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#Why do I have to have money in order to get OUT OF HERE
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WIBTA if I asked my boyfriend to kick his boyfriend out of our communal living situation and out of our polycule due to “incompatibility”?
submitted 5/22/2024 ~💔🌈🏚️<- to find
I (26F) am considering asking my boyfriend O (32M) to kick out his other partner/boyfriend E (36M) from our communal living situation and our polycule, because E is not compatible with either our relationship or the group as a whole. Here’s the situation: The three of us currently live in O’s childhood home (his parents died and he inherited it), along with four other roommates who are not in the polycule. All of us split the bills evenly, except for E because he was recently fired from his job as a mechanic, so he pays a much smaller amount, which means all of us have to increase the amount we pay in order to keep up. This would be fine except E is not looking for a job and this is causing financial strain on all of us. It’s a large house and it’s very old so it tends to need a lot of maintenance, currently we have to get the roof repaired because a section of it caved in during a snowstorm (that part of the house is roped off because it’s still not fixed of course) and just my luck, my room happened to be on the floor below this, so O has me sleeping in his room because he’s worried floor above my room may have rotted from exposure due to the caved in roof. This will be relevant later. Now, here are the specific reasons why I want E out of here (aside from financial strain):
Everyone in the house is part of the same religious group. We are a neo pagan group (details not necessary for this but feel free to ask questions, but just know that we have some agreed upon beliefs and practices that we’ve developed over the past three years) and many in our group, including O, practice witchcraft. E, however, is a hardcore atheist, and is condescending towards us whenever we partake in our various practices. O thinks that E can be persuaded to respect us and that it’s just a matter of time, but I do not think that’s probable. O is the elected spiritual leader in the house (one: because he’s held these beliefs longer than most of us and brought us together, and two: it’s his house), so only O can kick someone out for religious reasons. We can vote to kick someone for abuse, but nothing E has done is technically bad enough.
He should be kicked from the polycule because I think he is using O either for sex or to make up for something he did back when they were in a situationship. The past between those two is very intense because it’s linked to E discovering his identity and it was O’s first relationship. It ended very badly on horrible terms, but they decided to give it another shot for whatever reason. E had an intense vendetta against me from the very beginning and he thinks that I’m delusional for believing O is in love with me because when O liked E it was “very different”. E has his own bedroom, but spends most of the time in O’s room, typically to have sex. Sometimes they want me to join in with them, but I usually decline because I’m suspicious of E’s intentions and I do not trust him. The one time I did agree to join in led to my unplanned pregnancy. I also think E is cheating on O because whenever O leaves the house, E brings over his ex B (33F), and those two hook up (or at least I assume they do because they lock themselves in the bedroom for hours).
On the cheating note, E has been getting checks in the mail from B, but he hasn’t been using this money to contribute to the bills, but rather stashing it away into a “project fund”.
B is dating my ex A (28F) and I know B has been gossiping to her because A has been posting to her private insta account long rants about “another perfectly good lesbian turned by dicks and witchcraft”, which could ONLY be referring to me because as far as I know, she hasn’t had any relationships in between ours and her’s and B’s. She is radfem and tradcatholic so the statement isn’t a surprise, but she only started posting that stuff After B started coming over, and she was kicked from the house for being intolerant, so it’s odd for her to start ranting about me now.
I think it’s unfair that my ex was kicked out for intolerance while I was still dating her, even though I objected (it was a toxic relationship and I was in deep), but O hasn’t kicked out E despite E also being intolerant and dating one of us.
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heeseung-min · 2 days
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𝐒𝐞𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐝 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞
"Your change would be $2.20. Thank you!"
You gave the money to the customer and told him his drink would be ready in a few minutes. The business is slow today. There is not much customers so you are able to do few things in one time.
"Here's your drink, sir. Have a good day."
"It's for you."
"Sorry?"
You were flabbergasted by his gesture. He pushed the drink gently towards you. You could see how his face started to flush and his eyes were everywhere but you.
"I- I ordered this drink for you. Nice to see you."
He said that and immediately ran out from the shop. You were too clueless to do anything so you just sipped on the free drink before went to the next customer.
It continues to be like that. Sometimes, he will bring you flowers or pastries he bought from the bakery near your shop. You learned his name is Jake. At first, the gesture seems to be cute and kind even though you denied him doing it sometimes. However, it became overwhelming when he started to send you gifts like ring with a side note hinted about marriage. You don't like Jake like that. You tried to talk to him about that but sadly the man just giggled and didn't take the matter seriously.
You were laying on the couch while watching a korean drama on your television. You decided to take some days off from work and also from Jake. He is a good guy but you prefer to be just a friend and no more than that. As you were munching on the snacks, you heard knock from the front door.
"urghh I didn't even invite anyone."
You walked to the door forcedly. You just want to enjoy your rest without any disturb. When you opened the door, you were shocked when you saw Jake was standing in front of the door.
"Jake...how can you...be here?"
Jake was standing in front of you with smile on his face. His hands were holding a small bouquet of flowers. However, you never tell him your address. How the fuck this man can be here ?
"Ahh well umm I accidentally saw you around here the other day ago. I was worried about you, Y/n. I thought you were sick because you didn't open your shop and I was waiting there every morning. Thankfully the security guard helped me to get to your house."
"Go away."
His smile dropped after you said that words coldly. Your eyes also changed to scared and angred. Jake didn't understand. He didn't do anything wrong. Why are you being like this?
"Why? I just miss you Y/N. Why I can't be here with you? I thought this is boyfriend things to do."
"What the fuck do you say?!!"
"Are we fighting right now? Whatever I did I'm really sorry. I will try my best to not do it again. This is my first time-"
"Stop! STOP STOP STOP STOP JAKE STOP!!!"
Jake went speechless after hearing you shouted. You rolled your eyes when Jake's expression didn't look guilty at all.
"We are not a couple. I don't love you. We are just friends, Jake. What you did right now is wrong. I never tell you my address and the fact you followed me here is disturbing. So, I want you to leave before I called the police."
You said and immediately closed the door on him. You waited for 20 minutes to open the door again and sighed in relief when Jake finally gone. You thought of going to your parents house since Jake already know your address so he might come here again.
That night, you brought your luggage through the parking building to get to your car. It was at the middle of the night and you thought it was safe since you were alone.
But that's where you got it wrong.
"Where are you going, sweetheart?"
You flinched at the sight of Jake standing few metres from you. His clothes are not clean like how you saw him this morning. His white top looked brownish like a dried blood and it's not only on his clothes but also on his face and hands. He was just smiling at you waiting for your response.
"Are you .... planning to run away from me?"
Your heartbeat started to increase. His voice had made your hands shaking and gave you goosebumps. It feels hard to move and he slowly walked closer to you.
"I missed you like crazy, Y/n."
Suddenly, you finally got courage and ran to make it to your car. You were like 50 metres away from your car and Jake was a bit far. However, as you were running to your car Jake started to do the same too. The luggage you brought together already forgotten and you only want to save yourself for now.
When you thought he nearly grabbed your hand you successfully dodged it and quickly get inside the car and locked it instantly to stop Jake from getting inside too. You watched him being in rage and frustrated when he failed to catch you. His harsh knock on your car window made you flinched again. Jake went closer to the window and staring straight to your eyes.
"I will find you no matter how far you run away from me, Y/n."
Immediately, you started the engine and reverse the car away from him before starting the drive. You looked at him from the rear view mirror and felt the goosebumps again when he just standing there and watched you went away.
You were lucky to still have your wallet and phone. Only this two things matter for now. You tried to call your parents but failed few times it only forwarded you to the operator.
After two hours of driving, you felt so hungry and sleepy at the same time. You made a stop at the gas station to fill up your gas and bought some breads and drink for your empty stomach.
You were focusing on the options of foods they have when someone entering the station. Your eyes widened at the sight of Jake who was looking everywhere to see you. You hide at one of the aisle and the cashier staring weirdly at him then called him out.
"What do you want man? You looking for something?"
"Where is she?"
You heard Jake asked but the cashier looked so confused and told Jake to get out before he called the police. However, instead of following what the worker said Jake shot him once at the head and you cupped your mouth to prevent any sound coming out. You never expected Jake to be this violence. You tried to think how to run away from here and found an empty glass bottle near the freezer. Without wasting too much time, you picked it up and ran to Jake the smashed at his head. You heard his loud groan and curse but you keep running towards your car and left the gas station.
Jake too immediately chased you with his car. He wasn't going to let you go. He will get you no matter what. The smash caused his head to bleed but he didn't care and he didn't feel hurt at all. He just feel excited and thrilled at the thought of playing cat and mouse with you.
You were groaning frustratedly when your call still doesn't get pick up. Jake is really crazy and you hate for tolerating him at the first place.
"PICK THE FUCK UP. I'M SCARED RIGHT NOW."
"Hello, what's the emergency?"
"HELP ME PLEASE! I'M GETTING CHASED PLEASE HELP ME HE'S GETTING CLOSER."
"Miss, please slow down. We can't really hear you."
"OH GOD SEND THE POLICE THIS MAN IS OBSESSED WITH ME."
You shouted as you were pressing the pedal to increase your speed while looking at the rear mirror to see how near Jake's car to you. You screamed again when suddenly Jake's car got hit from the left by a big truck. The hit made his car ended up upside down. That immediately made you stopped your car as you felt horrible seeing the car crash. The road was empty and it's only you, Jake and the truck driver. You wanted to call the ambulance but stopped yourself before can do and decided to be selfish just one time.
For yourself.
"Ma'am? Is everything okay?"
You went silence. What happened just now made you can't think properly so you hung up on the call and just keep driving leaving the poor truck driver and Jake there.
You finally escape from him.
_____________
_____________
Few years has been passed. You are living a slow life right now with a lovely cat at a bungalow house. After the car crash you witnessed that night, you drove yourself to your parents house but figured out they got murdered and you were sure the dried blood you saw on Jake was them. So, you reported it to the police and they did the investigation however it came to the conclusion that Jake died that night at the car crash. You thought he deserved it for making your life miserable at the first place. But at the same time you feel your life empty because of the loneliness but you keep living and become successful in your job and now you are enjoying your time alone.
You were closing the gate and saw those workers were carrying some furnitures to the house. You also saw a large golden retriever dog running around adjusting itself with the place. Guess you are getting a new neighbour. You turned around and suddenly heard someone called you.
"Hello there, neighbour."
You turned back and saw a very attractive man. His black hair looks so fluffy and his glasses made him more attractive and nerd at the same time. The dog you saw were running around was standing beside him wiggling its tail while looking at you.
"Ah..hello."
"Sorry if I disturbing you. Just want to inform you I will be living at this house. What's your name?"
Ah, why are you suddenly getting blushing Y/n? It's just a man. You see men every single day. You calmed yourself before introducing.
"I am Y/n. What is yours?"
"Jaeyun. My name is Sim Jaeyun."
"Glad to know you, Jaeyun."
"Same goes here." He said as he shook your hand.
Now, your new story finally begin.
Or does it? Really?
Jake was grateful he is still alive after getting hit by the truck. He decided to stay low and get his father's help to prevent him from getting caught and instead make a fake death news about him. He searched the entire world for you. Although he failed many times since you didn't get active on social media but he was glad when that day he found your picture on your friend's Instagram account celebrating your birthday.
He also took a drastic change where he got his face surgically done to look like a whole different person because he knew you will try to run away from him again. Now, he will use different tactic to tackle you.
Right now, he is standing in front of you feels like a dream. The blush on your face made him fluttered. You are so cute he can't wait to lock you up!
No one is going to know. This secret only between him and God.
"Thanks for giving me the second chance, God."
_______
Oh my god😂😂😂 that's intense. In my head its really wild when i imagined it but hopefully you guys get the feels😬😬
Also for the sake of story, the jake before i want you guys to imagine him as this
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yes yes i know he is maki from &team but i want yall to imagine this is the "old" jake and
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this is the sim jaeyun after he got face surgery okay?
thanks for reading this🥰🥰
Taglist: @stacey-stonem @duolingofanaccount @obsessed1with1straykids @huggyuvita @eeunoia @rowretro @soireegurl
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Cubes have 9 sides. Iknow they have 9 sides but every time I try to say it it comes out as 9 sides. 9 sides. Nine sides. I know they have nine sides and not nine sides, but I can only say that they have nine sides. I have a geometry research paper due and I can't have it saying that cubes have 9 sides. Help?
Easy now. What you're seeing here is a normal case of what we call noncompliant mathematics, when your personal perception of mathematics is altered such that it does not align with the consensus on how numbers work. I once knew a guy who couldn't shake the notion that 2 + 2 = a small rock. That one was contagious, actually, but we reverse engineered the coghaz on it and released the memetic inoculation to the surrounding area via the local stop signs.
This doesn't seem too bad of a case - I used to have a pamphlet about this, but as a first step, you're going to want to take a few days off work. Get some food and supplies and just try and do as little as possible for about 48 hours. The goal is to do no math at all in that time, which is difficult - as humans we do math when figuring out distances, amounts, in music and other hobbies. It'll be boring, but it's like a muscle injury. Continuing to exercise that mental muscle is only going to cause problems, and you need to rest it in order for it to "heal" and for your perception to snap back to normal.
Jenny, could you get ready to send this person our noncompliant math survival kit? It'll have a pamphlet and some suggestions on things to listen to, non-repeating white noise mainly--
-is Ambrose still in that Weezer cover band? Wiizard, or whatever?
Uh, I think so. Why, are you -- oh no, I wouldn't hire them. Ambrose wouldn't accept money, but to be frank, you get what you pay for with them.
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slyvester101 · 1 day
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Wash remembers the first day he saw Tucker without his armor.
They were at Valhalla, long after the fight with the Meta, finally settling down into a routine that felt… natural. That being said, Wash was still a little stiff around base, unsure what to do or how to act with nobody around to give him orders.
Well, Tucker would give him the occasional order, but it was more of a snarky request he never expected Washington to complete or a bitchy reply to whatever melodramatic comment Wash had made.
Besides, Tucker seemed hesitant to give any actual orders despite being the highest ranking on base, leaving Wash to just… hover.
He’d train in the morning, going on simple runs while he healed up from fighting both Tex and the Meta before gradually moving back to his regular training regimen. Sometimes Caboose would join, giving Wash a run for his money with how difficult he was to take down in a spar.
Tucker never seemed keen on joining, not much of a morning person himself, though he obviously trained at some point since Tucker could wield his plasma sword like a pro.
It was a shame they trained at different times. Wash would really like to wage his knives against Tucker’s sword.
It was that fateful sunny day, however, that finally gave Wash that chance to wager.
It was early, even for Wash. The sun had barely made it over the horizon, the canyon still quiet as most of its residents slept.
Wash was practically buzzing in bed.
He didn’t want to wake Caboose, couldn’t even if he wanted to. When Caboose was asleep, he was dead to the world until he got his eight hours. (Like clockwork. Wash was impressed.)
He also didn’t want to wake Tucker, but the itch in his skin wasn’t going away even after pumping out enough push ups to make his arms sting or running around the canyon enough to get his legs aching.
No, what he needed was a spar. And a good one at that.
Tucker seemed like the kind of guy to understand that kind of itch. Wash thinks he’s seen it in the few times he’s caught him practicing katas with his sword.
Angry and rushed and hard, yet still powerful and firm and artful.
Wash would like a fight with that. Wash would really like a fight with that. Which is what got him into this situation.
In his defense, he did knock on the door.
He just also… forgot to wait for an answer.
He was antsy, alright? He hardly had the patience to wait for Tucker to wake up enough to answer him.
He really should’ve waited.
Tucker laid there bare, the only thing covering him up being the blanket tangled around his middle (and thank fuck for that). Miles of dark skin that Wash didn’t even think to consider was under that aqua armor shined softly under the morning sun along with the long connecting marks of gentle blue tattoos covering his body. Wash trailed them up and down the length of Tucker’s body, dully noting the two marks that curled over his face.
That must’ve been a bitch to get.
Tucker definitely worked out to some degree if the lean muscles covering his body were anything to go by, Wash noted with a mild appreciation—
Wait. No. That’s not what he’s for.
He snaps his eyes back up from where they were, admittedly, staring at Tucker’s thick thighs up to his face and—
Were Tucker’s eyes always open?
“Enjoying the view, sweetheart?”
Wash flushed from head to toe as Tucker flashed him a lazy grin and oh fuck Wash can see the sharpness of his canines from here.
“Uh.” He said dumbly, brain still figuring out how the fuck Tucker’s voice was so grumbly even though he wasn’t wearing his helmet. “I was just— I just wanted to know if you wanted to have a spar with me?”
The end of his sentence trailed off as Tucker sat up in his elbows, blanket falling further down his stomach to reveal some thick, jagged looking scars of blue. It took all of Wash’s willpower to not just stare at the artwork across Tucker’s skin.
Focus.
“Dude, it’s like, butt-fuck o’clock. And not the fun kind. Why are you even awake?” Tucker didn’t sound annoyed, just curious, mostly groggy and maybe a bit amused.
Wash shuffled as Tucker blatantly checks out his own armor free body, feeling a little self-conscious about the sweat making his shirt cling to his chest.
“I uh, couldn’t sleep. ‘M a bit restless.”
Tucker looks him over a bit more critically, taking note of the way Wash practically vibrates out of his skin. He flicks his eyes up to Wash’s and all Wash sees is plain and simple understanding. His shoulders drop a bit.
“Hm. Yeah, sure. I could go for a spar.” Tucker’s gaze shifts again and Wash feels like he’s pinned to floor with the intensity of it. Tucker leans back on his elbows more, shifting just enough to make the blanket fall just between his legs, leaving very little to Wash’s imagination.
“I could go for more than a spar, if you’re up for it.”
Wash blinks.
Blinks again.
Did he mean…?
His body buzzes in excitement at the implication, his fists squeezing tight to keep it from spilling out of him. “I’ll get my knives. Meet you out in the yard in ten.”
Wash is bolting out down the hallway before he can spot Tucker’s confused expression.
He’s finally going to be able to test Tucker’s swordplay.
This was gonna be fun.
+++
Tucker watches with mild interest and confusion as Wash slips from view before letting himself plop back down onto his bed.
When he had awoken to Wash eyeing him up, he thought it was gonna end with both of them in here. Apparently, Wash is a lot less observant than previously thought. Or maybe he was just stupid oblivious.
Spending years with the same group of people while in the middle of a military operation was not indicative of good flirting skills and comprehension.
Tucker would know, he had to relearn so many things about sex and the art of seduction after all the years he spent in Blood Gulch.
Maybe he could give a fee pointer to Wash.
In the meantime, he had a freelancer’s ass to kick. Tucker didn’t spend all that time playing with his sword for nothing.
This was gonna be fun.
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fancyfeathers · 2 days
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Okay I was scrolling through one of my favorite blogs, @yandere-wishes, and reading through their posts about ballet in yandere content and then I saw their posts about a certain William James Moriarty and then it clicked…
He would have a ballerina darling.
I need you to bear with me on this one, but I know a lot about ballet and the history of it because I am a ballerina. Historically, especially around the time Moriarty the Patriot takes place, ballerinas were also female entertainment after performances. Opera houses and theaters were essentially gentlemen’s clubs after performances, men of the higher classes would visit these girls and young ladies, who were basically living off of pennies, and in exchange for their time and sometimes their bodies the girls would receive gifts like just enough money to pay for rent, better point shoes that would only last a few weeks at most, better clothing that they wouldn’t be able to afford otherwise. Even if they didn’t want to this is what they needed to do in order to survive and even parents of these woman made them do it.
So just imagine all three brothers go to the ballet together to perhaps look into the owner of the theater due to rumors of abuse of their employees. After the show when they go backstage they hear the sound of yelling and following it to see a frightened young lady who looks like she is about to cry being scolded by the ballet mistress. She apparently messed up during the performance and while she did it was for a reason. She tries to explain to the instructor why she was so tired during the performance but the older lady won’t hear any of it, only telling her to wipe away her pathetic tears so she go out onto the floor like the other girls to “mingle” with the guests, since she was just expressing how she needed new shoes. The girl sighs as her superior walks off and she goes off to one of the vanities to freshen up and as she is reapplying her makeup and wiping away her tears, Williams sees what she was crying about…
He spots finger shaped bruises on her wrists along with more bruises just barely hiding under her costume.
She looks like she is about to break down crying again as she cries to readjusts her makeup and hair in the mirror, knowing that it is only going to end up being ruined again by the end of the night. That’s when a larger hand grabs the brush from her own hand, that was trembling so badly that she almost dropped it. She looks in the reflection of the mirror to see a handsome man behind her with blond hair and scarlet eyes. He smiles at her ever so kindly as he begins to help her brush through her hair…
“Now why do you stain you face with such tears? What is wrong, my dear?”
And she cracks, telling this near stranger everything, what she has to do to earn her living, what people do to her, she cries as quietly as she can so no one can hear her as she tells him how she just it wants it all to stop. He smiles at her as he tries her hair up with the ribbon she had in it before during the performance and simply tells her…
“Then your wish is my command.”
He gives her money so that she doesn’t have to perform any unsavory activities with the people here tonight and she can just go home to get a good night’s rest. She doesn’t get his name as she nods and runs off to get changed and while she is out of sight, William asks one of his brothers to follow her home so she gets back safely while he goes to speak with a few of the others that are there that night, not to get her address because he already knows it, an apartment in a poorer area of the city. He also knows that her mother forced her into this and then kicked her out when she told her that she didn’t want to do it anymore, he knows that her father is dead, he knows that she only continues this job because she has no where else to go and if she looses it because an incident happened to the owners of the theater that ended in their untimely deaths then she would have no source of income.
She would come home in tears when she lost her job, both in relief and sadness, and be told by her landlord that a young gentleman was here to see her, with a mention that rent was due by the end of the week that she had no way to pay for. So she goes up to her apartment to see that same gentleman from that night sitting in her apartment, smiling at her…
After all she is going to need some place to live once she can’t pay rent anymore.
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potassiumivy · 2 days
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PLAYBOY. | jjk
❥ mdni. fic masterlist.
*ੈ✩‧₊˚ 009: BILLS, BILLS, BILLS.
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✞ 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐘𝐁𝐎𝐘✞
YOU WERE SITTING ON A HIGH CHAIR, your eyes closed as two makeup artists took their time applying your eyeshadow. 
the runway was moments away from starting. the designers and the event planners were frantic, shouting orders here and there while the other models ran from side to side. 
"good think we came prepared, huh?" shiu said, leaning against the vanity table. 
"mhm." 
he raised an eyebrow at your lack of interest. "did something happen?"
you visibly grew a little upset, but tried to avoid moving too much. 
you didn't want to ruin your makeup. 
not yet.
"they didn't let us back in the dorms. kinji and kirara tried to get there before me, and they both got kicked out by the higher ups. we'll have to go back next week. i'm worried about them now that i'm far away." 
you were always so sweet, sweeter than a chocolate-dipped strawberry. 
and shiu? shiu was an opportunist—he could smell the benjamins from miles away. good thing he liked his money dirty, and his cash liquid. 
he discreetly shooed your makeup artists away, approaching you slowly like a wolf in sheep's clothing.
"don't be so sad, alright?" he started with a soft voice, dragging his thumb on your bottom lip. "i promise you that they're fine."
his other hand played with a strand of your hair before he tucked it behind your ear. "what about we make a deal to get your mind away from this mess, hmm?" his voice was lower than before. 
shiu knew that he got you exactly where he wanted when you looked up at him through your lashes, batting them slowly. you didn't respond, but the curiosity in your eyes told him that you were hooked. 
"go on the runway and get me two articles."
you looked dazed, confused by the request. he chuckled, his shoulders shaking slightly. 
he raised his ring and middle fingers, "if you manage to have two articles written about you, i'll get you anything you want."
you stared at his fingers, your mouth slightly agape. shiu's grin widened at that. 
you got up, patting the tight skirt of the lingerie set you were wearing. the show was about to start. 
"any preference?" you asked, and shiu shot you a quizzical look.
you smiled, biting your cheek before clarifying. "what magazines?" 
shiu's pants felt tighter. "vogue and harper's bazaar."
you pouted are that your eyes turning glossy. "but i can't promise you that, shiu!"
"why?" a smirk grew on his lips, "you don't think you could do it?"
"no, i can't do two." you admitted, your shoulders slumping. 
you immediately ran when your heard the designer calling your name. before getting on the stage, you turned back to shiu. 
"i'll do three."
"huh?"
"three is my lucky number." you smiled widely. 
"also, i'm more of a cosmopolitan girl."
you winked at him, turning on your heel before getting on the runway. 
article or not, he knew he'll be your little toy from now on.
*✧・゚:    *✧・゚:    *✧・゚:    *✧・゚:
✞ 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐘𝐁𝐎𝐘✞
*✧・゚:    *✧・゚:    *✧・゚:    *✧・゚:
the moment you came backstage with a huge smile on your face, he knew you secured your part of the deal. he didn't even need to check— he clearly heard the sound of cameras flashing intensifying the moment you set your foot on stage. 
"shit, i knew you could do it." his arms snaked around your waist, rubbing circles on your skin. "so tell me what you want," he rested his forehead on your shoulder, "and it'll be yours."
you tapped a finger on your cheek, deep in thought. your finger slid down from your face before resting on the pearls around your neck. 
"i want a new necklace," you announced, "shinier than the one i have."
he grabbed you, on the verge of dragging you to the nearest jewelry store before you yanked back on his arm. 
"but now, i just wanna sleep." you yawned, overwhelmed by the day's events.
"alright." he nodded his head slowly. he was an impatient man.
he drove back to the hotel, dropping you in your suite before making his way back to the store that caught his attention earlier. 
*✧・゚:    *✧・゚:    *✧・゚:    *✧・゚:
✞ 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐘𝐁𝐎𝐘✞
*✧・゚:    *✧・゚:    *✧・゚:    *✧・゚:
you just finished washing your face after your nap when you heard the door opening. getting out of the washroom, your eyes immediately met shiu's, who had a briefcase in each hand.
"what are in those?" you asked, but he ignored you. he dropped them on the floor before grabbing something from his pocket.
"close your eyes." he ordered, and you did.
you could hear his footsteps getting closer and closer as he circled around you. you felt his fingertips on your nape, unclasping your necklace. you opened your mouth to protest, but the cool feeling of metal suddenly replaced the familiar pearls. 
you tilted your head to smile at him before trying to look at your brand new necklace, but he held your chin in place. "don't look down." he breathed out, "it's a surprise."
then, he kissed you hard. 
you wasted no time kissing him back messily. you held the collar of his shirt as he kissed you slowly, your lips moving in sync with his just as hungrily. 
he bit your lower lip, then he suddenly pulled back even though it pained him to do so. he walked across the room, picking up the briefcases he left on the floor. your eyes widened when he walked towards your bed, emptying their content on the silk sheets. 
"can you guess how much money that it?" shiu asked, his eyes low. 
you stood there, stunned. your breathing was getting heavier, and you knew that you were slowly getting turned on. 
"300 k." you mumbled.
he chuckled as he threw his blazer on the floor, his tie following suit. "cmon angel, you're smarter than that." 
he slowly unbuttoned his white shirt, maintaining eye contact with you, "you know i wouldn't do all that for 300k." 
he threw you over his shoulder with his hand holding your thighs. you giggled at his eagerness as he dropped you on top of the mountain of cash.
he rolled the sleeves of his shirt, setting a knee on the bed before he crawled on top of you to leave a trail of opened-mouth kisses on your neck. 
you threw your head back, silent gasps leaving your swollen lips.
"it's 3 millions." he said in between kisses. "3 fucking millions. and i'll make you cum three times on top of them for the three big articles you managed to snatch."
he hastily undressed you, leaving you in your black lace underwear. "seems like a fair deal to me, no?" he asked before ripping your undergarments from you.
"that set was my favourite..." you whined, and shiu pecked your pouty lips. "i'll take you shopping tomorrow, okay?" 
"m'kay." you wouldn't kiss him back, turning your head to the side. 
shiu didn't mind your attitude—he knew you'll forget about it in a few minutes. his finger ran up and down your slit. "shit, angel, you're so wet for me." 
"don't get big headed now. it's not you, it's the money." 
he ignored you once again, choosing to tease your entrance instead, which made you let out a little moan. his middle and ring finger started to pump in and out of you slowly. 
when he heard you start panting a little, he sped up his movements. "this one's for vogue." he said, adding his thumb, feverishly rubbing your clit while he fingerfucked you. 
he was knuckle-deep inside you, hitting that same spot your pretty fingers rarely reached—you didn't want to tear yourself up with your manicured nails. good thing you had people doing this for you. 
you didn't hide your moans anymore, letting the man know how good he made you feel as you spread your legs even more for him. 
he looked down at your pussy, spreading your puffy lips with his free hand. he spat on it, making your eyes roll back. 
"so you're into nasty shit, huh?" he asked, taking his fingers out of you. only his thumb remained on your clit, applying enough pressure to make your mind hazy.
"no, no, put them back, shiu." you hiccuped, clawing at his forearm. 
"get on your knees." he hushed you, "i promise i'll put them right where they belong." 
you immediately complied, wanting the numbing pleasure to overtake you again. you got on your hands and knees, sticking your ass up. you looked back at him over your shoulder, your eyes begging him to do something, anything. 
he licked his lips, checking you out before grabbing your neck from behind. "not now sweetheart," he started, pulling you up so only your knees touched the mattress. "i want to make you cum on my fingers before fucking you stupid."
he pulled you towards himself, your back hitting his chest. you noticed that he took his white shirt off completely, only leaving him in his pants. still grabbing your throat, his fingers made their way back inside you roughly, regaining the same intensity as before. 
seeing you try to match the pace of his fingers made him crazy, as he groaned in your ear, fingering you even faster. you came on his fingers, and he kissed your cheek before getting up, finally undressing completely.
he carried you to the bathroom, gently putting you down, and your hands unconsciously gripped the counter. you saw him ripping a condom's wrapper with his teeth, putting it on his dick. 
"arch your back just like earlier, angel. fuck, yeah, just like that." he loved it when you followed his orders.
"harper's bazaar." was all he said before sliding his dick into you without warning, setting a fast pace from the beginning. 
the sound of skin echoed in the bathroom, the scent of sex filling the air. your were getting fucked so good that you forgot about your new necklace, even though it was swinging back and forth, slapping your breasts. 
"did you notice your pretty necklace?" he was breathless. "look in the mirror for me." he pulled your hair, making you look at yourself in the mirror. you came the moment you saw the golden cartier necklace around your neck, saying shiu's name over and over.
your clenching was too much for him— he gritted his teeth, his cum filling up the condom. "wait for me on the bed, i just have to throw this away."
you didn't wait for him. 
when he entered the bedroom, he saw you covered in dollar bills, giving all of your attention to your neglected clit. your moans were high-pitched as your hips wildly chased your orgasm.
opening your eyes, you looked straight at shiu. "three... oh, fuck, fuck, fuck. three is my lucky number." you gave him a dopey smile before focusing on yourself again. 
shiu couldn't even be mad at you. he didn't expect this, but he was beyond turned on, jerking off to the sight of you. he wanted to talk dirty to you, but his throat was dry. he felt like he wasn't even there with the way you played with yourself. 
your thighs were shaking so much and the slight rustling of all the money beneath you were enough to push you off the edge for a final time, as you came harder than you ever did. third time's a charm, right?
you were so sleepy, but you turned to look at shiu. he was so close to climax again. you could tell from the sweat dripping down his abs. 
you didn't say much before dozing off, but it was enough for shiu to have the best orgasm of his life.
"that one was for cosmopolitan."
✞ 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐘𝐁𝐎𝐘✞
next!!
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©potassiumivy, 2024. all rights reserved. do not translate / modify / republish my works.
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resi4skz · 7 hours
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Title: Mi Amore (oneshot)
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Pairing: nonidol!Chan x Grace (OC)
Warnings: swearing in italian, smut
This is for @GraceBang143 (i cannot tag her in it, stupid tumblr)
!! MINORS DNI !!
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"Ugh, for the last time, Steph!" I exclaim as I put ice in the blender, chatter of customers in the background. "Olivia is my cousin and he's her boyfriend!"
"So?" She says and turns at the till, smiling at the customer. "Thank you for choosing Stat Lost, have a nice day!" She turns to me as she closes the register. "Look, we both know what of a person Olivia is. She's probably moved on to the ne-"
The sound of the small hanging bell on the door cuts her off. We both look at the front door at the same time to see my cousin, Olivia and her boyfriend, Chris.
Or Chan, as I like to call him. He was dressed in a black shirt and blue jeans, topped off with a black cap.
Gosh.
Why did he have to be so damn attractive?
Olivia walks over to a vacant table as Chan approaches me. I put on the biggest smile, as if he isn't my regular. "Hey, you're back."
"Yeah," he replies, taking out his wallet. "She'll have a macchiato with a cheese scone and I'll have a-"
"BLT with extra bacon and a watermelon lemonade?" I finish his sentence.
His eyes light up, giving me a small smile. "Yeah. Wow. You even remember customers orders?"
Only yours, is what I wanted to say. "Sort of. Since you're a regular here so I took the liberty of memorizing your order."
"Wow."
I tap on the computer screen taking his order and scan his card before giving it back. "Your order will be with you shortly."
"Thanks."
When I turn around, Stephanie is looking at me with a smirk on her face. Rolling my eyes, I start on his sandwich. Just gotta get through it. You can do it, Grace.
Suddenly, I feel a sharp pain on my finger. "Cazzo!" I glance down and see a small cut on my finger. Great, just I need. Quickly cleaning my hand, I gently wrap my finger in a bandaid.
"Everything alright?"
I jump at the voice before turning around. He needs to stop being so god damn good looking. "Yes. Your order is ready. Give me one moment." I put their order on a tray a d hand it to him. "Thank you for choosing Star Lost, I hope you enjoy your order!"
He chuckles, nodding. "Thank you, Grace."
My heart does that thing again. Oh wait, that's my stomach. I groan when he sits at the table with Olivia. "Have you maybe tried confessing?" Steph asks from behind me.
"What good will that do?"
"Maybe he'll realize what a crappy of girlfriend he has right now and maybe likes you back?"
Hanging my head in defeat, I walks towards the back door. I need a break.
------------------------------------------------------------
But when I come inside, I hear Steph and Olivia in a heated argument.
"What do you mean I can't have a free muffin? It's my cousin's bakery!" Olivia shouted.
"Because if we started giving away free muffins," I state stepping behind the counter and face her, "We'd be out of business. And it's not my bakery. Steph and I are partners."
"You're greedy. Why can't you just say that?"
"Babe, maybe we should-" Chan began.
"No, you stay out of this!" She brushes him off.
The fuck.....did she just tell him off? My blood boils, my nerves lighting on fire. "Olivia, simply just leave before you piss me off anymore."
"What?" She blinks at me. "What the fuck is your problem?"
"You want to know what my problem is? You might need a notepad because the list is long."
"Fuck you," she spat. "I hope this shitty place rots."
"Ah, the words from the famous home wrecker Olivia James," I say.
"Home wrecker?" Chan says as he looks between Olivia and I.
"Chan, don't listen to he-"
But I cut her off. I've had it with her bullshit. "Let me ask you something, Liv. Did you also try to lure him into your trap so he would give you money? Or are you fucking his buddies too like you did with Mr. Stanley?"
Mr. Stanley was our neighbor and his lovely wife, Diana would always bake these pecan pies that was mouth watering. One day, Mr. Stanley came to our house to drop off a pie and Olivia was the only one home. One thing led to another, once Olivia saw he was loaded, she seduced him and ended up sleeping with him. Many, many times. It wasn't until Diana saw them going at it in her home, on the kitchen table because she had gotten off work early.
Safe to say, Diana is divorced and thriving by travelling the world with her friends.
The look on Olivia's face is priceless though. "You...bitch!" She lunges at me from across the counter but I was quick to dodge.
Chan pulls her back and shoves her back before facing her.
Steph elbows me and whispers, "$10 says they break up."
"It all makes sense now."
"Chan, babe. Please listen to me." Olivia pleads. "She's lying."
"No," Chan says firmly. "You're always putting me second. You're always asking to go to expensive restaurants and to think I was spending so much on you. Tell me something," he takes a step towards her, completely towering over her. "Did Jake treat you well?"
"What?"
"Did he tell you to come here with me? Did he also tell you I was also going here?"
"Wha....what are you talking about?"
And then I see a different person come out. A new person who I wanted to know so desperately about. He runs his hand through his curls and smirks. The man actually smriked. "Why do you think I wanted to come here, Olivia?"
"You asked me on a date," Olivia replies. "What does this have to do with-"
"I know about you and Jake."
Oh shit. I watch Olivia's face turn into horror as she opens her mouth. "You're the one always yapping about your music all the time. I don't get what the big deal is, you're never going to make it."
I saw red. My blood was boiling. "Fermati!" I march over to Olivia as she blinks at me. "You do not get to judge a person based on their profession. You do not get to make assumptions. YOU do not put negative things in their mind to the point they want to end their lives."
But she rolls her eyes. "Please, you just had a scratch-"
I shove my shirt up on my arm, showing her the long scar going up to my elbow. "Does this look like a scratch to you that YOU caused?"
"What the..." Chan says and looks at Olivia, who's seething in anger. "I though you said she fell."
"She's lying," Olivia replied, her eyes narrowed at me.
"Oh, so you're saying that I magically got a knife and stabbed myself, making a huge line on my arm?"
"You bitch!" Olivia lunges at me but Steph stands in front of me and pushes her back.
"No one is fighting in our cafe, okay?" Steph announces then points at Olivia. "As for you, get out. You're no longer welcomed here."
"What?"
"Better yet, you're black listed from this cafe."
Olivia huffs and stomps her way out of the shop. "You alright?" Steph asks
"Yeah, thanks," I smiled and she gets behind the counter, immediately apologizing to the customers.
"Hey."
I slightly jump at his voice and turn around.
"Are you okay?"
"I should be asking you that."
He scoffs. "I'll be fine."
I nod. "Alright, well. I gotta get back to work." I make it two steps when he calls my name.
"Grace."
I turn. "Yeah?"
He looks at me, almost as if he wanted to ask me something. But he just shakes his head. "Nothing. Have a good day at work." And then he's gone.
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It was Friday and rush hour was just finishing when something catches my eye outside. "Che due coglioni?" I watch as Olivia tries to kiss Chan and he keeps pushing her back.
"Is she for real?" Steph says.
"I've had enough of this," I snap, taking my apron off and walking towards the door. When I open the door, I hear her crying.
"Chan, please. You've gotta believe me," she wails.
"Olivia, what the fuck is wrong with you?" I say.
Chan's eyes flicker towards me, almost lighting up making my heart skip a beat. "This doesn't concern you," Olivia hisses at me.
"Porca miseria, questa cagna!" She blinks at me surprised and I stand in front of her. "This man," I point to Chan, "has been nothing but loving towards you, has given you the time he should've spent elsewhere other than your stupid ass. You," I jab at her chest, "do not have the right to control someone as kind as him. You," I jab at her chest again making her stumble back a step, "do not get to do that to him."
"Grace," I hear Chan say from behind me.
"Do you even realize how hard it is to chase your dreams when no one belives in you? Of course, you don't because all you get to do is use others and degrade them till they have nothing left in them."
"Grace."
"What?!" I snap as I turn around, sniffling. Was I crying? But I don't get to touch my face as I feel a pair of warm hands cup my cheeks. "Cha-"
His lips. Oh my god his lips. My hands stay at my sides because I don't know where to put them. As he lets go, I look up at him. "I've been meaning to do that."
"What?" I blinked, perplexed.
"She's gone," Steph's voice makes us jump apart a step away from each other and she comes to my side. "Jeez, she's like a lizard, always coming in between."
I snort which leads to laughter as she beams at me. "Come inside! I'll make you guys something to drink!"
I watch as she heads inside before turning to him. "So..."
"So."
"What did you mean by what you said earlier?" I asked.
"Look-"
"Why did you kiss me?"
He sighs. "I never liked Olivia. She was just there, I guess to fill that void," he flicks his eyes down at me, "but that void was never filled."
I scoff, not believing what he just said. "So you mean to say, that you dated her-"
"I never da-"
"-just so you could dump her and then coincidentally you thought that a kiss would solve all the problems?"
"Look, Grace-"
"No," I say firmly. "You look here, Chan. I'm not the one to messed around with. And you were the least out of all the people I knew that would do something like this." His eyes widen at my comment and raises his hand but I put my hand up, stopping him. "No. I can't look at you right now."
And with that, I turn around and leave. Steph gives me one look once I'm inside and immediately gives me space as I go back to refilling the ice machine.
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A few weeks later, I finally had a few days off. I wanted to destress and just chill and relax in my apartment. But what I didn't know was that Chan would be standing at my doorway looking like he had been run over by a truck while I was in a tanktop and pj shorts with a bag of chips on my hand.
"W-what are you doing here?" I asked, clutching the chip bag.
"Can I...can I come in?" His voice trembled.
"Yeah, come in," I stand aside to let him in. As he walks by me, the same vanilla and smoke scent fills my nostrils, making me a bit dizzy.
"Do you want anything to drink? Water? Soda?" I ask, closing the door behind me.
"Water, thanks," he replies taking a seat on my couch.
Fuck. Never in my 22 years of my life, I imagined a man in my living room. Let alone Chan, the 28 year old man that I had been crushing on since I was 19. I hand him the glass of water and sit beside him.
"Nice place."
"Thanks," I replied. After a beat, I say, "So, what brings you here?"
"Olivia paid a visit."
"Oh?"
"And smashed all the windows of my car."
"What?!" I knew she would stoop low but to this level? "Are you okay?"
His eyes flicks up at me. "That's funny."
"Huh? What is?"
"Olivia would've asked if my car was okay. She wouldn't even ask me if I was alright."
"Well, she's a bitch," I huff, crossing my arms.
He snorts. "She did teach me one thing though." He turns his body sonhe's facing me. "To never take what's already in front of you for granted."
Holy fucking greek god. Why does this dude have to be so damn pretty? "You're lucky you're attractive, Chan. Any woman would be happy to have you."
"Look, about the kiss then-"
But I stand up. "I'm going to make some tea." I hurriedly walk into the kitchen and immediately fill the kettle with water. It was a good distraction-
An arm snakes it's way around my waist. I gasp, dropping the kettle in the sink and turn around. "What are you doing?!
"Why do you think I kept coming back to your cafe?"
"Because you like the cakes we make?"
"I came to see you, even on busy days where I could catch a glimpse of you working behind the counter refilling stoxk items. Once, Steph caught me staring at you and made me buy 10 pastries," he explains snorting. "Let's just say my friends got a piece each."
"Why are you-"
"-telling you?" He finishes my sentence. "Because I like you."
"I'm sorry, what?" My ears are deceiving me.
He giggles, poking my cheek. "I like you, Grace. I have for a long time now."
"How long?"
"3 years."
I blink at his answer. "I..I... don't know what to say."
"You don't have to say anything."
I look at him. "But you just told me you like me. How do you expect me to not say anything? To say that I like you as well?"
"Grace, you're not obligated to say- wait, what?" Turning his head, he blinks at me.
"What?" I try so hard to not smile.
"You just said you like me."
"No, I didn't," I lied, hiding my smile.
"Grace," his hand comes to cup my face, lifting my head to meet his eyes. "Tell me before I lose my mind."
"What happens if you lose your mind?"
His gaze hardens. "You don't want to know."
I wet my lips, partially opening my mouth. "Maybe I do." I hear him growl before he smashes his lips on mine. This time, neither of us push away. His tongue darts out and I open my mouth. His hand rub my arms, up and down. "Channie," I whimper, heat pooling between my thighs.
"Yeah, baby?" He says, his thumb brushing my lower lip.
"Can we, uhm, can we take this to the bedroom?"
He chuckles as he slides his arms around my ass hoisting me up. "Say less."
He practically sprints into my room and gently lays me down on my bed. His eye catches my blanket, the pink poka dots on the white colored sheet. "What?" I ask.
"Nothing," he shakes his head and takes his shirt off.
My breath hitches in my throat. Holy fuck. I knew he was fit but this.....holy fucking shit. Then his takes his jeans off, leaving a lot for my imagination when I see the buldge in his boxers as he takes those off too.
"Now you."
I sit up and take my tanktop off. My breasts bounce as I had no bra on. "Fuck me, Grace. You're beautiful."
My cheeks heat at the compliment and my arms come up automatically to hide myself but his hand stops me. "Don't hide yourself," he said as he hovers above me. "Fuck, I'm trying so hard to hold myself back."
"Don't," I gulp. "Don't hold yourself back."
"You sure? I don't want to hurt you."
I narrow my eyes and pull him down by his neck. "Channie if you don't fuck me in the next 5 seconds, I'm going to burn your clothes so you'd have to walk back home, butt naked."
"Feisty, damn," he groans as he takes my shorts off leaving. "As much as I would love to taste you, I need to feel you around my cock."
"Please," I whine.
He smashes his lips on me again, this time with desperation as he settles in between my legs. I feel the tip at the enterance of my cunt. "Ready?"
I nod. He lines himself before slowly pushing in. "Oh, shit- you're fucking tight."
I close my eyes, feeling the delicious burn as fully bottoms himself inside. "Mm, Channie. You feel so goo-" I get cut off as he pulls back and slams his hips.
"Yeah, fuck, you cunt feels so good," he pants and grabs my left breast. "And I love these, fuck, perfect."
He sets a fast pace and doesn't stop snapping his hips. He pinches my nipple, causing the familiar knot to form in my lower belly. "Fuck, I feel you clenching. Are you close?"
I moan in response and his thrusts pick up speed. The only sounds resonating in the room was the snap of his hips. "I'm going to cum," I moan. He brings his hand down to my clit, rubbing it with his thumb. And that was all it took for me to go over the edge. "Channie!"
"Oh fuck, milk my cock, baby. Make a mess," he groans as his thrusts become brutal and I'm pretty sure my poor cervix is bruised. "I'm coming, fuck, I'm gonna fill your tight little pussy. You want that? You want me to fill you up and make you mine?"
"Yes, yes! Make me yours, Chan."
"Fuck," he voice becomes strained as veins protrude in his neck and he stills, emptying himself inside me, painting my inner walls.
As we catch our breath, I notice he hasn't pulled out. "What are you doing?" I ask, still out of breath.
He suddenly grabs my thighs as I feel him harden. "Oh my god."
He grins, licking his lips. "Up for round 2, mi amore?"
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A/N: this was for @gracebang143 hope you enjoy :)
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iwanttobepersephone · 2 months
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I'M GONNA SCREAM
WHY ARE ALL THE GOOD STUDY ABROAD PROGRAMS TO THE NETHERLANDS SO DAMNED EXPENSIVE
1500??? 7000???????? EXCUSE ME??????????
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myriadsystem · 1 year
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Hate the concept of "business days" for online services. What the fuck do you mean my payment will be processed in 3-5 business days its a fucking program that does it?? The bot needs weekends too now?? Fuck off
#personal#like i know theres not an actual employee youve hired to process every individual order or payment or claim#i know there might be a support team but there is not a dedicated team for this particular action#im looking at you paypal#youre a fucking online payments service. you do not need to TAKE WEEKENDS OFF IM SO FUCKING ANGRY#i bought this gorgeous secondhand piece of clothing from a fb marketplace buy/sell/swap group#my payment was sent on the morning of a saturday. the seller wont ship until my payment comes through to them (fair)#but paypal. my detested. now they wont ship it first thing monday as expected because apparently you take weekends off#so they wont receive my payment until atleast wednesday if you decide to be kind. so they wont ship until atleast thursday. if im lucky#and i wont recieve the item until next week when it could have been here and the entire transaction could have been over by friday.#at the latest.#it makes no sense????#its like. i get ubereats giftcards for myself when i need a pick me up right. i purchase them.online and i get them recieved digitally#to my email within seconds right? except for the one time. they were sold out. of DIGITAL GIFTCARDS#that they GENERATE THE CODES FOR UPON PURCHASE. how do you sell out of a digital product made on request#it doesnt make sense. again if there were teams of real people that moderated this kind of shit yeah obviously they need a break#you get more leeway and patience from me if you have an actual team. but this doesnt#why the fuck are you holding my payment paypal??? huh??? id better see it go through monday morning since youve held it for three days#youre an online fucking company you dont nees to wait for busineas days. send my.fucking money where ive sent it days ago already#im so so pissed#if anyone has a real answer as to why online companies with no human staff in that department need to take a weekend. please lmk
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wickershells · 1 year
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Sigh. vent time u know the drill
#i havent been sleeping well recently. and ive been losing a lot of daylight whenever i do#my brain feels all mush-like. i just cant think of the right words for anything. its like im dreaming#ive missed the deadline for applications so theres another year gone. im so stagnant my life is idle#ive never been more desperate for spring before in my life#i want to go places and see things because i am so miserable stuck here. so i tell myself it will change once i can leave#but i dont have money. and i cant keep a job being as unstable and sensitive as i am i need to get better first#but in order to get better i need to spend money that i dont have#i dont think i was supposed to be happy. i dont think life ever planned that for me#i know that is such a defeatist and ugly attitude to have but truly i am just so unhappy all the time and i have been for years#realistically speaking im never going to be able to keep myself afloat i dont know what to do with that#and im the loneliest ive ever been#i try reaching out and i meet nothing#i know how hard it is to love me which is why no one really does. and i dont say that to be self-pitying#im so incompatible with everyone i love even my own mother. i keep trying to stop being so sensitive but ive been trying to get thicker#skin my entire life and it has never worked. i am perpetually upset no matter how hard i try i dont think i was built to still be here#i convinced myself i wouldnt be and now i am and i dont know how to deal with that. so many things i never preserved or procured because#i figured i would be long gone by now. that was a bit silly of me. but now ive left myself nothing. im left with nothing#everything i had hoped for as a little kid is ruined now all because of me. i have irreparably destroyed my life i mean that#and i cant handle the inevitability of grief and its growing closer and closer as everyone gets older and older#which is why in an act of pure selfishness id rather let everyone else deal with it. in the nebulous sense#god i just. ive spent year after year trying to fix my life and nothing has worked. not even close#im trying not to believe that its futile but deep down i think i already do#well. whatever#mine
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yusuke-of-valla · 3 months
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I need to throw myself into a walll
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meow-moment · 1 year
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i bet if walter white had tumblr hed be like "i am the one who blogs haha"
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🔮 purple-queen Follow
just got a beautiful ring from the store, can't wait to show it off here!
#my purchases #marie speaks
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🌶️ capncook
finally scored a new job can i get a hell yeah. back to making stacks dawg
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🪨 hankschrader4 🔁 flynwyte Follow
🏎️ flynwyte Follow
HELP A DISABLED TEEN'S FATHER AFFORD CANCER TREATMENT!
I didn't want to have to make this post, but deadlines are closing in and I don't have many options left.
My name is Walter White Junior, and my father was recently diagnosed with cancer. He's been battling for a few months now, and he wants us not to worry about him, but he can't keep pulling money out of nowhere. I've done the math, and I've estimated that he needs $12k to afford all the treatment he needs.
Any donations are appreciated! You can donate directly at my website, or donate on p@yp@l, under the username flynwyte.
407/12,000
(do not tag as donation!)
#donation
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🐓 los-pollos-hermanos Follow
yo yo yo whaddup chicken lovas!!! were bringin back the 2-for-1 honey mustard wings combo, with that signature taste you cant help but love! get it today, bitches!
🏎️ flynwyte Follow
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🔮 purple-queen Follow
okay, you know what? No. I'm sick of this. Kleptomania is a valid mental disorder, and if i have to explain to you why, then i will.
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#marie speaks #rant
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🌶️ capncook
bored on the job man its got me thinkin...
#vent post #delete later
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👊 2co Follow
i can't say shit around my grandpa bro. i make a comment about the lakers one time and its 😤🛎️🛎️🛎️😤🛎️🛎️😤😤🛎️🛎️🛎️🛎️🛎️ im fuckin SICK OF IT!!
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🐓 los-pollos-hermanos Follow
i miss her so much man...
#vent post #delete later
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🐓 los-pollos-hermanos Follow
We would like to apologize for our social media intern's mistake. As a token of our apology, we are offering a 10% discount on any chicken order if you mention this post. Have a finger-lickin' day!
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🧪 h31s3nb3rg Follow
I am the one who blogs haha
#heisenposting
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😺 meow-moment
Who said that
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medicinemane · 8 months
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Always hungry, always broke, and always having my mom toss a new catastrophe my way... but never actually being given control of the money despite the fact that I've been able to hold on to my stimulus checks all these years only spending them on emergencies, but she blows her disability and wracks up credit card debt
But see... she'd feel like a child if she had to ask for money for things... it's much better when she has full control so she can do things like spend $300 on microtransactions in a single month
Then my grandma gets mad at me for having to help with money cause I don't have a job, and if I just had a job it would be fine (and no doubt I'm pretty shit for not working despite not having anything wrong with me)
When I get stuff cleaned up my mom just uses it as a new spot to dump trash so... there's no point
I provide nothing to the world, I have no talents or skills, everything I do is wrong, and I'm just kind of a drain on the world despite having nothing stopping me from actually doing shit except my poor character
...kinda hemming and hawing on ordering this cause even $18 is a hell of a lot of money to spend on killing myself unless I'm actually gonna do it. If I get it and then keep putting it off... well then that money would have been real better spent elsewhere
...but on the other hand this can't keep continuing... maybe I can take the money I was trying to save up to buy a new mic so I can actually talk to people and spend it on this instead
#then there's the bathroom which both... I've asked plumbers to help with over and over when they've been doing stuff like#installing the water heater or installing my mom's new toilet... but they just... never do#and then... I've asked my mom a number of times to get someone out but she never does#and now I kinda can't even ask because like... ok; the pipe's got mold in it but I guess I can be like 'that's why I asked you here'#but also one of the cat's had diarrhea and decided to keep going next to the toilet instead of the cat box; which is probably my fault#but now... I can't fucking keep up with it and... I can't ask a plumber out with cat shit on the floor#but I can't fucking deal with it; I keep meaning to on trash day; but I'm always too tired and also only have 2 sponges left to deal with i#and I'm just such filth that I haven't even been able to bother changing my bedsheets in like a year#which honestly isn't even that abnormal; that's how it's always been even when I was little#I don't know... I'm just such a worthless fuck up#and people will sometimes offer money but it's like... money doesn't help; I've got that stimulus check sitting in the bank#these are systemic problems I need to fix#but I can't; it's beyond me; I give up; I need to die#nothing of value will be lost#people think it will; but they're wrong#and maybe I'm also just a selfish asshole like everyone's always saying about suicidal people#I don't know... I just keep getting worse; and then I adjust stuff to make it keep working; but then I get worse#I need to hurry up and die#and I finally have a method with a high enough success rate so... probably should bite the bullet and order it#especially when it has legit uses so there's a cover story#man I'm sick of being hungry; sick of being so fucking worthless and incompetent that I can't make myself food once I'm out of cheese powde#and even if I ask for help... well my mom's not hungry so fuck me#I need to die already; I'm so inadequate and never get a damn thing right#everything I do I fucking fail
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deadsetobsessions · 4 months
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“I ate paint once,” Danny nonchalantly threw out in the middle of game night.
The entire table stopped. Heads whipped towards Danny.
“Yeah, me too. Cardamom yellow was my favorite. Ugly as hell but the chemicals just tasted right.” Tim replied, using the distraction to nab some of Bruce’s money. Monopoly money, that is. Everyone’s heads snapped towards Tim, only Cass and Danny (who was part of the scheme) caught him cheating.
“Really? I think mine was those spray can blue cosmos paint. But that might have been more my thing for space than the actual taste.”
“WHY WERE YOU EATING PAINT?!” Dick asked, looking like he wanted to lunge over the table and shake Danny until he puked out paint. Bruce looked like he was about to have a heart attack.
“Yeah, what the fuck, Tim?” Jason snickered.
“In my defense,” Danny grinned. “I was left unsupervised. Also, Steph, you owe me $24 in rent.”
“Ugh! I’m almost out of money! Can’t you loan me some, Alfred?”
“I am sorry, Miss Stephanie, you are not qualified for another loan. In fact, one of your properties is about to be confiscated as per the collateral agreement.”
“Noooo!” Stephanie made dramatic dying noises.
“What was your excuse, Timothy?” Damian asked, eyes glued to the board and determined to win the game.
“Hey, I was probably less supervised than Danny was.”
“Yeah,” Danny perked up. “My parents brought us down to their lab all of the time. Taught us a lot of stuff.”
“Really? Like what?” Duke asked, casually slapping away Tim’s sneaky hands.
“Oh, like what a rocket launcher sounded like up close! And how to build a laser gun! Oh! And what human organs looked like when they’re fresh!” Danny chirped, collecting his money from a stunned Stephanie’s hands. He looked up.
“Oh, don’t worry! I at least learned what not to do when it comes to lab safety. And we wore hazmat suits to protect ourselves from the radiation.” Danny smiled in a ditzy fashion as the table fell silent in a horrified manner. Cass tapped his arm amusedly, but allowed his bullshit to stand. After all, it’s not like he lied.
“Radiation?” Duck’s voice raised a couple of octaves. Oh yeah, Danny’s going to laugh about that pitch for a long while.
“Organs?!” Jason’s hands closed around the plastic house he was holding rather forcefully.
“Do you even know what basic lab safety practices are, Danny?” Damian demanded, finally looking up with brows furrowed. He rolled the dice and grabbed a mystery card. He gets $100 from Alfred.
“How old were you??” Duke asked.
“Like… 8, when they first brought me in?”
“Eight.” Bruce rumbled, slipping into a more Batman like persona. When Danny sent him a confused look, Bruce straightened back into his Bruce persona. “Wow, they must have trusted you a lot!”
“Sure?”
“What were their names again?” Stephanie asked sweetly, Cass nodding at him.
“Jack and Maddie Fenton.” Not that they’ll find them here, considering his parents are dead and in another universe.
“Cool, cool, cool!” Stephanie blinked, beaming as her hands formed lethal fists underneath the table.
Danny blinked and tilted his head in an unassuming way, pretending like he had no idea what Stephanie was thinking of. He sneakily handed over $600 to Cass in order to complete his monopoly on his side of the board.
Danny stood up and spread his hands out, one hand clutching his new found victory.
"Well, lady and gents, you've all been floundering against the inevitable tide of capitalism. I am here, as a reminder that you can never win against the hopelessness that will be your financial ruin! I, Danny Fenton, have obtained a quarter of the board and therefore have won against even your best efforts!" He cackled, holding up his fan of properties triumphantly. He shot a mischievous grin at Cass, who held up a solemn thumbs up in support for his monetary takeover.
"... Danny, are you... planning on a career in villainy?" Bruce asked, after a brief and total wave of shocked silence. Damian looked like he was having a conniption at having been bested, unknowingly. Yeah, Danny was disarming like that.
"Yeah, that was concerning." Tim piped up, nabbing a ten from a shell-shocked Damian.
"Hey! The Riddler gives surprisingly good monologues! And he's really loud, so it's hard not to pick up on things. Duke, your turn." Danny sat back down, pouting. The villainy comment was a little too close to his fears.
"Damn it." Duke, who had rolled, landed smack middle of Danny's territory. He handed over a sheaf of bills to a grinning Danny.
"Wait a minute! You have cheated!" Damian bolted upwards from his seat, finally done running through the purchases he remembered Danny making. "You acquired that property not within the games' rules!"
"Okay, first of all, the rule book is a suggestion, like lab safety rules," Danny saw the others open their mouths to protest, but he quickly shut it down. "Second, there's totally no rules about selling and buying places from a private owner so suck on it. And thirdly? Cass sold it to me, so you all can take it up with her."
"Diabolical!" Damian muttered indignantly.
"... Dammit." Dick sighed, falling back into the chair and balancing on its two legs. He couldn't say anything, considering his current of bankruptcy.
"Danny. Danny, I'll buy a property from you." Jason said, eyeing one of Danny's other properties near his own cluster.
"What do you have that would interest me?" Danny asked, falling back into his Vlad-like imitation.
"Ew, don't do that," Steph reached over to jab him in the arm.
"Yeah, Jason, what do you have?" Duke said, the lovely subtle instigator that he is.
"Red Hood's signature."
The others blue-screen, gaping at the actual audacity Jason had to offer up something that would take him no effort. Danny, prepared with a poker face that came with lying straight to Jazz's ever perceptive eyes about whether he nabbed the last of her ice cream or not, was prepared.
"Red Hood? The condom guy working out of the... um. Upper East Side?" Danny asked, pretending to hesitate. He knows where Jason operated. That doesn't mean he couldn't simply pretend otherwise. For science, of course.
...
...
...
The table howled with laughter, Jason's indignant spluttering unable to say anything against Danny's wide eyed look of innocence. Cass leaned against the table, chuckles falling out of her mouth and eyes crinkled in mirth. Dick had fallen out of his chair, helplessly wheezing on the floor. Duke is hiding his face in his hands, mirroring Bruce's pose as they both shake from silent laughter. Damian is smirking, wicked and sharp as he smugly stared at Jason. Stephanie and Tim are leaning against each other, repeating "the CONDOM GUY" in alternating and increasingly louder voices. Alfred had a smile on his face and a tight grip on the bills in front of him that betrayed his amusement.
"He's a crime lord!" Jason exclaimed, indignant.
"Uh, okay. Well, I mean, why would I want a crime lord's signature? I don't want to be on his radar. Or echolocation or whatever. He's... a Bat, right? That's what you guys call that group, yeah?"
"How do you know the Rogues better than the vigilantes?!" Jason glared at his unhelpful family. Those assholes better prepare for a load of rubber bullets the next time they're on patrol near Crime Alley.
"Hey, it's not my fault the vigilantes here are unsociable. Maybe if they monologued more, I'd know who they are."
"Wouldn't- wouldn't that make them more villain like?" Tim asked, stuttering from his laughter.
"I dunno?" Danny replied, enjoying his the family's unabashed joy. "I mean, they're pretty legit and they help people already so I guess they don't need to be sociable... but still I swear I haven't heard anything about Batman other than that he grunts and is mean towards criminals."
Is mean towards criminals, Duke mouthed at a recovering Dick who was in the process of heaving himself back up. It sent him careening back down to the floor with restrained giggles. Cass tapped Danny, reminding him to eat some food.
"Tt. Of course not. They're efficient at their jobs and have no need to be seen as welcoming to criminals." Damian puffed up.
"Yeah, but they've gotta feel safe, right?" Danny shrugged as he plucked a cookie from the cookie platter. "The... one with the sword, what was it?"
"Robin." Damian supplied, eyes narrowed and trained on him.
"Yeah, the baby bird. The kids think his swords are cool so they trust him. But like, the others? The flippy blue one? Not so much."
"Wait," Dick said from the floor. "They don't trust Nightwing?"
"Nah, they trust him to protect them, but he has a history of bringing the kids to the police, you know?"
"What's wrong with that?"
Danny shrugged. "ACAB. But also because everybody knows that half the guys in the GCPD and CPS are child traffickers."
"Wait, what?" Jason and Tim straightened.
Bruce piped in, the emotional whiplash of amusement to concern to amusement to concern visibly making itself known on the man's baffled face. "I thought Batman and Commissioner Gordon took care of that?"
"Sure, the obvious ones." Danny hesitated. Well, he's pretty sure they think he's a meta so... "There's... a meta trafficking ring that they're a part of. That's. That's kind of what I was running from."
Danny looked up pleadingly. Cass placed a hand on his arm in comfort, not knowing that he was fibbing about running from them.
Danny was on the streets helping his own Alley metas to run from them.
Danny is as feral as she was, and that meant he could hide just as much as she could read off of him. Cass was the best and he felt kind of bad about lying to her, successfully or not.
"Uh. Some people said you know Batman, Bruce. I know- uh, that might not be the case but if you do, could you ask him to look into it?" Danny made his eyes tear up. "And maybe he wouldn't care about me much, I mean, I know he doesn't really like metas but if he helps out, I could totally like, leave the city once the kids are safe, promise."
Ooh, Danny put a little too much sincerity into that. He could practically hear the hearts breaking in the game room as everyone glared at Bruce.
"You won't have to leave."
"... Promise?" And Danny's voice was a little too desperate, too hopeful, because Bruce's eyes tugged down in sadness.
"Promise." He rumbled, all Bruce Wayne and all Batman. Danny's core warmed. Danny also saw the rest of the family's faces darken in pure agreement. And partial wrath.
"Yeah! We'll kick Batman's ass if he even thought about kicking you out!" Stephanie proclaimed.
"He's far more proficient in combat than you are, Brown." Damian immediately leapt to Batman's defense and that was that.
Well, later, as Danny was "sleeping" and Phantom was hovering in the cave, invisible and intangible, he got confirmation that his Alley meta kids were going to be safe, soon.
After all, the entire Batclan was suiting up and baying for blood, with Oracle's all encompassing presence behind them, fingers reaching for their enemies' weak points.
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autistic-shaiapouf · 9 months
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Legitimately feels like I just got toyed with by no one telling me how expensive the car was until after I decided I liked it
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envy-of-the-apple · 3 months
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Sun Eats Moon
Dark!Gojo Satoru x reader
Word count: 9.1k
Part two: Earth Kills Moon
Synopsis: Your boss takes on Gojo Satoru as his newest client. Much to your relief, he doesn't seem to recognize you.
(Warnings: noncon, dubcon, rough sex, oral sex, bullying, harassment, one mention of choking, penetrative sex, afab!reader, coercion, forced relationships, implied baby trapping attempt, hint of pregnancy kink)
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You wanted to quit the second you read the name. 
You should have. It would have been so easy to hand in your two weeks, tell your boss that you just couldn't. Or maybe you could have convinced one of the other paralegals to take your place. 
It's pathetic. Almost a decade had passed and you still felt yourself slink into the girl you once were, rolling under his thumb, utterly helpless. You should be better than that. You worked so hard to reach where you are now. 
You were different now, you told yourself over and over again. You were older, smarter. Besides, it'd been a decade, would he even remember you?
It's Higuruma who notices your restless fingers. You shouldn't have underestimated him, despite how exhausted he looks, nothing goes past your boss. He asks about it when you two are seated in a beige room, waiting for the client. 
"Is everything alright?" 
You're still staring out the window. How high were you? 16 stories, maybe even higher. Resentment, you can feel it rise up your throat, build throughout your body. Of course, he has fancy cars, pretty buildings, and limitless money. Men like him will never know what it's like to have nothing. All men were born equal. What a fucking joke. 
Higuruma shifts, and you jolt out of your thoughts. "Yes," you console, "apologies, I'm just tired." 
The lawyer hums, and you're not sure if he believes you or not. Before he can say anything, the frosted doors open. The rest of the legal team comes in, sitting at the long table you and Higuruma inhabited. 
He comes in last. He'd always had a liking for theatrics. 
Not much had changed within a decade. He was taller, bigger. He'd switched out of his high school uniform, opting for something more business-friendly. He still made heads turn. Became the center of attention. 
It's his smile that throws you. Sincere, real. Lingering on his face like extravagant jewelry. Hard not to notice. 
You react better than you anticipated. You don't shake or tremble or cry when he passes you. You just squeeze your fists, bunching your skirt in your palm. It helps. 
He sits down, right at the end, so everyone can see him. One foot elegantly crossed over the other. When he tilts his head, his soft white hair threatens to shift over brilliant blue eyes. 
"Well, I'm sure you don't need me to explain why we're all here." A few chuckles resonate from the small group. "Let's just do our best and hope nothing gets too out of hand."
His eyes slide over to meet yours, and you steel yourself for his eyes to widen. For something wicked and cruel and nasty to sink into his face. 
Nothing. 
Gojo Satoru maintains that same smile. The blaring sun. Painfully innocent. His gaze lasts barely a second before moving to the next face, and the next, and the next. 
"I look forward to working with all of you."                                     
𖤓
If you could describe Gojo Satoru in one word, it would be: celestial. 
He's like a shining star. Brighter than the sun. Everywhere he went, he was bound to attract attention. Much like how the Earth is drawn towards the sun, people are drawn towards Gojo Satoru. It's the natural order. 
But, if an insignificant planet resists the Sun's gravitational force, it'll get crushed. You learned this the hard way. 
Gojo had always been in your class for years. The third year was no different. Despite the commonality, you two never talked to each other. You had no reason to. Until the vending machine gave you two cartons, and you suddenly remembered from an overheard conversation that Gojo liked chocolate milk too. 
"Want it?" You hold it out to him during lunch break. He was in the middle of a boisterous conversation with his friend. They did intimidate you, but you had no reason to be scared. It's not like they were bullies.
Gojo's sunglasses dip down. He eyes what you're holding in your hand, before his gaze drifts back up to you. 
"The machine gave me extra," you supply, "do you want it?" 
"Oh, sure," he says after a moment. Your hands brush. "Thanks." 
You nod, and then you walk back to the cafeteria. It was meaningless. A favor between acquaintances. He was helping you more than you helped him. You didn't want to carry chocolate milk around in your backpack. You forgot about the interaction within a few hours. 
𖤓
The meeting ends hours later. When you stumble home, it's barely evening but you can still feel the stress creeping through your legs and arms. 
You go straight to your laptop. Fumbling through the keyboard, desperate, searching. 
He's famous. Of course, he is. In his mid-twenties, but already a multi-millionaire. The head of an extremely elite family. Your eyes scan picture after picture after picture. Photos of him drinking with models in skimpy bikinis. Fancy cars. Huge houses. Private jets. Gojo Satoru: the man behind Gojo Co., Gojo Satoru and supermodel Menza hinted at relationship, Gojo Satoru, Gojo Satoru, Gojo Satoru, Gojo Satoru. 
You pull away when it starts to burn, when the rage and sorrow become too much. He has everything. Everything he could want. He made you go through hell for months, and yet he never got punished for it. The universe rewards him with lavishness you'd never be able to touch. 
It's not fair. It's not fair. It's not fucking fair. 
Through your blinds, the sun happily shines. 
𖤓
You don't notice it until it becomes painfully unbearing.
Gojo calls you by your name now (until that day you bet he didn't even know you existed). He's like a ghost, constantly appearing out of nowhere to sling an arm around your shoulder, eager to chase off any of your friends to talk to you about things that don't matter.
He constantly offers to walk you home (and then Gojo ignores your refusals and does it anyway). It stays like that for a few days, never bordering beyond friendliness. You think he's harmless. Maybe he just hasn't had someone genuinely do a nice favor for him. Besides, you're flattered by the attention. Even you can be swayed by the pull of Gojo Satoru. It feels nice to be wanted. 
You reason it'll just be for another week. A week later, you two will be nothing but acquaintances, sometimes exchanging quick smiles during class. 
It doesn't truly dawn on you as to what he's doing until he comes out and says it. 
"What?" Because you must have misheard him. 
"We should," he says, not even bothering to repeat himself, "I mean, we're practically dating already. Let's just make it official." 
You stare at him. As always, he's utterly beautiful. The light of the setting sun makes his skin glow gold. Whenever he's walking you home is one of the rare times he removes those sunglasses. His eyes are like jewels, pretty things that you wish were yours. 
You laugh. It's high and panicky because you still think he's joking. He doesn't laugh with you. You stop. 
"Oh-oh, I'm sorry Gojo-I wasn't-I didn't think. I'm just not...interested in dating anyone right now. It's not you! I think-I think you're great, but it's just the wrong time, and school is getting so much busier and-" you keep rambling, coming up with excuse after excuse because you're convinced Gojo would cut you off with an awkward laugh, tell you it's fine. 
He doesn't do either, letting your flounderings get more and more pathetic. His smile had dropped. You can't read his expression anymore. 
Eventually, you grow quiet, standing with him in that silence. When that gets too much, you timidly tell him to have a goodnight and walk home. He doesn't follow, staying rooted to the sidewalk where you left him. You're not running away, you tell yourself over and over again. And yet, you can't help but feel relief as soon as you can't feel his eyes. 
Don't resist the Sun. It'll crush you. 
𖤓
It was something minuscule. 
Barely considered legal work. The case would most likely be finished in a couple of weeks. The defendant had nothing on Gojo Satoru, at least from what you and the other paralegals could see. You highly doubted it would even go to court. Higuruma always had a knack for bringing anyone to the table. Gojo would be let off from whatever he did without a hitch. No punishment. Just like always. 
"Word of advice, don't think about what happens in the private sector," Higuruma says, over whiskey. 
The firm was celebrating another victory at a fancy bar. You were still stewing over the face of that young woman's face when the judge ruled in your client's favor. She looked heartbroken. You can still remember the sleazy smile your client had given her. 
"It's a job," he says, "do it. Boost your resume, and get out." 
He takes another dainty sip of his glass. Tonight, the circles underneath his eyes seem even darker. "You're a young kid. Do something else with your life." 
When he offers to buy you a round, you accept. You think about that night sometimes, and you wonder if Higuruma wished someone else would have given him that advice when he was younger. 
Do the job, and get out. Easier said than done. Especially when the job involved Gojo Satoru. 
Associating with him was dangerous, you knew that firsthand, especially when he was interested in something you had. You'd left, but that wouldn't save you. The space of decades would not help. 
Burn Gojo once, he won't forgive you. Burn Gojo twice? You don't think there's anyone alive who did that. 
Over the coming days, you expect something from him. It's a nagging feeling in your stomach. The delayed response to a gunshot. Dread. You expect him to snap. Push. Break. 
He never does. Gojo remains pliant, the same to you as he remains to your boss. There's no additional touching, no disgusting nicknames, no scathing looks. Nothing. 
You don't get the confirmation until a week later, when Gojo stops you near the elevator. 
"Higuruma's...assistant, right? Sorry, never got your name," he says, and you steel yourself because the two of you are alone and here it comes but if you yell loudly enough maybe-
"He asked for some paperwork, and I finally found it for him." Gojo hands you a stack of sheets with a cheery smile. "You won't mind giving that to him, will ya? Thanks!" 
Just as quickly as he arrives, he leaves, shoes clicking down the hall as he goes. You can only stare at his rescinding back, the palpable feeling of relief nearly making your knees buckle. 
The best news you could have possibly received. Gojo Satoru had completely forgotten about you. 
When you got home later that evening, the rain was heavy, and the sun was nowhere to be seen. 
𖤓
You don't have proof it was him. 
It's unjust to accuse people of things they didn't do. You lack any evidence. It could have easily started by itself. You'd always been meek and timid. People were bound to take advantage of that. 
But the timing was just too perfect for it to not be caused by him. 
In the weeks following the incident with Gojo, school went from tolerant to hell. It started small, at first. Tiny. Unoticable. Insignificant. Some people (Gojo's lackeys, you'd later realize), would nudge you as they passed you by the halls. They apologized, mid-laugh, and in the beginning, you truly thought they were sincere. Then, the nudges turned into pushes, then shoves. That's when you knew you had a target on your back. 
At first, you found it kind of hard to believe. Bullying? It sounded so childish. Something reserved for petty middle schoolers. You were in your final year of high school. You were already an adult. You laughed it off, for a bit. Mostly because it was so ridiculous. Only when it starts becoming more severe, more apparent that you were his target, do you start taking things more seriously.
There was no proof, but everyone knew it was Gojo. And being on Gojo's bad side wasn't something people were willing to risk. One by one, your friends started to disappear, reducing their involvement by sending strained smiles during passing period. The more stubborn ones who were more adamant about staying by your side were chased away too. They'd skip school for a few days, before coming back and completely ignoring you.
Teachers and staff were no help either. Why would they? Gojo's family held them in the palm of their hand. The most your homeroom teacher would do was avert his eyes whenever something was thrown at you for the third time in class, and quietly remind students to settle down. 
You fell on the ground with an embarrassing thump. A chorus of laughter, and a mocking 'sorry' is all you hear from the crowd. Other students step over your scattered papers, giving you looks of sympathy but never bothering to help. You'd call them cowards, but you know you'd do the same.
Instead, you focus on collecting your papers. You avoid the lump in your throat. The tears that threaten to break over your waterline. It's humiliating, being stuck on the floor like this. It's only Wednesday, but you already feel like breaking.
Hands, scarred, move past you, collecting the rest of the sheets. His face is carefully blank as Geto Suguru neatly tucks his share all in one piece before handing it to you. You give your thanks. He ignores it. 
“Are you hurt?” Geto asks, his voice barely loud enough to hear.
You think you scrapped your knee during the fall, but other than your pride, you're fine. You shake your head. Geto sighs. It's not out of relief.
“That's good,” he says anyway.
You found it ironic that Gojo's best friend is the only one who bothers to help you these days. It makes sense, in a way. It's not like he'll send his goons to Geto, instead. In this solar system, Geto Suguru is the only person unaffected by Gojo's solar flares. 
You work in relative silence, collecting the mess that fell out of your bag. Geto hands you the last of the supplies, idly watching as you tuck them away.
“Take my advice,” he says just before he leaves, “give in.”
He stands up. Geto Suguru has always been taller than you, but now the difference feels even worse. When he looks down at you, a flicker of pity lingers in his eyes. It's gone before it can mean anything. 
“It'll only get worse from here if you don't.”
Worse, he had said. God, what could be worse? You were already at rock bottom. All you have left is your dignity. Something you intend on gritting your teeth to keep.
You quickly learned something about Geto Suguru: he knew his best friend. 
Friday. The end of the worst week of your life has finally arrived. The week after is break, and then maybe Gojo will move onto some other hyperfixation, and finally leave you alone.
Classes were out. You were done, free to run home and cry the entire week away. And then, you noticed, your locker was open.
Smashed in, was a better term. Completely, irrevocably, destroyed. It looked like someone had taken a wooden bat to repeatedly smash in the metal until it cracked open like an egg. 
You don't want to look, but you have to. The busted door is barely hanging on its hinges when you push it open. 
It's worse than anything you could think of. 
Your books, textbooks, journals, are all torn apart and written on. All the contents of your bag have been thrown around. Your assignments, your notes, your pens and pencils. But it's your laptop that makes your throat stop. Smashed, broken without any hope of being salvageable. Your everything was in there. Why why why would he do this to you? 
This wasn't bullying. 
This was abuse. 
Fuck pride. Fuck dignity.
You were so tired. 
Despite the hell his lackeys put you through. Gojo Satoru himself never bothered you. In fact, you hadn't seen him all week. He doesn't make himself impossible to find. You know where his group hangs out after school. You're barely holding yourself together when you hear his voice. His pretty laugh. You don't care about how you look, close to breaking, your voice high-pitched and shaky. 
"Why?" 
Your voice catches his attention. He falls into silence, just like the rest of the group. Gojo surveys you for a moment. There's a scoff, a hint of amusement before he waves off the rest of the group. 
"Get lost." 
They comply, dispersing in multiple directions. For the first time, in a long while, you and Gojo are left alone. You and Gojo are left, alone. 
"Well?" he tilts his head, completely bored. 
"What do I have to do?" You ask desperately, "What-what do I have to do to make this all stop? Please I'll-I'll do anything, just-just make it-" 
It's all too much. You can't hold your sobs in, bursting into tears as you fumble through your words. He tuts in mock pity. You flinch when you feel his hand against your cheek, but he doesn't let you shy away. 
"Anything?" He asks when your sobs simmer into hushed whimpers, "Really? Anything?" 
You blink, looking up at him with rough teary eyes. He's grinning, wide and manic. Your heart drops when he lowers himself to whisper in your ear. 
"Anything, right?" 
You nod once. He sighs in pure delight. His breath tickles your cheek. 
"Get on your knees." 
You jerk back, but Gojo doesn't let you go far, a hand on your shoulder, keeping you rooted on the spot. At your look of pure panic, he only laughs a little. 
"I-I-Gojo you-" 
"And call me Satoru now. Since we're gonna get to know each other a lot better," he interrupts with a chiding grin, ignoring your wide eyes. "What? I thought you said anything, right?" 
He's asking, but it's clear you don't get a choice anymore. His grip on your shoulder is tight, close to crushing skin and bone. You're trapped. No, you were trapped the moment you talked to Gojo Satoru. 
To think this all started because of two cartons of chocolate milk. 
You relent when his grip gets too painful, sinking down to your knees. The grass is cool, and you know it will leave damp spots on your skirt, letting everyone know what you did for him. 
"Good girl," he coos, and you shudder at his hand petting your hair. Like you're some precious pet. To him, maybe you are. How could anyone think of treating a human like this? You should be grateful he does it for you, instead of demanding you to pull him out. Still, the jiggle of his belt makes you wince. You turn away, not being able to bring yourself to look. Only when the tip of his cock reaches your peripheral, do you look back. It's big. You should have expected it, considering his height. It's already leaking, a bead of precum that makes you shudder. He moves forward and you instinctively grip his thigh. 
"Gojo I-" 
"Nuh-uh. Satoru," he ununciates, "Satoru. You gotta' start listening to me baby, or else we're gonna have problems." 
You look down at the grass. Green, soft. 
"Satoru." 
His eyes flash in satisfaction. 
"Open up, pretty girl." 
The last of your fight disappears, sinks into the soft grass. You swallow, once, before you take him. It's a slow, torturous process. He's too big, your jaw is already starting to ache. Satoru barely notices your discomfort, sighing in contentment when you start to gag on his cock, reaching down to tuck a lock of hair behind your ear. 
You make a muffled gurgle and he tilts his head down. His sunglasses fall forward, two pretty eyes stare at you. 
"What? Don't act like this is your first time-" he stops himself, mid-thought. 
"Wait...this can't be your first time, right?" 
If you weren't humiliated enough. You can't even lie, averting your eyes to avoid any further shame. 
"Poor baby," Satoru says, all too delighted, "lemme' walk you through it. Gotta' suck on it, just like a lollipop-that's it-use your tongue," he encourages, still gripping his cock in his hand, like he was feeding it to you. 
You can feel your mouth open wider. Tears stream down your face, not just from your pride, but also from pain. Satoru lets you take him in like this for a few more moments, just enjoying your warm mouth. 
"There we go," he breathes, "take-fuck-take all of me." 
But Satoru isn't known for his patience. You've barely taken all of him in yet before he grabs your hair to fuck your throat properly. You choke, sputtering all over his cock. He barely pays you any mind, his head thrown back as he rams himself down your mouth without a care in the world. 
"Y'know, our first time together could-could have been nicer," he says through gritted teeth, the heat was starting to get to him, "but you just had to go and mess it up, huh?" 
If you were stronger. If you were braver. You would have rejected it. Screamed. Fought. At the very least, you would have denied his delusions. But you weren't strong. You weren't brave. You were weak. Stupid. This was all your fault. Had you just given in the moment he asked, this wouldn't be happening to you. Or maybe, he'd be a bit nicer about it. 
He hisses, gripping the back of your head before something warm and disgusting fills your mouth. Above you, Satoru lets out a shameless groan, a mix of your name as well as a curse. He releases you then, finally letting you sink to the floor. You fall forward, resting on your hands and knees, panting, trying to regain your breath, some semblance of sanity. You can still taste him. It's salty, a sickly tang. You spit as much as you can on the grass. It doesn't help. 
He kneels, getting down to your level. With the way he's silently watching you, you know he's waiting for the right answer this time. 
Don't resist the Sun. It'll crush you. 
So, you drop your gaze down. You take in a deep long stilted breath. 
"Yes, Satoru," you say, voice quiet, pliant, "I'll go out with you." 
His demeanor drops in just a second. He smiles, painfully innocent, like you hadn't spent the last few moments choking on his cock. He cups your face with both hands and you wonder how he could look at you like that, gently, as though you weren't covered in tears and his cum. 
(You still feel it drip down your mouth. Tonight, when he finally lets you go home you'll cry for hours in the shower, hoping the water will wash away all the shame you feel. It won't.)
"Finally!" He exclaims, laughing, light, happy, elated, "I'm so glad you finally came around. I was starting to think I was ugly or something." 
 You stay like that for a while. Underneath him. You let his hands run up and down your body, like he's feeling the space that makes up you. Soon, you'd realize Gojo Satoru liked to touch things that were beneath him. A thought muddles it's way through your numb brain. You bring yourself to look at him. 
"Satoru?" you ask. He sighs in satisfaction, stroking your hair. 
"My laptop...it's broken." 
You didn't know what else to say. It sounded accusatory, even to your ears. Righteous. You wondered if he heard it too, if he'd do something about it. 
Satoru only scoffs.
“that old thing?” You flinch. It was a gift from your aunt, you highly doubted he cared enough about the sentimental. He hugs you closer, almost like a snake, constricting you within its scales before it devours you. 
(You think the worst part is that he didn't even deny it.)
“I'll just get you a new one, baby.”
He walks you home later that evening. When he demands a kiss, you comply, numbly pressing your aching lips to his. 
The sunset is pretty today. 
𖤓
It's not a particularly hard case, but Gojo has a knack for keeping those who work for him busy. Higuruma had asked you to stay behind, once again. The two of you were stuck alone in the office building, a room that Gojo had graciously supplied. 
You were milling through a stack of papers when someone new walked in. You didn't recognize her. She was tall, pretty, sparkling jewelry littered her neck and wrists. Your eyes drifted up and down her outfit, something that definitely wasn't business-appropriate. A part of you wants to ask where she got that lipgloss from. 
"Oh," she tilts her head, surveying the two of you with pretty eyes, "is Sato not here?" 
You inwardly cringe at the nickname, but choose not to show it. Higuruma is the one who saves you, in the end. He speaks on both of your behalf. 
"Mr. Gojo isn't here at the moment," he says, "feel free to wait." 
She does as she's told, plopping down on a seat right next to her. Higuruma goes back to ignoring her, dutiful in everything like he always is. You, on the other hand, don't like the way some of the other associates eye her legs. When you wordlessly hand her your jacket, she gratefully accepts. 
"Thanks. I love your bag, by the way," she cheerily says and a part of you feels bad for her. 
Minutes pass. She crosses her legs and then uncrosses them. When she crosses them again, you have to look up from your paperwork and ask if she's feeling alright. 
"Just nervous," she admits, "I-I haven't seen Sato since our...last meeting." 
Everyone in the vicinity knows this wasn't a casual business meeting, you don't get why she's avoiding the elephant like that. Probably to save face. It's clear from her behavior that she wasn't expecting so many visitors, so perhaps this situation is new for her. You found it strange that a booty call would be called up to an office building, especially when people were clearly watching, but you doubted Mr. Gojo cared about that. He was always shameless in that regard, uncaring about anyone's reputation, even his own. That's why he's in this legal mess in the first place. Besides, you were part of Gojo's Satoru's legal team. Part of your job is to be discreet about his extracurricular affairs. 
Gojo Satoru hadn't changed at all since high school. Why would he? His personality has gotten him this far, after all. The Sun would never change, it's a constant sphere of fire. You wouldn't want him to change. You were banking on his stagnant nature to slip by. You couldn't imagine if he did change, improve himself, and realize how horrible he'd been to you. How would you be able to keep yourself together if he pulled you aside one day and tried to apologize? You'd break. Things are better the way they are now. Let Gojo Satoru indulge himself in all this lavishness, forgetting about the people he's tortured. It's better this way. 
You glance over at the girl. She's young, maybe a couple of years younger than you. You can see the flush on her cheeks. The clear swooning. A part of you wonders what she'd think about that man if you ever told her what he did to you. What a monster he is-
"There you are!" Mr. Gojo strides in, just as silent as always, making himself known when he wants to. 
The girl jumps up, her eyes lighting up in pure excitement as she practically drags herself into Mr. Gojo's arms. He places an arm on the small of her back, scarily close to touching somewhere inappropriate as she chatters away. They disappear off to wherever rich men like him go. 
It's so quick. You must have imagined it because, for a second, you were sure he'd glanced back at you. 
𖤓
By now, everyone knows you're Satoru's. That means, like him, you're untouchable. 
You're not celestial. If Satoru was a star, then you were a stray meteor he'd found hurtling through space, and he couldn't resist forcing it to revolve around him. In exchange for suffering through his solar flares and radiation, he protects you from bigger planets that are all too eager to smash into you. The one relief is that no one seems to bother you anymore. You haven't been shoved around, pushed, or prodded. Sometimes, you receive glares from Satoru's old ex's, but it's more tolerable than burnt homework. 
Satoru has officially chased away all your friends, but he's more than happy to keep you company. You sit next to him in lunch now, quietly listening as he prattles on to the rest of his friends (you recognize some of them, the ones who messed with you, they never seem to hold your gaze for long). You used to study on campus alone, right after school let out. Now, you still do it, but with Satoru watching. It's hard to concentrate with his wandering fingers and wet lips. 
He takes all of your firsts. You don't give them to him, much less, he demanded it of you. The first time he fully takes you is far less romantic than you'd ever hoped. It was on his bed after he'd practically dragged you over to his house that night. You went home the next day covered in marks that took nearly a week to heal. A little while after that, Geto came to talk to you again. For the second time ever. 
"Here." He offers you a packet. Pills. You're confused for a moment until you realize Satoru didn't wear a condom. 
"Thank-" 
"Don't," he cuts you off, "Don't thank me." 
He says it with so much hate that you think it's directed at you. It isn't until years later that you realize the disgust was towards himself. 
There are theories that the Moon once had color. 
It wasn't just white. It was green and blue, and red. 70 million years ago, it could have been much like the Earth. It didn't have a strong atmosphere, however. The gaseous layer was slowly stripped away. The sun didn't help. With no atmosphere, the unfiltered solar radiation slowly began to bleach the once colorful celestial body a dull white. Before long, the sun had created the moon to be its image. Now, the only color the moon has to offer is the sun's reflection. 
When the moon was out, you often stared at it, reveling in its beauty. Now, trapped in between Satoru's arms, you find its skeleton a bit too haunting to look at. 
Three more weeks. Just three more weeks. 
Graduation is coming up soon. You already had your college picked out, far far away from this backward town. From his conversations, Satoru was planning on going to some high-end college in Tokyo. With the way he kept looking back at you, you had a feeling he was planning on dragging you there too. 
You were intelligent enough to keep your mouth shut about your plans. Satoru never asked, so you guessed he assumed you would let him bully you into whatever he wanted. He was right, so far. It's not like you'd ever argued with him. 
Your parents were the only people who knew about your plan. They were excited, albeit for the wrong reasons. 
"I'm so glad to see you're this interested in higher education," your mother beamed, "why the sudden change?" 
You look at your mother's face. People have told you that you share the same smile. You wonder if she'd keep smiling if you ever told her about what Satoru's been doing to you, the bullying, the harassment. 
You can't. You won't, because you can't bear to see her give you the same pitiful look your classmates give-the one Geto gives. You don't want her to see you as something broken. 
"I'm just starting to think I might go into law," you finally say, "definitely need college for that."
On Thursdays, you have to sit inside the gym during Satoru's basketball practice. You wait on the bleachers, reviewing notes, and listening to the squeaking of sneakers. Satoru's good at the sport. You know last year they won a few tournaments. Whenever he scores a point, he gives a cheer, turning back to see if you saw it too. In those moments, you remember he's just a kid. He's your age. You can feel the envy. There, but too insignificant to do anything. He pleasantly lives his childhood, even after he stole yours. 
Practice ends, always a little later than it's officially supposed to. Coach gives the final whistle and then Satoru is jogging back to you. Your things are already neatly packed into your bag. His breath is barely ragged, you can smell the hint of sweat as he kisses you on the lips. You can feel eyes on you, same as always. It's getting easier to ignore the gawking. After all, you're Satoru's now. 
"Miss me?" he asks when he pulls away. He grabs your stuff before you can, hauling your backpack away. To others, it may look like he's being a sweet boyfriend. To you, it's another leash, tugging you to where he wants to go. You're not sure how Satoru sees the action. 
You clamber out of the bleachers, following him without a word. Usually, Satoru would walk you home. You'd share a kiss with him on the front porch. And for the rest of the day, he'd finally leave you alone. 
He grabs your hand, shooting you a wink when you lightly jostle into his body. Instead of heading out the door, Satoru turns his gaze towards the empty locker rooms. The light's automated. It flickers an unsettling white, casting a sick glow along the tiles. You are barely through the door before Satoru's pinning you against the lockers, kissing you as aggressively as he can. 
Your hands immediately find their way to his shoulders, squeezing. It's not enough to hurt him, but it grabs his attention anyway. He lets up a little, relaxing into your touch. 
"Sorry, baby," he says not sounding apologetic at all, "just be good f'me, okay? Need you." 
He's pent up, you realize and you look at the door. School's out. The campus is nearly empty. But people are still around. And the door he just shoved you through doesn't have a lock- 
Oh, wait. Would it even matter if someone came in and saw you? Everyone knew you were Satoru's. 
Three more weeks. Just three more weeks. 
He's trailing down, dropping to his knees. He flips up your skirt, pushing aside your panties, and attaches his hot mouth to your pussy. He's ravenous, today. Sucking on your clit like he can't bear to do anything else. You gasp, immediately assaulted by the shocks of pleasure running up and down your back.
You press against the wall, arching your back, giving him even more to suck on. He hums in approval, his voice getting lost in your wet folds. You're practically dripping now, and Satoru, with all his debauchery, gladly licks it all up as you writhe and whimper above him. Your thighs grow tighter around him, threatening to crush his skull if both his hands weren't carved into the fat of your thighs, squeezing. 
Your initial panic is washed away, crumbled by his insistent tongue and fingers. You whimper out his name again as his tongue circles your clit and two fingers continue to move in and out of your sopping pussy. You're crying now, tears of pleasure and brokenness floating down your cheeks. Despite how blurry your vision is, you can see Satoru looking up at you. 
"Getting close?" he's breathless, but there's still a hint of playfulness in his voice, "gonna sing, pretty girl?" 
He gives a particularly hard suck on your clit and you're gone. You seize, throwing your head back as your legs shake from the force of your orgasm. It's a scream, so loud and shameless. Satoru gives a groaned pant, lapping up your aftertaste, making you jolt from the overstimulation before he finally gets to his feet. You watch as he haphazardly wipes the remnants of you with his sleeve before he's kissing you again. 
"Always so sweet f'me," he purrs, biting at your lips before he fumbles with his belt. His cock is already red and strained. He pants, head shifting to fall at the crook of your neck as he lines himself up and sinks into you with one full thrust. 
You whine a mix of a sob and a hissed moan. He hushes you with a stilted breath, barely keeping himself together as he pumps himself into you. Both of you are sweating now. You can feel the beads draw down your neck. He licks at your clavicle, biting when he starts to get more aggressive. When it's too less, he hikes your thigh over his waist, keeping it there so he can go even deeper. 
"Fuck, I'm crazy for you," he slurs against your skin. You can barely pay attention to his words, barely keeping your own voice in check, "’would do anything for you, pretty girl." 
He raises his head, looking you in the eye. His sunglasses have been tossed on the floor. You can his beautiful eyes, two cosmic galaxies of blue. You could stare at them for hours, discovering each variant of cerulean, naming each one. You bet each day you look, you'll find another shade. They're so pretty.
You wonder how pretty those eyes would look floating in a jar. 
"'Toru-!" you gasp when Satoru rocks himself into again, even faster. The name you accidentally gave him when you're too fucked out to comprehend language makes him laugh in pure delight, his smile uncontrolled, delirious. 
"Right here, baby," he moans into your sweaty skin, hand reaching down to rub your clit, "your ‘Toru's right here. Just where you need him." 
His fingers move under your shirt, squeezing at your tits, exploring, roughly grabbing at your chest. The sensation makes you wince. Your walls draw even tighter, choking his cock. 
"Too-too much, 'Toru, p-please." He growls at your begging, burying his face in your neck again. He nips at your damp skin, you flinch. 
"I gotcha' baby," he breathes, "just-just lemme-" He presses on your clit. It's all you need. 
You come with a sob, your pussy squeezing, milking Satoru for all he's worth. He's not too far behind, hips stuttering before he whines in your ear. Something warm fills your cunt. 
You flounder, sagging against the wall. Satoru's the only thing that keeps you upright as you fight to catch your breath. He isn't in any better shape, panting just as hard as you are. He lifts his head, pressing his damp forehead onto yours. There's a dreamy smile on his lips. A look of absolute adoration. 
"I love you." 
You look at him. There's nowhere else to look.
"I love you," he repeats, leaning forward to kiss the corner of your lips. His lips trail down, caressing your cheek, your jaw, your neck. It would almost feel nice, but you can only stare straight ahead. You can see the dull green lockers in the distance. You can smell the mold in the damp locker room. You can feel Satoru's cum slowly seep out of you, trailing down your thigh. 
Fuck three weeks. 
You needed to get out, now. 
𖤓
The only reason you went is because you were told Gojo Satoru wouldn't be there. 
His assistant had off-handily mentioned that he had a meeting on the other side of town. Very last minute. The building as a whole would be empty, just a skeleton crew and a couple of security guards to keep the place running. It made sense, it was 8 pm- long past any proper business hours. 
Higuruma could have easily gone, but it's clear the sleepless nights have been getting to him, or the stress. His paralegal is more than qualified to act like a middleman between him and Mr.Gojo's associates. It's an easy mission. Just grab a few things, and get out. 
Gojo Satoru wasn't supposed to be there. 
And yet, there he was, leaning against the door, blocking you into the room. 
His assistant had always been a mousey thing. Tonight, however, he'd been extra ansty, looking around the room. Babbling out excuses as to what was taking him so long. Now, when he can barely even look at you, you realize he was just a distraction. 
"You're off the clock, Ijichi," Gojo finally breaks the silence, "take tomorrow off too, okay?" 
His assistant quickly nods, keeping his head down to flit out the door. You can't even bring yourself to be mad at him. Gojo always had a habit of singling out the weakest, crushing them within his fist, unless they bent or broke. 
The door shuts with a click. 
"You know, I didn't even recognize you at first," he starts. He takes a small step forward. 
You take one back. He puts his hands up. 
"Okay, don't be like that," he sighs, exasperated, "It's been what, 10 years? How you've been?" 
He steps around you, barely brushing against your shoulder to get to his desk. He reaches down, grabbing a wine bottle and two glasses from a cabinet, setting both down on mahogany wood. 
"Wanna drink? Technically, it's against company policy to serve alcohol in the building but I won't tell if you don't." He grins. It looks bloody. 
He looks so casual, the man who's haunted your nightmares, leaning against a desk in a building he owns. Your heart's beating in your chest. It's so loud. You wonder if he can hear it too. 
When you don't respond, he rolls his eyes. 
"Figures." He pops the cork. "You were always such a stickler for the rules." 
"What do you want?" You ask, your tone weaker than you'd liked. 
"What? Don't you wanna catch up? I missed you." You flinch at his words, looking away. "A paralegal, huh? Gotta' say, wasn't what I expected, but it fits you." It sounds condescending, but you don't poke the bear, opting to stay silent. 
He seems to take an issue with that, regardless. 
"Are you mad? If anything, I should be the one upset at how you just ran off like that. After all that time we spent together too. I didn't even get a breakup text." 
 His last words, send a chill up your spine. A warning. Staying here any longer would be a mistake. 
You go to move. 
Satoru's faster. 
Your head slams against the wall. Hard. Enough to hurt. You struggle anyway, clawing at the hand that's gripping your throat, the body pinning you down. Above you (he's gotten so much taller now), Gojo tuts in disappointment. 
"I tried to be nice and look where that got me. You tried to run again," he muses, like he's disappointed, "I shouldn't be surprised. You've always needed something with a bit more teeth." At his threat, his hand on your throat tightens. You freeze. 
It's barely choking you, but it's enough of a warning. His other hand is playing with the end of your blouse, feeling the fabric. You can feel the tears start. They're a familiar taste. Only this time, they're twinged with bitterness. 
"Don't do this," you whisper, "Don't-don't-" 
"Yeah, I don't think you're in any position to make demands right now." He's grinning, but when you look into his eyes, you can see the anger. A fire that has burned for a decade. At that moment, you realized Gojo Satoru had changed. Now, he was better at hiding how he truly felt. 
You should have quit the moment Higurama got him as a client. 
Gojo's dragging you over to the desk, haphazardly pushing away the stuff already on it. The computer, the bottle, the wine glasses all fall to the floor with a deafening crash as he shoves you down, splaying you across the table. He follows you down, leaning to meet your lips in a frenzied kiss. It's different than all the other times he'd kissed you. He'd lost all the inexperience, more keen on making you stay put and bleed. When you try to turn your face, pushing at his chest, he only growls. A large hand grabs your chin, keeping you in place for him. 
When he pulls away, there's a hint of blood on his plush lips. It's not his. He licks it up regardless. 
You're full-on sobbing now; barely in sucking air as your body shudders and jolts. You don't expect comfort, least of all from him, but he's cooing, wiping away your tears. 
"Missed this," he purrs, ignoring the way you weakly push at him, "'guess that was my mistake. I was expecting you to be different. Nah, you'll be the same crybaby you always were. That's how you managed to slip under my radar." 
He buries his face into your hair, sighing in contentment as you shiver underneath him. His lips graze the crown of your head, a complete juxtaposition to his words. 
"Scream all you want. No one's here, baby." No one's gonna save you from me.
 Still, you try anyway. Your hands grip his broad shoulders, digging in your nails until he hisses. 
"Fuck maybe you have changed." He rasps, fiddling with his belt. "You're bitchier now." 
"Gojo-Gojo what are you-" He bites on your bare clavicle. You squeal, stilling underneath him again. 
"Satoru," he insists. You slump over the desk as he takes both your hands, wrapping his leather belt around your delicate wrists. You wince when he twists it into a knot. The leather bites into your skin. The fight dissolves just as rapidly as it arrived. He hadn't even lifted a finger against you. You were just that pathetic. 
"Satoru," you breathe, waving your flag of defeat. He hums, licking at the bitemark. You can feel the heat bloom on your skin. They'll be a mark tomorrow, and much like Satoru, it would go away so easily. 
"There's my good girl," he groans, cold hands fiddling with the buttons on your blouse, opening it up until your bra pops out, "I know I should be more mad, but I've always had a soft spot for you. Guess things will never change, hm?" 
His mouth dips down, tracing your collarbone to your breasts. He wiggles down your bra, letting your tits spill out and into his hands. He squeezes one while taking another in his mouth, swirling the bud with his tongue before devouring. His moan is barely muffled by your tits. Yours is clear, high-pitched and breathy. Satoru always had no problem being shameless. And he often dragged it out of you too. 
He's mouthing something against your skin, but you're too distracted by his other hand, slinking down your waist, pushing up your pencil skirt, letting it bunch around your hips. In the moment, you chastised yourself for wearing something so easy to get rid of, but it wasn't like you were expecting for him to be here, to bring you down just like he did when you were in high school. It's not like you were expecting to fall. 
Satoru feels around your pantyhose, running up and down your thigh, searching. He squeezes the sheer fabric, before he rips a hole into it. You gasp, jerking at the action. 
"That's-"
"I'll buy you new ones," he says, voice muffled by your tits. The conversation feels familiar. 
He bypasses your panties immediately, finding your pussy with practiced ease. You're already soaking. At this, he raises to look at you. You can't keep eye contact, timidly looking away. He laughs. It sounds sickenly affectionate. 
"You're so cute." He purrs just as he leaves another mark on your chest. Your tits bounce under his attention as he pushes two fingers into your tight sopping hole. Your back curls, arching off the desk as he starts pumping his fingers in and out of you. Disgust grows within you, not at him, but at yourself, for letting yourself get this low. This desperate. 
It doesn't stay for long. He's cruel like that, moving in a way that makes you forget your humanity. His fingers get even faster, digging into your cunt and curling somewhere deep inside, hitting a spot that makes you gasp. You're reduced to whimpering moans by the time he finally stops, fingers exiting your pussy with a wet noise. He brings them to his mouth, sucking on his fingers, eyes rolling to the back of his head at your taste. 
"Fuckin' sweet," he moans, taking his fingers out with a sickening pop before wiping the drool on your heaving tits. 
Your eyes float to the window. The moon is out, you blearily realize. It's a blood moon, a rusty red. Once every 3 months, it'll lose its heavenly glow. The innocent milky white will get shadowed by the Earth's rusty atmosphere. It'll regain its color eventually. The Sun doesn't like to be overshadowed. 
Something hard and blunt slides between your legs. You're barely given a second to comprehend it before Satoru grabs you by the hips, filling you up with one thrust. You yelp, a semblance of his name on your lips, but it's shrouded by the moan you give out. 
He stays like that for a bit. You should be grateful he is letting you adjust to him. His cock is sickenly familiar to your walls. Satoru's hair brushes your cheek as he leans up to whisper in your ear. 
"How many?" he sounds like he's gritting his teeth, barely in control, "how many guys have you let fuck you since you ran?" 
You blink, wondering if he's seriously asking, but you can hear the seriousness in his tone. Even now, he's concerned with the wrong things. He's always been petty like that. 
"You," you say because there's no point in lying, "it's only ever been you." 
You say it like it's a curse, because to you, Satoru had cursed you. He'd stolen something you'd never be able to enjoy, devouring it, keeping it for himself. A part of you will always hate yourself for letting him do that, just like a part of you will always be his. 
Satoru deflates, as if he's relieved, easing his face into the crook of your neck, placing an almost loving kiss on your shoulder. He starts slow, slowly drawing his cock out, just until his tip is barely still in, before he pushes himself back into your hole. His pace is slow, controlled. It's different than when he was younger, more eager to get himself off more than anything. Now, it's like he's enjoying the intimacy, the feeling of your walls squeezing him. The wet noises. He's barely affected. Unlike you, writhing underneath him, close to falling apart. It's his length that gets you, forcing your pussy to stretch just to fit him. His cock hits everywhere, all at once, an endless torture of pleasure. 
It takes you a while to get your brain back together, to collect the mush, and realize that Gojo isn't wearing a condom. 
"S-Sato-" You try, just when he spreads your thighs apart, pushing them close to your chest so he can get deeper and kiss you at the same time. His hand slips down to your swollen clit, rubbing tight circles and you feel yourself getting even closer. You squeeze your eyes shut at the onslaught. 
"Try again," Satoru huffs, "What's my name? I know you know it, pretty girl." 
"'Toru," you beg because it's all you have left. Your breathless gasps make you sound even more unconvincing but you still manage to stutter out, "I'm-I'm not on anything, so-so please-" 
"That's okay," he mutters, though it's clear he's half-listening, "I'll take care of you and the baby."
"No-I-I-can't-" 
He drops his leisure pace in exchange of shorter, faster thrusts. His cock barely leaves your pussy, grinding in your hole as his breathing starts to get a little less controlled. 
"I'll make sure it takes this time too." 
Your eyes open, and you forget your panic to stare at him. You think back to the pills 18-year-old Geto had handed you. Always discreet. You'd...you'd always thought they were Satoru's idea. 
He hits something inside you, right then. You implode, crashing and burning as you gush around his dick. He's not kind enough to ease you through it, ramming his cock even harder inside your battered pussy until he's hunching over you with a shudder. You can feel his cum settle deep inside your womb. 
You stay like that for a few moments, not saying anything. It feels like hours before Satoru is moving again, drawing his softened cock out of your overstimulated pussy. You can feel the cum drip out of you too, spilling onto the desk, but you don't think Satoru's too mad about that. He flicks your clit a few times, watching your hips jerk and you give an exhausted whine. 
He kisses your breasts. He kisses up your jaw, before finding your lips. Dazed, you find yourself kissing back in reluctant acceptance, your body aching for any semblance of gentleness. 
"I love you." 
You look into his eyes, and you realize he's right. Gojo Satoru loves you, and this is how a man like him loves. He meant it, all those years ago, just like how he does now.
Satoru loves like the Sun. Too bright. With enough heat to burn your soul away. It's why you ran. 
"I love you," he repeats like the phrase doesn't kill you each time he says it, "so you're never leaving me." 
"Not ever again."
There are theories that the Moon once had color. 
It wasn't just white. It was green and blue, and red. 70 million years ago, it could have been much like the Earth. It didn't have a strong atmosphere, however. The gaseous layer was slowly stripped away. The Sun had eaten it. With no atmosphere, the unfiltered solar radiation slowly began to bleach the once colorful celestial body a dull white. Before long, the sun had created the moon to be its image. Now, the only color the moon has to offer is the sun's reflection. 
If Satoru was the Sun, then perhaps, you were the Moon. Stripped of your color. Unable to create light of your own. Reflecting only what you're given. 
How foolish of you to think you could ever escape his radiation. 
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