resemblance between you two. same eyebrows and same nose.

you waved at the team but you were looking in anton’s direction, your eyes on him. at this point, his mind had gone blank and he was just absentmindedly waving back at you with the most dazed look on his face. “do you know anton?” eunseok asked, noticing the way you only looked at the youngest in the team. “yeah, we’re in the same japanese class.”

“japanese class? doesn’t anton have a cr—“

before sungchan could finish his sentence, wonbin clasped a hand over his mouth and dragged him away from the conversation, saying they had to go to the bathroom, before he revealed anton’s secret. seunghan who was trying to hold in his snickers eventually couldn’t hold it back anymore, erupting in laughter alongside sohee who was losing it too. everyone else seemed equally as confused as to why sungchan was dragged away mid-sentence and why seunghan and sohee were close to tears while anton looked like his soul just left his body.

he wasn’t sure if he should be thankful or not that you were his sister, and not his girlfriend. but one thing that he was thankful for was the fact that both you and your brother were just as oblivious as each other.

taglist (closed due to the limit!): @andromedawillburyyou @imsiriuslyreal @beckiiee00 @dreamiestay @babigriin @kyusqult @eumppappaswife @sserafilms @annswwa @lecheugo @llearlert @nyuoqi @thesunoosshining @yangasm @mmsriza @myizhuos @miyawakiblossoms @hyucksdelicate @ilovejungwonandhaechan @snowyseungs @soobiary @ilovejaketoomuch @cla1r20 @darlingz99 @chiiyuuvv @lilacarat @ohmykwonsoonyoung @sonjuyeonnie @nicholasluvbot @haechology @luvnicho @numberonetaleprince @addores @revehosh @jscvhs @istphanie @b-riize @miszes @shnnzsworld @ppoddorii @cowsmicwu @kiwigyuu @chuutaroo @dcvvr @delulu4soobs @l0ve-joy @ffixtionista @would-bee @renjuneoo

if i didn’t tag you, please check your account settings > visibility!

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roronoaswifey · 2 years

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𝐄𝐘𝐄𝐒 𝐔𝐏, 𝐌𝐘 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄.

summary. your brilliant boyfriend zoro comes up with an idea when he sees you in nothing but a taunting two piece lingerie set.

pairing. roronoa zoro x f!reader

warnings/tags. mirror sex, penetration, fingering, oral sex (m), zoro calls you slut but affectionately, breath play, unprotected sex, banter, just you both being a cringy couple, bold is japanese, slightly ooc zoro??

wc. 4.3k

kazu’s note. *scratches head* uh- this was longer than i expected… oops

“fucking finally,” were the first words your boyfriend spoke after a long night. you chuckled, closing the door behind you and locking it shut.

“it wasn’t that bad,” you stretched your neck, laughing as the boy continued to grumble about his annoyance throughout the entire night. “everyone was having a good time, you’re the only grumpy one.”

“that might’ve been the worst night in my entire twenty-one years of living,” zoro plopped lazily on the bed, back flat with his chest facing the ceiling. he huffed childishly, limbs stretched at each extremity of the bed. “and that’s including the sabaody and thriller bark incidents.”

“all because we ran out of sake?” you couldn’t help the laugh you let out. he was being incredibly childish, so childish that you found it endearing.

“‘s not funny,” he mumbled, crossing his arms beneath his head as support. you shook your head unimpressed, and as if he could sense it, “it was the good kind too!”

“you have nobody else but yourself to blame for your ineptitude to enjoy yourself sober,” you teased, removing your diamond earrings and placing them on the dresser.

“tch, i don’t expect you to understand.” he retorted, although it lacked fire. you hummed in faux acknowledgment, moving towards the body length mirror to help yourself out.

you looked back at your reflection. a silk black dress that stopped mid thigh and was dangerously close to revealing a cheek. the dress hugged your body perfectly, every crevice and curve accentuated. it snug your frame just right, almost teasingly, and you couldn’t help the way your fingertips roamed over your body.

whenever you cleaned up, you cleaned up damn well. your eyes narrowed at the sight of yourself more.

“what a self-conceited woman,” your boyfriend joked from where he laid. you snapped out of your trance, finding his teasing gaze from the reflection of the mirror.

you returned the smirk back, “when you look this good, it’s hard not to be,” shifting your body, your hips moved so your backside could now be seen through the mirror. you eyed your ass in the tight material, satisfied at the stretch of the silk over your curve.

“my pretty girl.” zoro agreed, letting his eye rest once more. a smile fell on your glossed lips, a warmth spreading through your chest at his compliment. my pretty girl. for a man as non-verbal as zoro, you would take that compliment and never let it die.

the more you looked at yourself, you noticed the steel gray zipper stitched in the material. it brought you back to your senses, remembering you’d now have to switch into more comfortable clothing to sleep.

although you wish you had more moments to appreciate the dress, you felt yourself slowly growing tired. you stretched your arm behind your back, fingers attempting to find the zipper. when you managed to get ahold of the lever, you felt your arm struggle to pull it downwards.

you frowned, trying once, twice and another time. the muscles in your bicep began to burn from the movements, and so you let your arm fall down.

“hey baby,” you called out to your lover, eyeing him through the reflection of the mirror. you saw him open his singular eye, a lazy hum vibrating from this throat, “c’mere and help me with my zipper?”

“can’t do anything without my help, needy woman” he sighed, though lifting himself from the bed. he stretched his limbs with a groan, before walking over towards you.

you felt his presence behind you, and so you playfully rolled your eyes, assuring he could see you through the reflection. “‘m just so helpless without my incredibly strong and reliable boyfriend,” you fed on his ego, slapping his thigh encouragingly.

“i mean i am incredibly strong and reliable.”

“that you are, my love.”

“‘m also very skilled and observant. would never let you get hurt.”

“ah, whatever would i do without you?”

through the mirror, your boyfriend gave you one of his rare smiles— the one that exposed his adorable left dimple, pearly whites flashing, cheeks stretching wide. you cherished whenever the man would smile like this, since it only ever came every once in a blue moon.

you granted him a smirk, slapping his thigh once more, “now get on with it, my knight in shining armour.”

he placed a gentle kiss at the crevice of your neck, before putting his hands to work. you watched as he moved your hair out the way, dragging the zipper down slowly. his tongue poking at the inside of his cheek, and you ignored the heat in your stomach bubbling.

once the zipper landed right at your lower back, the dress dropped and pooled at your ankles swiftly, revealing your skimpy undergarments.

you blinked, momentarily forgetting you paired the silk dress with your black lace bra and matching thong. your boyfriend, on the other hand, blinked as his eye roamed from your back muscles, and moved down to the tattoo that sat right above your ass, before lowering his gaze down to cheeks.

you watched him amusingly, loving the way he was mesmerized by the set you wore. ironically, when you had purchased the set and offered to give a haul, he let you know he was nowhere near interested in what you and the witch bought.

when you brought your thoughts to words, he chuckled in disbelief, rough hands grazing down your warm skin, resting at your waist, “guess i’m a dumbass then,”

“you guess?” you joked, and when he raised his head to give you a flat look, you giggled in retaliation. his eye moved back to your backside, practically drooling over your flesh.

turning around, his sight was now replaced from your ass to your breast. “c’mon zee, you gonna keep looking or put your incredibly strong and very skilled hands to use?” you pressed your chest against him, draping your arms over his broad shoulders, offering an innocent smile.

he returned a smile, though far more mischievous than the previous one. his hands found their way around your middle, tugging you incredibly closer to him. his nose teasingly brushed yours, lips inches dangerously away from your own.

“gotta help my damsel in distress,” he mumbled with a feral grin, barely giving you a breath before locking lips with yours.

the kiss was slow and sensual. your boyfriend was taking his time, savouring your taste if the tilt of his head revealed anything. you hummed in appreciation, fingers moving to play with his short fringes, scraping his scalp gently.

and before you knew it, his tongue eagerly slipped into your glossy lips, slipping into your cavern and explored every inch of the warmth. his hands lowered and grabbed onto your mouldy flesh, feeling his rough callouses contrasting your soft skin.

you moaned softly into his mouth, enjoying the rub of your ass, simultaneously enjoying the way your front would rub teasingly against his. his hard-on was impossible to ignore, poking into your groin so naughtily, and surely enough you felt your panties dampen with your slick.

zoro pulled away just slightly, panting against your swollen lips, the feral grin returning on his mouth, “got a brilliant idea just now.”

you cocked an eyebrow, a smile following your words, “care to share?”

“you’ll see,” zoro gave you a light spank, feeling the delicious recoil beneath his palm, his smirk growing dangerously wider. “turn around for me, princess,”

you complied to his order, turned around and found yourself staring at your own reflection once again. it was only when you eyed your swollen lips and the devious stare behind you that you put the pieces together.

“got an idea yet?” zoro pressed his bulge into your ass, arms wrapping around around stomach. when you giggled, he smiled approvingly, resting his nose in between your shoulder and neck, taking an inhale of your intoxicating scent.

“‘m gonna blow your mind away,” his warm lips left trails of wet kisses along your neck. from beneath your ear, to the back of your neck, his kisses would grow harsher, teeth dragging your skin with intent to leave marks.

“blow me away then,” you sighed, throwing a hand back to find his hair. feeling tingles of pleasure where his lips would leave bites, heats of fire licked at your spine as his explored your upper body, eventually resting at your breast.

he took a greedy squeeze and you moaned before you could help it, the cold metal pierced through your nubs being tugged at. his hands slipped through your bra, fingers finding your nipples with practiced ease as he fondled the erect peak, while simultaneously massaging the tender flesh.

the breast play drove your mind to mush quicker than you anticipated, “hurry up, take it off already!”

zoro tsked, plunging his teeth particularly deeper into your neck, the sting making your legs buckle, “we’re keeping the set on. think of it as a makeup haul,”

“still your fault,” you grumbled childishly, and when he pinched your nipple and anticipated your squeal, he delivered a soft kiss at your jaw.

“m tryna make up for it, aren’t i?” he dropped a hand from your chest, fingertips trailing downwards. his hands stopped at your waistband, slipping his index past the elastic as he circled around your waist teasingly.

“we’re gonna play a little game, yeah?” he mumbled right within earshot, the words sending shivers through your body. in the pause between his words and your nod, he lowered his hand in your panties, pushing the flimsy string aside and used his thumb to graze just over your clit.

you stiffened at the discreet move, body yearning for more. he was being a teasing little shit, and as much as you wanted to call him out on it, you didn’t want to risk him leaving you in this state. you bit your tongue.

“simple rule; keep your eyes on yourself at all times. got it?” as if to demonstrate, his free hand grabbed at your jaw, tilting your chin so you’d be forced to stare at yourself.

you huffed in slight embarrassment. you looked a mess— in the process of it all, your hair had gotten messed up, neck littered in nasty love bites, lips swollen and gloss smothered around your mouth. of course he wanted to do this, the bastard.

“what’s wrong?” zoro hummed, though his taunting smirked showed anything but concerns. “thought it was hard to not keep your eyes off of yourself when you looked this good?”

“fuck off,” you rolled your eyes, and when the hand in your thong threatened to leave, your hand quickly gripped it and kept it in place. “fine, god you’re annoying,”

“what ever happened to my gentle damsel in distress?” he chuckled, thumb now rolling your clit around. at the touch you threw your head back, stomach churning at the pleasure. you could see from your peripheral zoro’s pointed gaze, before yanking your head back down, the grip on your jaw tightening.

“thought i told you to keep your eyes on yourself at all times?” he growled, teeth nipping at your earlobe. you whimpered, the hand on his gripping his wrist harder.

“hurry it up then!— please,” you pleaded, slowly losing your composure. behind you, zoro dragged his lips lower down your neck.

“only ‘cause you asked so nicely,” he cooed, wasting no time to plunge two fingers knuckle deep in your pussy.

the moan you let out was pornographic, the stretch of his thick digits burning so deliciously. his pace was slow but steady— experimentally fingering you, scissoring your walls with ease. your slick made the job easier, and only when it dribbled down your thigh had you noticed how horny you were.

“look at what i get to see regularly,” his hand guided you back to the mirror you’d subconsciously been inching away from. “wouldn’t it have been greedy to keep this all to myself?”

you were too out of focus to reply. you’d never seen yourself during sex before. and as embarrassing as it was, it also turned you on immensely. your buckling legs, the way zoro’s fingers would disappear into your cunt and come back out glossier than previously. your eyes moved up to your face, jaw dropped as you moaned and moaned like there was no tomorrow. drool collected at the corner of your mouth, eyes lidded as pleasure slowly consumed you entirely.

“my pretty little slut,” zoro leaned forward, cheek now in contact with yours, slipping in a third finger into your looser cunt. you whined are the addition, arms stretching forward to hold onto mirror for support. “see how good you look?”

he mumbled in your ear, soaking in the way you crumbled at his fingers alone. his cock twitched at the mere thought of seeing you see yourself fall apart on his dick. growing impatient, he growled, quickening his pace.

“zoro— oh fuck, right there!” you babbled, eyes rolling at back of your head when you felt his ruthlessly thrust at your sweet spot. the familiar yet different coil in your gut built, threatening to release at the pounding.

“eyes, my love.” he growled beastly, and you whined in annoyance, though forcing your gaze back into yourself. it was getting harder with the nips at your sensitive neck and your cunt sucking in and out his fingers.

“you’re squeezing me so tight,” at the words you clenched impossibly harder, focusing on chasing your release as quick as possible. “gonna cum for me, baby?”

“yes, oh yes! please let me cum!” you begged, legs stuttering as you barely held yourself together. if possible, his pace quicken and the thrusts grew sharper, his bicep flexing in the process.

“anything for my damsel,” a tough bite at your jugular and the multitasking of your clit and sweet spot being stimulated had you squirting hard.

the coil snapped and you moaned loudly, hardly considering the possibility of your crewmates hearing you. you melted as the liquid sprayed down your legs and onto the mirror. you watched yourself breakdown, drool now escaping your mouth and body quivering at the overstimulation.

“thought you said you were cumming baby?” zoro teased, removing his fingers from your panties and bringing them to your mouth.

still hazy, you eagerly accepted the wet digits into your mouth, moaning around his fingers at your taste. zoro watched with animistic intensity at the sight, his dick twitching vigorously.

“good job love, you did so well,” he brought his own fingers to his mouth, now savouring your saliva coating his fingers and the faint taste of your pussy.

“now,” he popped his hand away, placing them on your hips and turning you around. you raised an eyebrow in confusion, and so he explained himself. “mini pause on the game, i need some help. you willing to help me out?”

“do i even have a choice?” you snorted weakly, and when his hand cupped your jaw, index finger lifting your gaze to meet his, your eyes widened in surprise.

“‘course you do. ‘m not gonna make you do anything you don’t wanna do.” he pointed, sternly.

you heart swelled at his statement. you rolled your eyes playfully, swatting his hand away gently, “i know that, idiot, now lemme help you out,” you lowered down, opting to squat instead of kneeling.

when you looked back up, your boyfriend stared you down in an amused shock, “well that’s new,”

you shrugged, not wanting to admit you wanted to give him a good view through the mirror. you only hoped the intense workout sessions with him would pay off here.

“gonna whip out your dick now?” you asked, hands moving up to his zipper, only to have him stop your movements. you looked back up, ready to retort when it died down on your tongue at his teasing grin.

“no hands. can you take it?” he asked, bringing his free hand to your hair, pushing it out of your face.

your face twisted in annoyance at the nerve he had, competitiveness slowly bubbling in your veins. you kissed your teeth, hands flying to grip his thighs to accept his request.

“‘course i can, you’re talking to me here.”

“ah, whatever would i do without you?” he ruffled your head affectionately, loving the way your lips fell into an unintentional pout. “now, get on with it,”

you rolled your eyes at him using your own words against you, but decided to push past it. for now, you focused on how you were gonna pull his pants down without hands.

you leaned forward, teeth popping off the button of his dark jeans with ease. when you heard an approving grunt, you found yourself wanting to impress him further. and so, you bared your teeth out, finding the piece of steel and dragged it down slowly while keeping eye contact with him.

a smirk pulled at his lips at your dedicated eyes. he knew you’d be able to do it, you were his slut after all.

moving on, you managed to pull his pants down with a rather big bite. you were careful to not tangle his skin in the process, and the second the article of clothing moved past his mid thigh, gravity did its thing and finished the job for you.

you moved up and repeated the same cycle with his briefs, ignoring the way your pussy clenched around nothing at his musk. god, you wanted his dick in your mouth so badly. his briefs now hung at his mid thigh, his throbbing cock now hanging at your face.

“you did it,” he spoke the obvious, and when you gave him a flat look, he chuckled, “don’t give me that face, get on with it.”

you collected all the saliva in your mouth, eyes glued on the pretty brown tip of his cock. it leaked with pre, curving slightly to the left as the bottom of his large shaft was decorated with dark green pubes.

you were gonna reach down there.

and so you leaned forward, with the help of your hands stuck to his thighs, and greeted his tip with a kiss. you heard the man hiss, and so you took him further down, jaw slackening as bobbed down his cock.

you started slowly, dragging your tongue around his dick, the salty taste of his skin leaving a pleasant buzz in your head. though harder to manage, you didn’t back down as you took him even further down.

“there we go,” he grunted, the grip on your hair tightening. he held back the thought of guiding you down, turned on by the idea of you taking him in without his help. “just like that,”

saliva began to escape your mouth, jaw and thighs getting sore, but you knew you had to deal with the pain. you were determined to make him cum, without your hands.

taking a deep breath in, you leaned forward all the way down to his cock, nose meeting the dark green pubes. the smell of his hairs clouded your mind, and the guttural groan your boyfriend released made you leak.

“fuck—“ he cursed under his breath, watching as you went ham on his dick. you weren’t letting up, you moved up and down like your life depended on it, your thumbs rubbing circles on thighs and fingernails digging deep into his flesh.

your eyes caught his and though your mouth was occupied, zoro pictured the smirk you’d give him. he smirked back at you, and you understood as to why.

you went back to working up and down his throbbing cock, before pulling up and sucking harshly at his tip, just like how he likes it.

“god— okay, okay, that’s enough,” he used the grip on your hair and pulled you entirely off of him. you frowned, ready to voice out your annoyance but he cut you off before you could begin.

“needa cum in that pretty pussy of yours,” he lifted you up from your crouching stance. when you now fully stood, you felt the ache in your trembling thighs, “besides, you looked like you were having a hard time there.”

“i know you’re not talking,” you raised a singular eyebrow, amazed by the audacity of this man.

he chuckled, swiftly turning you around, and you were once again greeted with the view of yourself. he kissed your jaw, “game’s back on. remember my love, eyes on yourself.”

before you could roll your eyes, you felt the tip of his cock playfully rubbing at your lips. you bit your lip, holding back a moan threatening to release. the grip he had on your hips would surely leave bruises, but the taunts of his cock slipping in and out of your cunt made it feel worth it.

“put it in already,” you complained, feeling your brain melt at the teasing. you were so close to the feeling and whenever he felt as though you were ready to express your delights, he’d pull back out.

“i’d suggest holding the mirror,” he nodded his head, his tip waiting at your entrance. your arms tumbled towards the mirror, palms nearly slipping at your moistness.

you were finally granted the thrust he gave, you both moaning wantonly as you sucked in his dick greedily. your arms nearly gave out at the burn of his stretch, but you were far too greedy to care about it. you wanted more, and if you took your eyes off of yourself, he’d throw a fit.

“remember,” he growled, barely holding it together himself together. “eyes up or i swear to god i’m pulling out.”

a whine slipped past your lips, “okay, okay, hurry!” you moved your own hips back and forth, deciding to begin without him. he hissed at the feeling of your gummy walls accepting his cock so easily, your lips gripping him so naughtily.

and much to your satisfaction, he held your hips and began to pound you. he pounded into you brutally, so ruthlessly, never letting up. you wanted it? then he’d give it to you.

you cried in pleasure, watching your body jerk forward as you matched his thrusts, head bobbing without control as your breasts jiggled in sync. whenever he’d sink into you, he repeatedly attacked your cervix, his cock dragging at your walls and stretching you impossibly further.

you fingers curled and your knees buckled, though your eyes stayed glued to the mirror. you watched as his eye met you, an animalistic smirk stretched on his lips, watching with pride as he ruined you. he then lowered his gaze to your ass, the recoil of each bounce made him pound deeper, addicted to the movements.

“fuck, yes, oh zee, ‘s so good!” you bit your lip in attempt to muffle your moans, but the fingers that wrapped around your throat cut your breathing circulation briefly. you inhaled sharply, the lack of air fucking with your thoughts.

“god, look at you,” he growled, leaning forward and hitting a whole new spot. your vision began to fill with stars, the penetration hitting even further and nearly had you spasming in bliss.

“love having my hand around your neck, huh?” his grip tightened and god, how badly you wanted to cum. “want me to breed you and make you mine forever, ain’t that right?”

“yesyesyes!” you babbled, bringing your own hand to hold the one on your neck. zoro smirked impressively, lifting your body so you were now pressed against another. you felt his sweaty chest behind your back, and when his hand slipped forward to toy with your clit, you lost it.

you tilted your head back, lips inches away from his panting ones, “i’m cummin’! fuck, oh fuck— please let me cum, please!” your free hand moving back to grab ahold of his bulging bicep.

zoro’s lips twitched in anticipation, leaning forward to mumble the words on your plump lips, “‘m right behind you baby, cum for me,”

capturing your mouth with his before you could wake up the whole ship, you cummed and hard. you screamed in his mouth, tongue muffling your sounds as he milked out everything you had to offer.

zoro followed you shortly, groaning in your mouth, hips stuttering as he emptied his milky load into you. he rode out his orgasm, briefly forgetting you were now on the verge of overstimulation, focused on bringing you both down from your highs. your broken sobs indicated you were feeling as good as he was, sunken deep into your cunt as he painted your walls white.

eventually, he slowed his thrusts down, your whines music to his ears. when his thrusting stopped, he released the grip on your neck, his hand now moving to your stomach and resting around your waist.

though out of breath and nearly on the verge of passing out, you kissed your boyfriend as passionately as he kissed you back. his fingers, once gripping you tight, now rubbed shapes onto your skin soothingly. his touch left sparks of warmth all over your body, even after your promiscuous actions.

you pulled back, resting your head on his shoulder, panting heavily. you watched the view before you, and you had to admit it was rather charming to see zoro post orgasm. the way he eyed you with love made your chest flutter with butterflies.

“brilliant idea, by the way,” you spoke first, chuckling at the way his face lit up.

“right? ‘ve had this fantasy for so fucking long, can’t believe it took this long to do it,” he kissed your temple gently. you hummed in agreement. you couldn’t believe all it took was for him to pull your zipper down.

“oh,”

“what?” you looked back at him. his smirk deepened, and he brought his hand to rest at your neck, though with no pressure. you cocked an eyebrow in confusion.

“you lost the game. time for your punishment.”

… idk 😐

#roronoaswifey.exe #kazuha’s works 📂#roronoa zoro #zoro x reader #one piece smut #zoro smut

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heartrender6 · 1 year

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most of the kuwei hate in this fandom is absolutely racially motivated and most of it is probably subconscious but i NEED to talk about this.

and not because i think people r thinking "i hate kuwei!! he's asian and i hate asians!!" tbh most anti asian racism on the internet goes way deeper than that.

basically, what i believe to be the most prominent type of racism against asians, especially on the internet, is stereotyping. specifically "uwu-ification." the east asian entertainment industry likes to paint asian people as cute, submissive and sweet because it markets disturbingly well to american audiences, and whether people mean to or not, they internalize it and it affects the way they think of asian people as a whole. This mostly happens to east and southeast asian women, but definitely a lot with men too, especially in more recent years with the whole yaoi culture thing (i fucking hated typing that) becoming more popular. simply put, it's fetishization.

so how does this relate to kuwei? well, when kuwei is introduced to us, and im not gonna dance around it— he is pretty stereotypically asian. he's shy, innocent, small, good at math/science and— you guessed it— no speaka engrish. leigh bardugo lays the perfect trap for fandom white girl weeaboos to gush over this guy. once i came across a modern au where kuwei's whole northern chinese-mongolian ass is a "shy japanese transfer student." i really wish i was making this up.

but then we find out that kuwei is actually a conniving little shit who is really quite terrible at science and spends all day making shitty drawings of his crush instead of doing math or wtv. The turning point where we are told this is the jesper kiss. This is the point where we find out kuwei is not the yaoi uwu baby we thought he was. and how does fuckin 2/3 of the fandom react?? hate. instant hate. If you search "i hate kuwei" on twitter there are tweets both defending and attacking him, but there is significantly more of the latter.

most of them claim to hate him for kissing jesper but like... jesper kissed him. He doesn't say anything because, in his own words, "we're all probably going to die anyway." does no one see how tragic that is?? he let his first (probably) kiss be taken by someone who he knew didn't even like him because he thought it would be the only one he'd ever get.

and yet the only thing people see is that he "got in the way" of wesper and he's evil. throughout the series kuwei is given no agency, and that's the point of his character. everyone on the planet treats him as a weapon or a bargaining chip. he gets tossed around like a rag doll and to white (or otherwise not asian) audiences, that makes him the perfect picture of a little asian cutie i almost vomited typing that holy shit. but the moments where he takes something for himself— insisting on going to ravka, kissing jesper back— that's what makes people hate him. and don't even get me started on the way people project their hatred onto the other crows, especially wylan. yall will act like wylan loathes kuwei with all his being. he doesn't!! wylan is not a hateful person and he always defends kuwei!! but nooo, kuwei sucks and he deserves it for daring to be a person instead of an idea.

and hey?? guess what?? kuwei was NEVER in the way of wesper. there was no love triangle. narratively speaking, there was never any threat that kuwei would end up with jesper instead of wylan. never ever. the kiss was literally only put there to create drama for wylan and jesper. we never even hear how kuwei feels about it. stop using that as an excuse to hate on kuwei when we can all see it's because you're subconsciously mad at an asian person not being nice.

also disliking kuwei does not automatically make you racist, im just saying a lot of hatred towards kuwei is rooted in racism.

tagging my fellow aapi moots (that i know of) because i wanna hear yalls thoughts on this! @hauntedacousticversiontv @dramaqueentruther

#bishangzoy #shadow and bone #six of crows #kuwei yul bo #wesper #i wanna make it clear that it IS mostly subconscious but that doesn't mean mfs who are guilty of this should be held any less accountable

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aettuddae · 9 months

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hole in one. — 141. it'll be heaven.

⌕ synopsis: at one of the most prestigious universities in the country, where everyone is battling to be the center of attention, yu jimin is just a regular. people want her because of her beauty, but all she cares about is sharing her freaky stuff with her friends and passing her subjects. although there's one thing that might push her out of her comfort zone, revenge. when nakamura kazuha, one of the richest and most well-known students of NCU, starts to spread gossip about her for thousands of followers to see, jimin decides to get back by taking away the thing kazuha cares about the most: her perfect girlfriend, the young golf star, kwon haru.

masterlist | prev

[written chapter]

"guys, i ran out of battery on my phone." reported seungkwan from his seat.

"i told you to charge it before you left." reproached yunjin.

"i got distracted by leveling up in candy crush and forgot." defended the boy.

"how many students are there?" questioned minhyuk with an irritated tone. "i'm hungry."

"me too, i didn't have breakfast." shared juyeon.

"why didn't you have breakfast?" asked ningning.

"i didn't have time." explained the older keeping her eyes on the stage where students continued to pass by to receive their graduation diplomas. "minhyuk was supposed to go wake me up, but the bastard showed up fifteen minutes before we had to leave." she reminisced in frustration.

"at least i remembered to come get you." said the jock.

"no, it's okay, i already know you, i should have predicted it." dismissed.

"excuse me? we're all entitled to one last chance." he lashed out with mock offense.

"you never got anywhere early in your whole life, you're not starting now." replied eunseo.

"i can change..."

"... uchinaga aeri." the voice of an older teacher echoed through the auditorium where the graduation ceremony was taking place, grabbing the attention of the entire group of friends and thus interrupting their conversation.

"up, up!" commanded juyeon.

everyone stood up and began to applaud their friend as she was taking her diploma. haru, minhyuk and juyeon with their phones held high recording the whole process as if they were three proud parents, the last two even shouting some chants of pride and love to the japanese girl, who wanted to die of embarrassment and made countenances at them telling them to shut their mouths. they were genuinely happy for their best friend.

aeri received her certificate, had her picture taken with it and then proceeded to walk off the stage towards her spot again and let the event continue with the next students.

haru was in a good mood that day, of course she was. her best friend was graduating, and in the same class was the girl she loved, who she would finally have in the flesh next to her after agreeing that they were going to be fine. it was a good day.

the golfer followed giselle with her eyes until she was in her chair, and then she tried to locate jimin among her classmates, but it was such a large group that even if she tried to look for them alphabetically, she wasn't being able to find her.

as her eyes wandered around the place in search of her favorite human, she came across someone she hadn't expected to see at all,

nakamura kazuha.

the girl was standing next to an empty seat, presumably hers, at the edge of the small aisle that formed between the student area and the guest's, trying to get a better view of the proceedings.

it had been almost as long since she had last seen kazuha as it had been since she had seen karina before the wedding, so the girl was a particular sighting, to say the least.

kazuha was still living in seoul and playing golf at the rottary club, as usual. the last kwon had heard, she had joined a professional team.

kazuha possibly felt the watchful eye on her, as she turned to look for the reason why she felt observed, finding her ex with a dumbfounded and slightly goofy expression. as they made eye contact, they both gave each other a shy smile and the younger girl raised her hand, waving it and greeting haru.

the sudden feeling of familiarity came over her, and the eldest began to walk past her friends until she could step out of the small place where their seats were and approach the girl.

"hey." greeted her, somewhat hesitantly.

"hey." returned the chestnut with a big smile on her face.

"hey." repeated letting out a nervous giggle, then looking to the side and giving a nod to sakura and eunchae, the japanese girl's mates, who were accompanying her.

"i didn't imagine you'd come over." she shrugged.

"how can i not approach when i haven't seen you in years?" she settled in next to her, both of them with their eyes towards the scenario.

"well, it's not like we were splendidly two years ago." she remarked. "how have you been?" she wondered looking sideways at her.

"bad," kwon went silent, contemplating her answer, eliciting a frown of concern from the girl. "but i'm fine now." she assured her.

"are you sure?" she put her hand on her back to show reassurance. "what happened?"

"don't worry, i'm serious." she nodded her head, reinforcing her words. "i don't know if you know i moved..."

"of course i know, haru." she cut in, her tone carrying a hint of sadness.

"well, it was the moving, the new town," it was obvious she wasn't going to mention the main reason for her pain to her former girlfriend. "i couldn't play golf for a long time." she added, downplaying her words. "you know, it was hard." she concluded. "but i'm fine now, really, how have you been?" she rested her gaze on her, expectant for an answer.

"i've been fine." she assured calmly, removing her touch from haru's body. "i'm on a team, my teammates are good, they are talented. we will prepare to participate in the championship next year." she said defiantly.

"oh, then we'll be rivals." she cocked her head confidently and stretched out her hand for kazuha to shake. "may the best one win."

"you say that because you're the best." she narrowed her eyes, judging her. "and aside from golf..." she folded her arms, thinking. "i don't know, not much has happened." she sighed not knowing what to tell. "i graduated last week." she commented. "you didn't come." chastised kazuha, as an innocent comment.

"sorry." haru lowered her head, an ashamed smile on her lips. "you went to mine even when we had been broken up for months, i should have go since i was in town."

"don't worry, haru, just kidding." she gave her a gentle nudge with her elbow. "you didn't have to come." she understood. "it's enough that you came over to talk to me now." she brought her hand to the back of her neck and squeezed from both sides playfully to comfort her, causing them both to laugh. "you came to see aeri?" she changed topics, returning to the situation they were in.

"yes, obviously, we all came." she took a glance at where her friend was sitting. "and well, jimin too." she admitted, feeling out the younger girl's reaction.

"oh." her mouth hung slightly open and her eyebrows raised as she processed what she had just been told. "so, you two...?" she raised her index finger to point at her, then wagged it around as if trying to finish her sentence with her gestures.

"it's complicated." she sentenced. "we met again recently." she didn't want to give away too much information.

"sure." she took a moment. "i hope you two do well." she encouraged, seemingly sincere.

"thank you, zuha."

"tell her that..." she took a big breath of air, gathering courage to let her pride go. "that i'm so sorry."

both pairs of eyes met for the first time in the entire talk, and haru saw in her a glimmer of the kazuha she once loved. a kazuha who could become tender and sensitive, a kazuha only she seemed to have known.

"i know it's not going to change anything." her hands danced in the air illustrating her attempt to explain herself. "or maybe after all this time it doesn't matter anymore." she closed her eyes for a second, recomposing herself. "but if you can, and want, tell her i'm really sorry." she lifted her eyelids, letting her guard down.

"i will."

haru felt something inside her stir, the memories. seeing kazuha in that place felt surreal to her, but apart from that talking to her brought back a feeling that mixed both the familiar and the unfamiliar. she could never hate her, after all, haru had always been one of the few people who couldn't do that at all. seeing her there, being a bit of who she once was, blinded something in her brain, and her first instinct was to lean in and hug her.

"it's good to see you." she whispered, her chin resting lightly on her shoulder. "and it's good to hear you're sorry." she moved her hand along her back.

"i want to apologize to you too, haru." at that moment, she finally dared to raise her arms and reciprocate the woman's gesture. "sorry for ruining that nice thing we had." her voice sounded a little shaky.

"i don't need you to apologize to me." she shook her head even if the girl wouldn't see it. "i chose long ago to keep only the good parts of your time in my life."

the older girl stood up straight, breaking the hold they had on each other. she arranged her locks behind her ears and connected their gazes, which were flooded with nostalgia and affection. between the two of them, there was no more romance, but there would always remain the deep adoration you have for someone who was once your confidante and security.

"... yu jimin." this time it was a female professor's voice that announced the name, interrupting the moment. again kwon had not heard the introduction.

"oh shit." exclaimed kazuha in surprise. "your girlfriend." she centered her focus on the student body area. "go!" she put her hands on her arm and began to push her back into her seat.

"kazuha, it was good to see you-"

"yeah, yeah, we'll meet again when we compete, now go, jimin is graduating." she didn't let her finish, rushing her.

"wow, you've changed."

"go!" she insisted, ending in both of them letting out a few laughs at the interaction and haru returning to her seat.

the athlete took out her cellphone as she had done with aeri, and pointed it at jimin, who was walking up to the stage. with great joy on her face she took a few photos of her as she received her diploma, then locked the device and put it away so she could applaud her and watch her personally.

when karina stood for her picture with the certificate that she had finished her studies, by coincidence, or a bit because she was looking for it, she found haru in the audience, and couldn't help but stop and admire her as she was happy for her. so in the final image she was not even looking at the camera, but to the side, full of love.

the ceremony was over and the group of friends had ventured out in search of the new graduates, parting in each other's close circle.

minhyuk, eunseo and haru were with giselle and her parents, showering the girl with hugs, affection, congratulations, and taking pictures of her. each one posed with her individually for the camera, and then they did it all together, then with the parents. they would have enough documentation of that moment to fill an album so they would have to forget the picture they had taken of her earlier where she was begging her friends to keep quiet.

minhyuk even cried, claiming he couldn't believe that the youngest of the group had already finished her college years. they had met when they were just teenagers, and now they all had degrees and their futures planned.

jimin was first greeted by her family, who warmly congratulated her on her achievement, and then her friends arrived, who, of course, started a magazine-worthy photo session in the middle of the auditorium. seungkwan even lifted up ningning, who was holding a phone with the flashlight on, in order to properly illuminate the picture that winter was taking of yunjin and jimin.

after, they became involved in a hyped conversation, but the girl could not stop diverting her interest to the group surrounding the uchinagas.

she had already been welcomed and showered with compliments for what she had accomplished, she just wanted to run to haru and have her close finally. but over there, they kept crying and hugging each other sentimentally.

it was while her loved ones were talking about the different job offers karina had on the table for her future, that she turned to see what was going on in the other gathering of people and noticed a bored haru, as they were not doing anything in particular, she was distracted scanning what was going on in her surroundings.

she took the opportunity as her own and excitedly ran towards the oldest, who noticed her approaching her euphorically and opened her arms waiting. jimin's body crashed into haru's, with enough intensity that the latter slightly lost her balance and had to take a few steps backward, dragging yu.

"how is my favorite graduate?"

she wrapped her arms around jimin, with one holding her body tightly and one hand wandering through her hair subtly. the younger clinging to her waist as if there was a hurricane around and the girl was the only thing she could hold on to.

"actually, that offended me." giselle's voice was heard from behind.

"you're my favorite too." she detached her hand from the blackhaired's back to point her finger at her friend.

"you can't have two favorites." aeri held her waist and brought all her weight to one leg as she judged with her gaze.

"later you discuss it." karina made a rambunctious gesture indicating for them to be quiet. "hello." she whispered, as she pressed her forehead together with the haru's.

"hello." she replied in the same volume, just for her to hear, showing all her teeth from the joy she felt. "i'm so proud of you, princess."

"thank you, baby." they stared at each other stupidly for a few moments. "i missed you." she added, finally being able to say it to her face.

"i missed you too." she lifted herself up a little, getting to the height to leave a delicate kiss on her nose. "you look good." she exclaimed in amusement taking a few steps back so she could observe her full body, their hands enlaced.

"don't i?" she took one foot off the ground giving a short hop and cocked her head to one side with a cheeky expression. "i'm the most adorable economist." she ran her hair making it fly back, continuing the joke.

haru's smile spread even wider and her eyes, or what could be seen from between those cavities that formed moons as they narrowed, sparkled as they followed karina. the girl could no longer contain the wave of beautiful emotions beating against her chest, and she walked briskly to catch the younger girl again and lift her into the air, spinning around, accompanied by her giggles.

the golfer slowly stopped, but before she set her down, jimin took the chance to use the hold on her neck and the closeness to her ear to murmur to her, in a tone that mixed melancholy and absolute happiness: "being like this with you seems like a dream."

"don't worry." she released the girl once her feet were on the ground. "it's not." she caressed her cheek tenderly. "i'm really here, and i'm happy to be." she reassured, comforting the girl.

jimin stopped to admire her. even with her words, she found it hard to understand that she was real. she felt like it was an angel in front of her. she loved her, in such an overwhelming way that jimin thought it escaped from her heart and took over her whole body, leaving no room for her blood, organs or veins. she loved her with all that she was.

"come!" the younger girl exclaimed abruptly after remembering something, startling the sportswoman with her sudden change of attitude. she took her hand and then started walking quickly.

they approached where jimin's acquaintances were standing, stopping short in front of them. haru felt a little shy since she had never met the girl's parents. off to the side, her friends watched the scene proudly, after all they had accompanied her through in those two years.

"mom, dad, this is my girlfriend." she held out her hand to the girl, who bowed as a greeting of respect to the elders, but looked a little puzzled. seeing her reaction, yu realized the label she had used and felt nervous. "my thing." that wasn't good either. "my haru." she corrected herself. "this is haru."

"so you are haru..." the man said, taking in the person in front of him.

"the golfer!" the lady recalled.

"that's what people know me for." agreed kwon, extending her hand to the couple.

"jimin used to make us watch your matches when she was at home." commented the father, causing the named one to cover her embarrassed face. "you know, i really like golf too..."

to no one's surprise, everyone got along well. haru was incredibly likeable after all, and it filled jimin's soul to see the most important people in her life excitedly engaged in conversation.

a few minutes later, giselle approached them to remind that they were all going to eat at a restaurant later to celebrate. there was a reception for all the graduates, but they preferred to go with their best friends.

they had been there for at least two hours, but they had only started eating. although everyone had been drinking and chatting since they arrived.

it was amazing how the two groups had found each other and managed to get along, despite the things that had happened between them.

at one end of the table were seungkwan and minhyuk, the latter had his arm around the back of the other's chair, wrapping it around him. they were distracted in a debate about whether fries tasted better with ketchup or cheese, and it was endearing to see how the chef never stopped laughing at anything that came out of his boyfriend's mouth, while the golfer gets fascinated listening to the things he told. they had a nice relationship, they understood each other in humor, and had similar tastes, they were boyfriends and friends at the same time.

the rest of the girls were sitting one on each side, across the table. it wasn't an abysmal distance, but they were still carrying on an almost shouting conversation, laughing uproariously, with eunseo leading the chatter they were engaged in, which was largely gossip. to one side of the oldest redhead, minjeong was quiet and smiling, drinking her beer and stealing loving glances at her now wife.

and in one corner, haru and karina were in their chairs next to each other. the older one's hand rested comfortably on the graduate's leg, who was brushing her fingers along the other's body in search of contact. both were attentively listening to what the others were saying and would let out a giggle when someone made a funny comment. sometimes starting short exchanges of words only between them, but mostly just enjoying the moment.

juyeon was trying to explain something to yunjin, who was looking at the others with bewilderment as she didn't understand what she was hearing. the girl's expression was funny to her friends, even to jimin, who burst out laughing when she saw her and leaned on haru for support. once it passed, she stayed in that position, with her head on the golfer's shoulder, and after a moment, she wrapped the arm that the girl had holding her with her own, clinging completely to her.

"i love you." said the blackhaired, leaving a kiss on haru's cheek.

"i love you." she reciprocated, turning her head so she could look at her face.

"sorry for introducing you as my girlfriend to my parents today." she casually mentioned.

"no worries, i guess i will be at some point anyway." she shrugged with plenty of attitude.

"oh? so that's how you think..." she gave her a playful pinch. "if so, then why aren't you right now?" she bit her lip expectantly, embarrassed that her heart was pounding at the inquisitions of what she had said.

"you haven't asked me yet." haru explained without giving it much thought and then leaned over to pick up her glass and take a swig of her drink.

"do i have to ask you? i was waiting for you to ask me." she pointed a finger at herself.

"no, clearly you have to ask me." she sipped again, looking defiantly at her over the glass.

"would you be my girlfriend?" karina asked hurriedly, so fast the words were barely understood. her eyes painted with anticipation.

"you're asking me here? with minhyuk present?" she exclaimed ironically.

"what did i do now?" questioned the boy across the table.

"you don't care." the girl dismissed him without even turning to look at him, getting him to throw his hands up in the air in disbelief.

"you must have done something." eunseo accused him, triggering one of their silly arguments.

"come with me." jimin got up from her seat and started walking. haru obeyed and went after her.

"where are you going?" the sportsman vociferated.

"you don't care." repeated her best friend.

"kwon haru, i'm not liking your antics!" he complained offended.

the two girls continued on their way, jimin sure of where she was leading and haru, a little lost, behind her. they arrived at an almost completely unoccupied side of the restaurant, from the main hall of the place you couldn't see clearly and there were few tables, at the end of it, a double glass door that the now economist opened to pass through, the one who was following her also passing by it.

behind it, there was a rather small backyard, which was blocked by trees and bushes. beyond the decorative forestation, there was a concrete wall that could not even be seen among so many leaves and trunks. lights hung from the tops and branches, and there was even a small bench on one side. haru presumed that this place was specially designed for smokers, but at that moment it was empty.

"how did you find this place?" kwon inquired, her eyes on the small lamps above her.

"when i went to the bathroom i got the wrong direction and ended up here." she laughed shyly.

"it's pretty." she lowered her eyes, turning back to jimin.

"like you." she returned witty.

"and you." she added roguishly. "and you brought me here to...?" she raised an eyebrow mischievously.

"kwon haru," she put her hands behind her back, feet together and puffed out her chest, pretending to look like a prince about to make an announcement. "would you do me the honor..."

she paused to search her pockets for something, observe her fingers, and then surveyed her surroundings. she dropped her gaze to the ground, turning only with her upper body so that she could analyze behind her back. she leaned over and held a cigarette butt between her fingers, then extended it toward haru.

"is it antiromantic if i ask you to be my girlfriend with a cigarette butt?" she pouted. "i don't have a ring to give you."

"wait." haru was now the one digging through every crevice of her clothes looking for something that would work. she picked up her wallet and checked it. "is it any use proposing to me with a bill?"

"that's even less romantic than the cigarette." she dropped her arms on either side of her body listlessly.

"a picture of my mom?"

"haru."

"my id?" she continued without stopping checking.

"put that down, put that down." she approached her and pushed down the girl's hands holding her billfold.

"i didn't find anything either, sorry." she put the object away and made a regretful grimace.

"would you like to be my girlfriend?" she said again, unexpectedly.

"don't you need a ring, then?" the woman caught her face between her palms, creating an eye contact that exuded sweetness.

"i'll buy you one for our first anniversary." she promised, her voice soft, only dedicated to her. "and on the next one, and the one after that, and when i ask you to marry me." she held haru's waist. "although i'm so sure you're the love of my life that i might ask you to marry me before any anniversary."

"one step at a time, princess, we're here now." stopped the older one, laughing adoringly at such ideas.

"be my girlfriend." she asked again. "i love you, i don't want to not have you by my side, and i swear i will never ever again do anything to take you away from me. my place is with you."

"of course i will be your girlfriend." haru accepted.

upon hearing the answer, karina bounced on her feet on the spot because of the exhilaration that exploded inside her. she fleetingly pulled the girl from the back of her neck so they could join in a kiss to seal the pact.

it was the first kiss they had shared in two years that carried no pain behind it. all it brought was new beginnings and love. it was safety, and light. the promise that from now on, they both had a place to return to and a refuge for when everything got rough.

jimin's lips caressed haru's with affability, taking the exchange calmly, wanting to express all the stunning chaos she unleashed within herself through that gesture. the opposite held her figure gently, holding her as close to herself as possible as if trying to keep her from leaving again.

they broke the union carefully, still remaining over each other, their noses touching, their lips no more than an inch apart, "haru, let's move to busan." she suggested suddenly.

"what?" she frowned in surprise after hearing what the younger girl had just said.

"or come back to seoul." she added without thinking about what she was saying. she didn't have to as it had been on her mind for days.

"what are you talking about?" she let the girl go and walked a bit away.

"or i can move to incheon." she continued.

"wow, stop right there." she pointed her finger at her signaling to calm down. "what?" she reiterated.

"is that," she gulped in a breath of air, her grimace turning desperate. "you don't live here." she burst the bubble. "and i know we've been avoiding the subject voluntarily, but in two days you go back home, and then we'll be apart again." she began biting her nails.

haru was silent. she knew that what karina was telling her was the inevitable reality, and that they would soon have to part ways one more time, but she had chosen not to worry about it and somehow managed to forget.

"haru, i love you." she affirmed again. "and i'm tired of losing you, so if you tell me that in incheon you're happy, i wouldn't hesitate for a second to move there so i could be with you." she was sure of what she was saying. "but tell me the truth, is incheon for you? do you live the life you want there?"

the golfer knew she didn't. she had two friends in that city, one of whom was juyeon. she played on a team with people she didn't care about. she didn't feel full on her drive in the mornings to go to her training, she didn't even go for a walk in the streets like she often used to do in seoul.

what was there in Incheon for her? what was there in incheon that was hers?

she left seoul because it generated sadness in her, but if she had to be honest, thinking about incheon also made her feel miserable.

"busan?" she blurted out hesitantly after a moment in silence.

"weren't we happy when we were in busan?"

yes. the answer was clearly yes. depending on how you wanted to look at it, it was the place where it all started. where they admitted they felt things for each other and gave those emotions a place to be explored. despite being surrounded by people, it had felt like only they had been there. together. their own universe.

"just you and me?" she hesitated.

"well, we can take juyeon if you want, but she won't live with us." she said jokingly. "oh, and a cat." she finished seriously.

"you, me and a cat?" a smile began to tug at the corner of her mouth.

"what do you say?" she inquired hopefully, unable to hide that she was already excited.

"busan." she shook her head up and down, saying yes. "you and me."

karina let out the highest pitched squeal she had ever projected in her life, she ran towards haru almost as if flying, not even noticing how she came to be held to her girlfriend like a koala bear, her legs clinging to her waist, haru holding her tightly, contentment present in every part of their beings.

"and a cat." she stated again.

"yes, my princess, us and a cat." she guaranteed.

"and we will never separate again." jimin pulled away a little so she could look into her eyes.

"never." haru backed up her words, then moved closer and joined in a kiss.

— the end.

[a/n: thanks to everyone who read, 141 chapters wouldn't have happened without the support this story had. ♡]

(!)

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