#(I also never wear cross-over blouses and dresses)

[cultivating-wildflowers]

my dad told me two years ago that I'm "a true autumn" and now here I am crocheting a sweater for myself in a color I never wear

[pin-k-ink]

OFF THE RECORD ⋆✦⋆ gojo satoru

synopsis ➸ you know gojo too well to believe he’s here for a quick fuck. he’s here for a favor—one you have no intention of granting. too bad he’s never been good at taking no for an answer.

tags ➸ implied former student/teacher relationship, slight age gap, friends with benefits, possessive behavior, mild dom/sub themes, power play, manipulation, daddy kink, mild objectification, dirty talking, semi-public/public sex, mention of past sexual encounters, implied blackmail (it’s really not as bad as you think)

wc ➸ 10.9k

The steamy tendrils still clung to your skin as you stepped out of the shower, toweling off with a contented sigh. Mornings like this—quiet, peaceful routines before diving headfirst into the chaotic world of jujutsu—were increasingly rare these days. So you tried to savor each precious moment while it lasted.

With the towel secured around your body, you padded toward the bedroom to get dressed for yet another long day at headquarters. However, the second you stepped over the threshold, the hairs along your nape instantly prickled upright. A presence. An unmistakable shift in the air currents that could only mean—

"Well, good morning, gorgeous! Sleep well?"

You barely stifled the startled yelp as Gojo Satoru's cheerful baritone seemed to resonate from directly behind you. Whirling around, sure enough, there he was—all towering height, shredded muscle, and bright eyes glinting with clear amusement. How someone so powerful could also be so utterly shameless sometimes, you'd never know.

Doing your best to ignore the heat flooding your cheeks, you planted your hands on your hips in a stern facsimile of composure. "Satoru...what an unexpected surprise. Here I thought teachers were supposed to set good examples about respecting boundaries, not traipsing into former students' homes unannounced."

Rather than appear even remotely chagrined, Gojo simply chuckled and leaned back against your kitchen counter as if he owned the place. You watched in mild annoyance as his gaze slowly trailed up and down your towel-clad figure with undisguised appreciation.

"Hey now, no need for such icy formalities between us old friends," he chided, the barest hints of a smirk tugging at those infuriatingly full lips. "Besides, when have I ever cared about doing what's expected of me, hm? That's like...95% of my appeal, babe."

Rolling your eyes, you huffed out a resigned sigh and crossed the room to your closet, firmly squelching the instincts that urged you to yank the towel higher and more securely over your body. Gojo had seen—and thoroughly enjoyed—far more of you than this in the past. No sense getting flustered over his blazing regard now.

"Right, so does this impromptu visit have an actual purpose?" You shot him a pointed look over your shoulder as you fished out a crisp blouse and trousers to wear to HQ. "Or are you just being a pain as usual and raiding my fridge for a sugar fix again?"

You heard Gojo's low snort of amusement before his heavy footfalls sounded, clearly bringing him closer despite your protestations. "What can I say? Your kitchen is better stocked with sweets than most convenience stores. I can't help craving a little nibble now and then..."

The sultry undercurrent in his tone triggered a fresh blaze of heat along your nape. You could practically feel the smoldering weight of Gojo's stare boring into your ass as you bent to rifle through your bottom dresser drawer.

"But you're onto something with that other theory as well," he continued in a lower, more contemplative register. All traces of levity seemed to evaporate as his presence loomed larger behind you. "I did actually come to ask a favor of my very favorite former pupil. An important one that I wouldn't bother you about if the stakes weren't so high."

Curiosity and trepidation warred within your chest at the unexpected gravity clouding Gojo's usually buoyant candor. You instinctively straightened, clutching your clothes to your chest as you slowly turned to face him once more.

And just like that, the heated tension seemed to ratchet up several palpable notches as your eyes met and held in the claustrophobic space. Gojo's sculptured features had taken on a severe, intense edge—all sharp angles and tightly leashed power that instantly siphoned the breath from your lungs.

Suddenly, his earlier "playful" flirting and teasing manner seemed less like an act and more like a fragile facade barely containing his true tempestuous nature. You swallowed hard against the liquid lick of thrilling trepidation skating down your spine as Gojo maintained that weighty, piercing stare for several moments longer.

"...Is everything okay?" You finally managed in a hushed murmur, scarcely recognizing your own voice under the abrupt spell of Gojo's domineering energy. "What could possibly have you riled up enough to ditch the flippant act?"

Rather than immediately answering, Gojo closed the remaining distance between you with two long, purposeful strides. You had to crane your head back slightly to maintain eye contact as his powerful silhouette utterly consumed your space—the scalding brand of his body heat and crisp, masculine scent enveloping you from all sides.

"Believe me, kitten...if I came here for anything even remotely fun or pleasure-oriented, you wouldn't need to ask," he rumbled at last, voice pitched low enough to instill a full-body shiver along your nerves.

One of Gojo's large hands came up, and you froze as the rough pads of his knuckles grazed a feather-light caress along the line of your jaw. His thumb swiped over the seam of your lower lip in an utterly artless, possessive sweep—smoldering gaze following the motion with incendiary focus.

"I'd already have that smart mouth wrapped around my cock doing something far more useful than talking..."

Despite the crudity of his words, you couldn't quite stifle the punched-out whimper that slipped free at the graphic implication. Gojo's pupils blew fractionally wider in answer, tongue darting out to lave his lower lip as if tasting the charged undercurrents now rippling between you.

"Lucky for you, this is actually about business," he continued in that same resonant timbre that seemed to spark straight between your thighs each time his rich cadence washed over you. "The kind of serious business that even a lazy pervert like me can't afford...distractions for at the moment, got it?"

You managed a jerky nod, too disoriented by the heady spiral of desire cloying at your senses to do much else. Gojo's expression seemed to tighten further—a muscle feathering in his chiseled jaw as if steeling himself for whatever came next as he stepped back a bit.

"Itadori Yuji is scheduled for execution..." The blunt statement punched out like a missile deployment, brutally shredding the increasingly rapacious atmosphere between you. "And one way or another, I need that sentence postponed before it's too late."

You immediately shook your head, mouth set in a grim line. "Postponing Itadori Yuji's execution? That's not going to happen, Satoru."

His brows pinched slightly at your blunt refusal. "This is serious, kitten. That kid is instrumental to—"

"Don't you think I know how serious this is?" you cut him off, firming your voice into an authoritative tone. "I work directly under the higher-ups, remember? I'm well aware of the situation with Sukuna’s vessel and the potential ramifications of his continued existence."

Squaring your shoulders, you leveled Gojo with an unwavering stare. "My answer is final. Bringing this to the elders would be pointless at best, and could potentially jeopardize my position if they see it as insubordination. I'm not sacrificing everything I've worked for just because you showed up and gave me those stupid puppy dog eyes."

Rather than back down, Gojo simply regarded you with a contemplative tilt of his head—bright gaze assessing as if turning over your words from every possible angle. You could practically see the gears turning behind those piercing blue irises as he recalibrated his approach.

"Okay, let's table the business side of things for now," he said at last, tone losing some of its previous urgency. Straightening his body, Gojo prowled a step closer—effectively reclaiming the charged atmosphere from earlier. "Maybe you just need some...persuading to see reason."

You refused to be baited so easily, keeping your expression coolly neutral even as his scalding presence flooded your personal space once more. "I'm not some hormonal teenager letting her heart sway business decisions anymore, Satoru. Those games won't work."

Gojo hummed softly in response, head cocking as his lips curved into a slow, molten smirk. "We'll see about that..."

Without warning, his hands clamped down on your hips, thumbs digging in with delicious friction as he hauled you flush against the solid wall of his torso. You couldn't withhold the tiny gasp that punched free at the sudden, searing contact—every ridge and cording muscle of Gojo's powerful physique branding itself against your towel-clad frame.

"Does this position feel...familiar to you at all, gorgeous?" he murmured in a honeyed rasp right against the whorl of your ear. His nose trailed a path along your jaw as he dipped to mouth steamy, lingering kisses down the fragrant column of your throat. "Maybe sparks a few memories of the last time you found yourself pinned underneath me...crying out for more the whole night through?"

A shudder rippled down your spine at the crude allusion to your long-ago graduation celebration with Gojo. You remembered that encounter vividly—every slick rasp of skin against skin, the sweltering tangle of limbs, the exquisite ache of being split open on his thick cock over and over until the entire room reeked of your joined passion.

Gojo merely chuckled at your flustered squirming, nosing aside the collar of your towel to lave a heated path along your collarbone. "Mmm...that's right. There were points that night where I had my cock buried so fuckin' deep in this perfect pussy of yours that you could taste it on the back of your tongue with every breath."

You bit back a shuddering whimper at the crude imagery, willpower rapidly crumbling beneath his carnal onslaught. Despite your best efforts, the memories he so skillfully stoked were stoking liquid tendrils of arousal thrumming to life between your thighs. Gojo's grin stretched wider as you unconsciously arched into his scorching frame.

"Always did love ruining you on my dick that first time," he rumbled with blatant gratification against your heated skin. "Watching those gorgeous eyes glaze over while I split you open again and again until you passed out..."

Abruptly, Gojo detached his mouth from the thundering pulse at your jugular with one final lingering sweep of his sinful tongue. Smirking down at your glazed, panting expression, he tucked an errant lock of hair behind your ear.

"But hey...while fun memories are nice, I'd rather make some new ones together after work," he said, suddenly all casual nonchalance once more as he meandered towards the door. "I'll pick you up from HQ when your shift is over and we can...discuss this Itadori thing some more in private. That sound good to you, babe?"

You blinked rapidly, trying to reassemble your scattered thoughts as the searing proximity of Gojo's presence withdrew—leaving you bereft and utterly unbalanced by the shift.

"Don't worry your pretty head over giving me an answer," Gojo called over his shoulder as he palmed the doorknob. "I already know you'll say yes when I remind you again how much that tight little pussy loves being split open on my—"

The door snapped shut with a hollow thud, cutting off the rest of his filthy promise. Though the last rakish wink he slanted your way before departing was more than enough to sear the implication deep into your psyche.

Sinking heavily back against the wall, you fought to regain your equilibrium—limbs quaking and breath escaping in ragged pants that did nothing to dissuade the rising tide of feverish arousal still gripping your core. Gojo had utterly unraveled you into a breathless, squirming mess from just a few suggestive caresses and searing endearments.

And despite your best efforts, you got the gnawing suspicion he'd made up his mind to thoroughly capitalize on—and ruthlessly extend—that molten state when you inevitably saw him again tonight.

The long hours crept by at an agonizing pace as you tried to focus on your duties at headquarters. But the memory of Gojo's heated presence that morning, his crude allusions to your long-ago passionate tryst, made it utterly impossible to concentrate.

You vividly recalled the way his powerful frame had caged you against the wall, face nuzzling along your flushed throat as that rich, smoky timbre painted filthy promises about thoroughly splitting you open again soon. Just the phantom whisper of Gojo's searing lips tracing your thundering pulse was enough to catalyze wild tremors of molten arousal deep in your core.

Each time you shifted in your seat or bent over the piles of paperwork, you could've sworn a delirious ache throbbed between your thighs—muscles fluttering with unbearable emptiness. Like they instinctively yearned to be stretched taut around the thick, punishing girth of Gojo's cock once more, just like that rapturous night of your graduation celebration.

The explicit images and flashes of sensation made concentrating an exercise in futility. Only your rigid adherence to professionalism and composure prevented you from squirming like an utter harlot right there in front of your subordinates.

By the time the evening hours finally rolled around, you felt strung as taut as a high wire—electrified nerves screaming for any sort of reprieve from Gojo's lingering psychic imprint. So you hastily packed your bags and paperwork, determined to slip out before he had a chance to accost you again.

However, the second you passed through the main entrance gates, a powerful hand shot out to clamp around your bicep in an authoritative grip. You barely contained the strangled gasp as Gojo's sheer masculine presence enveloped you, dragging you into the shadowed seclusion of a nearby alcove.

The cool stone bit into your back as he firmly levered your wrists overhead, utterly pinning you in place with his hulking silhouette. Gojo's piercing blue eyes glinted in the dim light, scorching a path down your disheveled figure with undisguised intent.

"Leaving so soon?" The deep, resonant timbre of his voice washed over you in smoky tendrils, already catalyzing a fresh blaze of arousal in your veins. "And here I was looking forward to picking up where we left off earlier..."

To emphasize his point, Gojo surged forward until every inch of his powerful frame molded against yours in a delicious, searing brand. You whimpered softly as his weight pinned you fully, feeling the unmistakable rigid line of his erection notching against your lower belly.

Gojo ducked his head with a low rumble of approval, searing lips and tongue mapping a scorching path along the fragrant hollow of your throat. You instinctively tilted your head aside to grant him better access, shuddering helplessly as he indulged in long, openmouthed draughts of your scent and flushed skin.

"F-Fuck...Satoru, not here!" The words emerged in a reedy, breathless whine against your better judgment as his wicked mouth found that sensitive bundle of nerves just below your ear. You writhed beneath the slow torment with increasing desperation. "Anyone could catch us...this is crazy!"

Rather than immediately address your token protests, Gojo merely chuckled—the warm puffs of his amusement ghosting deliciously along your tingling nerves as he mouthed a stinging graze against your racing pulse. One of his large, calloused palms slid down to engulf your hip in a possessive squeeze, already kneading and grinding you in a slow simmer of friction.

"You say that like you've never been desperate enough to beg me to fuck you right here in these hallways before..." The low, sensually-charged growl shivered your bones down to the marrow. Gojo finally pulled back enough to cage your dazed features fully within his piercing stare—lips curved in a lascivious smirk of fond reminiscence. "Multiple times, if I'm recalling correctly."

Heat flared through your cheeks as the graphic imagery took shape against your fraying resistance—lurid memories of breathless encounters where the thrill of potentially being caught by patrolling sentries only fueled the delirious flames higher. You swallowed hard against the thickness now cloying your throat, squirming in feeble denial.

Gojo's smirk deepened into something utterly sinful as he drank in your expression with clear relish. "Do you need me to refresh your memory about the last time you had me backed into a supply closet?" he rasped, leaning in until the blistering brand of his body seared you from chest to hip once more. "How hard you came when I finally pulled those thighs apart and licked straight through your soaked—"

"Enough!" you gasped out before he could fully unleash the damning words. You renewed your efforts at wriggling free in earnest, well aware your weakening restraint wouldn't last against Gojo's relentless carnal onslaught. "I-I...maybe we should actually go somewhere more appropriate first. Dinner, maybe?"

Despite your sudden meek suggestion, you couldn't quite mask the desperation laced through the plaintive request. Gojo's eyes seemed to glitter brighter at the shift in your demeanor, clearly scenting weakness in the offing as he allowed his grip to relax somewhat.

"Dinner first, huh?" He pursed those full lips into an exaggerated pout of contemplation before relenting with a dramatic sigh. "Well, I suppose that's only fair since I'm the one working up an appetite here..."

With one last blistering look that robbed you of breath entirely, Gojo stepped back and pivoted on his heel to swagger away down the narrow thoroughfare like a man supremely assured of victory. You could only sag back against the alcove wall, chest heaving with exertion as the towering remnants of arousal slowly ebbed.

However, there remained little doubt in your overwrought psyche that this temporary reprieve from your joining was little more than the universe's taunting cruelty. You'd awoken Gojo's darkest, most lascivious appetites earlier that morning.

And if the way he slanted one final look over his powerful shoulder—bright irises already blown wide and jaw clenching subtly around what had to be punishing levels of restraint—then the true feasting was only just about to begin in earnest. With your achingly empty body as the main course.

The opulent restaurant oozed sophistication from every polished surface and perfectly-starched linen. The sommelier's formal bow and crisp recitation of the evening's premier wine offerings seemed utterly wasted on the two of you.

You eyed Gojo over the rim of your glass, the dry Cabernet doing little to dull the lingering tension still thrumming between your joined frames. As always, he looked utterly nonplussed about the lavish indulgences surrounding you—crisp white dress shirt straining across his muscular torso and sharp jawline rasped by the beginnings of late evening stubble. Like a predator eternally at ease, regardless of situation.

Gojo's piercing gaze roamed over you with the same slow, assessing intensity one might reserve for an exquisite delicacy awaiting consumption. You tried not to squirm under that molten scrutiny, clearing your throat pointedly.

"I'm assuming there was some purpose behind corralling me into this place," you remarked in your best professional tone. "Beyond getting me liquored up for some inappropriate table exhibition, that is."

Rather than rebuff your dig, Gojo simply angled his head in a catlike tilt—lips curling into a devilish smirk that telegraphed his carnal interest crystal clear. Leaning further back in his chair, he allowed one broad palm to splay suggestively over the crisp linen covering his lap, fingertips drumming out an idle staccato.

"Well now, I certainly wouldn't say no to having those gorgeous lips wrapped around something else for a change." His deep timbre emerged laced with sin and smoky insinuation. "You always did look like an utter vision stuffed under these fancy tabletops sucking me off..."

Heat blossomed across your cheeks despite your best efforts at composure. You knocked back another bracing swallow of wine, struggling not to dwell on the searing flashes his words evoked—memories of delirious encounters where Gojo had hauled you under secluded tables to properly appreciate your skills with relentless, undisguised gratification.

Swallowing thickly, you gripped your fork with slightly more force than necessary."I'd ask if you're always this disgracefully crass and lascivious in public these days...but then I remembered who I'm talking to," you said dryly. "So in the interest of not causing a scene, why don't we get to the point of this little ambush?"

One brow arched infinitesimally as Gojo cocked his head further, clearly drinking in your prim and vaguely irritated state with evident relish. "You seem awfully anxious to rush right to business," he murmured, fingertips continuing their idle rhythm against the tablecloth. "Where's that simmering self-restraint and haughty composure I remember enjoying unraveling piece...by...delicious...piece so thoroughly back in the day?"

You opened your mouth to fire back a scathing retort, only for Gojo to cut you off with a low, lush rumble. "Unless you've simply decided being insatiably thirsty for this cock is more your speed these days..."

With that quiet taunt, his free hand disappeared beneath the pristine linen swathe in a heavy, meaningful descent. You swallowed convulsively as his fingertips slid along the unmistakable ridge of his thick cock straining against the unforgiving fabric of his slacks. Every knuckle undulated in a deliberate, stroking glide that tightened your throat like a vise around trapped breaths and unspoken pleas.

"Can practically already taste how soaked you're getting beneath those prim layers just from the thought alone..." Gojo continued in a molten rasp heavy with undisguised gratification. "Imagining that filthy little mouth stretched wide around my girth again, glazing yourself in my cum right here in front of god and all these polite company..."

A tiny, reedy sound slipped unbidden from your constricted chest despite your best efforts at locking it down. Gojo's lascivious smirk turned rapacious as he correctly scented the spike of liquid want now cloying the humid space between you.

"So what do you say, gorgeous?" He pitched his timbre slightly lower, allowing each gravelled syllable to curl around your senses with lashes of pure elemental sin. "Going to be a good little famished cocksleeve and give me a hand under the table before we get down to—"

You cut across his brazen soliloquy with a forceful rap of your fork against the tabletop. Pulling yourself together, you fixed Gojo with a severe glower that finally seemed to give him pause.

"If you can't conduct yourself with any semblance of decorum befitting your station, then I'm through entertaining these adolescent displays," you bit out in a hushed tone edged with adamant warning. "I'm not some wide-eyed underling fresh off the training fields anymore, Satoru. I have higher standing and responsibility than you seem to grasp."

Silence stretched between you for a weighted beat—Gojo's heated gaze flickering over you with renewed focus you couldn't quite decipher. When he finally spoke again, there was a note of uncharacteristic control underpinning his typically buoyant candor. Clearly, he'd grasped the need to change tactics once more.

"You're absolutely right," he said after a prolonged pause. "Part of me forgets just how much you've grown and ascended the ranks over the years." One side of his mouth curved higher in a lopsided ghost of his usual smirk. "Clearly earned the elders' respect and esteem far beyond that of a simple 'secretary' as I put it earlier."

Before you could retort, Gojo pressed onwards—hand sliding almost absently back into view to wrap around the stem of his wine flute. "Which is exactly why your assistance is pivotal to turning the tide regarding Yuji's current...perilous circumstances."

There was a grim finality in his words that snapped you back to the seriousness of the moment like a sobering slap to the face. You shifted fractionally taller in your seat, expression hardening as Gojo continued in low, adamant tones.

"Whether you're fully aware or care to admit it right now, that kid is destined to be pivotal for the upcoming events on the horizon," he rumbled with quiet conviction. "Leaving him to get executed off the books tomorrow morning would be tantamount to losing our most powerful asset before the real battles even begin."

Swirling his wine idly, Gojo paused to take an unhurried pull directly from the bottle before continuing. "Which is why I'm going to need to call in more than a few favors getting his sentence postponed tonight. Starting with you, of course..."

There was a new current of steely focus glinting in his gaze as it bored into you with ruthless intensity. For several protracted beats, you simply held each other's stares—gauging the lengths and motivations rumbling beneath the surface beyond petty physical exploits.

Finally, you pursed your lips and shook your head in a solemn negation. "I'm sorry, but I can't overstep protocol and abuse my influence with the elders like that," you stated, quietly adamant. "Not even for you, Satoru. The ramifications could unravel everything I've worked decades to attain if word got out I went rogue."

Rather than exploding in his usual flashes of arrogance or wounded pride, Gojo merely raked you with a glower of narrowed, simmering intent. His next words emerged more pointed and resonating than any innuendo or filthy endearment preceding it.

"Are you sure about that stance?" he intoned darkly. "Because if memory serves, there are a few distinct...indiscretions we've engaged in that could certainly be construed as 'unraveling' by the elders' view, wouldn't you agree?"

The waiter's polished footsteps faded as he departed to fetch their entrees, leaving you and Gojo in a weighted silence. You could practically taste the undercurrent of tension simmering in the air between you both.

Sipping his wine slowly, Gojo dragged his incandescent stare over your features with undisguised intensity. "I'm serious about this," he stated in a low, firm rumble that brooked no further evasion. "We're talking everything from inappropriate use of jujutsu techniques to conduct we both know crosses so many lines..."

He trailed off meaningfully, leaving the implications to hang heavy as his tongue slicked over his lower lip. You swallowed hard against the rising heat prickling across your cheeks and neck.

"Like that night in the east gardens behind the training halls," Gojo continued, voice dropping into a deeper, more intimate register that curled straight between your thighs. "Where I pinned you down in the grass and ate you out until you came all over my face. And then I fucked you so hard, you nearly passed out before we got caught."

Despite yourself, a tremulous shiver raked through your nerves as the visceral flashes assaulted your mind's eye—the frantic rasp of his calloused palms roaming and kneading, the slick motions of his tongue probing and savoring parts of you meant for far more intimate settings.

Gojo noticed your reaction with a dark chuckle, clearly satisfied he'd reeled you back in completely. "Or what about the time you wrapped those pretty lips around my cock in the maintenance closet and let me rail your throat until you choked on my load? How many rules was just that one encounter bending, hm?"

The directness of his words scorched through you with dizzying potency, making you flush and squirm. You parted your lips on a shaky exhale, determined to regain some semblance of control.

But Gojo smirked knowingly and pressed his verbal advantage in a low, filthy rumble. "Face it, I've got enough material on you ruining me with that greedy little mouth and pussy all over campus to get you defrocked hard." His hooded azure gaze practically seared into your core. "And yet you really wanna risk me airing all those dirty details to the elders? Leaving Itadori's fate to chance like that?"

Your mouth felt suddenly dry as you wrestled with the undeniable truth behind his taunting words. For several fraught beats, the frustration and righteous indignation warred with your embedded sense of duty to the cause. Finally, you released a shuddery breath and lifted your chin.

"I'll...see what I can do about swaying things in your favor," you muttered in a low, slightly strained tone. "No promises, but I'll try discussing options with the higher-ups."

Rather than seem appeased, Gojo's expression only hardened further—carved features settling into a granite mask of tenacious stubbornness and smoldering impatience. "'Not good enough, kitten," he rumbled, forearms tensing atop the table. "This mission is too fucking important for halfhearted measures. I need you to outright insist on a stay of execution being granted, got it? No more stammering 'I'll try' bullshit that lets them sidestep."

His unyielding stare pinned you with the intensity of a physical force, raising your hackles slightly despite your attempt at diplomacy. Still, looking into those blazing blue embers, you got the distinct impression that you'd sooner achieve moving a mountain with vocal commands than sway Gojo on this matter. That steely resolve would accept nothing less than complete victory in postponing Itadori's fate.

Just as you began resigning yourself to digging in for another round of heated back-and-forth across the fancy tablecloth, the arrival of the main courses mercifully broke the combative spell between you. Gojo seemed to settle back imperceptibly as the waiter swept in—that scorching intensity banking down to a more companionable smolder for the time being.

Still, you recognized the temporary reprieve for what it was as you tucked into your meal with far less gusto than anticipated. Despite his best efforts to gloss over the previous tension with idle banter and lighter conversational tones, it remained silently understood that the evening's main purpose still hung unresolved and delicate between you until matters were final.

So it was with an undercurrent of somber expectation that you finally settled the check and rose to follow Gojo from the opulent dining hall at evening's end. A subtle snap of his fingers triggered a curiously disorienting sensation of compression and vertigo—only to release you blinking in surprise mere heartbeats later, finding yourself suddenly standing in the familiar living quarters you called home.

"I'd say you're handling that little trick with far more aplomb these days," Gojo remarked with a lopsided grin, clearly drinking in your adjustment to his impromptu teleportation with amusement. "Remember when I first started zipping you around like that? Pretty sure you heaved your guts all over those ugly penny loafers you used to wear back in the day."

Huffing out a noise of semi-fond exasperation, you aimed a swat at his sculpted arm without malice. "Yes, well I suppose youth and naivety breed certain...overzealous behaviors, don't they?" you retorted before immediately sobering once more. "Like making reckless judgment calls that imperil an entire system..."

Gojo's expression remained impassive, giving no outward indication whether your choice of words struck any particular chord with him. However, you caught the faintest glimmer flickering behind those incandescent blue irises - the barest hint that perhaps you'd underestimated just how much gravitas your dissenting opinion potentially held with the higher-ups.

After all, you were Gojo Satoru's first and most distinguished pupil back when he initially ascended to teaching status, weren't you? Not only that, but your judicious control and prime mastery of your innate techniques embodied many of the fundamental philosophies and fighting styles the old guard so staunchly valued. On numerous occasions, your skills had been cited as quintessential examples to uphold for future generations...

You blinked, momentarily caught off guard as the weighty truth of your potential sway with leadership gradually bobbed to the surface of your consciousness like drift debris after a storm. This entire evening, Gojo might have simply been maneuvering to forcibly realign your perspective on leveraging the hidden influence you apparently wielded without ever fully grasping it.

To truly comprehend the magnitude of the gambit he intended to play using your standing as the key gambit.

Before you could properly parse that sobering epiphany, however, Gojo had already closed what little distance remained between your frames with purposeful strides. The blistering heat of his body all but blanketed yours as he leaned in with that familiar aura of prowling, casual intensity that always made your breath stall.

"So..." he murmured, voice pitching into a lower register that seemed to slither straight down your spine. "Does that mean you're gonna be a good girl and invite me inside so we can continue this intriguing conversation in more...comfortable accommodations?"

Gojo punctuated the brazen implication by cocking one arm against the doorframe, effectively caging you between the cool wood and the searing, masculine planes of his torso and hips. You were abruptly overwhelmed by the reality of his proximity - each subtly shifting ripple of sinew and musculature utterly inescapable from this range.

That distinctly virile, elemental musk that always set your senses clamoring was back in full force as well. You swallowed hard, nostrils flaring fractionally as the delirious essence of Gojo's body heat and clean, faintly spiced perspiration flooded your olfactory receptors. Despite your most ardent efforts, you felt your lids grow heavy and mouth part unconsciously as liquid frissons of pure, burgeoning temptation licked through your veins.

Just like that, with a few deftly aimed strokes, Gojo had reeled you back to the precipice of helpless surrender once more. Still, you summoned the dregs of your stern resolve and planted your palms squarely against his chest, levering back an inch to preserve some semblance of boundaries.

"Subtle as ever, I see," you managed in a tone you hoped came across more dryly exasperated than outright breathless. "I should've guessed the moment we arrived you'd be angling to make yourself at home uninvited."

One brow arched higher, though you didn't miss the slight crinkling at the corners of Gojo's stupidly pretty eyes betraying his hushed amusement. "Oof, someone has their defenses wound just a tad tightly if they think I require permission these days," he shot back with a wry rumble.

Before you could summon a retort, that leonine physique surged forward in a slow, sensual undulation—once again pinning you fully against the unyielding wooden slab with the scorching brand of his larger frame. Gojo's free hand drifted down to palm the generous curve of your hip with sinful insistence, hips canting forward until there could be no mistaking the ridge of his erection notching against your lower belly.

"Better question might be..." His voice dropped several delirious octaves into those sandpaper-rough timbres that seemed to sizzle straight through your nerve endings. "Why even bother pretending at token protests when we both know how this little dance is gonna end...?"

Those incandescent azure irises flickered down to where his fingertips were already stroking teasing swirls against the exposed strip of skin between your top and waistband, silently daring you to rebuff such an implicit capitulation.

"So why delay the inevitable any longer, gorgeous?" Gojo rumbled against your lips, voice dropping into that gravelly timbre designed to liquefy your restraint. "Let's get down to stripping off all these formalities once and for—"

"You haven't even kissed me yet today," you blurted out, cutting across his heated soliloquy.

Gojo's pale brows pinched infinitesimally as the words seemed to momentarily stall his single-minded determination. You could practically see the gears turning behind those hooded azure irises as he processed your statement—likely running back through every provocative encounter and instance of attempted seduction throughout the evening.

When his piercing stare finally snapped back to yours, there was the faintest glimmer of sheepish realization burning there. "...Huh. You're right," he remarked in a slightly lower, more subdued tone. "Here I've been working overtime to rile you up, and I haven't even had the balls to properly lay one on you yet."

You tried not to visibly preen under the gratifying acknowledgment, but couldn't quite suppress the tiny quirk tugging at the corners of your mouth. Sensing a rare window of opportunity, you shifted your weight more fully against the solid contours of Gojo's frame, allowing your fingers to trail upwards in delicate spirals.

"Well?" You arched one brow in playful challenge, throat bobbing on a swallow as your digits mapped higher along the tendons of his powerful neck. "Are you going to actually follow through, or am I going to have to take the initiative here?"

For one heated beat, Gojo simply held your pointed stare in taut suspension—the atmosphere between you both seeming to atomize down into charged ionization particles awaiting the slightest catalyst to detonate. Then, his lips curved higher in a lopsided smirk you'd come to recognize as pure, unrepentant recklessness sublimating into physical form.

"You're going to have to come and get it, gorgeous," he rumbled, the raspy undercurrents sending delicious frissons shivering along your nerves. "Show me just how badly you've been starving for a real taste all evening."

His dexterous fingers slid up to cup the line of your jaw, thumb sweeping suggestively across your lower lip in a searing caress. You struggled not to whimper at the electrifying friction as Gojo leaned further into your personal space.

However, rather than ducking his head the final few scant inches to seal his mouth hungrily over yours, the insufferable tease merely arched backward—body undulating in a slow, sinuous retreat until he towered over you at his full impressive stature. The tip of his tongue darted out to lave his lower lip in clear relish, eyes glinting with wicked invitation as he silently dared you to make good on rising to his heated gauntlet.

A thrill of excitement and determination lanced through your chest as you instantly grasped the game afoot. With purposeful, unhurried movements, you allowed your palms to splay across the granite warmth of his abdomen before slowly, teasingly tracking higher in a worshiping glide. Every rippling corde and sinewy groove of his musculature became briefly profiled as you glided your touch upwards - mapping the scorching acreage in ardent appreciation.

Gojo watched your journey with blown pupils and ragged breaths, torso visibly expanding with each shuddering inhalation he dragged against his impressive restraint. You didn't miss the flex and bunching of his arms and shoulders as you passed over his pectorals, clearly fighting not to haul you bodily against him right then and simply crush your pliant frames back into mutual rapture.

But still, he remained steadfast and motionless—a living marble statue gloriously chiseled from pure virile perfection, awaiting your reverent indulgences with a banked smolder burning behind his hooded stare.

Finally, your fingertips dusted across the sharp angles of his jaw and cheekbones, body arching and straining upwards in your single-minded pursuit of that elusive, smug mouth you craved with mounting desperation. Try as you might to extend yourself onto the balls of your feet and go fully up on tiptoes, Gojo maintained a scant whisper of distance—always hovering just out of your reach with an expression of blatant masculine gratification at your squirming efforts.

A huff of breathy frustration nearly slipped free at the persistent denial, only to be silenced by the way Gojo instinctively dipped lower as if to grant your wish...only to arc back with a low, filthy chuckle that reverberated against your now-thundering pulse. It was as much a sensual dance of control and restraint as a taunt or test of wills at this juncture—simply savoring the delirious friction generated as your pliant, questing form sought to twine and pull him down into decadent oblivion, inch by maddening inch.

"Easy there, kitten..." he rasped in a low, smoky cadence designed to further short-circuit your resolve. "Why don't you try dropping to those pretty knees for me? Might give you better leverage and angles to play with in reaching those tempting lips that have been tormenting that insatiable appetite of yours..."

You answered with a full-body shudder and a needy keen spilling free from your very marrow—all thoughts of recalcitrance and willpower now thoroughly banished beneath the inescapable gravity well of Gojo's hypnotic presence and unholy temptations.

You whined out loud, an unguarded noise of pure pleading desire that seemed to momentarily crack through your usually reserved demeanor. "Satoru...please, wanna kiss you so badly."

The raw, plaintive tone of your entreaty hung in the air between you, heavy with naked yearning in a way that gave even Gojo pause. His brilliant eyes seemed to smolder brighter for an instant, no doubt dredging up fond recollections of past occasions where he'd so thoroughly unraveled your ironclad poise and reduced you to this state.

Rather than pounce on your vulnerability or tease further, however, Gojo's expression softened ever so slightly. One broad palm cradled the back of your skull as he ducked in closer, guiding your trembling frame until your brows nearly brushed.

"Since you asked so nicely..." he murmured, deep timbre emerging somewhere between a graveled purr and heated rumble.

You barely managed a shuddering inhalation before Gojo sealed his mouth over yours in a searing brand of possession. The initial clash of lips and tongue was something closer to an elemental force than a mere intimate exchange—not at all gentle, but rife with pent-up longing and ravenous need finally given free rein.

Your fingers instinctively knotted in the soft fabric of his shirt as Gojo laid an utterly thorough claim upon your senses. He swallowed each desperate little noise and whimper that punched free as if savoring the most delectable of delicacies. One thick forearm banded around your lower back to anchor you fully against his solid frame as he deepened the devouring cadence with relentless intensity.

A husky growl of clear approval and gratification rumbled against your slick, swollen mouth as Gojo momentarily allowed a scant parting for air. "Fuck...I'd almost forgotten how greedy and eager this talented little tongue can get," he grated with clear relish.

You could only pant and squirm fitfully in answer, thoughts scattered like dandelion seeds on a breeze. Gojo simply chuckled richly—the timbre vibrating straight through your very cells in a way that somehow untethered your feet from the ground entirely.

The next thing you clearly registered were his powerful arms banding beneath the backs of your thighs to haul you securely against his body in one smooth, easy motion. Your startled yelp melted into a tremulous sigh as the bunching plains of his torso and abdomen braced your arched spine in a sublime full-body embrace.

"Don't go passing out on me before the real fun starts," Gojo husked against the thundering pulse at your nape, even as his long strides carried you across the threshold of your apartment. "I've got plans for putting that gifted mouth to far better uses than just kissing..."

With your legs now locked around his narrow hips, you could feel every delicious ridge and twitch of his growing erection grinding against your dampening heat through the flimsy barriers separating you. A piteous whine slipped free as the swaying rhythm of his determined gait threatened to unravel you down to your very foundation.

"That's it, let me hear just how desperate I've got you aching to taste me properly again," Gojo growled against the whorl of your ear, each guttural rasp sparking fresh convulsions of need between your thighs. "Been waiting all fucking day to unwrap this gorgeous little prize and savor you inch...by...inch."

Gojo punctuated the lascivious promise by swiveling to carefully lay you out amidst the rumpled linens and cushions—each flickering shadow casting his chiseled features into harsh relief. No more levity or evasion glossed his expression, only the stark severity and zero-compromises focus of a predator fully engaged.

Rather than pounce on you immediately, however, Gojo seemed to pause and simply drink in the sight of your breathless, disheveled state with smoldering intent. His bright eyes roamed over every inch of your upturned features and the generous curves left tantalizingly displayed by your askew clothing.

"Goddamn..." he rumbled in a deep timbre thick with undisguised yearning. "Look at you splayed out for me, practically begging to get worked over already."

You swallowed hard, unable to tear your gaze away from the pure masculine intensity blazing in his stare. There was an undercurrent of restrained hunger there that made your pulse thunder—heady and distinctly feral even as Gojo slowly prowled over your prone body.

Rather than immediately claim you in a reckless flurry of lust, his calloused palms mapped your sides in a languid, purposeful glide all the way up to your rib cage. You arched instinctively into his maddening caresses, whimpering softly in anticipation.

"Easy there, baby..." Gojo murmured in a low rasp against the whorl of your ear. His nose trailed along the thrumming tendons of your neck, clearly savoring the scent of your desire. "You act like it's been months since this pretty pussy has been spread out and stuffed full. And after all the time I spent working you into this gorgeous, wrecked state..."

You squirmed fitfully beneath his unyielding weight, needy whines spilling past your parted lips as Gojo continued leisurely nuzzling and nipping along your jawline and throat. Despite the unhurried leisure of his attentions, you were rapidly spiraling into molten delirium between his hoarse endearments and the tantalizing friction where your bodies met.

"What, so impatient you can't even let me take a second to savor this?" Gojo husked out in a gravel-rough rasp that made you shiver. "I had to spend all damn day thinking about bending you over the second we were alone...so you'll excuse me if I take things slow now that I've got you all wound up and drenched for it."

Emphasizing his point, Gojo slotted one thick, muscular thigh between your parted legs, rocking forward in a slow grind that dragged the solid length of his cock against your molten entrance through the thin barrier separating you. You cried out sharply at the delicious friction, back bowing as frantic nails scoured tracks down his flexing shoulder blades in desperation.

"Yeah...that's it, squirm and moan for me like a good girl," Gojo growled in clear approval, tongue laving a wet path along the fragrant hollow of your throat. "Keep making those filthy sounds and just MAYBE I'll finally give you what you've been gagging for all night."

You could only whimper raggedly in compliance as his mouth moved lower, searing a path from collarbone to the generous swell of your breasts. His large hands cradled and kneaded the soft flesh with relish before tugging the stretchy fabric aside to bare one nipple to the calloused heat of his lips and tongue.

"That's right...let Daddy get his fill and reacquaint himself with every lush goddamn inch," Gojo growled around the rosy peak, sending lightning bolts of sensation zinging straight to your molten core. "Been thinking about sucking and biting these perfect tits all over again ever since you walked into that restaurant looking like a goddamn meal..."

Despite his crude admission, there was an undercurrent of clear reverence and tender devotion laced through his ragged cadences now. Gojo laved and nuzzled at your breasts with all the ardent indulgence of a penitent savoring their last meal before execution. His hooded azure gaze seemed to blaze brighter with each piteous keen and arch you offered up in answer to his lavishing.

Just as you felt yourself ascending the spiraling crescendo toward mindless bliss under his skilled attentions, Gojo abruptly detached from your saturated nipple with a low noise of harsh restraint. You whined plaintively, eyes glassy as your hands reflexively fisted in the front of his shirt—silently pleading for him to resume lapping away at the fiery deprivation swiftly devouring you inside out.

"Easy, baby..." he rasped through gritted teeth, clearly suppressing his own spiraling ardor through sheer force of iron will. "I didn't wait this long to absolutely wreck you just to blow it all on some half-assed foreplay."

Slanting his mouth over yours in another scorching, possessive claim, Gojo cradled your overwrought features between those rough, calloused palms with surprising tenderness.

His thumb smoothed along your cheekbone as the kiss gradually shifted into a slow, sensual undulation.

"Tell me what you want," he murmured against the seam of your lips. "Let Daddy hear you ask for it nice and loud."

The command emerged as a gravelly whisper, though his blazing stare held an unmistakable glint of command. Still, the blatant carnal hunger etched into his expression made you feel positively giddy and invincible as your fingertips trailed along the corded lines of his powerful throat.

"I want you inside me, Sensei," you pleaded, voice pitching into a breathy whine. "Please, I need to feel you filling me up again."

Gojo groaned, clearly relishing the shameless admission and the way your thighs clenched reflexively around his hips. You could feel the rigid contours of his cock twitching eagerly against your slickened folds through the layers separating you.

"Fuck, the mouth on you," he rasped, nipping lightly at the underside of your jaw. "You know what it does to me when you call me that."

"Good," you purred, allowing your fingers to trail higher until they carded through the silky soft strands of his hair. "Now, are you going to stop stalling and show me how much better you are at playing teacher in bed?"

Your bold retort earned a snarl of pure male approval, though the sound quickly tapered into a groan as you deliberately canted your hips to drag the seeping damp of your panties against his throbbing erection. Gojo's fingers instinctively curled tighter around your neck, pinning you into place as he bucked and rolled his pelvis forward to reciprocate the delicious friction.

"Alright then, smartass..." he rasped, pupils blown nearly black with ravenous need as he stared down at your upturned, flushed face. "If that's how you wanna play it, I'm gonna make damn sure you're thoroughly re-educated on who exactly holds the reins here."

Without further ado, his hands drifted down to tug insistently at your waistband, practically shredding the flimsy fabric in his haste to free you from the rest of your clothing. You shivered at the way the cool evening air instantly pebbled across your newly exposed skin, though any instinctive modesty was quickly chased away by the hungry stare drinking in your naked form.

Gojo's expression shifted into a predatory leer, the sight sending another jolt of electric anticipation shooting through your already-jangling nerve endings. "That's better," he rumbled, broad palm skating a path up your inner thigh with unhurried reverence. "Nothing should be allowed to hide such a perfect view of my favorite fucking dessert."

You bit back a whimper at the possessive timbres lacing his gravel-rough voice, thighs twitching restlessly as Gojo's touch continued mapping higher. Finally, his questing fingertips slid into the sticky slick coating your swollen folds, dragging the copious evidence of your desire back to where your clit throbbed with need.

"Oh, look at that..." Gojo practically cooed, the filthy delight and awe laced through his voice sending a fresh rush of warmth spilling out against his dexterous ministrations. "Daddy's been neglecting his baby girl, and she's absolutely soaking wet already. How long has my gorgeous kitten been aching like this, hmm?"

The words emerged somewhere between a teasing croon and a gravelly growl, and you could only shudder and keen as Gojo continued rubbing maddening circles over your hypersensitive bud. The friction was already pushing you rapidly to the edge, and judging by the way Gojo's hooded gaze flickered up to watch your rapture, he could tell as much.

"Ah-ah...no cumming until you beg Daddy to fuck you properly," he rasped, even as his index and ring fingers dipped shallowly into your fluttering channel—teasing and stretching the seeping velvet heat in a way that made you sob out loud. "Don't make me have to punish you for being so naughty, kitten. You know I can keep you on the edge all night if I need to."

Your spine bowed and back arched as you writhed and thrashed beneath his touch, a litany of breathy whimpers and pleas falling from your kiss-swollen lips. "Please, please, Daddy, don't tease me," you begged shamelessly, the words nearly slurring together with raw need. "I'll be a good girl, I swear. Please, please just fuck me..."

Gojo's gaze sharpened with clear gratification as you entreated his mercy, and he finally eased off on the merciless friction between your thighs. Your lungs burned with the force of gulping down ragged lungfuls of air, but you were given scant reprieve before his hands gripped and lifted your thighs, effortlessly hauling you closer and spreading them wide.

"There's my good girl," he murmured, the raw timbre of his voice sending delicious frissons shivering across your fever-warm skin. "Such a sweet little angel when you finally submit."

With one more brief nip at the delicate flesh of your inner thigh, Gojo began working the fly of his trousers open, finally freeing his massive erection. He stroked and pumped his straining shaft a few times for good measure, eyes raking across your splayed, naked form with clear relish.

"Look at how pretty this tight little pussy is, dripping all over my fingers and cock just begging to get filled," he grunted, lining the bulbous crown against your quivering entrance and rubbing it back and forth through the sticky arousal saturating your folds.

A pitiful keen slipped past your parted lips at the taunting pressure, and you could feel a fresh gush of slickness welling up in response to his crass praise. Gojo smirked at the telltale reaction, one calloused palm sliding down to part the plush folds of your pussy even further.

"Goddamn, look how wet and greedy this is for me," he rumbled in a low tone thick with pure male satisfaction. "Bet you were fantasizing about having Daddy's cock stuffing this pretty cunt the whole time we were sitting there in that restaurant. Isn't that right, kitten?"

Your brain was barely capable of stringing together a coherent thought, much less a snarky comeback, but somehow the words slipped free despite the mindless delirium clouding your head. "Y-you were the one who wouldn't stop teasing," you moaned, squirming fitfully against the delicious pressure poised at your molten core. "Can't say I wasn't tempted to drag you into the bathroom and suck you off..."

The words dissolved into a keening cry as Gojo abruptly slammed into the hilt, filling you to the brim and beyond in one brutal, unyielding stroke. Your legs reflexively locked around his hips and lower back as he immediately began pounding into your clenching walls, each powerful thrust punching the breath from your lungs.

"Is that so, sweetheart?" Gojo gritted out, hissing through clenched teeth as the clutching vice of your inner walls seemed to squeeze the very life from his engorged shaft. "You were just planning on being a dirty little tease the whole time we were at dinner? What a fucking minx..."

Gojo punctuated the statement by angling your hips upward to drill even deeper, each merciless thrust nudging the sensitive spot at the very end of your channel until the pressure sent stars exploding behind your eyelids. The only sounds that could emerge were a series of broken mewls and wordless whines, utterly incapable of doing anything but lay there and take the exquisite torment of his unrelenting, devastating pace.

"Yeah, that's it, let me feel just how desperately you've been needing this," he snarled, large hands gripping your waist as his pelvis hammered a merciless rhythm against your overstimulated sex. "Soak this fucking cock like a good little kitten. Don't hold back on me, baby. Show me how much you missed Daddy's cock and I might let you cum."

You could barely process the filth spilling free from his mouth at this point, each syllable dissolving into an electric buzz as his ruthless assault stoked the pressure mounting inside you. It was a familiar, heady rush of sensation—a coiling tension that seemed to grow tighter and more unbearable with every punishing roll of Gojo's hips against yours.

He was driving you toward a cliff's edge without pause or quarter, and the sheer force of his intensity was dizzying. Yet, despite the frantic, almost savage cadence, you could feel the subtle shift in his grip and angle as Gojo's gaze bored into your face. Even in the midst of his own delirium, the sheer focus and attentiveness in his stare was intoxicating.

"F-fuck, I'm so close," you gasped out, feeling your core spasming and clutching against the rigid pistoning length impaling you. You feebly reached out, desperate for any kind of anchor amidst the relentless tidal wave of sensation threatening to pull you under. "Satoru...please, want you to kiss me again."

Without missing a beat, Gojo's hands shifted, scooping you up until you were practically cradled in his lap. Your legs reflexively locked around his hips and midsection, ankles hooking together as his thrusts never paused. The new position left your torso arching up toward his chest, and Gojo quickly took advantage, slanting his mouth over yours with renewed hunger.

Each slide and curl of his tongue seemed perfectly in time with the driving roll of his hips, and the added closeness was swiftly becoming too much. You were hurtling toward the edge of the abyss, and this time, Gojo seemed intent on taking you down with him.

"My perfect girl, taking my cock like such a good little slut," he gritted out, one hand tangling in your hair while the other braced your back, keeping your bodies fused together. "Been dreaming about this tight cunt for fucking days, and it's even better than I remember. Now be a good kitten and soak Daddy's cock for me."

You could feel yourself tumbling over the precipice even before Gojo's hand snaked down to thumb your clit, and the dual assault was all it took to send you reeling into blinding euphoria. Your climax hit like a freight train, ripping through you with an almost painful intensity that left your toes curling and vision blurring.

Gojo continued thrusting his full length in a rapid-fire tempo, hissing out a strangled groan as the spasms of your inner walls finally dragged him into the depths of oblivion alongside you. Your limbs felt like jelly, and you were grateful for his grip holding you steady as the waves of rapture subsided.

He didn't release you, though, not right away. Rather, Gojo simply held you in his arms, his cheek pressed to the side of your head and the slow rise and fall of his chest syncing with yours. The two of you remained silent for a long moment, simply breathing together as the room gradually stopped spinning around you.

Eventually, Gojo pulled back enough to cup your jaw and slant his mouth over yours in another gentle, exploratory kiss. It was nothing like the devouring claims and searing conquests that had preceded it, and the tenderness in the simple press of lips left you feeling utterly weightless.

When Gojo finally withdrew, the smirk curling his lips was positively self-satisfied. "I'd say that’s enough foreplay, wouldn't you, baby?"

You could only huff a soft laugh in response, shaking your head as the residual tremors of bliss faded. "You consider thatforeplay?"

"Oh, I'm sorry, was I too gentle?" he retorted, feigning a look of innocent confusion. "Maybe we should try round two, then. I'll give you a chance to demonstrate what you meant about sucking me off."

The words emerged in a low, silky murmur as his large hands gripped and squeezed the supple curves of your ass, eliciting a soft squeal from you. You smacked at his broad chest ineffectually, unable to fight the grin tugging at your own mouth.

"You're incorrigible."

"That's not a no," Gojo pointed out, his smug expression practically radiating his unrepentant satisfaction. "And if you keep acting all cute and sassy, I can't promise I'll be able to resist the urge to bend you over and remind you exactly who's in charge."

Your stomach fluttered at the casual, nonchalant admission. It was an undeniable thrill knowing just how badly Gojo craved this—craved you. The thought alone was enough to send a fresh wave of warmth flooding through your veins.

"Maybe I'm not opposed to the idea," you murmured, biting down on your lower lip as you glanced up through your lashes.

The look was clearly too much for Gojo's self-control. His eyes darkened with fresh desire, and his grip shifted to lift and turn you so that you were sprawled facedown across the rumpled cushions.

"Well, in that case," he growled, the heat and weight of his body blanketing yours as his hips pressed flush to the swell of your backside. "Let's see just how filthy this mouth is, shall we?"

The room seemed to exist in its own hushed, velvety cocoon of tranquility - a stark contrast to the ferocious passion that had consumed every inch mere moments ago. You lay draped languidly across Gojo's powerful frame with your cheek pillowed on the rises and valleys of his chest. The steady thrum of his heartbeat reverberated through your lashes in a soothing cadence.

One of your hands traced idle, featherlight patterns over the expanse of his toned abdomen - mapping the ridges and grooves so recently sheened and flexing under your ardent worshiping. Gojo remained equally at peace beneath your sprawled embrace, those brilliant azure irises at half-mast while he reclined with one arm crooked behind his head.

Despite the palpable aura of repletion surrounding you both, a new undercurrent began to gradually assert itself in the weighted stillness. You felt compelled to disturb the quietude to address what this entire evening had truly culminated towards - the deal quietly brokered between heated sheets and joined bodies.

"I'll contact the elders first thing," you murmured, the words seeming to slip free before your mind fully grasped their implication. "About postponing Itadori Yuji's case, like you wanted."

Gojo's chest expanded minutely on a slow inhale, but otherwise his statuesque form remained comfortably inert as your words hung in the air between you. After several beats, you felt the subtle weight of his stare alighting on your upturned features.

"Yeah?" His resonant timbre emerged in a low, stripped rasp - sounding as thoroughly unraveled as the rest of his carefully compartmentalized composure. "They'll actually listen to your stance on something so high-stakes?"

You allowed your own eyes to slip shut in a protracted blink, thoughts rapidly trying to align and process how to even begin verbalizing the sheer revelations that had bloomed open tonight about your place within the jujutsu hierarchy.

"I didn't fully grasp it at first," you admitted, voice coming out slightly roughened from earlier exertions. "But now I'm starting to understand the actual leverage my positioning and reputation has afforded without me even noticing."

Rather than respond directly, the only sound came from a protracted exhalation through Gojo's nose - seeming to signal his grasp of the situation finally mapping out as well. You hoped he also understood just how monumental a gambit he'd set into motion by hammering the truth home in his uniquely heated approach tonight. Not to induce guilt, per se...but perhaps a smidgeon more humility about the harrowing stakes being juggled.

As if sensing the direction of your thoughts, Gojo abruptly shifted his weight until you were rolled over onto your back - his solid bulk carefully blanketing yours without pressure. When your gazes met and locked, you felt that simmering connection arc back into incandescence once more between your joined frames.

"You continue underestimating yourself," he murmured in a timbre now rendered warm gravel thanks to its gravelly softness. He cupped the side of your jaw, thumb tracing the bow of your lips in a barely-there caress that spoke to so much more than surface motions. "Which is exactly why I'm never going to stop knocking some sense into that stubborn head of yours..."

With that throaty declaration, Gojo dipped his chiseled features lower until your foreheads brushed - noses scanting along one another in an electrifying gossamer graze. The intimacy of the motion seemed to steal your very breath straight from your lungs as he carried on in a husked rasp.

"So thank you. For listening to reason and actually wielding your power for once when it really mattered..."

Unable to resist the unspoken pull between your joined gravities any longer, you surged up to seal Gojo's mouth in a slow, simmering clash of satin flesh and indulgent possession. All the unvoiced sentiments and roiling tides of turbulence hovered for a suspended eternity within that singular nexus point before gradually dispersing into peaceful becalm once more.

Eventually Gojo broke away with the barest hint of a crooked smile tugging at those stupidly perfect lips, clearly satisfied with your acquiescence for the time being. The two of you simply basked in silence for a while longer, relishing in this well-earned moment of bonded lassitude.

That is, until the first stirrings of Gojo's impish irreverence inevitably bubbled back up in the form of his rich baritone laced with none-too-subtle swagger:

"So...I take it this means I get to thoroughly ruin you again before breakfast? No more insufferable teasing about you not putting out until your higher-up buddies get their precious signatures?"

You scoffed out a long-suffering sound of semi-amused exasperation, already anticipating the thick cloud of smug virility about to descend. Sure enough, Gojo's chest puffed with unrepentant satisfaction as he slung one heavy arm around your waist and lightly squeezed.

"That's what I thought. Face it kitten, that pretty pussy has officially been drafted into service under my uncompromising authority until further notice..."

He punctuated the lewd declaration by slanting his mouth over yours in a deliriously thorough deluge of hunger and virility, effectively stealing your very breath for a second rapturous cycle before exhaustion could dare creep back in.

And as your joined frames spiraled back into the delirious vortex of blissful dissipation once more, you couldn't help hazarding one last, bemused thought: somehow, you got the distinct impression Gojo would be exercising his latest "authority" over you with particularly unrestrained enthusiasm this time around.

[freaktoru]

summary: choi jong-in x fem!reader - what happens when you mix business with pleasure? warnings: dirty talk, pnv, unprotected sex, fingering, dubcon kinda, praise kink, reader is oblivious. authors note: this man is criminally underrated. we need more of him. let this fic be a pivotal moment for us all. ty for reading, likes and reblogs always appreciated <3

choi jong-in was a very successful man.

everyone knew this. he was one of south korea's most powerful s-rank hunters, and the guild master of south korea's most powerful guild, the hunters guild. don't be mistaken though, being known as ‘the ultimate hunter’ was no easy task. choi jong-in was under contstant pressure of having to keep up his public appearances on behalf of his entire guild, and balance the enormous workload of being the top guild master in the country. there was no denying it—he was indeed successful but he was also very busy. so that's why he hired you. as his personal assistant, having you around was most helpful to him. within a few days of your hire, you managed to cut his own workload in half and thanks to you, he was able to take the smoke breaks he so desperately needed during his work day and he was finally able to get home at a reasonable hour of the night. it was safe to say that you were his salvation.

you stood in front of his office door, wearing your regular office uniform, holding a thick stack of papers. jong-in had given you a specific dress code to follow when he hired you—composed of a white blouse, black stiletto heels and a dark red pencil skirt. you weren't sure why he picked the colour red for you, but you thought better than to question it. he was paying you twice as much as any other personal assistant positions did so it was important you did everything in your power to keep it. the door finally swung open, revealing his tall frame. not only was he successful, but he was also very attractive, his aura alone was enough to turn heads anytime he stepped foot outside. you knew this well, having been on the receiving end of it many times. he was dressed in his usual red suit and rectangular glasses, his fingers covered in his signature gold rings. his lips were curled up in a crooked smirk and he was watching, no—studying you.

"m-mr. choi you wanted to see me?" you stuttered out the question nervously. you weren't sure why he wanted to see you, but whatever the reason, you had a bad feeling about it.

"ah yes. come in please" he replied, stepping aside to make room for you. you walked inside his office which you spent most of your time in, sorting and filing papers, cleaning his desk and doing work on your laptop from the sleek black couch that stood across the room, perpendicular to his desk.

"i-i also brought the reports you requested on sung jinwoo, i completed them early" you managed to say, trying to keep yourself calm and collected.

"mmm, ever so diligent. good girl" he hummed approvingly, the praise sending a positive rush of blood to your cheeks. you handed him the papers, his fingers ghosting over your skin ever so lightly as he took them from you. “please, take a seat” he said, his hand motioning towards the couch. you complied, placing your hands on your knees to stop your legs from bouncing nervously. he sat himself down in an armchair across from you, placing his elbows on his knees and leaning his chin into his folded hands.

"you look nervous" he chuckled lightly, his eyes still fixed on you. you blushed, averting your eyes from his piercing gaze. "i'm just worried that you're not satisfied with my work sir" you admitted, looking down at your hands. it was true—despite his occasional praises and wide smiles, he was a perfectionist, he liked things done a certain way and he certainly made sure his employees knew that.

"you know," he started, leaning back in his arm chair, crossing his ankle over his leg "i've never kept an assistant for longer than two months at a time" he finished, smiling. a few moments later he added, "do you know why that is?"

"i-i'm not sure. how come?" you replied slowly, unsure of what was coming for you next. he was full of surprises— never quite saying what he meant, often leaving you with more questions than answers.

"because if there's one thing i despise, it's people who work less efficiently than me" he replied casually, observing you, waiting to see how you'll react. there it was again—his puzzling demeanor that never failed to keep you on your toes.

"i-i'm sorry, i'll do my best to get things done faster and—"

"ah ah, i didn't say that about you did i?" he clicked his tongue, cutting off your restless rambling. you felt your mouth zip shut, resolving to let him finish before you made any further assumptions.

"as i was going to say, you're different" he stated simply. you waited for him to elaborate because this could have meant anything, good or bad. "you're so good you know? perfect really. in all your time here you've made maybe one or two mistakes, all within your first week of work" he continued, "and that's exactly what i like about you" he finished carefully. he held your gaze, watching you fidget nervously. his words sent a warm rush of pleasure through your body, which settled low in your core. a semblance of hope returned to you—maybe you were going to keep your job after all.

before you had a chance to thank him for his praise, he asked, "tell me y/n, do you like working for me?" shifting the conversation. your eyes widened at the question. choi jong-in was a very generous employer to say the least. not only did he pay you more than any other job you’ve had, but he frequently bought you lunches without even asking, brought you coffee in the morning, and praised you like you’ve never been praised before. yes, generous he was.

“of course, you’re very kind and i’m treated better here than any other job i've had in the past so, thank you" you replied softly, hoping that he intended to keep you employed. he stood up from his armchair abruptly, and plopped himself down right beside you on the couch. you shifted nervously, waiting for his next move.

“you’re a sweet girl aren’t you?” he asked, his velvety voice alone enough to have you pressing your thighs together. and what a sweet girl you were. always so attentive and eager to please. you had everything done on time if not early, always complying with all of his requests and doing your best to make yourself useful to him. you blamed it all on his commanding presence but deep down you knew that there was more to it. you craved his attention, wanting nothing more than to hear sweet praises dripping from his lips when you did something right.

“i try my best” you replied, your voice shallow and breathless. when did it get so hot in here?

“you know what i’d like to know?” he asked, but before he let you answer, he continued, “i'd like to know what sweet girls like you look like when they come undone” he whispered, tucking a stray piece of hair behind your ear. the air was thick with tension and somehow his lips found themselves mere inches from yours—you hadn’t even noticed how close he was to you until now. you felt heat pool in your lower stomach which you quickly noticed took form in the slick that coated your panties.

"s-sir" you uttered, no longer worried about your employment, your thoughts now clouded with excitement and lust. you hadn't realized how badly you actually wanted him until now. all those stolen glances in his office, the praises, the lunches, it wasn't just because he was being nice.

and that's when you felt the tension snap. his lips quickly met yours, kissing you with a hunger you somehow knew only you could have cured. you eagerly kissed back, allowing his tongue to explore the inside of your mouth. how you'd go back to being boss and assistant after this? you didn't know. but in this moment nothing mattered but the feel of his soft, warm lips on yours. he tasted faintly of mint and cigarettes—as expected from a chainsmoker like himself.

jong-in broke the kiss momentarily. he stood, taking his blazer off and rolling up his sleeves to his elbows, revealing his expensive golden watch. this man really did love luxury. the sight had you practically drooling. you unbuttoned a few buttons of your blouse in a pathetic attempt to escape the heat but you had a feeling this stifling heat would remain as long as a choi jong-in— a fire mage type hunter, was in your presence. you gasped when he lifted you easily, your legs wrapping around his torso as if on instinct. he walked you over to his desk, placing you down rather gently so you were sat on display for him, instantly squeezing your thighs together at the realization of how you looked, embarrassed to be in such a position in front of your boss. "ah ah, don't shy away from me" he cooed, gently tapping your thigh with two fingers, making you open your legs reluctantly.

and before you knew it, his lips were back on yours, claiming your mouth as his. you felt his fingers travel up and down your thigh, eventually reaching your soaked panties. "oh? if i had known you were this much of a slut i would have done this a lot earlier" he teased, pushing your panties aside and coating his slender fingers in your slick. "s-sir—ah" you moaned right before he pushed two ringed fingers inside of you while continuing to rub your sensitive clit with the pad of his thumb. you whimpered at the feeling, throwing your head back in pleasure, letting him play with you however he pleased.

he was pushing you close to the edge. you felt the buildup in your core waiting, begging to be released. "please, sir—ah, i'm going to cum" you whined, relishing in the pleasure he was giving you with just two of his fingers. "mmm, no you won't. not like this" he practically purred, a smirk of satisfaction plastered on his face. he pulled his fingers out of you right before you could finish, leaving you high and dry. "why not?" you asked while exhaling shaky breaths. you couldn't believe that choi jong-in, your boss, had you all worked up from just his fingers. "you'll see" he replied simply, once again leaving you questioning his true intentions.

he put one hand on your waist and the other on your shoulder, slowly pushing your back down on the desk and leaning over you. that's when you understood exactly what he meant. you gasped as he started placing soft, wet kisses down your neck, and unbuttoning your blouse to reach your chest. you closed your eyes shut, letting out soft mewls of pleasure as he wrapped his lips around your left nipple, licking it, sucking it, and kissing the soft skin around it. you felt an overwhelming need for him, from the teasing and edging earlier to this. you were unable to contain it any longer. "please sir, i need more" you keened, hoping he understood what 'more' meant. "more what? use your words sweetness" he murmured against your skin. "i need you inside me, please sir" you managed to utter, your cheeks flushing pink.

he removed his mouth from your tits, lifting his head to look at you through half lidded eyes. he chuckled, and without another word, he wrapped his strong arms around your thighs, pulling you closer to him, where he stood at the edge of the desk. he lifted your skirt, bunching it up around your waist so he had better access. you propped yourself up on your elbows, wanting to admire him a little more. you felt another wave of pleasurable heat wash through you, settling in your already soaked panties at the mere sight of him unbuckling his belt. his eyes lingered on you, studying your reactions to his every move. he let the belt drop to the floor, moving to unbuckle his pants. your eyes widened at the sight of his hardened cock, wondering how all of that was going to fit.

"are you ready baby?" he asked softly, hovering over you and slowly prodding your dripping entrance with his cock. you whimpered, bucking your hips impatiently. "so impatient" he muttered, slowly sliding his cock into your hole, filling every inch of you. "nngh sir—" you moaned, arching your back off the desk, trying to adjust to his girth. but he didn't move, and he wouldn't move until he heard his name roll off your tongue. "sir is used for business. does this—" he thrusted into you once making you gasp with pleasure, "feel like business to you?" he asked, smiling coyly. "n-no" you stammered. "what's my name?" he demanded, standing still, his cock buried deep inside you while he waited for his answer. "mr. choi" you replied, hoping that was what he wanted to hear. spoiler alert, it wasn't. "wrong." he thrusted into you again, making you suck in a sharp breath. "jong-in" you mewled at the pleasurable sensation of his dick hitting your sweet spot.

and that was what made him snap. the swore that the sound of his name on your lips was the sweetest sound he had ever heard. he pulled out slightly before slamming into you, making you cry out. he began pounding into you, one hand gripped your waist so hard you felt bruises forming and the other closed around your neck, choking you lightly. the feeling of the cold metal of his rings was a divine contrast for your burning skin. "fuck sweetness— you feel so good" he rasped, quickening his pace. his hair was messy, and his glasses had slid down his nose— the sight was purely erotic. you felt a flame ignite between your thighs, feeling yourself approaching your climax yet again, hoping that he would let you finish this time. "jong-in" you moaned breathlessly, unable to formulate a full sentence. "i know baby—fuck i'm gonna cum" he groaned, feeling his dick twitching with need inside of you. "ah—" you cried out, body going still as you finally felt the sweet release you were waiting so patiently for. jong-in followed, eyes shut and head hanging low, breathing heavy breaths while he finished inside of you.

as you came down from your high, your mind had started to clear and it finally dawned on you. oh my god. you had just fucked your boss, who was also the guild master of the most well known guild in the country. oh fuck. jong-in finally pulled out, buckling himself back up. he looked over at you, admiring the sight of you laying on his desk all fucked out—a sight he’d been waiting too long to produce. you sat up, looking up at him. he lifted a hand to your cheek, brushing his thumb lightly over its soft flesh. “good girl, you did so well for me” he praised, his words enough to make you melt. you really did have a thing for praise. “thank you” you mumbled shyly, unsure of how things would be after this. nothing could be the same after sex this good. he tapped your cheek lightly before dropping his hand back to his side, walking across his office to his private bathroom. he spent a few minutes in there and stepped out, holding a wet, warm towel which he used to clean you up.

the stark contrast between how rough he’d been during the sex and how gently he was cleaning you up made your head spin. would he fire you now? was it good enough for him? was he going to do it again? “stop thinking so much” he muttered, pulling you back from your thoughts. “huh?” you asked, worried that you were speaking out loud the whole time. “you have that frown on your face. i’ve noticed you frown that way when you’re overthinking something” he explained. wow, he really was attentive. “sorry” you mumbled in response, still worried about your future at the guild and your future with him.

he finished cleaning you up and you slid off the desk, shocked to find that your heels had stayed on during this whole process. your feet hurt, so you opted to take them off, your height shortening by about 4 inches. he seemed even taller now. jong-in wrapped a hand around the back of your neck and leaned down. he kissed you softly, gently, reassuring you with just his lips. he pulled away, smiling, and said “now sweetness, tell me about those reports you brought in”. looks like you were keeping the job after all.

© @blessedmisery 2025.

[clawsdevour]

how many floors left

wc: 1.7k content warning: public sex, smut, fingering, kissing, established relationship, not proofread, multi-fandom x reader

•°. *࿐

Entering your workplace which is a big tall glass building with about 70 floors, you come in your professional attire daily. Hair and makeup nicely done, wearing your pencil skirt, an ironed blouse and black stockings which matched with your shiny black heels. The jewelry you picked today complemented your eyes and matched the rest with your outfit. You worked under the CEO of the company, as his assistant. Little did the whole company know that you were secretly dating him.

Dating at work was strictly prohibited to ensure that the work environment is productive, and not filled with gossip and toxicity. You crossed over a few rules with this. One, you started dating one of the people you have to engage with on a daily basis at your workplace. And two, the person you were dating is the CEO, the person you work the most with. It was like he was bending the work rules for you. However, you both were able to put up a front where you’re both completely professional on work grounds. But not whenever you were in his office with him alone.

You scan your ID card to clock in before heading to the elevators. You noticed how unusually empty it was that day. Am I late, or am I just way too early for today’s scheduled meeting? You pondered to yourself for a moment. Usually to prepare for meetings you decide to come at least 20 minutes earlier than when the gathering is held. It’s normally bustling at that time, with some people here asking to clarify the documents and some people still finishing up their papers. About to press the call button for the elevator, you hear a clicking sound coming from behind. A male figure was walking towards you and the elevator you’ve chosen to use even though there were plenty available. His finger touches the button before you could hit it. Looking up with a stern look on your face to see who beat you to the race, it was no one else other than your boyfriend who you’ve been dating in secret.

“Good morning, Miss. I see you’ve come earlier for today’s meeting,” extra emphasis on the Miss to toy with you. He’s holding himself back from smirking to keep it professional in case anyone's around. He cleared his throat, turning his attention to watch the number of floors race down to your level.

“Morning Mr. CEO. I see you also came early but what for? I’m the one who’s preparing the meeting for you,” you’re looking at him like he’s got something up his sleeve. Typically he comes to the meeting right when it’s starting, you never see him come early because you actually do your job right.

“Just wanted to help. I’m your boss overall, I’m here to help you submit your work to me,” he chuckled. Rolling your eyes, the elevator stops at floor one. Smoothly opening its doors upon entry, you both step in. 

About to click the same floor, he exchanges a look that says You can press it. Returning the favor, you press it for him. The meeting was located on one of the top floors of the whole building, floor sixty-nine. The doors closed, creating that gravitational pull as the elevator is about to take off into the air. You stood shoulder length apart with your boss.

“Sooo… now that we’re alone would you mind telling me why you’re such a tease this early morning? What did you do before getting here..?” Naturally you’re curious why he was in such a good mood, this early. Usually he’s the grumpiest and coldest person alive in the morning. You pondered, He must’ve done something devious, but what would he do before even getting to work besides eating and getting dressed? Catching his attention with your words, he looks down at you, practically beaming with joy. 

“Because I wanted to come early to.. I don’t know.. get some alone time with you, since you know.. the rules, even though I’m basically running this company” he’s stepping towards you, making you walk into the wall backwards. Your ass touches the handrail of the elevator leaving you nowhere else to run. His actions have your mouth parted in surprise. You always thought he didn’t even know his own rules, he’s just a man living carefree while running a big company. 

Finger on your chin, tilting your head up so you’d look at him. His sinful eyes narrowed looking into your eyes. You’re starting to turn a light pink hue as you grasped onto the handrail, as if it was gonna help you achieve anything. 

“Do you really want to do this.. at work?” Both of you are very aware that there’s just a one in a million chance of getting caught this early in the office. You just have to pray that no one’s already on one of the floors pressing the button for their departure. 

His lips lightly brush against yours, a simple peck that you wanted more of. He knew that of course. Noticing that you’re currently at floor 17, it was gonna be a long ride up and you both had time to waste while you stood in the traveling structure. Pulling his head down to meet yours with your hands, your lips meet once more. His hands tightly gripped your waist to draw your body closer to his as you two shared a long passionate kiss. Sliding your hands down to his shoulders, you held onto him as you sloppily fought with tongue for dominance.

His right knee gradually started to come in between the soaring heat your legs produced. Slamming you down against the wall for support as he started to rub his knee harshly against your stiff pencil skirt, getting it to scrunch up at your waist. Enough to edge you on, he’s grinding his knee against your damp and sensitive clothed clit. You can’t help but moan into the kiss, sparking more arousal to catch onto your panties. Your arms wrapped around his neck as you part from the kiss, head laying on his shoulder feeling the sensations he’s creating from under. He’s kissing the crook of your neck. Fluttering your hazed eyes, you were currently at floor 24. Getting a lot of fun before prepping the company meeting in a timely manner that’s worth the same time as traveling seven floors up, not bad. 

Your worries and concerns dissolved when he put two fingers on your clothed cunt. Feeling your wetness increase due to the thrill, he snickers at you.

“How many floors have we got left baby?” Whispering in your ear, his hot breath makes your skin flinch. You squint back at the small digital screen displayed above the buttons. 

“Umm.. 39. Wait no, 36 floors. Well it’s moving up,” enjoying the adrenaline he plants another kiss on your lips. 

“Haha, that’s so much time to let us get down.” Looking down, you feel a slight tug on the sides of your panties. His hands were at work pulling them down just enough to have your bare cunt exposed, leaving you to quiver as the chilled office air touched your wet pussy. His fingers on your clit, you’re holding on to his biceps covered by his blazer as he moves his digits in slow small circles. Breathing out whimpers of pleasure, he kisses your collarbone, inhaling your scent. 

“I love the smell of your perfume. How do you smell and look so good every morning? I know I don’t show it, but whenever I see you running around the office I can’t help but stare. You’re so beautiful, you know that?” He cooed, increasing the pace of his fingers that traced your clit multiple times with no end. You’re whining, trying to push his right arm off your clit, overstimulated. 

“We’re nearing.. floor 50 M-Mr. CEO” stuttering, high off the pleasure. You can’t help your legs as they start to twitch and shake from him teasing your swollen clit.

“Oh, please.” Resisting your hands that try to push him back, he plunges his fingers into you. His left hand takes your weak grip off him, leading you close to his freshly shaven jawline, landing a kiss on your knuckles. 

“I’ll make you finish before we arrive,” giving you a defiant look, he finds your sweet spot. Your back arches against the traveling elevator wall as he pokes and curls his fingers inside you. Secreting more fluids that started to drip down onto his knuckles, the squelching noises grew audibly. His head was slightly glancing over his shoulder to count down how many floors were left. Currently, at the 59th floor of the building. Feeling the sparks grow unignorable down there, the build up from the pleasure started to occur, your orgasm was awaiting to be unleashed. 

“I.. I’m gonna.. gonna, cum..!” Pulling your head back as you surrender yourself to the pleasure, soft kisses being planted on your jawline. His speed increases rapidly probing at your incoming release, creating a line of milky white froth on his fingers. 

“Cum for me, Miss. On my fingers. I want to feel you clench tightly around my fingers when you cum,” were the words you heard come from his mouth when you orgasmed. Your legs twitched as you felt the gravity in the elevator shift, coming to a halt. Shit. Why did the elevator come to a stop? Your mind was blank, trying to recover from the slightly numb sensation and regain your composure. 

Looking at the floor number, you were only on floor 66. Did someone come in earlier than you to also prepare for the company meeting? He’s looking back with a shocked look of worry flashing in his eyes. Covering your body and exposed bottom with his big build, he puts both his hands at the sides of your head, against the wall as if he’s shielding you from the door. His face screamed out, It’s gonna be okay, you’re not to be blamed. You’re breathlessly trying to look behind him, gazing at the elevator buttons, then with the floor number trying to figure out why it stopped moving. 

You see the elevator doors open where you make eye contact with your coworkers as they peer back at you, as well as the imitating male figure that’s facing towards you, the CEO.

*.༄ TETSUROU KUROO, MIYA OSAMU, TOORU OIKAWA, SATORU GOJO, SUKUNA, KAMO CHOSO, SUNA RINTARO, HAWKS, TARTAGLIA, WRIOTHESLEY, TENGEN UZUI (ALL AGED UP/POST-TIME SKIP), and of course any of your favorite characters!!!

masterlist here

[sweetiecutie]

Ok ok listen-

teacher!valeria x student!reader🫶🫶

(I imagen her and us having "study sessions" she calls us in her classroom to talk about our grades or she calls us in her classroom so she can "help" us with something that we didnt understand 😻😻and could reader be a fem?. if u dont want to do this is ok!!🫶❤️)

Pairing: Valeria Garza x fem! Reader

Warnings: NSFW, smut, university AU!, professor/student trope, age gap implied

A/n: this is literally so sexy, I’m about to cream my fucking pants😩

Okay, so this is a university au, in which Valeria is one of the professors. I have a feeling that she would be teaching something hard and complicated - let’s say math.

Professor Garza is very strict. She’s one of the people who value discipline and order over anything else, punishing everyone who dares disturbing it. Valeria wouldn’t think twice before giving out detentions and extra work for behavior she deems unacceptable within auditorium. Chatting during her lectures? - detention. Forgetting to do homework she gave? - detention and double the amount of exercises you had to be handed over to her due to 3 pm the next day.

Many students fear Miss Garza, many hate her, many like her; but every single one has some sort of respect for her cold and stoic demeanor. Valeria is strict and demanding , but she’s also one of the bestest - many students wish to be teached by her.

And even if it seems nearly impossible, Valeria does have favorites. Very few - 3-4 students in whole university, but boy are they privileged.

Valeria values conformity over anything else. She prefers students that are polite and well-behaved, never causing any commotion or fuss. And you happened to be just that - miss goody two shoes, one of the bestest in your year, never once failing ho hand in whatever assignment Valeria gave you, no matter how complicated or cumbersome the work was.

Garza quickly caught onto your skills, and by the end of first year she already valued you over the rest of your group. Not only the brilliance of your mind, which was capable of so many amazing thing, drew her in; you’re quite a sight for sore eye as well - clothes always neat and ironed, hair framing your pretty face perfectly no matter what, light makeup only highlighting your natural beauty. Valeria couldn’t help her eyes lingering on your soft thighs whenever you decided on wearing a skirt or a dress to uni, flooding her head with images of these exact thighs spread wide before her.

It was quite a challenge for Valeria to find any mistakes in your works. You were a smart little girl, she had no doubts about it at that point. But every time, with extreme effort, professor Garza managed to find all the little flaws in your works. They did seem ridiculous tho, something other math professors wouldn’t even deem as a mistake. So first time this happened you came up to the older woman, asking about your strangely low grade; and Valeria, voice softer with feigned sympathy, patiently explained why she had to grade you so lowly. “I hope you do better next time, hm?” She’d say with a small smile, dismissing you from her classroom. Oh how the sight of your pouting lips and teary eyes got her off

As semester drew nearer to its end your works didn’t seem to improve even a slightest bit. At this point you were convinced that it was something personal - that professor Garza simply disliked you (oh if only you knew). So it was a surprise when Valeria called out for you to stay behind as everyone was leaving after the end of her lecture. You obediently descended the stairs of high auditorium, coming to her desk, standing there patiently as all the students left.

Once alone in the room, Valeria turned to face you, one hip leaning onto the edge of her working desk. Her dark eyes gazed at you from above thin lenses of her reading glasses, arms crossed over her chest making her tits perk up teasingly from within two unmade buttons of her white blouse.

“Y/n, I wanted to talk to you about your grades” she said, her voice sounding a bit softer than usual - voice she used on you only. Your body tensed slightly at her words, your fingers gripping your books more tightly as you looked at her tentatively.

“I made a small research on your academic performance and it seems that you only struggle with my subject. Is there any particular reason to this?” She asked, concern lacing her words.

You bit your tongue, fighting back bitter words of indignation - it was Valeria’s fault only that your grades in math were so low. But you kept silent, gazing dully onto the floor under your feet. Professor Garza heaved a heavy sigh, her heart thrumming loudly within her chest at what she was about to do.

“Y/n, you’re a very smart girl, and I don’t want you to ruin your record because of arithmetics. I can give you some extra credit” she said calmly, your ears perking up at her words.

You looked up at the older woman, obviously surprised - Valeria never gave extra credit, no matter the circumstances. You blinked rapidly a few times - you won’t lose such an opportunity, you’d be a fool if you did.

“Sure, I’d be very grateful!” You said quickly, looking at Valeria with wide eager eyes.

She only smiled at your words, nodding for you to come closer. As you did, she took your books and notes out of your hands, placing them on the faraway side of her desk. “You won’t need these”

As you were going to ask what she meant her warm hand clasped around the back of your neck, slamming you against her desk. With a small squeak you were bent over the table, your cheek squished against some papers scattered on top of it. You felt Valeria’s hot chest pressing against your back, her free hand glided up and down the side of your hip as she whispered into your ear “Now I need you to be a good little girl and spread your legs wider”

And you did. Arousal pooled in the pit of your stomach, making your knees go weak as Valeria’s hand slipped in between your soft thighs - just like she always dreamed of, massaging your soft pussy through thin material of your panties.

Soon enough these same panties were shoved into your mouth to muffle all desperate cries tearing through your chest as to not disturb other professors in nearby auditoriums; three of Valeria’s long fingers fucked in and out of your drooling pussy with loud squelching sounds, her fingertips grazing that one spot deep within you, making your eyes roll and toes curl.

You exited professor Garza’s auditorium on trembling legs, your makeup and hair unnaturally messy, eyes unfocused and bleary but - most importantly - with impeccable record on arithmetics.

But to keep your math performance this way, you had to visit professor Garza some more for extracurricular activities <3

Likes, reblogs and comments are highly appreciated! Writers live off feedback, give us some love<3

[lotte22324]

Hi, this is my first Oneshot ever and I am kinda nervous for yall to see it. This idea randomly popped into my head, I don’t know why.

Also, English is not my first language, so please ignore the mistakes.

Warnings: mentioning of the case and connected SA (but only in the beginning)

Summary: You are a profiler at the BAU. You specialise in linguistic analysis and also in having a pretty cutsie style. You and Spencer are both working late on a case and his stupid long hair annoys him but you luckily got some hairclips with you :)

(These are the bows that I am talking about btw)

You and the team were on the way to Cleveland, attending to a particularly disturbing case. Multiple mutilated victims were found, all indicated signs of sexual assault, post mortem. All of them were women but none of them looked alike. The only thing that they had in common were the position in which they were found. They all were layed down carefully with their arms crossed above their chest.

"The arms are a sign of remorse right?“

"Yeah, it’s clear that the killer has a conflicted conscience in the connection to the murders.“ said Reid. You turned your head to the right side to see your fellow profiler. His hair was long, longer than ever before, he was wearing a purple dress shirt with s simple tie. His converse were matching to yours, the only thing in common with your wardrobe. You were wearing a skyblue blouse with a dark blue pair of pants. The outfit was professional, the hair not so much. You wore two hairclips in the front of your hair because they would often fall in front of your face which annoyed you. The clips had two pink bows attached to them and they matched your pink earrings and nails.

"If the unsub feels guilty about the murders, we might be able to convince him to give himself up“ remarked JJ. Emily looked at her skeptical and held up the letter that the unsub left at the last crime scene, one of six: She will never stop, only I can fix it! "This says otherwise“

"It is weird that he shows signs of remorse but he also seems extremely certain of his resason to murder, what does he need to fix?“ asked Reid while he knitted his eyebrows together, like he always did when he was thinking. It looked too cute, you couldn’t stop the smile creeping up on your face. "Linguistically, it’s clear that the "she“ that he speaks of is one specific person, probably some sort of authority figure for him, probably a mother“ you remarked. Hotchner nodded his head, a plan already in mind. "Y/l/n you will do a linguistic profile, try to find a pattern or identification marks in all of the letters. Reid, look at the geographical pattern, the locations where the bodies were found might give us a clue where the unsub lives. Morgan and Rossi, you two go to the last crime scene, Emily, you and I will interview the families. Lets catch this guy!“

„I guess your stuck with me at the precinct, pretty boy!“ you said playfully to Reid but all he did was blush and turn his head awkwardly to the side. Morgan shoot him a knowing look but you didn’t think about it too much.

Later that evening, you and Reid were the only ones left in the room designated for your investigation. A hot cup of coffee was standing in front of you, you knew you were in for a long nighty You had been looking at these letters for hours on end, trying to find identifying markers. The only thing that became apparent is that the letters and the murders are definitely about the unsubs mother. They were all about 60, the letters showed clear signs of conflicted hatred and love toward the mother and connected abuse. Maybe she hit him or she was just a very dominant personality who commanded all the men in her life and broke their will if she needed to. Reid was also standing in front of his map for the last few hours, rearranging the pins and drawing new circles and xes on it. Looking over, you did not see a clear pattern at all but maybe his genius brain could make sense of all of the colors on the board. Your eyes shifted from the map to him and the way he kept adjusting his hair. He wanted to tuck it behind his ears but it fell into his face again and again. "Ugh, why? Maybe I need to cut my hair again“ he mumbled annoyed. "Nooo, please don’t! I like your hair like this“ you answered quickly. "But its always in my face and whenever I tuck it back, it falls in front of it again“ Reid remarked, pushing his hair back aggressively. But all it did was fall back infront of his ear and Reid let out an annoyed groan. You stood up and moved towards the man: "here, take one of my clips! My hair is long enough so that I can easily tuck it behind my ear“ you said, quickly taking one of the bows out of your hair. As you kept going, the clip in your hand, he looked at you skeptical: "thank you, y/n but I don’t think that would suit me as much as it suits you“

You blushed involuntarily at that indirect compliment, "oh come on, no one is here anymore, you won’t be less of a man if you wear this pink bow in your hair!“ you rolled your eyes as you halted infront of him with a questioning look. „Okay, fine“ he hesitantly answered and you gave him a reassuring smile. You leaned forward, pushing his hair back as you clip in the pink bow. You felt how soft his hair was. As you let your hand trail down his head, you let it linger a bit too long. Just as Spencer cleared his throat, you realized that and let your hand fall quickly to your side. "All done, you look cute“ you blushed as you took a step back. But your blush didn’t compare to his. The minute he saw himself in the reflection of the glass board where he drew his map on, his face turned as red as a tomato. The pink bow clearly on display, matching to yours. Now not only your shoes were matching but also your hair. "Uh, thank you y/n“ he said after a while. But you didn’t even realize what he said because all you could do was stare at him. He had never looked this cute in his life. Not with his glasses, not with any of his haircuts. You felt a fluttering feeling in your tummy. Here he was, Spencer Reid, wearing your pink bow in his hair. You couldn’t believe the sight you were witnessing. Even though you didn’t have an eidetic memory, you would never forget this. As you kept starring at his face, your brain filling with all the accessories of yours Reid could wear, he kept staring right back. But instead of thinking about all the different hair clips you had, he couldn’t stop thinking about how pretty you looked. The slight blush that spread over your face, the blown pupils as they were looking at him. The way your mouth was slightly opened, the curve of your lips perfectly kissable.

"Yo, I forgot my-" Morgan stepped insight, both of you taking a step back, not realizing in the moment how close you two were standing and looking embarrassed towards Morgan. "Uhm, sorry for…disturbing, I just forgot my wallet here“ he said, moving toward the table. Your eyes shifted, there it was, lying underneath all the letters you had just looked at. "Alright, have a good night you two! Pretty bow, Reid, your lil girlfriend should lend you her things more often“ Morgan winked as he walked out of the room. Both of you stood there in silence, looking down onto the floor. Spencer raised his hand in embarrassment and tried to detangle the bow from his hair. "Noo, you look so pretty with it Spencer, you shouldn’t give a damn about Morgans opinion!“ you reassured him. He gave you a smile as his hand slowly fell down. "You know that is not fair“ Reid remarked. "What isn’t fair?" You looked confused. "Well, I would wear anything as long as you think i‘m pretty even if that would be the most impractical thing on this planet.“

"That can’t be true!“ you laughed.

"Do you remember four months ago when we saw that shampoo ad on some billboard in Texas with a man on it with long, shiny hair?“

Honest to god, you really didn’t. "Uhm, not really…“

"Well, you said that you love men with long hair and it seemed like you looked right at me. I, obviously had short hair at that time. But from that moment on, I decided to let my hair grow longer“ Spencer confessed.

"You grew your hair long because of me? Because I said that I find men with long hair prettier? That makes no sense, why would you care what I think about y-" then it hit you. He wanted you to find him attractive. He wanted you to see him as pretty. You took a step towards him, his gaze avoiding you, he seemed more focused on his shoes than on you. "Reid" you said quietly, him still not looking at you. "Spencer, if you don’t look up now, I’ll leave and you’ll never find out what I’m thinking about right now“ you threaten, his gaze hastily rising. You took another step towards him, this time a bit less sure than before. It seemed like time froze as you slowly raised your hand towards Reids face. "May I touch you?" You asked hesitantly, knowing that he wasn’t the biggest fan of non-consensual physical touch. He nodded his head and finally met your gaze. His eyes shifted up and down, between your eyes and lips. As you cupped his cheek, it seemed like the spell on him was broken. His face inched closer and closer until his lips met yours. The tension that you felt for the last few months finally found an escape and both of you seemed to feel relieved. His hands found your waist, as he pulled you closer to his body, your other hand tangling itself up in his hair. After a few moments both of you had to pull away to gasp for air. Smiles crept up on both of your faces as you realized what had just happened. He didn’t let your waist go, you didn’t want him to do that anyway. "You know what, Reid?" You asked humorously.

"What?" He asked back.

"I wanted to do that even before you let your hair grow out“ you answered him truthfully. Ever since you joined the team, you wanted to kiss him. It didn’t matter what his hair looked like or if he wore his glasses or not.

"You’re joking right? All of this agony for nothing then?“ he asked dumbfounded, pointing at his long hair.

"Oh no, definitely not for nothing! I got to see you wearing my pink bow and that is a sight, that I will never forget!“ you giggled and pulled him into a hug that he happily reciprocated.

P.S.: I hope you guys liked this, it is kinda strange to always read fanfic and now actually writing it. I guess my Spencer Reid obsession made me do it :) yall will probably understand, hahahaha.

[bigtreefest]

Chapter 8: Never Be Sorry

From: The Rainmaker Series

Pairing: Mob! Steve x Forensic Scientist! Reader

Summary: There’s a lot to apologize for, but some things happen for a reason

Word count: 6,323

Content/warnings: mob themes, gun mentions, swears, yelling, tough love, interrogation, punching, slapping, convincing-ish arguments?, fires, lots of time switching between the past and present, angst, sass

Author’s Note: I hope you enjoy this next chapter! It takes place at the same time as chapter 4 of Handiwork and Chapter 11 of YCMBWH.

Your feedback is appreciated in all forms! Comments, reblogs, and asks are golden💗

Dividers by @firefly-graphics

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“Everything’s Fucked.” You spoke through gritted teeth, arms crossed, looking out the window. The open fields were whizzing by in the early morning light as Number Five drove you home in Bucky’s car, leaving him and Steve at the farm to clean up after the events of the previous night.

It was per your insistence that you stay until Curtis was found, despite having to get called in to the office for this Sunday afternoon. As much as you wished to stay back and ensure Curtis and Cherry were alright, you had a job to do. Sure, Steve and his goons could’ve called off for you like they did the last time, but you couldn’t risk the association with them, not anymore. Not when so much else in your life was at stake. And honestly, you weren’t sure how much more time you could stand to be around people. Your last straw was on the verge of snapping.

Late last night (aka early morning)

You sat in the hay loft of one of the small barns on the farm, feet swinging from the rafters as you watched the scene below. You observed the two men who crossed you, crossed Curtis as they sat in metal chairs, tied with fresh rope, one of them squirming, the other calmly watching the scene with a mischievous smirk on his face.

There was no way it was genuine, though. You knew they were going to lose. You had heard all about the the abilities of Bucky in the city from Five when you cornered him upon your return from the bar. You knew men were tearing down Lloyd’s organization as this entire scene was occurring, and you knew Bucky would get what he wanted. Apparently he had a reputation for that. How it flew under your nose for so many years, you weren’t sure, but it meant he was really good. Which might’ve also meant you weren’t as good as you thought, but that was a thought you tried to push from your mind, despite the way it kept creeping in.

Bucky was circling the two men, akin to a shark, crisp suit adorned, taking the place of the jeans and flannel shirt he borrowed for the bar. Steve was wearing the same, and your previous disdain for that formalwear was growing back and burning your throat. Sure, the farm clothes were comfortable, but you knew that would’ve made them too vulnerable, which wasn’t gonna fly in a mob interrogation like this. So suits it was. Gone was the simple pleasure associated with the old, worn clothing. This was all business.

The same went for you, except in your case, business meant comfort. The second you got back from the bar and entered the farmhouse, you shucked the dress off your body and weant straight for the laundry room, borrowing a pair of Bee’s jeans and an old flannel of Curtis’s that was sitting on top of the pile, the extra material tucked into your waistband as it bloused over your body. It was perfect for a crisp night like this, and you were sure he wouldn’t mind. Plus, who knew how dirty you were going to get at this point? You were literally in a barn.

This interrogation was going nowhere, though. Lloyd was fucking smug as ever and Cole was being a whiny bitch. And worse even, after rolling Lloyd’s name around in your head for an hour, it all made sense. Hansen. As in Lillian Hansen, criminal defense attorney that you abhorred, despite the fact you luckily never really had to deal with her. But you knew how much Scott couldn’t stand the lady, and you imagined Andy felt the same. Ugh, Andy, or should you go back to calling him DA Barber now, who was probably on Steve’s payroll. And probably Scott, too! Was there anyone left that you could trust to tell you the truth!? It looked like you were the only one who you could have faith in anymore. And maybe Cherry? But now, you were gonna use that rage and that self-reliance to get some results.

You swung down from the rafters and landed on strong legs in your boots on the dirt floor. Bucky had just gone over to greet Cherry who had walked into the barn. This was your open opportunity to get what you needed out of these pricks.

You stalked towards the men in the metal chairs, your face showing the vengeance these two were sure to face soon, if not by your hand, then by the mob’s. Your eyes narrowed and shoulders squared as you looked between the two men. You hated them more than you hated even Walker for what they had a part in. More than spoiled milk, more than being left out of the loop. More than Steve.

You were grateful for the way the corner of your eye caught Bucky’s arm barring Steve from approaching you. He had already messed up enough and taken choices from you. This wasn’t another thing you needed taken away. You would deal with it your own way as you stepped in front of Cole.

“I’ll give you one more shot. I’m sick of watching this dance. Where. Is. Curtis?”

A stuttering voice came out of Cole. “I-I don’t know.”

You rolled your eyes. Of course he didn’t. What a dipshit. The kind who doesn’t know basic science or who to trust. But you guessed, at this point, you didn’t either. You raised your arm.

Smack. In a flash, his head was tossed to the side.

“Wrong answer.”

If Cole wasn’t going to give what you needed, maybe Lloyd could, or maybe he and his tight lips could be the vessel to get the Turner heir to squeal.

You took a step to your left, putting yourself directly in front of Lloyd.

“Where?”

Your voice was even and low. Calm, yet rage-lined. You were so sick of all this shit. You had no room to feel sad or worried anymore. All that was left was anger. At the situation, at yourself. It filled you, but it fueled you. Lloyd shook his head, paired with his shoulders that jumped up and down with laughter. Your fists tightened at the way you could tell he wasn’t taking you seriously.

“Oh, come on, Pumpkin. You’re a smartie. Bet you’re a sweet peach just like your friend, too, but I’m not giving up whe-“

Punch. Right to the jaw. It was almost in slow motion as Lloyd fell to the hay floor in a heap with a dull thump and a rustle. You had pinpointed the right spot and knocked him out cold. Your eyes quickly fixed on Cole again, seeing a new wave of fear had swept across his face.

“Is that motivation enough for you to help us now?”

He furiously nodded, but then looked back over his shoulder at Cherry. “I’ll talk to her.”

You could see the surprise on her face, but he was in no place to make demands. Just as you were about to speak up, Steve’s voice filled the barn.

“No way. You lost your right to negotiate when you let Lloyd cross that line. You talk to me or you don’t have a tongue to talk anymore. Got it?”

You watched Cole gulp in fear. That was on him for refusing to deal directly with you, and now he got Steve, who you didn’t even know the capabilities of, never having witnessed him in this environment before. All of the unknowns hitting you at once were too much. You had to get out of there, so you turned on your heel and swiftly exited the barn, fast walking away. Anywhere else.

You grumbled and shook your head as your boots brushed through the tall grass. “Fucking dumbass mobsters.”

Present

The mid-morning sun was high and bright in your eyes as you continued on the highway back home. You were exhausted, but things would get better once you got back to work. Right? They had to.

You turned in your seat, cracking your back and doing your best to stretch in the confined space. You took the opportunity to reach around, too, opening the glove compartment, shifting items around.

Peter was attempting to keep his eyes on the road, but his gaze kept flashing to you. “Everything alright, Miss Decks?”

You groaned in frustration, rifling through the drinks in the center console. Of course it was a cooler.

“Where does Bucky keep the sunglasses? He’s gotta have an extra pair somewhere. Rich bastard is rarely unprepared, I know it.”

Peter reached up near the rear view mirror and popped open a sunglasses holder where you saw a pair of dark frames.

“Ah, thank you, Five.”

You grabbed them and closed the holder, before sliding them on your face, crossing your arms, and scooting back down in the passenger seat. There was still a ways to go, and this was a little better so you didn’t go blind.

Just as you started nodding off for a nap, you felt a buzzing in your pocket. You let out a big sigh and pulled out your phone, rolling your eyes when you saw who it was: Bee. You groaned as you hit the button to answer the call, putting it on speaker in case there was something she had to say to Peter.

“What?”

There was a deep breath taken on the other side of the line. “Well good morning to you, too, Sunshine. How’s the drive going? You kind of left abruptly.”

You continued to stare out at the road, more cars having joined alongside you as the day continued.

“Yeah. Couldn’t waste anymore time. Had to get back for the shift they need me for this afternoon.”

You heard her hum, knowing exactly what her face was from that noise. Most definitely tight-lipped and skeptical.

“Yeah, okay. And this isn’t you running away from your problems, right?”

You were silent for a second. She didn’t need to call you out like that. You were fine. It was all…fine. Maybe if you could convince her of that, you could convince yourself, too.

“What problems? We got Curtis back. Bucky is gonna help you figure out everything to keep your farm and then some I bet. No issues here except me having to go to work.”

It was Bee’s turn to stay silent now. It’s not like she was ever an excessive talker, but both of you knew that if she wasn’t gracing you with a response, she could see right through you and was waiting for you to state the conclusion on your own. Her silence drove you crazy.

“Okay, fine! I’m going back to my job to drown myself in test analysis reports and probably straining my eyes at the microscope again. Is that what you wanna hear?”

She let out a dry laugh from the other end of the line.

“While I admire the hustle, partner, you know it’s not. I wanna hear you talk about exactly what’s going on with a certain blonde puppy that’s pouting in my living room right now. But…since I love you I can give you good news first.”

Good news didn’t sound like something that could exist right now. But before you could catch more of those thoughts, you were interrupted by the clearing of a throat next to you. Oh right, Five was driving this car.

“Ugh. Before you speak more, hold on. Because this is between me and you, and I don’t need someone reporting this information to his boss.”

You looked over at Peter and the way his brow furrowed.

“Five, can I count on you to keep whatever you hear in this conversation a secret?”

He simply gave a curt nod.

“Discretion is my entire job description, Miss Decks.”

You sighed. It was exactly what you wanted to hear, but was it just that?

“Yeah, but do you have to report everything I say to your superiors?”

Peter shrugged. “I have to follow their orders…so if they tell me to…yes.”

“But isn’t your primary order right now to protect me? So protect me by not saying anything to Steve. What’s he gonna do? Hold a gun to your head?”

Peter was silent.

“Oh my god, he’s not gonna put a gun to your head, is he!?”

Peter spared a quick glance at you. “Um, I’d hope not. Probably not? No, no, he knows I’d never cross him. Mr. Rogers doesn’t like to get rid of people for no good reason. So definitely not if he knew the order of my silence came from you.”

From the phone in your hand, you heard Bee hum. “Ooooo, Decky, your reputation among the ranks precedes you.”

You rolled your eyes. “I’d tell you to shut up, but I’m actually trying to give you the opportunity to speak right now, and I have no desire to hear more about this hierarchy, so talk before I change my mind.”

Humor reached her voice at the way you were beginning to open up to her again. “Oh I love how you love me. You might regret giving that free rein, but I’ll get on with it. This weekend went to… excuse my language…shit, but I didn’t even get to show you your surprise.”

Your ears perked up. “Bee, you what? When on Earth did you have time for that?”

She made an unsure, drawn out sound. “Well…I didn’t. I’ve had my hands pretty full..it’s um, technically from Cole, but you’re gonna like it.”

You scoffed. “How am I going to like something regifted from that fucking weirdo.”

The annoyance she’d been holding back with your bitter mood was starting to show in her voice now. Something very rare. You couldn’t believe you were actually wearing her patience down. “Decks, can you just be nice for one second!? Don’t make me call you by your birth name, because I swear I will. I’ll use the middle one, too! God. It’s a cow. It’s that cow you always asked for. She’s yours and she needs a name. Please be nice to me. I’m trying so hard right now to help you. Try and shed some light on this terrible situation.”

“Okay, okay, fine.” You shrunk in on yourself in your seat and your voice was almost a squeak. As much as you wanted to be annoyed at everything and how it did truly go to shit, you couldn’t blame it on her. It really wasn’t her fault. And this subject change was kind of nice.

Your voice was still small. “So tell me more about this cow. Mini highland?”

Back was her bright tone. “Yep! That’s the one. Light brown and adorable. You wanna rif on it?”

You sighed. “Um…maybe not right now? But I really do appreciate it. Give that girl a nice spa day for me, will you?”

You couldn’t see it, but you were sure she was nodding on the other side of the phone.

“Yeah, yeah. I will.”

Earlier last night (right after returning from the bar)

Steve and Bucky had converted one of the barns on the property into a makeshift interrogation room while Cole and Lloyd were still out cold, Bucky having knocked them out as a result of the fight in the bar. He knew you had driven Cherry home, but had no idea where you were now as he walked around the barn entrance, kicking stray rocks and looking up at the clear sky, littered with stars. All he could think about was sharing that view with you.

Over his shoulder, he could hear the grass rustling from footsteps and suddenly next to him stood Bucky. Steve looked at his best friend with a halfhearted smile, the pain evidently seeping through. It wasn’t going to be an easy night by any means, but Bucky knew it was much harder for Steve than him. Steve sighed, comfortable enough to speak his mind. He had to get this out, voicing something would keep him from combusting.

“It’s so beautiful. All the times I’ve been out here, I haven’t gotten the chance to look up at the sky at night without all the light pollution. Decks would love this. I bet she knows all the constellations.”

Bucky let out a small chuckle at the obsessive thoughts of his friend. He had a point, though, and he felt it a little more as he heard Bee walk up behind him, slotting her fingers between his own and setting her head on his shoulder. Steve continued to stare upward with a small, wistful sigh as Bee spoke over the light chirp of the crickets.

“She does. She took an astronomy elective in college. The stars are no use enjoying alone. You should be staring up at them together, but she needs to come to that conclusion on her own now that she knows everything.”

Steve nodded, huffed, then wiped his tired eyes with the heels of his palms, finally dropping his head.

“Yeah, you’re right. But I’m going to keep trying. I have to.”

Bee clicked her tongue and looked over at Bucky, responding to Steve. “As you should. Sometimes the best things are the ones someone teaches you to work a little extra for.”

Present

“Now it’s your turn, Decks. What’s really got you twisted?” Bee’s bright voice was louder than you’d like on the phone speaker.

You grumbled your response under your breath.

“What? I couldn’t quite catch that?”

You sighed and took a sip of water from the bottle you pulled out of the cooler, preparing yourself to finally voice the feelings you’d had cooped up inside.

“God, Bee this is so fucking embarrassing. I was stupid and blind. That’s what I’m so mad about, Curtis aside. It was all right in front of me the entire time. I should’ve seen it coming. I mean, Bucky, Steve, Lillian, Lloyd. They were all right there! And I missed them! I’m a terrible civic servant. I should just rescind that application I sent to the FBI.”

You huffed after having said your peace, but were glad the phone wasn’t up by your ear when her voices busted through the speaker again.

“WAIT, you applied to the FBI!? Decks, why didn’t you tell me?!”

You shrugged. “I don’t know, didn’t feel right at the time when I was at your house. And I didn’t want it over call or text in case the NSA or someone else was listening, but what does it matter now? I’m a terrible investigator.”

You thought for a second before speaking up again. “I shouldn’t have tried to make all this for myself. Maybe my mom was right and I should’ve looked for a husband a long time ago. Settled down or something and stopped pushing to have more. The world’s been trying to tell me that’s all I’m good for, but obviously even that’s something I mess up.”

“Ugh, Decks. You’ve gotta stop with that malarkey your mom fed you. Sure, she’s great and she stayed home once she found a husband, but that doesn’t have to be you. You’ve told me several times you don’t want that to be you. If that’s what you want now, great, but I know you and I know it’s not. I think you should keep going for your goals. You’d be great in the FBI.”

You wanted to smile at the compliment, but you felt like a fool. “Would I, though? For the several reasons I just told you? Plus, even if I were to get in, they do background checks. And interviews of family and friends. How’s it gonna look if my best friend is involved with the mob? And so is that guy that I kissed, like twice, but wanted to do way more than kiss with? And oh yeah, his best friend, which also happens to be the aforementioned best friend’s boyfriend? Also mob. And let’s add another friend getting kidnapped by a dirty lawyer, once again, mob, to the list. Can’t hide that.”

Bee sighed in contemplation. “Well, uh, actually, you can. Technically on paper I’m a produce contractor for Bucky’s restaurants. That’s why they’ve got all the businesses, bestie.”

“But even if that does work for the interview process, my luck won’t roll on forever. So maybe cut ties are for the best. But also, do they really even matter? Like, not really at this point. Nothing matters. I’ll just stay in the city, do my little science experiments like a monkey for those fuckwads like Walker, and maybe get a cat. It’ll be grand.”

Bee almost growled. You were sure it was terrifying in person. “Can you just stop feeling sorry for yourself!? I didn’t want to have to pull out the tough love but you leave me no choice. Yeah, this whole thing is fucked up. You got lied to, and I’m sorry for that. But honestly, nothing was fake. I’ll tell you that for a fact. And I know you know it, too. You can join the FBI if you want. You can keep your digital footprint and paper trail clean, and you can find happiness on your own terms. I’m this close to saying I’m sick of this sour behavior, Decks. If anyone can find their way out of a tangled mess like the one you think you’re caught up in, it’s you. So like you always do, put your head down and stop complainin’!”

You didn’t want to dignify this all with a response, so she kept going, but something on the other end of the line was trying to get her attention. “Listen, I’ve gotta go. But you know where I stand. On all of this. On you, on Steve, on your job. You can call me whenever, just think about it and stop selling yourself short. I know you’ve got this whole hard, tough exterior going for you, and it’s great. I love it, because I know the softness underneath. But don’t let that all harden, too. I can see you want it to because yeah, this all hurts, but that’s not gonna help your pain. It’s just gonna trap it there.”

What the fuck was this wise sage advice? She was turning into her uncle slowly. You were sure of it. Unfortunately, that didn’t mean she was wrong, though, but you didn’t want to hear it. So you simply put your hood up and pulled the strings tight. Her voice held a tone of disappointment, but also empathy at your continued silence; it was softer now.

“I love you, and I care for you, and I want you to know, I never would have let Steve get that close to you if I didn’t think it could bloom into something amazing. For both of you. It’s beyond just having someone else there. I know you’re mad, but maybe give him a chance. Okay? I’ve really gotta go now. Bye.”

The dial tone signaling the end of the call filled the car. You watched as Peter’s hands adjusted on the wheel and the city skyline came into view.

The thing was, after getting all of that out to Bee and listening to her, you realized you weren’t really mad, but it all just hurt. It was a pain that came from heartbreak. Someone you trusted let you down; multiple people. But you weren’t sorry about how you acted because of it. And to your surprise, you weren’t sorry about much that had happened at all, but for now, you needed to focus on you.

Late last night (after the interrogation)

Steve stayed light on his feet as he ducked and made his way through the tall grass of the farm field. After your…. convincing argument… as to why Cole should speak up, he spilled everything to Bucky and Steve. And it was everything. The extent of his deals with Lloyd, his original plans to overtake Bee’s farm, the true financial state of his own empire, and the fact that he and Lillian were seeing each other. Which was…frankly, more than Steve was willing to hear.

All of that information, though, led him to one of the newer locations of the Turner farms. One that specialized in cattle feed and storage, so no live animals on the property, just fallow and crop fields, and several barns and silos.

Steve rushed through the tall grass, flanked by Bucky and his men, giving silent hand signals as orders. They were to make as little of a scene as possible, which would’ve been successful if Lillian’s men hadn’t made a mess of everything. Shooting without silencers, screaming, making the entire scene evident to any onlookers. They were lucky they were in the middle of nowhere. Someone might just mistake it all as a farmer’s altercation with a coyote.

After having taken care of the two guards outside one of the barns while Bucky and his men handled the rest of the area, Steve was on alert as he slid the barn door open on the largest of the several buildings. The early morning light lit up the dim barn, illuminating Curtis’s face. Steve wanted to feel relief but he had to make sure Curtis was alright first. He surveyed the area as he approached.

Out in front of him, Curtis squinted and spoke with a raspy voice. “Steve?”

Steve gave him a small smile, surprised when Curtis’s face fell a little flat, not giving much emotion.

“Hey there, partner. I’m here for retrieval service.”

He walked around behind Curtis and crouched down, pulling the knife out of his breast pocket, flicking it open, and cutting the wrist restraints. Curtis immediately brought his hands to his front, rubbing the tender area.

“Did you get Lillian? She was outside. And all the guards? Is everyone else okay? How’s Cherry? Decks? Bee?”

Steve walked around to Curtis’s front, crouching once again to begin sawing at the ropes that held his ankles.

“The girls are good. Safe on the farm being guarded, but I think they can handle themselves. Your girl has taken this quite well all things considered.”

Steve broke through the ropes and looked up at Curtis’s face. There was a cut on his cheek that appeared to be bruising slowly.

“Lillian got you pretty good, huh? Don’t worry, we’ve got her now. And Lloyd and Cole. They’re getting delivered back to an old friend in the city as we speak. Probably won’t have to see their faces ever again. That’s a blessing.”

Steve thought back to Lillian meeting him and Bucky at the edge of the property when they first arrived, gun and singular henchman at the ready, easily overpowered by the two of them. Backup must have been lagging. They were easily set in the back of one of the SUVs in the brigade to be sent away. Good riddance, she was terrible and Curtis didn’t even know the half of it.

Curtis nodded in assent. “You could say that again.”

Steve looked Curtis once over, checking for any more injuries, satisfied to not see anything too bad. She must’ve been planning something terribly drawn out and he was lucky she never got there. “Can you walk?”

Curtis nodded and groaned as he threw his hands to his knees and pressed out of the uncomfortable metal chair.

“Yeah…you never really answered all of my questions, though, city boy, at least not fully….”

Steve internally winced, hoping that would squeak past, but it didn’t. He walked with Curtis up to the edge of the barn, peeking out to check if the coast was clear and speaking into an ear piece, indicating Curtis had been picked up and was ready for transport. He nodded with confirmation and his shoulders relaxed a little, although Steve grabbed the gun from the holster on his hip just in case, keeping it low as they shuffled out into the open field. One could never be too cautious of Lillian, but this didn’t seem like a plan that was thought out very well.

Steve and Curtis stepped out onto the land of one of the Turners farms. It was a newer one, a shame, yet somewhat satisfying by how much of it was on fire right now. The barn behind them was already up in flames, per the boss’s orders.

Steve led Curtis back to his black SUV parked on the gravel road, but looked at the farmer with confusion as Curtis took it upon himself to go towards the driver’s seat, despite the way Steve was very evidently guiding him towards the passenger side. Curtis held his hand out for the keys expectantly. Steve was nervous, he didn’t like the look on his face one bit. It was stern, demanding, and…protective? And it perfectly matched his vocal tone.

“Come on. While I drive home, you’re gonna walk me through your plan to get Decks back. If the next time I see her, she’s as mopey as she’s been this weekend, or worse yet, this hardens her, you’ll have hell to pay.”

Steve sighed as he settled into his seat. “Okay, okay. But I think I’m gonna need a lot of your input. Just be nice about it.”

Curtis raised a skeptical brow at Steve as he pulled out onto the country road. Steve wished he could crawl out of his skin. He might have just risked his life to save Curtis, but now he was on edge, faced with having to confront not only what he did wrong, but how he planned to fix it, and the fact that it may never be good with you again.

In Steve’s extended silence, Curtis decided to speak up, one hand on the wheel to slightly turn his body.

“You know, Steve, I’ve always been a little skeptical of you.”

Steve’s heart was beating fast. He wasn’t blind. Something about the two of them just never clicked.

“But that doesn’t mean I don’t like you. I think you and I just don’t understand the way each other ticks. I don’t know why you do the things you do.”

Steve cleared his throat, turning towards Curtis to hear more.

“Way back when, Decks dated a friend of mine. It didn’t really go anywhere, but I knew I didn’t like it and I wasn’t sure why.”

Steve nodded in anticipation to where this was going.

“I came to realize it was because I was protective, because I know her. And I know she’s tough, but there’s a lot more vulnerability under that surface. And from that moment, I saw, too, that anyone who dated her without taking special consideration for that wasn’t my friend. Anyone who didn’t bare their own intentions and thoughts like I knew she was bound to do, wasn’t a friend.”

Steve shifted in discomfort. “So you don’t think I care? You don’t think I’m honest?”

Curtis blew out a breath. “I can tell you care, but I think you were a little too comfortable withholding the truth from someone who put their inner self on display for you.”

Steve nodded in understanding. He knew what he did was wrong, but he had no idea what the true gravity of it was.

“So, you got anything more to say about it, buddy? How are you going to apologize? How will you say you’re sorry and deserving of her?”

Steve wiped a hand down over his face.

“I-I don’t know. Maybe send her something? Some food, whatever she might want? Do you know what she might want? A car? A-“

Curtis stopped him right there. “I don’t think so. You can’t buy her forgiveness. How are you showing it to her? Plus, you can’t give her a car. The FBI will flag your connection to her real quick and I won’t let your feelings and lack of knowledge make a smudge on her background check when she just sent in that application.”

Steve sighed. He had no idea you applied to the FBI. Heck, he just learned only a week ago how you got your nickname. It seemed like he was so taken aback with your chemistry, and with hiding his identity, that the two of you skipped over each other as people.

“Okay, I-I didn’t know that. What do I do to show her, then, though?”

Curtis laughed dryly. “That’s for you to figure out. And sure, it could come in the form of gifts, but more so, it should come in the form of you. Do something that shows you’re willing to go by her pace, to learn the way she works and lives her life, not that you’re trying to fit her into yours, or worse yet, have her be an accessory to everything else you have going on. Decks is someone worth prioritizing.”

“Yeah, I know. Fuck. Well then it seems like I’ve got some work to do.”

“Big time. Now, my turn, because I wanna know the extent of hell you and I may have gone through together in another sense. Tell me what Lillian was like growing up.”

Steve smiled a little in the corner of his mouth. Maybe once he fixed it all with you, he and Curtis could get along after all. “Well, I’ll tell you what. I’m a saint compared to her.”

Curtis snickered. “I figured, golden boy.”

Earlier this morning, just before your departure

You shuffled around upstairs in the farmhouse, gathering the few items you came with in preparation to head back home. You knew the boys were out getting Curtis with cautious optimism they’d be back any minute. Bee and Cherry were downstairs, cleaning up the dishes from breakfast as you packed.

As you looked out the window, you saw an SUV turn off the dirt road and onto the driveway. You finished shoving everything else in your bag, slung it over your shoulder and went down the steps. When you got there, you saw Cherry walking out the front door as Bee was digging a broom and dustpan out of the closet.

You dropped your bag on the bench to scope the area, morning light glowing through the curtains. Your survey was cut short, though.

“Decks, be a dear and hold this dustpan for me, won’t you?”

You silently nodded, squatting down and looking at the shattered coffee mug. Bee didn’t seem on alert, though. She seemed relieved, and that’s when you heard Curtis’s voice on the other side of the door. You perked up before going to throw away the ceramic shards.

Just as you were dusting off your hands, the front door creaked open revealing Curtis a little battered and bruised, but walking just fine. As Bee put away the broom, you ran up to him and threw your arms around his neck. Your voice was muffled by the fabric of his shirt.

“I never thought I’d have to say a statement like this twice in a couple months, but I’m so happy you’re alive.”

Curtis laughed and rubbed your back. “Sure am. And I agree. That’s enough mob business for now.”

You let out a watery laugh, pulling away and letting Bee in to see her cousin. The door remained open and your eyes went straight to your bag again. As you grabbed it and put it over your shoulder, you quickly shuffled out the door, past the two large and suited men, running towards the third one who had agreed to drive you home.

Steve had walked in the house, ready to talk to you, but was caught by surprise when you zipped past him. As Bucky joined the group in the living room, ready to debrief everyone, all Steve could focus on was you. He lurched forward on his feet, shoved by Curtis, and used the momentum to jog down to Bucky’s car where you had already gotten in the passenger seat.

Peter was still standing outside the driver’s side as you looked straight ahead, arms crossed and ready to leave now that Curtis was alright. You had no intention of speaking with Steve, even though he was knocking on your window with a concerned look on his face.

“Decks. Hey, can I talk to you for a second?”

You shook your head just barely enough for him to see.

“Please? I want to apologize. I’m sorry.”

You reached a hand out to lower the window just a crack, still not granting him eye contact.

“Sorry for what, Steven?”

He took a deep breath, leaning forward so his one hand sat on the roof of the car, the other bracing the side mirror.

“Sorry for lying. Betraying your trust. Keeping the truth from you.”

You nodded, your lips pursed in slight anger and consideration. You finally whipped your head to face him.

“Did you ever think that maybe I wanted the choice, Steve? To know the truth. Decide whether or not what I felt for you was real by knowing all of you? You took that away from me.”

He nodded, staring down at the rocks in front of his feet. “I know, I know. That’s…..that was bad decision-making on my part-“

“See, but you got to make a decision. I didn’t. There’s a difference there. All that time spent together was a lie and a borderline waste.”

Steve shook his head, the watery blue of his eyes finally rising to meet yours again. “I don’t think it was. All those times with me, they were the real me, and I know they were the real you, too. That’s something I’ll never be sorry for: our time together. But I am sorry for taking the choice of you knowing what I might be getting you into.”

“You should be.” You faced forward in your seat again and rolled your window up, hearing Steve’s demands to Peter through the glass.

Next >

Bonus A/N: ooooooh! What does it all mean!? Hehehe🫣 was Curtis too nice to Steve? Be honest. Was bee too nice to Decks? Should she have pushed her back towards Steve a little harder?

Taglist: @evie-119 @hawkeyes-queen @ronearoundblindly @thedonswife13 @mercurial-chuckles @thezombieprostitute

[chibishortdeath]

Free will strikes again, these were some really fun doodles :3. I think Simon is allowed to be a little visual kei sometimes. Idk I just know he’d vibe with it. Explanations under a cut—

And also a couple unfinished doodles that were just intended to be rough pose/anatomy practice sketches, but ended up accidentally more detailed than intended 💀💀💀. It’s nothing graphic, but ⚠️slight artistic nudity warning⚠️ anyway in case d(>_< ).

Hehehe, this is based off of a photo from Malice Mizer live, it’s Simon in place of Mana and Fuma in place of Gackt. Very fun pose to draw!!! Especially cause it’s a pose with a whip and also cause idk why but I find poses with one or both arms up pretty easy to draw. And yeah yay, Fuma inclusion yippie :3!

I don’t have any other explanation for why this exists other than dresses are cool. So I made him one :D. The coord has a half caplet that connects to a shoulder paldron on the other shoulder by chain with a little cross. Under that there’s a blouse and skirt combo with patterns similar to his SQ armor and some rose thorn patterns around the ends of the sleeves and collar. Over that is a corset and under is a cage crinoline made to look like crosses peaking around the edge. Shoes carry outfit motifs like the roses on the bow tie and headdress and the lace throughout. Also, an eyepatch with cross on it because yeah, cute :3. I’d probably wear this if I had uh any skill in sewing at all (TwT ).

A not chibi version of the above outfit! Except probably without the crinoline with how the skirt fabric is sitting lol. Tbh I think Simon would probably be fine with this for a little bit and then get uncomfortable about having so many layers on. I don’t think he’d like tights at all 💀💀💀💀💀💀💀. Hmmm I’ll have to draw a version of it that’d be more comfortable for him hmm maybe tomorrow.

Another Simon holding Dracula’s heart artwork. Shout out to how this guy just carries this thing around for so long lol.

Simon facing off against his worst enemy: stairs! This one was practice drawing characters in backgrounds, since I’m so rusty at actually drawing those two things together (ToT ). I can draw a separate background fine, but the second I have to put someone in it I just completely forget what I’m doing XD.

This one is also a practice! He’s running up to the altar in Drac’s basement. The lighting was fun for this one, but I forgot to draw the whip in his hand 💀.

This one was an attempt at drawing a skeleton and keeping the same proportions in a drawing of someone (Simon) who is uh not a skeleton. Fun fact! It took me like 5 tries to get the skeleton to not just look like Papyrus Undertale cause holy heck do the skeletons from that game take a hold of some part of your art style and never let go 💀💀💀💀

CASTLEVANIA JUDGEMENT HAS HATS??? AS LIKE AN UNLOCKABLE?????????? So obviously I had to draw Simon (x2) with the bow options. Pink probs looks really nice with his hair tbh. And the striped bow was black and white so it fits with the Judgement design’s outfit. If I ever actually play this game again (I suck so bad at it), I’ll be trying to get these for the very important reason of Simon cute. :3

—

Ok now these two. The first one was a different attempt at that Mana pose, but a bigger scale and a bit less exaggerated. I ended up having to do a ton of edits to it cause I kept making things too big or too small lol. And the second one is just a couple dynamic posing practices. They’re also excuses to draw more arm up poses cause they’re fun X3. He was just supposed to have like a generic placeholder rectangle er um uh there, but some of the sketchy lines ended up looking like what’s supposed to be in that spot, so I just didn’t wanna risk these being on main tags out in the open 💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀. Though, tbh, I’ve seen more explicit things on the tags so eh, better safe than sorry tho (- w - )

[come-away-with-me87]

It Takes Two Chapter 2

Chapter 1 here

******

The work week went by without incident, and suddenly, it was Friday afternoon.  As you were leaving to go to your car, Nemuri caught you.  "Hey, Y/N!  Do you want to come out with us tonight?  Me, Hizashi, and Toshinori are gonna hit up the bar and have a few drinks.  Well, Hizashi and I will, not Toshinori.  And hopefully you."  You thought about it for a moment.  You had no plans for that evening other than sitting on your couch with your cat watching a trashy reality show in your pajamas.  You finally responded, "sure, why not?  What time?"  She said to meet up with them at 7:00pm.  This should be fun, you get along with the three of them great, and you haven't been out in quite some time.

Since you were going out to a nicer bar, you decided to dress up that night.  When you went back to your apartment, you jumped right in the shower.  With a towel around your upper torso and a towel around your head, you went to your closet and decided to pick out an outfit to wear.  You decided on an outfit, and laid it out on your bed to put on closer to when you were going to leave.  You made yourself something to eat, played with your cat, Ariel, for a bit and started getting ready.  With your towel still around your upper torso, you blow dried your hair mostly straight with some voluminous waves.  Your normal everyday makeup look was usually a little foundation and mascara, but tonight you also opted for some cat eyeliner and red lipstick.  

Finally, you put your outfit on. You opted for a form-fitting black cowl neck dress that went down to your knees, with golden chain straps that criss-crossed across your upper back.  As far as shoes, you opted for a pair of red kitten heels.  You looked the complete opposite of how you normally looked at work.  You didn't wear your hero outfit to school, you typically opted for a blouse tucked into a skirt with sensible shoes.  You stood in front of your full-length mirror, and thought you actually looked really good.  You could never compare to the R-rated hero's outfits, of course, but still.  Your dress hugged your curves in all the right places, and your makeup was on point.

By the time you finished getting ready, it was already 7:00pm.  Shit, you were going to be late.  Good thing the bar you were going to was only ten minutes away.  You texted Nemuri to let her know you were on your way, blew a kiss Ariel's way, got into your car and headed to the bar.  You arrived around 7:15pm, and the parking lot was absolutely packed.  You finally found a parking spot and went inside, and looked around for a little longer than you cared to admit to see where your friends were sitting.  You finally spotted...Shouta?  Nemuri did not mention he was also going to be there.  You suddenly felt very overdressed and uncomfortable; the man you technically work for was here, and you were dressed the way you were.

You were there, though, so you made your way over to the table that they were sitting at, when Shouta looked up at you first, "Miss L/N?!"  Nemuri just laughed, "now now Eraser, we're not at school right now, I think we could be on a first name basis, yeah?"  Shouta just looked down at his drink, but not before scanning you up and down.  Hizashi whistled, "girl, you look hot tonight!"  Nemuri nodded her head in agreement, while Toshinori just looked up at you and smiled.  He scooted over so you could sit next to him.  It was you at the end, then Toshinori, then Nemuri, then Hizashi, with Shouta at the other end of the table.

The server came over and took your drink order, which was a whiskey on the rocks.  She came back with your drink, and you all cheered to the end of another successful week.  While you were cheering, you looked at Shouta and noticed his eyes on yours.  For some reason, you suddenly felt yourself blushing.  Why were you blushing?  He was your boss.  You tore your eyes away from him, looked down at your drink instead, and said, "so, what have I missed so far?"  Nemuri chimed up, "well, we were talking about the students' progress this week, but I think we should talk about something other than work now that you're here."

The conversation flowed very easily between the five of you; even Shouta chiming in at times.  It was nice to feel included in a conversation with him as well.  The server came back over when she noticed that all of your drinks were empty, and you all re-ordered.  She came back to your table rather quickly after getting your order, with just a whiskey on the rocks for you.  You were confused.  She pointed across the bar, "Miss, that gentleman over there bought you a drink."  You looked to where she was pointing, and the man waved at you.  He was absolutely gorgeous: he was tall, blonde, muscular, wore a dark green button-up shirt with its sleeves rolled up to his elbows, khaki pants, and dress shoes.  You politely waved back in thanks, to which he took the opportunity to get up and make his way over to your table.

******

To be continued...

[honey-minded-hivemind]

(I may send in a few more requests for Dino squad as well-)

what about in the Dino squad a reader who is a Compsognathus (one of if not the smallest dinosaurs) who has hidden from everyone that they are anything less then human, and don’t know about the other Dino kids either? I’m thinking they were at the beach that day as well but at a different time then the others

Ahaha, yes! Let's see what I can whip up for ya:

You aren't sure what your life had come to.

You'd been with your biology class on a fieldtrip, down by the beach, and somehow, someway, it turned into something a lot more than just a quick trip to the shore.

Because by the time you'd gotten home, you discovered you could turn into something new. Something impossible to be.

A dinosaur.

A small one, a Compsognathus, but a dinosaur nonetheless.

It was... insane.

Scary.

It started to become worse when other dinosaurs started popping up.

And they were a LOT bigger than you.

So, with all the reasoning you had, you kept hidden. No need to reveal yourself and possibly get eaten, right? Nope, not you.

The situation died back a bit, things going back to a weird, settled normal... Yet somehow that didn't last, either...

They saw you.

There were a few of them, fighting mutated plant thingies, and you'd been helping on the sidelines, guiding animals to safety, when you crossed paths with the carnosaur. It locked eyes with you for a moment, then something burst inside your mind:

There's another one?!

That caught the attention of the other dinosaurs, who came thundering over, all tall and imposing. You took the opportunity to dart between their feet, aiming to escape into the streets.

Woah, woah, WAIT!

We're like you!

You ignored whatever the h*ck was grating at your thoughts, letting your feet carry you swiftly to safety. The rest of the night, you slept in a curled-up ball, hidden amongst your blankets, trying to keep your fears at bay...

After that incident, the dinosaurs always seemed to be looking for you.

Well...

Dino you.

And your classmates seemed a little rattled in class. The class was full of odd, strange kids, but these five tended to stick together no matter what. But something seemed to have excited them, because now they were talking with others in class, asking questions, listening to the biology teacher, who only sighed at their antics and told them to be careful.

They ended up talking with you.

You had Lance, a team leader of sorts, into sports, and always wearing shades of brown and black and red. A cool guy, but a little intense.

You had Fred, large and adept with plants, who enjoyed working at animal shelters and helping strays, in overalls and camo. Sweet, and didn't tolerate bullying at all.

You had Wanda, stoic, unstoppable, and dressed in red. She put any person to shame in the intimidating apartment. A twin, but the older, more scary, of the two. She tended to study medicinal plants and animals.

You had Pietro, fast, loud, talkative Pietro. Never seen without pale blues or greens, with a white shirt or blouse, he was someone who was quite popular with the school. He was also a bit of a diva. Wanda's twin, the ... less scary... one. He knew how to talk with people, how to make them feel welcome.

And there was Todd, or Toad, as people called him. Short, long legs, shaggy hair, and always wearing green. The guy loved amphibians, wore bracelets, and seemed pretty chill. Not too bad to round the whole group out.

You weren't sure how you caught the attention of all five of them. To be fair, you don't think they knew either.

Asking how long you'd been in the class, what animals and/or plants you enjoyed, what you thought might help the environment... Basic questions. Until they weren't.

"So, you remember that field trip awhile back, right? Went down to the beach, note the environment, clean up anything hazardous... Teach says you also happened to be there. Which group were you assigned?"

"I was... assigned to your group, actually. I just, hung back a bit. Stuck closer to the shoreline."

That seems to cause a ripple effect amongst them, some unspoken agreement.

"So... did Teach tell you anything about how to earn extra credit?"

"No...?"

"It's quite simple: You join up with one of the class groups, and we do a presentation on one of the prehistoric creatures who they've mentioned. We already have one in mind, if you're game."

"Sure! Sounds good."

"Okay. How does a ... Compsognathus, sound?"

And suddenly you believe your secret isn't so secret anymore.

[g0ldenzinnie]

Thief

Couple: Yuta x fem!reader Genre: Fluff, meeting, cursing. Like a little suggestive but in the end and really, It's like very little. Sinopse: Your boyfriend breaks up with you, and in the way you met a new person... but with the wrong foot. DISCLAIMER: I had this story saved for years, like I did this when I was in high school, so if it's not that good I'm sorry, but since Yuta's birthday was recently, I wanted to upload something. But don't worry, I have something prepared for this spooky season with the dreams *spoilers uwu* Word count: 2,65k

A good man, a gentleman, he would never disrespect you. That’s what your friend said when she introduced him. A long time ago, you believed it, of course. But now you were heartbroken, crying in the street because now ex-boyfriend dumped you for some other girl. You didn’t want to know about anyone. You wanted the earth to swallow you up, for humiliating yourself in front of everyone in that restaurant, waiting for… let’s call him mister X. So that later, Mr. X would break up with you over the phone. And to top it all off, you hear his new chick in the background saying, “Baby, would you like a second round?”. Are you kidding me? You thought. You were waiting for him, in your best dress in the most elegant restaurant in the city, while he was bonking some bitch in your apartment. “Shit!” You screamed, after the call ended, punching the table. Everyone looked at you like you were some kind of freak.

You couldn’t stand it anymore. You run out of the restaurant, starting to cry in the middle of the sidewalk, going to your friend's department that was close by. That was the moment when you heard a scream behind you, “Excuse me, Miss!” You thought it was some drunk guy, so you kept walking, ignoring his call. Besides, you weren’t in the mood to speak to anyone. He insisted. “Miss!”. Obviously now talking to you, but still you didn’t turn around. You knew it was rude, but who cared? You were angry and tired of everyone. So when the guy finally screamed “Hey you fucking thief!”, finally you turn around and face the waiter who attended you. His hair was long and red. It suited him well. His eyes, you remembered, were dark brown, and he was wearing a white blouse as a uniform. He was very handsome. He received you with a wide and beautiful smile, yet now it was in a single line with a pissed expression. “Excuse me?” You said, giving him an outraged face. He makes a grin, taking his tongue out in disbelief. “Don’t you think because you’re pretty, you're going to get away with this” You didn’t know how to react since he insulted you but also made you a compliment. You cross your arms and looked at him up and down approaching to you. Not going to let him intimidate you, especially in this shitty day. “I'm sorry to break it to you, but I didn't steal anything.” “Oh really?” He says, still agitated by anger. At this point, he was in front of you, separated by just a meter. You found yourself distracted because of his beauty. How was it possible that every feature of his face was perfectly calculated? It was like he was sculpted by the gods themselves. You took a step back and put your hands on your waist. “Yeah. Look, I’m not having a good day. So, can you please just find the right girl you are looking?” You say, turning around to walk away from this super cute, but freak man.

However, he grabs your wrist firmly. “And don’t you think I had a bad day too?” The fact is that he did. His boss was in a mood today, so he kept him doing double work, like washing the dishes and attending the people. His day was getting worse and worse, but then, he saw you. Showing up in that gorgeous dress, with your eyes as shiny as the stars, and that smile? He thought for a moment he was being punished when he found out you were waiting for your so-called boyfriend. Besides, he didn’t even dare to shown up. That jerk didn’t know what he was missing. So when he finally decided to make a move, he saw you doing what you did in the restaurant and his anger grew. He couldn’t believe what you did, but you didn't know it yet. So you asked, “What the hell is wrong with you? I told you I didn't steal anything.” You shoved his grip, now very angry. “Then what is this?” he said, showing you the receipt of your order. Two martinis and an expensive wine. First you ordered the wine for mister X, his favorite. Then a half hour came by and you ordered your first martini. After that, another half hour and another martini. Just when you were finishing your second, the douchebag decided to call. And we know what happened next. You forgot of everything when you received the call, as result you also forgot about your debt. The words that were supposed to come of your mouth, were trapped in your throat. “And well? You are not a thief according to you.” He said looking expecting to see a reaction. His boss yelled at him when you storm out of the restaurant. Indeed, what at least he deserved now was an action from you. And you definitely gave him one. Tears started to come from your eyes as you sobbed, uncontrolled. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” You say, cleaning your tear with your hand and covering your face. “I’m such an idiot. It’s just that this day couldn’t get any worse.” Your head leans back, seeing the dark sky. The embarrassment made you unable to see him. “First, my boyfriend breaks up with me over the phone. Then, I humiliated myself in that restaurant. And now I'm ruining it for their staff, and to you.” You said, finally looking at him. With his frown of confusion dedicated to you. You laugh of frustration, remembering something. “Besides, I left that ridiculous expensive bottle unopened. I didn’t even take a glass because I wanted to open it with him. Since it was his favorite, why did it have to be his favorite?!” The boy in front of you was silent. You drop your gaze, with your tears still coming from your eyes. Everything was quiet, you believed that he was thinking of the many ways to kill you because of your stupidity. But then, you hear him laugh. Actually, he was chuckling. You couldn’t believe what you were seeing. He was really creepy, but his laughter was cute. “What kind of person cares about an unopened bottle of wine?” His gaze was all but angry. He found you quite funny and cute. More than ever, after seeing your reaction. “I would be concerned about the charges that I would have to pay.” You look at him in panic, realizing about the consequences. “Shit, the restaurant is pressing chargers?” You say, covering your mouth with your hands in panic. Shaking, as the final punch of this terrible day comes by. You didn’t want to go to jail. The boy notice this and shakes his head, taking your hand into his. “Hey, easy.” He says watching you carefully. "They aren't going to press charges if we go down there now, and fix this whole issue." His voice was calm, with his eyes lock into yours. The gaze he dedicated to you was full of confidence and security. Suddenly, you felt that with him, you were secure. That he wasn’t lying. “Okay?” He asks you, making sure you understand what he's saying. You nod and he smiles. “Good, let’s go”

The boy takes your hand and starts to walk to the restaurant. You were nervous, your hands were sweating, but he didn’t seem to matter. Actually, he squeezes your hand to give you some comfort and decides to talk. “So, what's your name?” You look at him in surprise, realizing you didn't tell him your name, and also you didn't know his. “You know, to not call you thief every time I want to talk to you” You let out a laugh. “Ha, ha, very funny.” You say, smiling. But then you say your name, he smiles, nodding. Like, your name really fitted you. “What about you? You didn’t tell me your name in the restaurant.” You ask him curious. “I’m Yuta” He responds. When you finally reach the door, he stops you. “Wait, you have um…” He points to the lower part of his eyes. You realize he was referring to your smudged makeup. “Shit” You say, trying to wipe it with your fingers, however it was worse. Yuta quickly reach in his back pockets to take out a tissue and handed it to you. “Thanks.” You say shy, fixing your mess. He watched you carefully, trying to understand how a gorgeous woman, like you, was suffering for some bastard. “Can I be real with you for a sec?” You lean your head, confused. “Sure” You respond, nervous. “You shouldn’t be sad for an idiot like that.” You stop cleaning yourself, reflecting what he said. He notices your reaction and sighs. “I’m sorry, but I can’t stand at the idea of you… you're so beautiful and here you are. Crying because of a douchebag who pretends to be a man.” You let a nervous laugh, dropping your arms to the side of your body, tired. “Look, maybe I think about him like that in the morning.” You say, raising your shoulders, defeated. “But he just broke up with me, it’s a normal reaction to be sad.” You say, finishing cleaning your makeup. “I would never break up with you.” He says like a normal stuff to say. By his tone, you could easily say he meant it. But you couldn’t stop remembering, you just met him. Even if his words were sweet as honey, you’ve met five minutes ago. Two hours if you count the time you spend with him in the restaurant. You just smile at him and hand him his tissue. “Thanks for everything.” He looks at the tissue in your hand, and shakes his head. “Keep it. You need it more than I do.” You laugh and nod. “Yeah, I think I do.” He laughs with you and points with his head to the door. You nod and finally enter the restaurant.

His boss was so angry, but Yuta handle him very well. After all, you finally pay your bill and Yuta wraps the famous wine in a bag. He also called you a taxi since it was late. You said it was fine, but he insisted. Said that they were many creepy people out there. Now you were outside, since the taxi arrived. You turn around to face Yuta, who also insisted on being with you until you entered the taxi. “Thanks Yuta again, and again, sorry for everything.” He shakes his head and gives you that wide smile. “Don’t worry. Besides, you added more adrenaline to my day. Nothing happens over here.” You smile and stand up, nervous. You didn’t know how to say goodbye. For example, you didn’t want to just wave at him because he has done a lot for you in the last hour. But also you didn't want to risk anything by making a bold move. Apparently he read your reaction, since he started to lean forward, placing a hand in your arm to give you a kiss on the cheek. You could smell his cologne, and his lips felt soft against your skin. You felt goosebumps of his proximity, as warm in your chest. He separated from you, still with his hand on your arm. His gaze was sweet but also unsatisfied. If he just met you in another circumstances, that cab wouldn’t be for one person. And that wine would be opened in his apartment, where he could fully appreciate your beauty. But maybe next time. You didn’t know Yuta yet, but he was definitely a fighter. After that moment, you blush and murmur a quiet bye. You enter the taxi and these droves off. In the road, you realize, you don’t have his number. You lean your head back in frustration, now your day couldn’t get any worse. “What the hell?” You say giving up on life, opening the bag where the wine was. You were going to get drunk eventually, so why don’t start now? When you took out the bottle, you see a sticky note attached to it. With a telephone number and a message, “If you need someone to share it. Send me a message when you get safe, Yuta.” You smile and safe the wine, for that special occasion.

[eolewyn1010]

Downton Abbey Fashion 28 - 1920s service worker fashion

And we’re back Downstairs! 1920 has left neither the uniforms nor the servants’ private garb untouched. Well, except for the men’s fashion, obviously, because some idiot in the 19th century decided that men’s fashion must be boring and only have two colors… But that’s why I’m talking only about women’s fashion here. That, and I am helplessly confounded by white tie, black tie, tails and dinner jackets.

Mrs Hughes gets two new dresses this season, both of which she keeps for a while – at least into the next season, perhaps longer. This first one is all black, business as usual, although I do quite like the subtle stripes. 1920s fashion has snuck in here as well; the dress is rather baggy, which I find unusual with the double-breasted closure. I’m used to seeing this kind of button rows on more structured garments. A wider, flatter collar than Mrs Hughes used to wear, but it doesn’t look half bad.

The other new dress is nowhere near as baggy in the top, although it’s still a rather streamlined cut, so it doesn’t look too dated. Well, it does have a waistband at the natural waist and this parted front over a lace layer; that does look a tad more Edwardian. I wish I could see the pattern of the black fabric better.

For her outside look, Mrs Hughes has one nice blue coat with a little black embroidery framing the collar (a coat she will inexplicably loose or toss out before next season) and two different hats. …Oh, for heaven’s sake; will I ever escape sloped, round black straw hats?

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I’m aware that this is the first time that I include Mrs Patmore in three seasons of looking at costumes, but honestly, she never seems to wear anything else than her grey dress with an apron up until this point when she actively puts an effort into dressing up. Also, I really resent her in the beginning for the amount of verbal abuse Daisy has to take from her. She even asks if this cherry blossom pink blouse with the bow tie closure is looking too girlish on her, but the coat tones it down. Nice coat, too, with the little piping details on the lapels, and the hat with the ruffle flowers gives it another spot of lighter color.

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One for O’Brien… Honestly, I don’t look a lot at O’Brien’s fashion because she only ever wears black because that is apparently the dress code for lady’s maids, and it’s usually frumpier than Mrs Hughes despite O’Brien being younger. Then again, she doesn’t seem to have a private life. I’ll make three crosses once I’ve reached the seasons without her. How is this so unpleasant to look at despite working with a striped top fabric and some layering? That ruffle down the front puts me in mind of a dressing robe. I have no idea what these sleeves are trying to be. This outfit somehow has at the same time too much and too little going on.

--------------

Interesting that the new maid dresses are of a very similar, perhaps even the same greenish-grey printed fabric the old ones were. What’s changed is the silhouette: Instead of a high standing collar, we have a spread point collar that leaves the neck uncovered; instead of the dress gathered in at the waist and the sleeves at the wrists, it’s all quite straight-lined with no notable volume anywhere. The apron still has the tiniest strip of lace in it, but altogether, it’s all clean rectangles, and so is the cap. And the apron brings in the waistline conflict: 1920 means drop waist, but tying an apron around the hips makes very little sense in the department of fixture and practicality. So the compromise is, the waistband does sit at the natural waist to serve its purpose, but the dress beneath it is so streamlined that the waist isn’t made any more noticeable by the very wide band that is not taking in any dress volume. Ethel’s uniform when she starts working in Isobel’s house looks much the same, only the fabric of her dress is plaid and the collar dips into a little V instead of being spread.

The evening uniform is similar in the making, again a spread point collar, with just a tiny white piping trim. Only here, the cap is a flimsy chiffon headband and the apron is likewise more for decoration than anything else. The fact that the apron has no shoulder straps whatsoever made me initially think it’s sewn on as a little extra layer, but no; it’s still tied around the waist. So my guess is that the top of the apron is pinned to the dress under it.

For something from Anna’s private wardrobe, she wears a darling dark blue coat when visiting Bates in prison. Love the whimsical little embroidery on her waistband. Her hat is still the same brown straw hat from last season, I think, only she swapped out the ribbon. Here we see a side effect of the servants occasionally being gifted clothes from Upstairs: They might be a tiny bit behind, fashion-wise; Mary’s and Lavinia’s coats had wide collars with this double-point style in the back before the turn of the decade. Not that this makes the coat any less nice.

Can’t see much of Anna’s outfit when she and Bates are painting their new house, but I thought this cute apron deserved mention. It’s got tiny flowers all over! The only reason why she could get away wearing a white apron is because they are, in fact, painting white.

I’ll save up Anna’s black lady’s maid dresses for next season when she wears them pretty much full time instead of just the final episode, but we have one more leisure look from the picnic she’s having with her husband. It’s not very visible in this shot, but she wears a light brown skirt with this, and I quite like the stripey blouse. Plus the hat, which looks cute and a little playful.

And finally, the pretty white dress Anna wears for the Ghillies ball. Gillies? I don’t know; I’m sorry, Scotland. Interestingly, we see a few young women dancing there who wear various styles of dress – one has more volume in the skirt, gloves, and a drop waist; another has long sleeves and no gloves, plus a high waistband. But they all wear white / off-white, so there might be dress code for that. Anna fits in there nicely with some simple lace on sleeves, collar and drop waist, though I think she could have added a tiny bit of jewelry to that neckline.

--------------

Yay, creep incoming. That is, Edna Braithwaite. She mostly runs around in her maid uniform in season 3, but we get this outfit when she attaches herself to Tom Branson like a leech when they go to the fair. The coat is rather nice; I like the lapels and the little lighter grey decoration elements on her waist. The hat is not a shape I find particularly flattering, but admittedly, the red tie on the straw makes for a nice color contrast.

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Daisy gets two new dresses that look so similar I first thought it’s the same dress and she just wears a different blouse under it, but no; that collar is attached to the dress, so it’s two separate outfits. Two dark grey dresses with the sleeves turned up to the elbow, the collar shape is the same, but one it beige with brown checker and the other is black with white checker. The variety of it. Ivy, as the new kitchen maid, can apparently wear whatever she wants, and while her collar has the same shape as Daisy’s, she’s opted for blue checker and a baggier top. I’m starting to think the double-breasted front closure in this time serves the purpose of making the top look wider and more square.

I like Daisy’s coat a little better – look at these adorable toggle buttons! And this orange knit hat that she wears a few times; finally another spot of color on her clothes. Because otherwise, I’m afraid we'll be stuck with grey cardigans and the palest of blue blouses with a wide sailor collar.

She also has a lighter-weight coat for less severe weather, but the hat is the same. To my aggravation, I only get the briefest glimpse at the dress Daisy is wearing here, something orange with vertical stripes. This puts her both in unison (design-wise) and in contrast (color-wise) with Ivy, her co-worker and sometimes friend-mostly rival. Ivy’s stripes are less wobbly, more clearly defined and blue – like her kitchen dress, come to think of it, whereas Daisy was established in salmon shades. I suppose the contrast is on purpose. Ivy’s knit cardigan and straw hat also make her look a tad more rural and girlish by comparison, but then, Daisy is a little older and already a widow; she may for once be the less naïve specimen here.

[fangirlfrom-hell]

When Your Parents are Detectives, You Gotta Try Harder || Upstead x daughter

*re-posting this because I'm stupid and accidentaly erased my blog 🫠

Also Burzek x daughter and Stellaride x twins

Sophia is Upstead's daughter. // Leslie and Benjamin are Stellaride's twins. //Makayla is Makayla.

Jay, Hailey, Adam, Kim, Severide, Stella, Violet, Gallo, Ritter, Will, Joe, Sylvie, Matt involved.

☆ 

-"What the hell is that?" Jay said dramatically pointing to his daughter as she entered the kitchen.

-"Sophia Halstead. Human. Nice to meet you". -She had inharited her father's sense of humor.

-"I mean what the hell are you wearing!?" -He asked shocked, not paying attention to his daughter's joke.

-"Oh! This is called a dress. Girls usually use them when the weather is hot outside". -Sophia replied sarcastically. -"It's fresh, you should try it".

-"Yeah, I'm not into it, too short...why isn't it covering your knees?" -Jay crossed his arms in a scolding dad position.

-"Seriously, Jay?" -Hailey raised her eyebrows and gave a look to her husband, while pouring herself a cup of coffee.

-"Well, good morning to you too". Sophia rolled her eyes and sat at the kitchen island to have breakfast, trying to ignore the situation. Anyway, she had foreseen her father's reaction the moment she decided to wear that green dress with small white flowers for the picnic that day. He was, after all, old fashioned, as he used to joke about.

-"You look really pretty, hunny". Hailey smiled, knowing what was going through her daughter's mind.

Sophia never tought she would feel so embarrased. Other than the school uniform, no one had ever seen her wearing a dress or skirt before, not even her parents. To be honest, it wasn't her type of clothing, she preferred jeans and not so tight shirts or blouses, always big boots as shoes. But she wanted to give it a try, she wanted to feel "pretty" and look femenine as the other girls at school.

-"Yeah, I mean that's not in doubt". Jay continued his wife's statement. -"But I find it innapropiate, you can't just go out like that. You are too young, dress' too short, lot of psychos out there. Do the math". And he took a drink from his coffee mug with the "Ranger" insignia.

-"Whoa, ok It's not like I'm going to a rave or something. This reunion it's supposed to be only for friends and family, isn't it? There are not psychos in that group...that we know of at least". Her parents grined at that. -"Besides, I have my platform boots on. They are iron point, I still can kick some asses if I need to".

-"Swearing jar!". -Hayley and Jay said unison, closing their eyes tiredly. This language matter was begining to be a problem and the swearing jar wasn't helping enough.

-"All right, you oppressors of free speech". She said while standing up. -"I'll get the jar". And she dissappeared.

-"Since when does she like wearing dresses? -Jay threw the question into the air. -"I mean, what's next? Make up?"

Hailey stared at Jay with a smirk on her face and he felt deep in his bones how she was reading him, so he avoided eye contact.

-"Is she acting like this because of a boy? Because she does talk a lot about that Severide boy".

-"Jay, you are over reacting" -Hailey laughed. -"They are friends, and for the record, she mostly talks about his twin sister, Leslie. They are both Severide, you might be confusing them".

Hailey leaved her seat and stood next to him: - "This is not even about the dress, is it?".

Jay opened his mouth to say something, but words didn't come out, he was feeling a little bit silly. At the same time, he tried to match his toughts with gestures, but he just ended up doing strange movements with his hands.

-"I don't know what hand gesture to make". They both laughed and he used one hand to grab her waist.

-"I know it is only a stupid dress. I do worry about the psychos, though. -He pointed out. -"But the thing is that when I saw her, reality hit and made me realize that she's not a little girl anymore. Yesterday she was pucking over girly stuff and now...she grew overnight".

-"Yes, I get that feeling, but...". She sighed. "-If it makes you feel better, she's just pretending. I know you're scared of loosing what you have with her, but you won't".

-"What do you mean she's pretending?". -He frowned his eyes.

-"I think she just wants to feel pretty, or what she sees around that is supposed to be pretty. Hard to believe coming from that girl, but she's in a vulnerable position right now".

-"But she is beautiful". -He didn't say it just because he was his father, he meant it with his heart. Hailey's eyes lighted up.

-"She just wants to fit in, you know?"

-"She never cared about that".

-"Mh. She's a thirteen years old girl now and let's say that kids at that age can be really mean".

Jay nodded with a confused expression.

-"She's exploring to find herself, but she's still the impulsive tough girl climbing trees, playing to be a cop, screaming at the TV watching sports with his dad and watching horror films at midnight thinking we don't notice". Both smiled at those ideas. Then Hailey's countenance changed and she look to another way crossing her arms. -"Also the girl who hasn't hesitated in throwing punches to defend her friends from bullies...". They both stared into the abyss remembering that time they got a call from school because she hit a boy who had been bothering Makayla. Blood was involved and stitches were sponsored by uncle Will.

-"Yeah, we still need to work on that". Jay shruged.

There was a small moment of peaceful silence where they just stared at each other.

-"I think I just unlocked the fear of she not wanting to spend an afternoon watching a hockey game with her dad, if you know what I mean...".

-"What are you talkig about? I'm always up to watch hockey with you". Sophia entered the kitchen again, this time carrying the jar on one hand and a pair of skates hanging on the other one. -"Much better if you take me to a live game".

Jay looked at his daughter and laughed when he saw her knees all full of scratches from recent bike falls.

-"What's up with the skates?" Her mom asked.

-"We all are taking our skates or boards to the picnic".

-"Sounds like fun".

-"Yeah. It was Severide's idea".

Jay gave an annoying look to his wife.

-"All right, let's go. We have to pick Will on our way".

Social reunions were usual between the firefighters from Firehouse 51, the Intelligence squad and some doctors from The Med. They had known each other and even worked together for years and now their kids were also good friends. It was Cindy Herrman's plan to organize a reunion in other place than Molly's. Violet had the idea of a picnic and she was not going to allow it to be otherwise, therefore Ritter and Gallo were forced to help with the organization. Silvye also helped with excitement.

It was a warm sunday morning , the weather was perfect to be outside. When Hailey, Jay, Will and Sophia arrived to the park, some of the guests were already there.

-"Hey, Halsteads!" -Kelly yelled and waved inviting them to seat at his picnic table with Stella and their twins: Leslie and Benjamin. Kelly and Jay were good close friends.

Sophia approached to sit next to the twins. Since Leslie was sitting on the edge of the bench, the vacant space was next to Benjamin. Before she could sit, Jay took the box of lukumades Hailey was carrying and gave it to his daughter: "Go put them on the food table". And he took advantage to sit next to the Severide boy. Everything happened so fast and natural that nobody noticed it but Hailey, who was looking at him with a look of disbelief.

On her way to leave the greek donuts her mom had baked, Sophia started to feel insecured. She felt as everybody was staring at her, and part of it was true, because they weren't used to see little Halstead dressed delicately and they found it too cute. Cindy smiled kindly when she saw her and greeted her with a warm hug: -"You look specially pretty today", to which Christopher agreed. She was relieved when Gallo and Ritter approached her talking nonsenses, treating her with normality. She rushed back to the table when she noticed Trudy staring at her with amazement.

When she went back to the table, Adam and Kim had arrived with Makayla.

-"Did you bring it?" -Sophia asked her hurriedly, wanting to get out of there.

-"Yes, it's in my backpack". -And she took a blanket out of it.

-"Let's go". -Leslie said standing up, followed by her brother.

-"We brought a blanket for the picnic, if you don't mind us leaving the table". -Makayla said to Kim.

-"I find that real cute". -Stella intervened. -"You guys even brought a basket. Real definition of a picnic day".

And the kids ran off without waiting for an answer or permission from any adult.

-"Don't get too far!". -Adam yelled at them.

Hailey looked at Jay with a smirk, teasing him because his silly plan to separate Sophia from Benjamin didn't work. He just rolled his eyes.

Time passed, everyone was having a blast, and now that everybody had arrived and lunch time was near, it was time for Kelly to shine.

-"Grilled sausages cooked by Severide". -Cruz said excited. -"You don't get that everyday".

Tired of waiting for the food, the kids took their skates and ran off the place.

-"We're going to skate". -Benjamin informed before disappearing along his friends.

-"Don't get too far!" -Adam yelled once more by inertia, as if it was his responsability to tell them so, this time not even looking at them.

As soon as she put her skates on, Sophia started to brag: -"Hey guys, I bet you can't do a cartwheel in your skates". And she did one as if it was nothig. She didn't even remember she was wearing a dress.

-"Cool". -The twins said at the same time.

-"Easy to do it on ice for me, not in wheels". -Makayla said.

Benjamin was the only one on a skateboard and he started to do some easy flips. Everyone was goofing around, when Sophia dead stopped and stared towards the horizon.

-"What are you looking at?" -Leslie asked intrigued. And the four teenagers looked towards the same place, trying to figure it out.

-"There's no way!" -Ben looked at Sophia and she turned to look at him with a smirk and challenging eyes as saying "Watch me". She was looking at a hill, a very steep hill and she wanted to go down on her skates.

-"It's too dangerous". -Ben tried to stop her, but his words and worry only worked to encourage her more.

It was Sylvie the one that saw how Makayla and Leslie were running back towards the picnic.

-"I think something happened". -She said to Matt and they stood up from their places.

The girls' screams for help started to echo among the adults.

-"They were four when they left and I only count two of them". -Ritter observed.

-"Where's Ben?" -Violet asked.

-"Wherever Sophia is, for sure". -Gallo answered.

And suddenly they visualized the figure of the little Severide boy helping Sophia to walk, carrying her on his side. The girl was full of blood, it looked dramatic at the distance.

Not knowing what was going on, and not understanding a word of what Mak and Leslie were trying o explain, their parents ran to the kids.

Without thinking, Jay took Sophia in his arms and rushed to carry her back to the picnic, which wasn't too far away. She was silently crying in pain. Hailey followed with a worried face. Stella and Kelly patted his boy on the back and walked close to their friends.

Will quickly checked on his nice, helped by Sylvie. She was full of wounds, mostly on her legs and knees, but also on her hands and elbows. Some scratches on her face.

-"Ok, what happened?"

-"She wanted to skate down a hill...a really steep hill". -Benjamin started sounding very concerned. -"I told her not to do it, but I couldn't stop her! She did it really well to tell the truth, but that only worked for her to want to risk it more and...". He swallowed hard.

-"And what!?" -His father forced him.

-"She did it again, ayes blindfolded...backwards".

-"Jesus Christ, Sophia!" -Will said scoldingly.

-"Are you crazy!?" -Her mother was starting to loose her mind. These stories were recurring for her, but they were escalating in madness.

-"It's my foult. I should have tried harder to stop her. I'm so sorry!".

-"It's not your fault". -Jay said in a calming tone. -"The more you had tried to stop her, the worse she would had made it".

-"I helped her up the hill. I tried to carry her so she wouldn't get more hurt, but she didn't let me. She's a stubborn". -Those last words came out with certain recentment.

-"Stop talking shit about me as if I wasn't listening!" -Sophia screamed in pain. There was no space to think about the swearing jar in that moment.

-"Ok". -Will started. -"For a girl so young to have such stupid ideas, you are very luck. There's no need to go to the hospital, your wounds are not that deep, but it will hurt like hell for days".

-"Stupid dress". -She muttered.

-"I brought the first aid kid". -Violet gave it to the doctor.

-"I need to clean your wounds. This is going to hurt tons, Soph".

Hailey took her daughter's hand, knowing what was coming next.

-"All right, everybody go back to you activities". -Sylvie started. -"This is not going to be pretty, let's give her some space".

-"Let's go, Benjie". -Stella said to his son who didn't want to leave his friend. -"She's going to be fine".

After that, Sophia didn't want to go home, she was too proud to do it. She was silently eating her sausage sitting in between her parents.

-"Thank you for helping her". -Jay broke the silence talking to Benjamin.

-"Yes, thanks". -Hailey continued. -"It was very brave of you".

-"I could have done it" -Sophia shaked her head- "But this stupid dress got tangled".

Kelly and Stella laughed at Sophia's statement. The spirit of that girl had always intrigued them greatly, she really was the daughter of their parents.

-"To be honest, even thought I was scared about it, I was absolutely sure you were going to make it".

-"Next time make sure to use kneepads and a helmet". -Leslie pointed out.

-"There's no way there'll be a next time". -Hailey closed the conversation.

-"Listen to me". Adam said to Mak. -"If you ever do something stupid like that, you won't get out of the house until you turn 21".

It was noon when they got back home. On their way, Sophia was strangely silent. Jay sat on the living room couch to watch TV. Sophia came in slowly, not being able to bend her knees due to the wounds.

-"You need help?"

She sat next to her dad, while he pulled up the coffe table close for her to to bring her legs up and keep them straight.

-"Thanks".

-"My pleassure". He turned the TV off, knowing she had something in mind.

-"You don't need to worry. I will never use a stupid dress ever again".

-"Soph, you would've get hurt anyway...clothes are not the problem, it's your lack of criteria". -Hailey entered and sat on the table, looking at her daughter's knees.

-"No, I mean...it's not about that". -She sighed. -"Everyone was staring at me, as if I looked silly or something, felt like a clown. How could you even let me out like this?".

-"I think that if they stared was because you looked georgeus and nobody had ever see you like that before...not even us". -Jay said honestly.

-"I don't know what I was trying to prove. I just...". -Her eyes got teary.

-"You just what?" -Her mom asked.

-"I just wanted to feel pretty. Everybody sees me as an impulsive and reckless girl...".

-"And they all love you like that, for who you are".

-"Yeah, well...I don't know what I was thinking. Things have happened in school and it was a feeling that grew inside me. It's stupid...".

-"No, it's not". -Hailey reassured her.

-"It felt good at the begining, but when I was there at the picnic I didn't feel like myself. I was really unconfortable". Calmed tears began to roll down her cheeks. -"I don't even know why I'm crying".

Jay and Hailey remained silent looking at her.

-"I just want to look and feel normal as the rest of the girls...I feel small around them".

-"Sophia Anne Halstead". -His father started. -"Look at me: You are the most beautiful girl I've ever known. I'm being objective here".

Sophia grined: "What about mom?".

-"She's the most beutiful woman, you are the most beautiful girl".

They laughed.

-"I mean it. Inside and outside, you are precious. Who cares about the looks, anyway? You are beautiful if you want to look girly, you are beautiful if you don't. And if someone can't notice that, it's because they're blind and they can't see the wonderful piece of little human being that you are".

-"Thanks, dad". He wiped his tears with his hands and hugged her with one arm. Hailey sat on the other side.

-"Don't squeeze to tight". -She said to both of them. -"There are parts of my body that I didn't even know existed in pain right now".

-"Now, if being more "feminine" is what you want.." -Jay said releasing tension. -"...you should start working on that". Her dad pointed to the swearing jar that was over the edge. -"I'm just joking".

-"I owe it like $5 for this afternoon".

-"You owe it like $20, but we can let it go". -Hailey said strocking her hair.

-"What do you want to do now?".

-"Is there any hockey game tonight?" -Sophia asked cleaning her face.

-"We can find a repeated one or we can always watch one of those terrible horror movies you like to watch".

Sophia opened her eyes in surprise.

-"When your parents are detectives, you gotta try harder". -Hailey said standing up: "I'll make popcorn".

The tone of the conversation had changed to a more relaxed one.

-"Not that I approve, but you know who was truly amazed by your looks today? That Benjamin". Jay said playing in annoyance.

-"What are you talking about? He made fun of me, said I looked snobby".

-"He was lying! Tried too hard to hide it" -Her mom yelled from the kitchen.

-"We are detectives, don't you remember?" -Her father teased her.

Thanks for reading. If you liked it, it would help my soul if you give it a like, comment or share. 😌♡

[shyvioletcat]

The Calling - Chapter Eight

Snuck this one in by the skin of my teeth but it wouldn’t be Mermay without an update of this fic. I think I’m really getting my groove back with this fic, so that’s very exciting for me. 

~ The Calling Masterlist ~

~~~~~

Aelin had waited up for Rowan, dressed in her new nightgown and basking in the warmth of the fire. After he had stormed out of dinner, the skies had opened up and she noted that his cloaks still hung on their hooks. With the rain picking up and becoming unceasing it was likely he would be soaked through by the time he returned home. Aelin never got to see it, her skin began to itch and her body became fatigued, it wouldn’t be much longer before the transformation forced itself in her. Reluctantly she went to her current bed chamber, this time leaving the bathroom door open. Shedding her nightgown was another disappointment, she liked wearing beautiful things and the slip of soft lace was no exception. But it served no purpose in the bath and would only be ruined by the water. 

She turned on the tap and then shrugged the nightgown off her shoulders, letting it pool at her feet and she gave it one last longing look and stepped into the water. It rose steadily, and inch by inch already soothing the irritation that came with being out of water for too long. If she had her amulet she would be able to last days without needing to shift. The lure to be in her natural form would dampen and she would be free to roam this human world as she desired. Until then, she would be stuck in this nightly routine of soaking and shifting to placate her needs.

The one thing Aelin was grateful for was that her rescuer had a deep tub at her disposal. As the water rose above her hips he let go, letting the shift take over. The transformation was always uncomfortable, sometimes painful, but it wasn’t long until Aelin relaxed, the cool water flowing through the gills on her ribs. Even though this wasn’t the sea, being surrounded by water always held some semblance of home. It soothed her enough that it wasn’t long before drifting off to sleep. 

Rowan returning and closing the door to the bathroom is what woke her hours later, only enough to make her stir. All she registered was the room dimming and the click of the latch slipping into place. As sleep took her again she told herself she would have to save her questioning about his hissy fit for the morning. 

When morning came and Aelin had shifted back into her human form, she dried herself off and stepped out into the common area dressed in her lace nightgown. Disappointingly Rowan wasn’t there. There was a note in the kitchen that he was out for the day, no other explanation than that. Aelin huffed, arms crossed over her chest. This was not going well at all.

Rowan made sure to bring back dinner in the evening so they had no need to eat in the dining room with the rest of the crew. After dinner he cleaned up and then dimmed the room by extinguishing all the lights except for the fireplace and a candle by his bed. There was no goodnight, he just buried his face in a novel. What was even more disappointing was that the next day he followed the exact same pattern. There was barely any interaction between the two of them and it was enough to set Aelin’s nerves on edge. 

When the third day dawned with sunshine peeking through the recently ever cloudy sky and Rowan had left their living quarters soon after, Aelin was determined not to spend another day wallowing away in solitude. With the man she called her husband determined to ignore her, Aelin returned her focus to finding her amulet. She wasn't going to waste the sunshine and decided to take a more dedicated approach for the search for what she had regrettably lost. And it was also time to gather her next payment. 

Forgoing shoes Aelin dressed in a skirt and blouse, slung a satchel over her shoulder and wandered down to the beach. The sand was still damp and cold from the overnight rain, leaving a heavy footprint for each step she took. The beach was otherwise empty and Aelin was still alone, but with the pounding of the waves and the scent of the sea, at least this solitude was comforting. Looking out to the dark blue abyss of water in front of her she looked for the flow of the currents. The seascape of the shore was ever changing but the deep currents that this coastline was subject to would stay the same. 

Aelin still held out hope that her amulet was hidden somewhere in the sand or caught in a rock crevice beneath the water. The otters still searched, as far as she was aware of, but there were places they couldn’t reach. Right now she dared not enlist help from other local creatures.

She started her observant meandering closer to the township and then wandered down. The consolation Aelin held onto was that if it wasn't in possession, she at least would know if it had fallen into someone else’s. That kind of power did not go unnoticed, and whether by her own senses or being informed by another, she would know. Aelin had been so graciously saved by Rowan scavenging on the beach. She might have to start paying visits to the merchants in town—to see if a fellow scavenger had traded it in. 

Aelin walked along the beach towards the far end of it where the otters played amongst the rocks. The waves called to her, their crashing as they broke alluring as any song she might sing. She dared not even take the smallest step into the water, not knowing what densiens might be nearby. Her powers had a tendency to run away from her and the consequences were not worth the risk for a little comfort. 

As she got closer to the rocks she saw brown heads bobbing out in the water. The sight made Aelin smile and she trilled out a sharp whistle to get their attention. While she waited for whomever wanted to come and greet her, she explored the rockpools. Creatures huddled and swam in the shallow water. Snails dragged along the dark rock, clusters of anemones swayed in the gentle current, starfish clung to what they could. 

Aelin went to the hideaway used by her animal friends to gather what they found. It was a decent bounty but not as large as previous pick ups. It was still predominantly pearls and Aelin considered if she might have to bribe the otters to widen their search area to placate her business partners. Eventually her otter friends did arrive, bringing Aelin not only oysters, but also clams, small fish and even prawns. 

Looking at the position of the sun, Aelin realised she had been out until almost noon. She smiled at the otters as they squeaked excitedly. “Have you brought me lunch?”

She did in fact share a meal with them, not caring in the slightest that it was all raw. With no knife, Aelin used a stone and a tight crack in the rambling rocks to crack open the shell fish. They were fresh and delicious and she ate more than she shared. The otters did not mind, they seemed eager to please. The youngling she had met before curled up in her lap and dozed in the sunshine. 

For a long while Aelin just sat there, happy to stare at the ocean and run a hand through the little otter’s soft fur. When it woke up and presumably scampered off back to its mother it was time to stretch her legs. Aelin surveyed the area, deciding she might as well climb the rocky outcrop and see what lay on the other side. She assumed it was another beach, but she couldn’t know for sure. Weather and lack of guide hadn’t lent itself to adventuring. Aelin tucked a portion of her skirt into her belt and shifted the bag so it sat behind her, then started climbing across the rocks. But she didn’t get too far. 

“What a pleasure it is to find you here,” a male voice said from behind her. 

Aelin turned, finding Fenrys with his pants rolled up midway up his calves and hands in his pockets. She wasn’t the only one taking advantage of the auspicious sunshine. 

Clambering down the rocks, she said, “The good weather is too fleeting to waste it seems.”

When Aelin’s feet had sand under them instead of rock she pulled her skirt loose and let it fall back to her ankles. Her hands were filthy from gripping the rocks but she wouldn’t risk using the sea water to wash it away, so her skirt would have to do. The muck transferred, leaving smudges of residue on the fabric covering her thighs. When she looked up Fenrys had a perplexed look on his face.

“What is it?” she asked him. 

“There’s an entire ocean that would gladly wash away some of that dirt and grit,” Fenrys said. 

“I would rather not,” Aelin said, this was a topic of conversation that she wanted to avoid. So she walked past Fenrys, heading back towards the town as a distraction. 

He was not deterred in the slightest, however, and followed. “Why is that? I thought as a siren, you would be drawn to the sea if anything else.”

Aelin stopped, Fenrys right along with her, and sighed. She could refuse to answer him, dismiss him and keep walking back to the silent apartment. But that was the problem—she’d go back to the silence and the solitude with nothing to do. Her lovely day ruined. Aelin considered for a moment, there was no real reason for her not to talk to Fenrys, she would just have to be particular with what she shared. She and Fenrys had been friendly, he had been the one to help her when she needed assistance on more than one occasion. Whether that was sewing clothes or tormenting Rowan, he was more than willing. Looking at his open and sincere face Aelin decided that they could indeed be real friends. First of all, that would require some honesty and not abandoning conversations on her part. 

“It sings to me, even now,” Aelin closed her eyes  as the song of the wind and waves filled her. She shivered at the thrill of it, ignoring it the best she could. “But for the time being we need to be lost lovers.”

“I don’t suppose you’ll tell me why,” Fenrys said, trying to charm her with a smile. 

Aelin laughed, winking at him. “I don’t think we know each other well enough yet.”

“Shall we rectify that?” Fenrys presented his arm like a gentleman, the gesture proper enough that Aelin bowed her head before accepting. 

They started to stroll down the beach, both barefoot and arm in arm. Only a few moments passed before Fenrys resumed their conversation.

“I’m a curious man, by nature,” he said, glancing her way. 

“Is that so? I would never have guessed,” Aelin teased. 

“I did mean what I said, I would like to get to know you better,” Fenrys fought his grin. “It’s only fitting with you being the new wife of one of my dearest friends.”

That made Aelin laugh. “That’s a very generous term.”

“Friend or wife?” 

She laughed again, covering the sound with her hand. “Wife on my part, I can’t judge your friendship. I do feel like Rowan gives everything begrudgingly though.”

“A very apt observation, I call him a friend but I sometimes wonder if he’d do the same,” Fenrys said. “It makes for a good sailor, rivalling the waves with their unrelenting stubbornness. It means he’s willing to stand against it the best any man can.”

“The sea is a contemptuous mistress to have,” Aelin agreed. 

“I would say it makes her that much more endearing,” Fenrys said with a wink.

“Would you pass out if you went an entire conversation without flirting?” 

Fenrys tipped his head back and laughed. “I just might. How can I help it when I find myself in such fine company?”

Aelin rolled her eyes. “You are incorrigible.”

There was another charming smile from Fenrys. “So I’ve been told… Amongst other things.” 

“All awful, I suppose,” Aelin said. 

A surprisingly large wave crashed offshore, drawing Aelin’s attention away. Her free hand swayed to the melody of it as her eyes trailed after the fading foam. Aelin could almost feel it—she wanted to feel the push and pull of the tides. All she could settle for was bath water that smelled of rust. 

“Do you miss it? The sea?” 

Fenrys’ question broke the hold the waves had over her and she turned away from them to make the separation less tempting. “I do. It is where I truly belong, no matter the enticements of human life.”

“How long do you intend to grace us with your delightful company?” Fenrys asked.

“It’s hard to say,” Aelin replied. It was a vague answer, an avoidant answer. And she had just become resolved that they were to be friends, so she decided to give him a little more. “I’m waiting to be called home, and until then it is safest for myself and those I care about to stay here.”

“It must be lonely, to be separated from not only the sea but your loved ones as well,” her companion noted.

Aelin ignored the discomfort of empathy that Fenrys so freely gave. He was right, she might as well admit it. “It is.”

“Would you count your husband as one of those enticements?” Fenrys asked, trying to lift the sombre mood that had fallen. “Is he treating you well? Not pressing his advantage with all those hours spent alone together?”

A wearied sigh escaped Aelin before she could stop it. “I couldn’t get him to press his advantage if I tried.” 

Fenrys snorted, the cough he attempted to disguise it with afterwards was pathetic. “I… could you have marital relations? I mean, with him being human and you being, well, you.”

“Yes of course. The, ah…” she paused as she considered the right wording. “The insides are the same. The transformation only occurs on the outside. So, yes, that is more than possible. It’s not like there are added teeth or anything.”

The poor man choked, he had to stop walking entirely to compose himself. “That is good to know.”

Aelin let Fenrys’ arm go and walked a few paces ahead so she could face him. “Why? Planning to entice a siren to your bed?” 

The way Fenrys laughed told her he was still recovering from her revelation. “You never know when the opportunity might present itself.”

There was a slight promise to his voice, maybe it was an invitation. Considering how lonely Aelin was, it was a tempting offer, but she knew she and Fenrys were better suited to being friends. They both did, so his teasing smirk was both an apology and a reassurance there was no offence intended or taken. 

“In fact,” Aelin watched as the man braced himself for whatever new information she was about to give him. “If we so desired, a human and myself in siren form could still in fact have relations.”

Aelin watched as Fenrys’ handsome face contorted in confusion and curiosity. He was silent for a moment, no doubt trying to picture the arrangement without the finer details Aelin had left unsaid. He was thinking about it so hard that Aelin thought a vein might burst. Eventually there was a small scoff, and another ripple of confusion across his handsome features. “How?”

Aelin laughed, the sound taking over her entire body. Fenrys’ open curiosity was endearing and seeing him dumbfounded was beyond entertaining. He looked at her expectantly, waiting for the answer to his question, entirely confident he would give it to her. If Aelin could control her own laughter she would answer—or she might just supply him with more vague suggestions to lead him on. However, before she could decide which path to take, a newcomer interrupted them. 

It seemed that bad weather would be ruining her day. Instead of rain clouds it was a broody sailor to drain away the warmth of the sun. 

~~~~~

Rowan spent the day fishing with not another soul in sight. He had gone to the headland at the far end on the next beach over from Mistward. It had been quiet and secluded, exactly what he had been craving. All he had was himself and the expanse of tumultuous ocean in front of him, and that was all he needed. His efforts had been fruitful as well. He’d caught five decent sized fish, too much for him to eat before they spoiled but Emrys would appreciate what was left after Rowan took what he wanted. 

He had decided to walk home along the shore, and when one beach ended he fully intended to continue the same path after he’d crossed over the small rocky break between beaches. Then Rowan saw two figures on the beach and started to question his decision. Fenrys and Aelin walked on the sand, arm and arm deep in conversation. 

Not for the first time Rowan questioned why Aelin hadn’t chosen Fenrys for this whole endeavour. They made a more likely pair. She had told them that she’d chosen Rowan to torment him, and he believed her without a single doubt. Aelin seemed determined to irk him at every turn. Spending his money, leaving her intimate wear around his apartment, snarking remarks when she could. It was like everything she did was to rile him. Considering her nature he didn’t know why he expected anything else. 

In the end he decided to keep to his plans and walk on the beach. If the siren had found more treasures he could take them straight into town to trade. Rowan eased down the grass and scattered rocks onto the sand, following the footprints to his destination. Ahead of him he saw Fenrys stop and Aelin kept going a few paces in front before turning. For a moment she just watched Fenrys, her face brightening with amusement. In the end that amusement crested and laughter broke out of her. 

The sound rang along the beach, so sweet compared to the creature who it came from. Not only that, but Aelin herself was beautiful in this moment, her face transformed into something joyful. Something human. Aelin played the role well enough but Rowan had to keep reminding himself that his guest was not like him. Beauty and charm be damned, this thing was a killer dressed in fine clothes. Clothes that he had apparently bought.

That was just another reason Rowan had found himself eager to be out of her presence. At every turn she sought out to provoke him and taking his money to buy frivolous things had agitated him enough that he was about to call the whole thing off. That was not what they had agreed on. Rowan thought it might be time for her to go back to the ocean and leave him be. 

Aelin’s laughter sobered when she saw Rowan a few feet away. Her eyes darted over him, snagging on the bundle of fish. Fenrys noticed him too, turning and standing in between them. Rowan couldn’t decide if it was to step in and prevent physical blows or to watch it play out. 

“Productive day, I see,” Aelin boasted. Rowan’s response was only to nod. “I was too, if you were interested.”

Aelin patted the satchel on her hip, looking proud of herself. She wasn’t going to receive it.

“I decided to take a stroll along the beach and found our friend exploring. We… had some interesting conversations,” Fenrys said, laughter bubbling in his voice. “Most informative, and entertaining.”

The two of them shared a conspiratorial look, Aelin’s mouth spread into a stunning smile. Rowan knew this… this allure around the siren was all part of the ploy to trap her victims. He saw human teeth, but he knew what truly lay beneath. All it would take was a little song and ill intent and she could have them on their knees. 

“I saw the outcome of you enjoying yourself. You almost seemed human,” Rowan chose not to look at Aelin as he added, “not the monster you are.”

A sharp and inhuman hiss had Rowan looking up as Aelin’s turquoise eyes narrowed, full of anger like a stormy sea. Rowan waited for the retort, but it never came. Instead she threw her satchel at Fenrys and walked away. The only sound for a few long moments was the crashing of waves and crunch of sand beneath feet. 

Rowan didn’t watch Aelin walk away, but Fenrys did. She had nearly disappeared from sight when Fenrys turned back, looking far less amused than he had moments earlier. 

“You don’t need to be such a bastard,” the blonde man said, shaking his head in what could be described as disappointment. 

“Don’t let your feelings construe your judgement,” Rowan added. 

“Gods above, Rowan,” Fenrys muttered. “She has teased and taunted, but she had never meant us any true harm. Would it kill you to show the smallest amount of kindness?”

Rowan gestured a hand in the direction of when Aelin had now disappeared. “We know what she is.”

“I stand by what I said.”

Rowan fixed his exuberant crewmate with a look. “What did she tell you?”

“Not everything.” Fenrys paused to consider his words. “But here’s an idea, why don’t you ask her.”

“There’s no need,” Rowan answered quickly. 

A wry smile appeared on Fenrys’ face. “She’s your wife.”

Rowan rolled his eyes. “She’s no more my wife than she is yours. And she can go home.”

“She can’t,” Fenrys answered.

The simple response gave Rowan pause. “Why?”

Fenrys shrugged and slipped the satchel over his head. “I don’t know. But what I do know is that she is lonely and isolated from the world she knows best.”

Rowan didn’t have a reply, he petulantly kicked at the sand instead. 

“She needs friends, Rowan,” Fenrys said. “So stop being such an ass.”

“Wait,” Rowan called after Fenrys had started to walk away. “Give me the satchel, I have to trade those.”

Fenrys didn’t bother to turn around. “Not this time. I think it was pretty clear I should be the one to take in this load.” 

There was no room for discussion and Fenrys kept up in the direction of town, leaving Rowan alone on the beach. Although he didn’t want to admit it, there was merit to what Fenrys had said. Aelin had alluded to the fact that she had spent time in the human world, but she was stuck where she did not belong. And not by choice if what Fenrys had said was anything to go by. 

On the walk back to the bunkhouse Rowan considered the issue. He avoided the back stairs to his apartment and headed around to the main entrance instead. There was a variety of delicious aromas coming from the kitchen with Emrys already prepping for the evening meal. When Rowan stepped into the kitchen he found the gracious host at the stove, sliding an array of chopped vegetables into a pot. 

Something nudged at his shin and Rowan pulled the fish he had up a little higher so that the resident cat did not take a bite out of one of them. 

“Stay out of it, Pearl,” Rowan said affectionately. The cat’s answer was a soft meow. 

“A good day fishing then?” Emrys said, dusting his hands off on his apron. 

“As you can see.” Rowan handed over the bundle of fish, Pearl’s yellow eyes following the movement. 

“How’s that wife of your’s, boy?” Emrys asked as he put the fish on a counter away from the cat’s reach. 

Rowan’s immediate thought was to tell the truth, harking back to his thoughts of being done with the whole falsehood. But… He would lose his added income and what Fenrys had said nagged at him. Rowan was curious about Aelin’s world and why she had come here. They didn’t need to be friends, but acquaintances might suffice. 

“She’s well, thank you for asking,” Rowan said.

Emrys looked pleased. “We haven’t seen you around much. I hope you’re treating her well, she seems like a nice girl. I should have asked, are all these fish for me?”

It had been Rowan’s plan to take one back to his apartment for dinner for another night shut in his awkwardly silent apartment. Another idea struck him, and it didn’t include any of the fish he caught today. 

“All yours,” Rowan said, then crouched to pet the cat at his feet. “Make sure Pearl gets some too.”

Emrys laughed. “I don’t think she’ll give me a choice.”

Rowan walked through the dining room as a shortcut. He hoped Aelin hadn’t wandered off again, it would potentially make him question what he was about to do. He unlocked the door attached to the hallway into his apartment. It was quiet, but not empty. Aelin was by the armchair sorting through her clothes. She didn’t acknowledge him, not for a full five minutes. The siren had reason to be angry and no reason to offer him pleasantries. Rowan had to clear his throat twice to get her attention. 

Aelin turned, very slowly, it almost seemed preternatural. “Yes?”

“I thought you might like to go out for dinner tonight,” Rowan said before he could think better of it. 

“You mean to the dining hall?” Aelin asked, dropping a pale blouse onto her pile of clothes. 

“No,” Rowan said, watching as curiosity seemed to spread through Aelin’s whole body. “I mean I would like to take you into town and get dinner there.”

Aelin smiled, free of all malice. If Rowan had to describe it, he would call it excited. “I’ll get my cloak.”

~~~~~

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[valiantstarlights]

[Dreamling Week Day 3: Curiosity (killed the cat)] An All-Consuming Kind of Love

This fic is very much within dead dove territory, so please read the CWs and proceed with caution. But if you enjoy that kind of thing, may I shamelessly ask for incoherent yelling in your tags? Please? 🖤

CW: oh wow where do I start 😂 Student!Dream highkey seducing Professor!Hob, Hob cheating on his girlfriend Eleanor with Dream, marathon sex...everywhere, Dark!Dream, drugging someone's food, blackmail, death(?) threats, dubcon, feminization, and equally unhinged!Hob.

If anyone needs assurance after reading those tags, then rest assured that Dream and Hob will end up together and they'll live happily ever after.

The thing is, Dream Endless isn't even Hob's student. He's only sitting in for his sister, Delirium, the one who is actually enrolled in Hob's course, because she had to go to rehab.

The first time Dream showed up, he was dressed in black from head to toe, and stared at Hob so intensely that after class, Hob had to check in the bathroom to see if he had something stuck in his teeth or, god forbid, if his fly was open.

And after that day, well.

Dream still dressed in black, but his style has...branched out. The first time Hob notices the mesh shirt instead of the usual black t-shirt, it took him a second too long to tear his gaze away, and Dream had smirked. His gaze, if possible, became even more intense after that.

And then he started wearing skirts. Plaid black and grey ones that Hob should not be salivating over, especially when Dream crosses his legs.

And after that, the skirt came with fishnet stockings and high heels. Just, full-on embracing slutty schoolgirl core, or whatever the kids are calling it these days.

(Hob isn't that old. He's just 34, and his students are no more than a decade younger than him.)

No one reprimands Dream because apparently, his skirt's length is long enough to pass inspection, and there's no rule against wearing fishnet stockings or heels.

(The people doing the inspection doesn't know that Dream would often roll his skirts up until the hem would fall barely past his mid-thigh.)

Hob supposes that he should count himself lucky that Dream's tops became more conservative when he started wearing skirts. If he had paired his mesh shirt with the skirts, it would have been all over for Hob.

Luckily, Dream's tops are mostly composed of simple blouses, often with long sleeves, accessorized with a long red ribbon tied around his neck, like he was a goddamn present waiting to be unwrapped.

Hob tries very hard not to notice it when Dream pulls one end of the ribbon in class and twirls it around his long fingers. He doesn't do it hard enough to untie the ribbon, but it's enough to keep Hob's imagination churning out incredibly vivid images of what he'd like to do to Dream's pale neck.

Hob is trying very hard to be a good person. He has a girlfriend he loves. He's even thinking about proposing to her once he gets promoted.

--

A few weeks before Delirium is set to come back, Hob is running late, and accidentally bumps into a student while going up the stairs.

The student falls forward, and Hob barely catches them from faceplanting into the edges of the stairs. The papers they were holding aren't so lucky, however, and ends up scattering around them in a cascade of paperwork.

Hob curses but bends down and starts helping the student gather up their papers. The student, a step above him, bends down as well to start collecting their things.

"I'm sorry, Professor Gadling," the student says, and Hob looks up because he knows that voice. And sure enough, it's Dream Endless, wearing his slutty schoolgirl outfit.

Hob is just about to say that it's fine, he's the one at fault here, when he sees a sliver of the inside of Dream's blouse, and catches a glimpse of a lacy black bra.

His thoughts come to a standstill. Is Dream...also wearing female undergarments under his clothes? For some reason, the thought never occurred to him before, and the revelation has him gawking like a fool in broad daylight, leading Dream to say, "Are you alright, Professor? You look flushed."

Hob nods and keeps his head low after that, intent on just helping Dream gather his things and handing it to him so they could both get to class.

"Thank you, Professor," Dream says after Hob has given him his things. He's looking up at him through his lashes, even when they're roughly the same height. For some reason, Dream always manages make himself look smaller than Hob.

And, fuck, is he wearing make-up? Or had his lips always been that shade of pink?

Dream smiles when Hob remains transfixed, and starts going up the stairs again.

Hob's big mistake is looking up to follow Dream with his gaze.

Because Dream is wearing a thong under his skirt, and Hob can see the base of an anal plug resting between his ass cheeks.

He swears under his breath, and sure enough, Dream looks back down towards him. "Sir?" he asks, sounding demure and shy and tempting. He cocks his hips to one side and Hob could see how the plug twitched, like Dream just squeezed tight around it.

"I'm fine," Hob says through gritted teeth, and speedwalks his way up the stairs and a couple of corridors to reach the lecture hall.

Dream arrives not long after him and makes sure to sit in the very front row, legs slightly open, eyes dark, daring, wanting, allowing Hob to take a look.

Hob spends the rest of the class behind his desk to hide his erection.

--

Hob can't pinpoint when exactly he admits to himself that he wants to fuck one of his students.

(Again, technically, Dream isn't even his student, but the fact that he's using the word 'technically' already means he knows he's in big trouble.)

Was it when Hob rushed out of the lecture hall the very same day he bumped into Dream on the stairs, his messenger bag placed strategically in front of his crotch area?

He couldn't help it if his thoughts were racing, and his body was quicker than his mind. He couldn't help it if the thought of sliding Dream's thong to the side, removing his plug, and sliding right into his slutty little hole had him locking himself up in a bathroom stall and jerking himself off furiously.

Was it when Dream came to class eating a red lollipop so lasciviously that even a couple of students stared at him in lust? Was it after, when he coldly turned down the Corinthian twins' offer to fuck him?

Was it when Hob was having sex with his girlfriend one night and almost moans out Dream's name when he came?

Or is it today, when Dream is sucking on a popsicle in the quad, in plain sight of Hob's office window? When Dream deepthroats the popsicle while gazing lustfully into Hob's eyes?

Is it when Hob tilts his head just so, beckoning Dream to come to his office? Hob's consultation hours just finished, after all, and he's just about to head home for the weekend.

When did Hob realize that thoughts of Dream have consumed him? He doesn't know.

But perhaps it was on the very first day Dream came to his lecture hall and their eyes met. When Hob thought how cute Dream was and how unfortunate that he was his student. And then delighting, afterwards, when he finds out that Dream isn't his student, at least not officially.

--

Hob pins Dream against the door as soon as he enters his office and fucks his tongue inside Dream's still slightly cold mouth.

"Fucking tease," Hob mutters against Dream's lips, almost ripping his white blouse in his haste to put his mouth on Dream's bra. On Dream's tits.

"Professor Gadling," Dream moans breathily, not even pretending he doesn't want this. One of his long fishnet-clad legs is already hooked around Hob's waist. Fuck. This flexible little minx. Hob wants to see just how far he could bend Dream in half. "We shouldn't--ah, here--"

"Then where do you want me to fuck you, hmm? In my car in the middle of the parking lot? In the apartment I share with my girlfriend?" Hob bites Dream's throat and soothes the skin with his tongue. "Or maybe you want me to fuck you raw in your dorm room. Do you have roommates, baby? Do you want them to watch?"

Dream squirms in his arms, panting, trying to dissuade Hob from stripping him naked. He looks absolutely delectable, and Hob is intent on finally untying that damn red ribbon from his neck and marking him up with his teeth. "I..." Dream licks his lips and runs delicate fingers against Hob's stubble. "My family has a cabin. It's about an hour's drive away. We could--"

"You want me to drive us to your family's fancy cabin for a fuck?" Hob asks and grinds his erection against Dream's, watching in rapt attention how he keens and throws his head back against the door in pleasure. "When I can just take you right here against the door?"

Dream shakes his head. He's blushing so prettily, suddenly so shy, that Hob leans forward and gives him another filthy kiss.

"Professor!" Dream protests, and actually pushes him back a little. Not enough to dislodge Hob's body against his, but enough so they could talk face to face. "I was thinking...maybe...for the whole weekend?"

Oh, fuck.

"You want me to fuck you for an entire weekend?" An eager nod. "In your family's cabin?" Another eager nod, and a hopeful, chaste kiss to his chin. Dream is so fucking sweet and sexy at the same time that Hob doesn't know what to do with him. "Baby, I don't think I can drive like this." He grinds his cock against Dream again, and Dream responds this time by reaching between them and fondling Hob through his slacks.

"It's okay, Professor," Dream says, smiling impishly. "I'll take the edge off for you."

--

Despite Dream torturing Hob with his slutty outfits for what feels like several months already, Dream proves that he can be a very good boy when he wants to.

"You should call your girlfriend, sir," he says, lips slick and red and tempting, Hob's cockhead resting against his lower lip. Hob has already cum in his mouth once, and true to Dream's word, it has taken the edge off. Hob could think more clearly now. "So she wouldn't worry. Tell her you have a conference or something."

Hob chuckles and smears his cum across Dream's lips more. "How considerate of you to think about my girlfriend worrying about me when I'll be spending the entire weekend fucking you."

Dream pouts, not even saying anything in reply to that, and Hob immediately caves.

--

Hob calls Eleanor to tell her about a sudden teacher's conference being held this weekend while Dream warms his cock.

He mouths 'good boy,' to Dream, who blinks coquettishly up at him, but part of Hob thinks he's the good boy in this scenario, just doing what Dream wants him to do.

He doesn't get to say 'I love you,' to Eleanor because when he was about to, Dream sucks him so good that he had to hang up and muffle his groan against his fist.

--

Halfway through the drive, Dream makes Hob stop the car so he could suck his cock again.

Barely a couple of miles after that, Hob stops the car so he could fuck Dream's thighs in the backseat.

--

Once in the cabin, they barely make it to the bed, but make it they do. Hob wants Dream to be comfortable when he takes Hob's cock in his ass. Hob knows he's much larger than average, and he would hate to see Dream in pain.

He's not a total monster. Sure, he may lie to his girlfriend so he could fuck his student's brother for an entire weekend, but he's not going to treat said student's brother badly. He's better than that.

Hob eats Dream out twice before he even enters him, sucks on his nipples until they're red and swollen as they fuck, and finally gets to mark Dream's neck with his teeth.

He fucks Dream's hole until he's gaping and leaking cum because he's unable to clench his hole closed enough to stop the flow. Hob teases him that they should perhaps switch to a larger plug to accommodate his loose pussy, but does no such thing. He likes it when Dream has to concentrate and keep clenching his ass in between rounds so he could keep the plug in place.

All the while Dream begs for more of him. For everything.

And Hob gives it to him.

--

They fuck the entire weekend. On the bed, in the bathroom, against the walls, Dream bent over various furniture, on the rug in front of the fireplace, against the kitchen counters, outside on the front porch, on the hood of Hob's car...

Hob is surprised at himself. He's not that young anymore, but give him one Dream Endless and he feels like he's at the peak of his youth again.

Hob tells himself it's only his desperation making him vigorous. He's only going to get Dream this weekend, and after that, who knows? When Delirium comes back, would Dream still feel the need to sit in on Hob's class, or is this it? Is Dream going to move on to seducing someone else?

No.

Every time Hob thinks that, Dream seducing someone else, another professor, another man, he pushes himself and fucks the boy harder.

Unacceptable. Hob is going to ruin him for everyone else, just like how Dream has been set on ruining him from day one.

--

Dream sometimes says, 'I love you,' to Hob when he's getting fucked so good that his eyes roll up to the back of his skull, but Hob thinks it's just something Dream says without knowing he's saying it. Many people say things during sex that they don't mean.

But when Dream says, "Mine," right after the two of them collapsed in bed after yet another round of fucking, Hob says, "All yours this weekend, yeah."

And Dream says, "Well see."

--

It's Sunday night and Hob is supposed to drive them both back to civilization. Dream has insisted upon dinner before leaving, though, and Hob is loathe to reject him because Dream has been working hard, cooking throughout the day in between their rounds, and Hob knows he's going to miss this.

(Dream has banned him from the kitchen as he cooks. Hob thinks he's adorable but follows his instruction anyway.)

He feels something warm in his heart as he sees the spread of food that Dream has been preparing. Roasted lamb, venison pasties, fruit tarts--all of them Hob's favorite.

('How did he know?' a tiny voice in Hob's mind asks, but is quickly ignored in favor of taking in Dream's shy smile.)

"Did you cook all this from scratch?" Hob asks, awed. Eleanor doesn't cook. It's either Hob cooks for them both or they order in. He doesn't feel bitter about it. It's just the way they are.

"Yes," Dream says simply. "I want to be able to cook well for you."

Oh. Oh. An uncomfortable feeling rises in Hob's stomach.

Dream loves him.

Actually wants to date him.

This is a very bad idea.

"Dream..."

Dream ignores the tone of Hob's voice and sits on one side of the table. Hob belatedly realizes that, although there is a lot of food on the table, the table itself is small enough to be intimate. Like the two of them are on a date. "Let's eat."

--

"Dream," Hob says in-between bites of the really excellent pasties. "You know I have a girlfriend."

"I do," Dream says. "I even asked you to call her, didn't I?"

"And you know that I love her."

A pause. "Sure."

"So this, between us-- You know it can never happen again, right?" Like Hob isn't the one dead set on ruining Dream for any future lover.

Dream shrugs and sips his wine. He has barely eaten, but Hob saw him tasting the food earlier, so he figures Dream made all of this for him, and is just enjoying seeing Hob eat. Hob is the same sometimes, so he cannot fault Dream for having the same habit. "If you say so."

--

Hob wakes due to the early morning sunlight hitting his face directly.

He's confused for a second, because his bedroom in the apartment isn't facing east, before the events of last night came rushing back to him.

The delicious dinner. Dream drinking wine. Feeling increasingly dizzy. Dream rushing towards him so he wouldn't fall to the floor. Passing out with Dream telling him everything's going to be alright.

Hob thought it was strange that Dream wasn't panicking or rushing to grab his phone to call the hospital.

And now, Hob is tied to the bed, naked, arms and legs bound to the bed posts with silk ropes. Gagged. He tries tugging on the ropes to no avail. Whoever tied him up knew what they were doing.

He is alone in the room, but not for long.

Dream enters a few minutes later, probably alerted by the sounds Hob had been making in his bid to escape his bonds, wearing only a short fluffy bathrobe. He's holding Hob's phone in his hands

'Dream!' Hob tries to say. It comes out muffled through the gag.

"Good morning, Professor," Dream says, smiling. He leans over and kisses him on the cheek. "Will you be good for me today?"

'What the fuck are you playing at! Let go of me!'

"That doesn't sound like a 'yes,'" Dream remarks. "Maybe you need a little incentive to cooperate?"

Dream climbs on the bed then, sitting his naked and already lubed-up ass against Hob's member, which did not get the memo and is currently growing thicker despite the predicament Hob is in.

Dream flips over Hob's phone to show him the screen, and Hob sees his 'incentive' to be good.

It's a picture of Dream, curled up naked in his arms, asleep. One of Hob's arms is looped around his body in a possessive hold, and the other is holding the phone up for a selfie. Hob's face isn't shown, but his students would know his chin and neck and hair. Eleanor would know his chest and arms.

Hob's blood runs cold. It was an impossible shot that wouldn't be possible if it's only him and Dream in the cabin, so there must another person who helped Dream carry Hob, arranged the two of them in bed, and took the photo while propping up Hob's arm to make it look like Hob is the one taking it.

Hob remembers the large, muscled, red-haired man he saw once or twice in campus with Dream. At first, he thought it was Dream's boyfriend, but finds out from overhearing a couple of students that the man is one of Dream's brothers. Hob isn't sure who the older brother is between the two.

Dream sits patiently on top of him as he's having these realizations. "Should I send this to your girlfriend, Professor?" he asks, when he sees Hob's eyes focus on him once more. "Or are you going to be good for me?"

Hob nods decisively. He'll say he's gonna be good. But the moment he gets free, he'll grab his phone from Dream, delete the picture--

Dream smiles and grinds down on him a little. His cock twitches and oozes out precome, which Dream scoops up from Hob's lower stomach and licks from his fingers, humming in delight at the taste. "My brother is nearby," he says, pleasant as anything. "If he sees you harming me, you're not even going to make it back to your car. And before you ask, we have already siphoned the gas, and removed the car battery."

Hob feels tears pricking his eyes. What the fuck...who the fuck are these people?

"Do you understand now, Professor?" Dream asks. "I said you're mine. And I'm not in the habit of lying. Or sharing, come to think of it."

Hob nods, timidly this time. How the fuck has this gone so wrong? Was there even a warning sign that Hob should have noticed before it came to this?

Dream smiles and kisses him chastely on the chin. "Good. Now, Professor, I want you to be very, very well-behaved for me..."

--

"Professor Gadling!" Dream squeals, thighs opened wide and shaking, his breath stuttering as Hob fucks him hard from behind. "O-oh gods, please, your cock feels so good!"

"You like this, Dream?" Hob says against his ear, enjoying, despite everything, this sick sadistic play. All he has to do is play along, and he's going to be fine. Everything will go back to normal. He's going to go back to his job, to his girlfriend, and put all this behind him. Maybe he'll request a transfer next semester. Somewhere as far as they could send him. "You like me splitting you open like a whore?"

Dream nods frantically and lets out a high pitched whine. "Y-yes, sir. I love...I love being filled with your cum. I love sitting on your cock all day." He gasps as Hob starts stroking his cock in time with his thrusts. "Professor, please..!"

"Please what, darling? What do you want? Tell me." The endearment slips out of him accidentally, and he feels Dream squeeze him thrice in quick succession as a reward. He curses and pounds him harder. "So fucking tight. Best damn cunt I ever put my cock in."

That line wasn't part of the script.

Dream moans at that unexpected treat and turns his head to the side, begging for a kiss. Hob grants it to him. He fucks Dream's mouth with his tongue and uses his free hand to cup one of Dream's tits. A perfect fucking handful. He twists the nipple and imagines milk squirting out of it. Imagines Dream's milk-heavy tits leaking in class, his eyes filled with tears because he can't wait for the hour to be over so Hob could nurse from him right on his desk. Imagines Dream pushing him down on the desk so he can ride him after Hob drinks his fill. Imagines him pushing aside his lacy panties and holding his skirt up as Hob fucks up into him, giving him his daily dose of cum.

"Gonna breed you, baby," Hob says. People say things they don't mean during sex. It's perfectly normal. "Not gonna let you out of this damn bed until you're round with my cum, and then I'm gonna marry you so you can be my slut forever."

Dream shrieks and cums at his words, and as Hob continues railing him to overstimulation, he gasps out, "Yes, yes, please sir--want you to marry me--I'm yours, just yours--ah--"

Hob pushes in deep and cums inside again, moaning Dream's name out loud, then peppers his sweet boy's tear-streaked face and pale neck with fervent little kisses.

Maybe he's just as fucked up as Dream is, and maybe he always has been.

--

There is a red light blinking in the corner of the room, recording.

Only one of the room's current occupants know that it's there.

--

To: Eleanor

I'm with someone else now, and he's better than you ever were. I love him and we just got married. I'll send someone to get my things.

--

Hob sends that message himself, but he sends a different photo than the one Dream threatened to send. It's of Dream wearing all white lingerie. Bralette, lacy panties, garter belt, stockings--the entire thing, but he's also wearing a beautiful wedding veil, and he's holding a bouquet of white roses. He's kneeling in bed and is splattered with Hob's cum from forehead to groin, looking incandescently happy, smiling up at the camera with eyes full of love.

Hob turns off his phone and throws it to the side, intending on going back to bed to ruin his baby boy even more.

Dream welcomes him with open arms, smile shy but looking so goddamn happy.

"You're all mine now, aren't you, baby?" Hob asks, pushing his husband back on the bed and spreading his legs so Hob could see the mess he made earlier. He grips one cheek and watches as a dollop of cum oozes out of Dream's hole and onto the bedsheets.

Dream leans up and kisses him, winding his long stockinged legs around Hob's waist and welcoming Hob's cock back into his fucked out hole once more. They are surrounded by white rose petals from the bouquet. Dream must have plucked and scattered them throughout their marriage bed while Hob was sending his last message to Eleanor. Always so fucking romantic. Hob can't wait to reward Dream for being so good to him.

"All yours forever, Professor Gadling."

[lexxthekapibara]

Me and my brother started to go home when we heard something. They were Jimmy and Lizzie Scott's friends. I forgot they live on the same street as us. Which is another example of me being a genius because Jimmy is my brother's best friend and Lizzie is his sister. Jimmy hangs out non-stop with my brother. "Hey Scott hey Xornoth!". "Lizzy! Jimmy!" my brother screamed. "Scott don't fucking shout in the middle of the street". "Sorry Xornoth" "Would you like to go home together" Lizzie asked. "Do we have a choice" I asked her even though I somehow already knew the answer. She responded with the obvious answer which was "no. you have no choice.". Well, I predicted that. What I didn't foresee. In fact, that didn't even cross my mind. Did that guy from the cafeteria who got water spilled on his head walk past us and go the way we used to go. Weird. I have never seen him on our street or anywhere near. Now that I've seen it up close, I see what Milo meant. He looked really good. He had dirty blond hair and beautiful green eyes with golden flecks that seemed to shine under the sun as he walked. He wore gold earrings with a turquoise star. He had a green long sleeve shirt with white lines and over that he wore a red short sleeve crop top he also had baggy jeans and red Converse. i think he wore some eyeshadow and blush along with some lip gloss. However, something that caught my eye was his scar. After looking at him for a while I realized that my brother and his friends had left without me. It's not like I minded. They are boring. Well. I should leav.//at home//"Xornoth you are back! I was already starting to worry you were lost!" was the first thing I heard when I opened the door to the house and one of my mothers practically jumped on me and hugged me. "Where have you been" mom asked me. "Oh. Erm. I saw a friend and we talked a little" I lied. I was actually looking at that handsome guy from the cafeteria until he turned into our street. "You made friends? On the first day?" my other mom asked me excitedly. "Well, not really friends. Just a friend who sits with me in maths," I answered. "What is his name?" "His name is Milo," I answered throwing my jacket on the hanger. I took my lunch that was on the kitchen table and took it to my room. Not much later, the first mom called me to come downstairs. When I went downstairs, what I think was our neighbor was standing by the door. She was tall. Very tall. She had brown hair and eyes and wore a long dark blue skirt and a white blouse. in her hands she was carrying a basket full of flowers and what looked like two jars of jam. next to her was a slightly shorter person who I think was either her wife or fiancee by the appearance of the wedding rings they both wore. She had very long black hair and blue eyes. She was wearing a light blue dress that came just below her knees. Soon my brother also came. "Hello, we're your neighbors. We heard that someone moved here a month ago. We're sorry we didn't come then, we're just mostly not here for summer vacation. We brought you a basket of flowers and some homemade jam." The shorter lady said. The one who was taller gave my other mother the basket she was holding in her hands and just smiled. "Thank you, the flowers are beautiful. And don't worry about the fact that you didn't come earlier, as you said you weren't there. If you don't mind me to ask you if she can't talk or something like that since she is silent all the time." my mother thanked and asked. "Oh, I don't mind you asking. She can talk, she's just a little shy. Sometimes she acts like a child. She just needs a little time to get used to someone new. And she's quite quiet anyway." answered the shorter lady. "Xornoth, Scott say hello to your neighbors." my first mom said. "hello" said me and my brother. "How cute they are. We have kids too. I think one is the same age as your turquoise haired son. His name is Joey. Maybe they could meet." The tall lady spoke. "That would be beautiful," my brother said. "You could get to know each other "