#This is a passing grade and I don't want to not put her name. So yeah gimme a few hours and I'll be back !!

[another-clive-blog]

Hard difficulty mode : Playing Unwound Future without crying

Expert difficulty mode : Finding a blue hat that's NOT jeans for your Clive cosplay

[svndaysaweek]

Overture (Prequel to Enlightenment) — {Feat. Karina}

8.7k words

A/N: You don’t know how old this draft is… I still remember that anon who sent a few asks about this series, and I really hope that they read this! This one is the longest I’ve ever written. Might not be the best piece, but I’m so proud of myself that I did my best. Thank you @dnd-writes for editing and giving me awesome advices. Enjoy!

*Prequel to “Enlightenment”

******

“Doesn’t matter how the two met. It’s about how they’re together ‘til now.”

******

It’s the first day in your new high school. It’s already March but the breeze is yet to blow winter away, strongly acclaiming its presence with the icy wind you face as soon as you come out of the main building of your school to go to the cafeteria. You haven’t made any friends to have lunch with yet, so you change your mind to just head to the smoking spot–behind the auditorium which is already an alien building itself–and kill some time smoking. You turn your way to the smoking spot inside the huge tide of students heading to the cafeteria. Freezing air makes you pace up to the spot.

After passing a few corners where even the wind has been disturbed to travel through, you find a drum can with fire in it making a peaceful crackling sound.

And a girl standing right by it as if wanting to get burnt. “Are you the new one?” Her voice is sharp enough to make it sound wary, yet quite chirpy to end up hitting you as rather coquettish.

“I don’t… I don't really know you,” Your steps towards her contradict your words. “Me neither.” At the fire you light your own cigarette. Your eyes scan her body from the ground to meet hers doing the same to you. The yellow name tag catches your eyes. Her name is Yu Jimin, third grade. And where the name tag is what makes your attention gather up too–perfect size, matches her wavy figure and sassy face, calmly heaves when she’s inhaling in the smoke.

“My name’s not that hard to read,” That’s when you realize that Yu Jimin, this unusual girl, will be an attraction with challenges. It’s all in her grin, in her turbid eyes that never leave yours–to be honest, it’s yours that never leaves hers; they won’t let the leash on your eyes loosen, until she wants to.

You suck it in, and breathe out a mouthful of smoke in the cold air. You look at her again and she's been watching you thoroughly, from head to toe, examining your body, shape, façade and all things she finds nice to look at, regardless of you mirroring her like once isn’t really enough.

She’s got such a nice, sculpted body, hidden under the school uniform but even more premo like that; concave and convex, it just hugs her curves impeccably. Narrow waist and wide, tight hips causing the skirt to struggle not to be torn apart. What’s more is her face, at the height of your chest, looking almost unrealistic, inhumanly beautiful, especially with a shallow grin like right now.

You are automatically making steps toward Jimin and she’s not backing up. You turn your head right to let out the smoke and then return to the ongoing gaze between you two.

“Don’t I look cold?” Jimin steps backwards, from the fire and from you. It makes you just automatically look at her legs, so slick and teem with femininity. You keep following what she tells you to do, what the hormones tell you to do.

“What do you want me to say?” It should be delivered as a counterattack to the dominance Jimin has shown you, but it, unfortunately, ends up sounding as if you were really confused. And Jimin almost bursts into laughter which she manages to hold in.

“So, third grade? What class are you in?”

“Two. You?” You drop the used cigarette and step on it to put it out. “Four. I’ll drop by sometime, handsome.”

Then she leaves the spot just like that. You are so interested in the girl Yoo Jimin. Given that she’s pretty like that, smokes around, she’s nothing like the normal students, obviously. And you can tell Jimin also found you special. Yeah, you know people don’t get to see a man like you quite often. You also know you don’t get to see a girl so appetizing like her often. It’s third year in highschool. You’re no amateur to let a girl play you around, rather, you’ve learned to control those feisty, hungry girls, but ugh, to be honest you don’t know what’s going on. 

******

She never comes to see you until the end of school. Nor do you, because you thought you could wait–precisely, you thought you had to wait. You definitely want to take the upper hand in this new relationship so you just head home, yet with a bit of disappointment. But you don’t let anyone know. Maybe she’s just playing you out. That’s unacceptable for you. You calmly wait for the bus deep in thought. Maybe find someone else tomorrow. I don’t know.

“Hey, going somewhere?”

Fuck. It’s her. Jimin.

You think of complaining, but swallow it back and answer. “Home. You?” Jimin shrugs with nonchalance. “I don’t know. Your place, maybe? Do you live alone?” She lunges in suddenly, and you could just let her be as spunky as she can be. “I do. Why do you want to know that?” You throw a question, feigning calmness, and Jimin just smirks back.

“Don’t ask me.”

You’re on the bus. You let Jimin take the window side and sit next to her. You stuff your ears with some random songs and lock your eyes to the screen in your palm to leave the absorbing girl next to you out of your world even for a second.

“What made you move to my school?” Suddenly one of your earphones is between her fingers, your arm in hers to squish her breast slightly which feels so intentional. This bold little chick keeps surprising you in unforeseeable ways. Besides, you can read that she’s definitely testing you. Seems a little bit like an upside-down situation, for you to be the object, and oh, don’t you say you don’t find this rather fun.

“Well, there was an accident. You don’t need to know any further.” Her questions don’t seem to end, however. An eye roll might silence her—

“You can tell me. It’s alri-“

“You’d better shut the fuck up, Jimin.” Your fingers hold her chin up, facing you, merely a breath away as your noses tickle each other. And what gets you a moment later is her eyes, round and glowy, that could easily see through your brain, trying to suffocate you in the vivid yet gooey gaze. And there she plants her words straight into your brain; I’m a little impressed, but try harder. 

A sudden squeak of the brake informs you to get off. You step out of the bus and Jimin quietly follows. Then you start walking at a rather slow pace. The sound of another pair of footsteps is the only clue of her existence for you.

“You made me wait.” You break the silence as you near your house. You don’t bother turning back to be an audience for her commanding attitude, but her cockiness nonetheless makes it to your ears.

“Well, I might have just forgotten. My bad.” You unlock the door, let Jimin in and close it. Right after the thud you pin her arms over her head with one hand, eliciting a sharp yelp from her.

“You made me fucking wait, Jimin. You’ll have to pay for it.” Your face is just a few inches from hers again. Your straining voice is mixed with her breath, hot, and your burning gaze never leaves hers, to return the blow that she had on your mind; you don’t know me yet.

“You should feel lucky.”

“Why?”

“I’m interested in you.” Jimin’s words, however, don’t sound tense or weak despite your visible dominance. Rather, it’s an impudent confidence that defies the dynamic knotted between your eyes. Jimin herself visualizes it with an even wider smile, dense with deliberate harm to your ego.

“Mmm…!” You dive into Jimin’s lips while your other hand suddenly wraps around her neck hard. Keeping the chokehold still, your hand once holding her wrists tears her school shirt open, letting the buttons randomly fly to the floor. With her hands free, they dangle on your arms. Her demure hand tries to push you back from her neck, but her tongue is flapping inside your mouth, already allured by the intenseness. Your other hand hesitates about before swiftly undoing her bra and Jimin drops it on the floor. You squeeze the godly pair of flesh and soon pull back from the kiss.

“Shit, you like it rough, huh?” Jimin giggles, with a killing lip bite, and discards her buttonless shirt. There you feel something kick your heart, to see a girl enjoying your selfishness and harshness for the first time. A thought that this girl might be the one for you passes through your mind like a hit-and-run truck.

You turn yourselves around and make Jimin walk backwards to your bedroom with your guide. Jimin doesn't wait to unbutton your shirt on your way, and the corners of her lips soon get pulled down by the lust exponentially charging up. You try to look calm but you’re no different–can’t help it in front of this amazing figure of Jimin, skin-to-skin just for you.

Entering the bedroom you push Jimin onto the bed. Her under lip experiences another intense bite as you lay her down and climb over her body, face to face just like a few minutes ago. With one hand supporting your weight, you take the other to her irresistible breasts and fondle them. Jimin hooks her arms and magnetizes your lips to hers for a delirious lip lock once again. Your hand slides down her torso to the button of her uniform skirt and undoes it then takes it off of her fatal legs and throws it to the floor.

“Next time you won’t wear these, okay?” It’s a demand but also a command, with your fingers on the wet spot on her panties. Her hands find themselves wandering on your toned chest, much in admiration. She nods quickly and unbuckles your pants.

“Needy,” Her hastiness makes you grin, and your words only make Jimin’s excitement grow.

“Yes. I am.” This is what makes you wanna accept the challenge; she’s talking things like that all too fresh, like you have to feel thankful for it. You take your pants off with your underwear to be fully naked. You help Jimin get rid of the annoying cloth being dampened by her pussy off her legs and throw it to the pile of clothes on the floor. With the anticipation for the next step Jimin’s breath paces up, running thin like her patience.

“You’re fucking big…” Jimin marvels at the way your cock tickles her belly button and her tummy. You slap her bare stomach a few times with your cock, spit on it and spread the slickness across with slow strokes.

“I said you’ll have to pay for it, Jimin,” You rub your cock on her wetness, gaining more lubrication, and slap your cock on her folds to see her reaction.

“Ah, please make me…Make me-OH FUCK…!” You push into the hilt with a swift thrust. The tightness draws a groan straight from your throat, and your right hand rises to her neck and chokes her hard again.

“You tell me who’s lucky. You think it’s still me?” Straight to the point that has been bothering you ever since it was spoken. You love to make things clear—dirty—who’s the one to stand and who’s the one to kneel. And if she ever intended to get under your skin, well, she pushed the wrong button.

Jimin’s eyes slam shut, unlike her agape mouth through which you can see her tongue has lost its way, dragged here and there by the hand of her senses, overthrown by what you’re doing. You keep thrusting in and out at such a pace, every time making sure your balls hit her ass, filling her tight hole up ecstatically with no vacancy.

“Hah, god…! It’s me, I’m the lucky one! I’m so fucking lucky to have your big cock inside me!”

“Good. See, your act doesn’t last a day.”

Her lips tremble, as if about to cry, as if all the fucking around was just a pretense and she actually has to be under you. She bites the lower one but can’t hold the shiver down. 

You move your hand from Jimin’s neck to her face, grabbing her cheeks in one grip. You bring her face close to yours, both shaking to the orgasmic rhythm but never losing eye contact. Then you slap her cheeks, out of nowhere, just enough for the sound to be pleasurable but not too painful. Jimin starts to drool when you do that several times more, with loud, long moans gradually turning into screams.

“Oh, fuck, yes…! FUCK YES…!” Done with the hitting, you push in your fingers to Jimin’s unsilent mouth to get a better hold of her body. A teardrop leaves her glossy eyes and rolls down to where her ear is. A perfect mixture of pain and pleasure, both of which makes you two forget about tomorrow.

“I’m cumming, Jesus! I-I… Fucking cummi-“ Jimin’s back viciously arches so upward that you almost slip out. Her arms don’t seem to settle for a while before they dig into your back to work as anchors, her body vulnerable in the midst of a destructive swirl of pleasure. But that’s none of your concern as you make the haze in her head threaten her consciousness.

“Fuck, you’re perfect.” You wait for Jimin to come down but that’s so silly of you to do so; your ravageous ramming cock never lets her. All of a sudden you pull out, causing Jimin to shake immensely, and flip her on all fours. Her sex is glistening and the other hole is too, both of them slick with her juices and constricting irregularly.

When Jimin feels your cock rub on her pussy she collapses onto the mattress, only her ass up and her face down, exhausted on the bed, faced to the right. But whenever your cock teases her other hole Jimin shudders, toes curl and her fists try to tear your sheets at the sensation of her asshole getting stimulated.

“Agh, fuck…” You don’t warn Jimin when you insert the head of your cock inside her tight ass. This time even you can’t handle the pleasure of its tremendous tightness as you shut your eyes and groan loudly.

“Holy fuck, Jimin, this is so tight,” You tell her when you’re halfway in. Her body stays still, but her hands ball up and her toes curl until they all become pale. Every inch deeper inside her ass is the moment for you to admire the transcendental tightness you’ve never experienced from those other girls you have been through. Maybe you’re lucky too, to have found this perfect body with nothing to lament on.

“Oh, please, that’s deep! Fuck my ass deep just like-oh my fucking god!” Your reaction is quick—it’s more of a reflection though—doing more than what Jimin asked even before she finishes her words, beginning the mindless assfuck with such a carefree pace. You bring her powerless head up with your hand wrapped around her neck, tight, choking her again. The tighter you grip, the tighter her ass gets. You catch a glimpse of the crooked corner of her lips, which only fuels your inner engines to work even harder.

It’s just your thing; when you see a smile, you have to break it. You destroy it, and you sincerely cherish it when it’s gone.

As you reach your maximum speed Jimin’s distorted smile subsides and an even more euphoric look spreads. Mouth open wide, drooling down her chin and onto your hand on her throat, eyes open but white. As if she muted herself, Jimin doesn’t even breathe—not only because of your grip, but also the orgasm building up as fast as how you ram her ass. You grin at the sight of Jimin drowning in the sensations her own nerves convey; you create. It kills you how small her body is, when you can witness a simple—yet ruthless—piston to her crotch can dye her whole skin red, travel electrically to everywhere in no time, shrinking every minimal muscle. You release her, she falls down limp on the bed and screams at the anal orgasm hitting her, threatening her consciousness.

“Ahh! Fuck, fuck…!” You’re nowhere far from your own end, either. Your breath shallows down at the crazy tightness of Jimin’s orgasming ass. 

“Jimin, I’m cumming…!” You do. You reach as deep inside her anal cavern as you can and unload your cum, mind blowing pleasure coursing through every corner of your body. You shoot, and shoot, and shoot. Jimin clenches her hole for your cum to be deposited inside her with a lazy hum, in harmony with your groan seeping out of your gritted teeth.

It takes a few minutes for your breaths to find the normal speed. “No one’s fucked my ass this amazing,”

It surely was enough to bring amazement, undoubtedly the best you’ve had so far. You sit up and rearrange her hair for her.

“Did I pay for it?“ Jimin’s already got that bright smile back, and after such an extreme sex your barriers collapse in front of her, as you smile back at her.

“Very much.”

“Can you get my phone? It’s in my skirt.” You head to the pile of discarded clothes and do it for Jimin, who’s sitting on the bed with her head resting on the headboard. You toss it on the bed.

Jimin looks into her phone right away, scrolls down mindlessly and looks at you, who’s naked and standing next to the bed.

“Take a shower first, baby.”

Baby, she said.

Your eyes dart to hers immediately. Your face stays placid but you know Jimin knows you’re not at all used to it. You never really allow any strings attached with the ones you fuck; it’s a rather body-to-body entanglement than something emotional. But you’re surprised at how that word fits comfortably between you two. There’s something different. You look back at Jimin but her attention is taken by her phone already, again like a hit-and-run truck, but not completely as you can see her smirk the way you love. So you just enter the bathroom. 

In the shower you review the past 30 minutes—you had sex with the girl Yoo Jimin: nothing special. But not just that; Jimin has by far the best body of all the other girls you’ve experienced. You can tell you really enjoyed it today. You can tell she’s worthy of continuing the relationship. You like the way Jimin turns from a bubbly, sassy girl in school to a begging, screaming mess in bed under you. And the way she calls you baby—it dulls all your edges like a cup of boiling water would do to an ice cube. Just like the hot water pouring on your head.

You come out of the shower and see Jimin smoking on your bed, sitting on the edge with her legs crossed, elbow on her thigh, still aesthetically naked. She looks gorgeous like that. You walk to her, take the cigarette from her hand to your mouth. Then push her down on the bed, breathe the smoke in deep and throw the shortened cigarette away to the bin next to bed, breathe out, and share a smoky kiss.

A few moments later your rod pokes at her belly and Jimin parts away with a giggle.

“Fuck, I really have to clean my body.” You bring her off the bed with you. “Shut up and get down here,” With a smirk she does, and as soon as she adjusts her legs and position you shove your cock in her mouth. A gag earned.

But after that Jimin takes your big cock pretty well, without gagging or looking uncomfortable, even when her nose crashes on your crotch; you’ve found yourself a perfect girl, indeed.

“Nice.” Her teary eyes never leave yours throughout the session as you pace up for a brief finish. Adjusting to the speed of your cock moving entirely in and out, Jimin’s hands go up to the back of your thighs for firmer grip.

Jimin’s drool tickles down your balls and forms a small puddle on the floor. With the filthiest slurping sound Jimin bobs her head at the beat of your cock sliding through. Whenever her delicate tongue presses onto the underside of your cock you throb inside her mouth, making her head slightly move simultaneously.

Jimin’s tears meet the drool on her chin, and with a sound of her voice from her throat Jimin taps your thighs for you to pull out. You take your cock out of her mouth and slap it on her fucked face a few times, painting her face with her own saliva, to her liking.

“Finish it.”

Put the shower aside, and you shower Jimin with your lust deep into her throat. You feel your legs not far from giving in, but thankfully your cock is just the same, due to what Jimin is doing under you.

“Jimin, I’m-I’m close.”

Jimin starts to fondle your balls and that certainly helps you cross the line. In no time you fill her throat up white, and the room with your satisfied groan.

You look straight into Jimin’s eyes when you cum, and it’s astonishingly reciprocated when she gulps down your load quickly, professionally. As soon as you are done pouring into Jimin she stands up, showing you her clean tongue with a tilt of her head, and heads to the bathroom. You, left alone, giggle quietly and sprawl on the bed after putting on underwear. 

******

“Text me at lunch break. You know where to meet me.” You just nod at Jimin, who’s in one of your T-shirts that is just a little bit big for her; loss of all the buttons on her uniform comes at a cost. An inner beam blooms under your face when you find her just too perfect in that outfit of school skirt with your T-shirt tucked under it. Those unhidden bra lines count as one of many reasons for you to stare at her, take her in your arms right now and-

“Not now, perv.” Her smirk lets yours surface up to reciprocate hers. You stand up from the bed, approach her and walk her backwards to the wall. Jimin has been playful and relaxed with you and you like it. But when you—just like right now—detect submission in her eyes: you love it. You don’t stop your hand from rising up for her neck and have a good grip around it. You don’t stop the other from being pulled away to her gracious tits and squeezing them.

“Not now?” And there are those big eyes begging for you to go further, that bitten lower lip asking for any contact, as if the one who just quipped ‘not now’ choked out. Always hits you differently when she just switches from a brat to a subby mess out of control.

Contradiction is the most normal of things when you have a tight grip over Jimin. Her reddening face gradually forms a thin smirk when your lips close in to hers. Her eyes close, lips part for a mind-numbing kiss—

“Not now.” You make a sudden pull back and release Jimin from your grip. She stumbles and almost collapses on the floor so you hold her in your arms. For the same purpose and then some, her arms rest on your shoulders and pull you in, only to be denied by your hand pushing her chest off of you, leaving Jimin just keeping a hungry gaze at your lips and whimpering “Please.”

You finish tying the necktie, bring your thumb up to her lips. As it sweeps over them Jimin lets her tongue coat your thumb with her saliva which could’ve blended perfectly with yours.

“To the spot at lunch break, Jimin. And ah,” You stand down and pull her panties down in one sway and she helps herself out of them by lifting her legs respectively. You toss it on the bed and rise up again, for your collarbone to match her height, for her to look up at you again.

“You don’t wear the same panties for two days straight, do you?” Jimin just nods quickly and tries to crush her lips on yours yet again. Seems like she wouldn’t care even if you made her go to school all nude, if she could just mix her tongue with yours right now. Her efforts to make you kiss her is visible to you; eyes so seductive yet not able to take themselves off of their foremost target, lips slightly open for her tongue to peek outside. Seeing that you just step back and prepare to leave for school with an unseen smirk.

“Let’s go.”

******

As anticipated, needy and untidy Yoo Jimin sends you a dozen pictures of her bare crotch under her skirt, saying ‘Want your fingers inside’, ‘Can’t wait for the lunch break.’ Those are to be left on read.

Morning classes fly by as the bell rings to announce the lunch break. The class rushes out for lunch, has a race among them with some of them even running like they have something to win. And amongst that crowd you head to the spot, to Yoo Jimin.

She’s there already waiting for you when you turn the last corner. Legs crossed, back on the brick wall and a half-spent cigarette between her lips, looking so delinquent there with that insanely short skirt and in the shirt you gave. She notices you, has a reet smile on her and throws the cigarette on the ground, and watches you approach her standing still. No immaterial words or acts are needed when you can just kiss those lips like they’re yours. The remnant of the cigarette a fume that makes you dive deeper into this trance her tongue and yours are building, you spontaneously get rid of her skirt and are met with the wet skin under it.

Your fingers taste her crotch, slowly rubbing around and poised for any further indulgence. Her hands are, on the other hand, hectic with your buttons and when they’re done they swiftly go down to your belt. Your pants drop to your ankles in no time with your underwear, and with your erect cock emancipated, Jimin detaches from the kiss and spits on your cock and spreads it.

It all happens so fast that you are still enraptured by the kiss and her tits in your palms, leaving so many treats unfelt to your body. The next second you are inside her, making it even headier for you to follow up.

“Fuck, I needed this.” Jimin grits. With no clue of downshifting she takes the shirt off, her bra to follow suit, and hooks her arms around your neck to stand the frantic sex she wants from you. And that happens right away, as your instinct drops the hammer for you to automatically thrust into her even before you find yourself moaning at the sensation of her inside.

You keep your eyes closed while wrecking her pussy despite the eye candy that is Yoo Jimin during sex, and suddenly you notice her teeth on your shoulder. It’s a pain that can make you grin, that can make you savor the feeling, even it gets even stronger, because now you know that when she bites, she cums. Her legs give in, and you know it by the weight of her arms around your neck. Her walls clench harshly and there’s a stream of her juice down your legs when she cums. Yoo Jimin is so tactile, and when she cums her whole body does, for yours to recognize, you don’t even have to hearken to know it. The auditory input hits your brain the last, the pearly, shaky yelp of the orgasming needy girl adds up to all the stimuli you are taking.

When she comes down you slow down, lazily reaching her cervix as she hums at it every time.

“Kiss me, baby.” You do. It’s saccharine to your tongue. Her tongue distraughtly moves around inside your mouth, some of the drool leaking onto her tits to make it even more impeccable. The gustation mesmerizes you into a rabid sex, this time for yourself to get off. No subduing, only upshifts lead the way as you turn her around, put it back in and lavish thrusts into her sex.

“Shit. Jimin, you’re so fucking perfect.” You’re not saying this again because she might not have heard it; you are repeating it like a low-functioning machine because you’re afraid you haven’t said it enough. And she can condone it—of course she can, it’s a compliment anyway—because she knows it already, because the feeling’s mutual. You say it several more times on the back of her neck, almost making it a tattoo, carving it in intaglio. Still deranged, Jimin is just screaming with her back arching to the sky and carotically facing the brick wall with her left cheek. The right side of her face is rosed up, and her eye has a glimpse of you, your wry face and the sweat-coated torso and shuts and she cums just like that. 

Her breaths are shallow, irregular, a gusty fluid squelches out of her pussy and the scene of her orgasm is intimidating your endurance, easily sending you to an orgasmic stupor and making you spurt out inside her with a gritted groan. 

“Jimin, I… God, fuck…!” To your overstimulated cock Jimin has her shrewd tongue on it, sealed with her lips. Makes your legs wobble, unmercifully agitating your mind with frenzy, but just until she clears your shaft up clean from the tabloid juices all over it.

“I loved it. Maybe we should make it daily.” Jimin rises up, with her skirt and your shirt in her hands and still breathing somewhat heavily. And the desecrated smile on her face is the coercion for you to wear one too, a copacetic one. Shirt on, a smoking cigarette between your fingers, you insinuate to her.

“Your panties are still on my bed, you know.” And she’s shrewd with it—has been from the very beginning—and purrs. “Mhmm, I’m going to go fetch it after school with you.”

Of course, is what your nods that follows says, and there’s my girl, says your zest-filled grin, looking at her back that walks out of the corner. It’s always that intrinsic sass you could simply, so simply kill for. Maybe a challenge for you, maybe a finesse for you to be benumbly trapped into. It’s your choice, and from some point on the latter looks dazzling to you; maybe you’re a person who just dyes so well, to a derogated girl who seemed to have taken everything you’ve given but turns out she just put you in the phantasma of her own stardust without you realizing it—you’ve lost it in her, somehow. And that’s bizarre: and you love it.

******

You’re standing at the bus stop, hands in your pocket and looking around to find your girl. When you do, you’re so surprised at how Jimin so stands out among all the crowd while doing nothing but just walk. Even from miles out you’re sure you’ll spot her in a second. The belle of the crowd, wherever she is. She’s not the tallest but still piques herself on her to-die-for aura like she blurs everyone out. As if she sensed the scrutiny, Jimin looks up from her phone, looks around and soon finds you looking at her. You hate to be seen so infatuated like this but you can’t help it, as your eyes meet hers and your face brightens up, half from seeing her and half at yourself caught like that.

“That happy to see me?” You don’t answer, just bring your hands to her crotch and check there’s no underwear blocking your way. A flick over her uncovered pussy earns you a shocked look.

“This is not your bedroom!” Jimin shouts in whisper, but not with caution, but an intrigued grin with eyes darting around the crowd waiting for the bus.

“Are you telling me to stop?” You take your fingers to her mouth, her tongue welcoming the taste of horniness coated all over your fingers. “I’m telling you not to stop.”

So your hand returns to her pussy. You’re rubbing, tapping on and hooking your fingers in, Jimin bites on her own fingers not to relinquish her scream. You hold her trembling body as steady as possible but you know that it’ll be absolutely normal if the people around you realize that you two are having a little fun explicitly in public. Everyone’s looking at you and Jimin in front of you, facing the same way as you and receiving that dirty fingering amongst so many audiences.

In a few minutes the bus is here, to show you only one vacant seat left. You take the seat and Jimin sits on your lap, facing backwards and hugging your neck. You resume the unholy yet entertaining fingering to the pretty moaning girl on your lap.

And you return to who you really are: you’re a gentleman yourself, with etiquette, with common decency, to pull Jimin’s head down on your shoulder to muffle her nasty sound on it. You know even the driver is looking at you through the mirror, but that’s because of her, not you; again, you’re making no noise, and Jimin in your embrace is the culprit of all the squeaky, watery, moaning noise, not you. 

“Quiet, Jimin.” Now her teeth dig into your skin, synchronizing with your fingers indulging into her wet, tight hole. You know what you’re doing won’t shut her up. You’re just saying it, a formality. Inside your mind you want her to moan loudly, at the same time want to see her struggle keeping it quiet. So you yank her hair back to watch her distorted face, observe every tiny wriggle of her expression.

“Ah…!” Look into her eyes as if wanting to pierce through them. Jimin looks at you too, flooding with lust, drowning in her own sensations of sex and embarrassment of being exposed in such a public situation. “I’m almost there.” It’s a plain text but she’s begging there. She says she’s almost there but she’s already there, as it seems.

“Yeah, we’re almost there.” A bump on the road makes your fingers hit her spot, makes her back arc, makes her almost, almost lose it right there. You pull out your fingers from her hot cavern to the relatively cool air of the bus. Her liquid feels fresh out in the air but that feeling is soon lost, by her tongue wrapping them up and sucking it clean—suckling it dirty.

The bus stops right then for only you and Jimin to get off. It’s much quieter than inside the bus, partially due to you not fingerfucking her anymore. In no time you’re at the door of your house, unlock it, swing open and it slams shut. Simultaneously Jimin hops on you and dive into your mouth with hers. You stumble through to your bedroom, toss her on the bed, swiftly undo your belt and pants with your boxers, let your already hard dick spring out but don't let it feel the air as it vanishes into Jimin’s waiting pussy right away.

No one speaks a word. No one can, to be fair. You two are merely inches away from dying, too impatient to wait another second. And there you let Jimin approach death a bit closer by holding her neck around, a perfect necklace for her, and straining your hand. Jimin’s mouth is open, difficulty in breathing so visible, face reddening but there’s still her hunger in it; she grins. Her smile is so cruel, violent, so evil yet joyful, as if she’s the victimizer and you’re the victim.

“Please, baby… Kill me. Fucking choke me to death, please, choke me and kill me-fuck!” You make her scream when you slap her tits, as if you were angry at her, but you’re the opposite—you love her so much that you just want to abuse her, to her liking, just like right now. All her sensations seem to evaporate as her eyes roll back and her hands drop to her sides spiritlessly: or, airlessly. You let her go, not wanting to actually kill her.

With a giant inhale Jimin returns from the border of unconsciousness. Her hands travel from her own tits, your hands, and soon back to the sheets, still wandering in need for anything to release the tension. So you pin down her wrists and pace up your thrusts.

“Fuck, Jimin. Don’t tempt me. You make me really want to fuck you dead.” You’re saying it right on her face, which enables her to feel that you mean it. There she tries to kiss your lips, but you pull back with agility, instead covering her mouth and nose with your palm, again suffocating her to your liking, to your loving, to your abnormal, psychopathic obsession.

“I want to see you struggle for life. I want to see you beg for life. You’ll look so perfect like that.” Jimin screams into your hand, covers it with her saliva and tears. You close in with your other hand groping her tit and your cock hitting everywhere inside her squeezing cunt. Jimin’s eyes widen as her orgasm fades in, muffling “I’m cumming!” Several times on your palm before peaking like never before. Her orgasm never gives her the time to even shut her eyes as they roll into her head. Her scream penetrates your hand over her mouth as it departs on your ears so deliciously.

That’s what psychopaths do, isn’t it? To experience the catharsis washing over your spine and get off with how a person screams, all helpless, with tears, shallow breaths as if soon going to die, or at least pass out. Maybe it’s that she’s making it clear about who you are. Would be a pleasure to embrace it.

And it’s your turn now. You pull out, escaping Jimin’s spent pussy with quite an amount of her squirt, leaving her all trembling and arching. There’s a layer of sweat all over her body and it makes it look like a scene from any pornography. Jimin doesn’t move a bit-only her chest is heavily healing up and down, even after you flip her upside down.

You tease her asshole with your middle finger and when she senses it enter she helps you by spreading her cheeks for deeper insertion. No resistance in and out of her ass. Every curl inside her ass makes Jimin squeeze her own cheeks as a response with a powerless moan. “Mmm, fuck me please… I’m not done yet.” Of course. You grin and prepare your cock for the second entrance as you pull Jimin up on all fours. Her arms give up when you rub your glistening cock on her pussy lips. And her reason gives up when you penetrate her rear hole.

“Ahh-fuck yes!”

“Holy fuck. This is so tight.” Her tightness erases your patience to savor it slowly. You start ruining her ass with the intention of actually destroying it. Jimin frowns, loud moan seeping through the bitten lip, hands curling into fists but arms all powerless on her sides.

“It’s so good, it’s so fucking good…! Don’t stop it baby. Make me cum like a fucking whore…!” Her voice can’t even get louder when her words just melt on the mattress just like her. Her words turn to nothings, eyes squeeze shut, concentrating all her senses to where she’s getting fucked. You feel your eyelids become heavier every single thrust, but the visual pleasure is just too good to give up watching it-her ass up for you to fuck it senseless, narrow waist contrasting her wide hips so aesthetically. The cherry on top is the expressions on her gorgeous face which you can’t quite read. Just like when all colors mixed makes pitch-black, her facial wrinkles and twitches are the perfect mixture of all pleasure, ecstasy that you can’t tell what she’s feeling at this moment.

“Nngh!” Actually, you can. Jimin is orgasming so hard, clear—dirty—liquid pumping out of her empty pussy to flood the mattress. Her ass squeezes your cock too hard for you to move in and out as fast as before without blasting every drop in her climaxing ass hole.

So you park it deep in her contracting hole, stay there, and shut Jimin’s moaning mouth with yours. She doesn’t care—or she doesn't acknowledge—and keeps screaming for her life even after her peak has washed over. A few dozen seconds pass, she calms down to at least breathe regularly when you stand your torso up to resume the session.

“You… You have to cum…” As if she even cares for you instead of her own pleasure. You know she just wants more overwhelming orgasm only you can deliver, and you are no different. There’s something about this body, these tits, the voice, this face, this pussy, this ass; there really is something about Yoo Jimin. Without your knowledge you are humping her like a villain, mad, but with a grin that’s so dangerous that Jimin mirrors. Your hand already made itself home around her neck, a red mark of it pressing hard inevitable, tears rolling down along her side face.

“I’m going to fill you up, Jimin.” And with a sharp inhale you begin wrecking her inside. A gut-rearranging pounding is what her perfect ass deserves and she can’t even open her eyes properly-either one stays closed against her will, rolling up to see that there’s nothing inside her head.

“Fuck! Please, please, please, please… Gah, I’m- Again…!” How impatient. There’s not even a point for you to call a flaw. Immoral, impatient, vulgar, dirty… She’s all too perfect. And you’re sure that’s why you cum so hard, like never before.

A nasty pair of voices fill each other’s brain as you two cum. You lower your body, forehead on hers and eyes on hers, looking through those teary orbs as you feel yourself bursting out gregariously. No words but loud pants bridge your sensations to each other, and until the last spurt you don’t even blink in order to see Jimin go through her own orgasm.

That’s it; it’s been your undesirable sadistic desire that kept you on fire, and when you have saturated it it flips out of your head, making it empty—there hasn’t been anything other than that. When you’re done completely you let Jimin go from your glare, sit on the edge next to her gasping body. Your urge is swept off so cleanly, and you can see how dirty it was by the mess on your bed.

“Are you alright?” You ask, but looking up at the ceiling, not Jimin. You don’t turn your head but can already sense her looking at you. “You’re just so perfect.” Selfishly she doesn’t answer. And you hear the smirk in her words. You make one on your face too, hearing that, stand up, face her and find Jimin overloading your vision with how she gorgeously lies down there, making even all the nasty things complement her perfection.

“I’ll shower. Just don’t fall asleep on the bed. It’s dirty.” You tell Jimin, all helpless and powerless on the bed and panting like she just had the best sex in her life. The lustful girl who was begging for you to kill her is nowhere to be found; instead there’s a weak, short of breath, vulnerable and lithe angelic devil with your cum gushing out of her ass. As if a few more touches and she’d actually evaporate.

In the shower you barely feel the water on your body, so distracted by your own thoughts—your own thoughts but in the grabs of Yu Jimin. The exact same as yesterday, you are showering yourself with your shocked, strange feelings in the shower after sex that simply blew your mind.

It's just that she's too good. Too good to call it a hook-up, too good to make it only an occasional sex. The way she craves your cock, the way she begs for your violence, the way she’s so desperate for extreme orgasms under your hold. It’s the first time for you to smile just by thinking of a girl, especially when you’re such a harsh and rough type of a person even you’d admit. She’d let you hit her. She’d let you choke her, let you fuck her, destroy her—let you love her.

Then the door opens, a small, pale figure of female comes in, walks slowly through the mist of the hot water. Jimin stops in front of you, legs barely holding there, face buried on your chest and her arms locked around your neck to support her lithe body but they barely do. You move a little backward to let her more of the hot water.

As if all the water got into your veins, you feel your heart burn. Just look at her—legs all wobbly, barely standing, too exhausted to even look up at you, her hands at the back of your neck irregularly stroking the back of your head as if signaling she’s at least perceiving things properly. You put a hand on her back and spread the water on it, and that’s when she lifts her head and meets your eyes. 

Weak and lethargic like a candlelight in front of a tsunami, Jimin is barely standing there with low moans whenever her legs wobble and give up. Her arms tighten around your neck as one of yours hug her back so that she doesn’t collapse. Her face is right beneath yours, tilted up to face yours. Those eyes can’t avoid looking at your lips, which is just what you’re doing to her unashamedly.

Your hand climbs up to the back of her head. Regardless of that you and Jimin are exchanging such a strong yet soft, intense yet loving eyelock. It is an atypically genial moment and if you look back at this moment you might throttle yourself. She should know it by now, from the visible, audible changes on you. 

(Maybe you were afraid. Or beyond that. Love was what your fears were afraid of. Doesn’t quite make sense to say that you have fears, but anyways, you didn’t want, nor expect a couple nights to escalate to an actual romance.)

Minutes pass, and pass, and—and pause, when you pull her a bit into your arms and make a soundless, yet seismic kiss. Lips lock. Two pairs of lips open and a pair of tongues make contact, hug each other just like you two. Her hands snake into your hair, your head in her hands and deeper into the kiss. You two have even forgotten to breathe as the liplock continues for what feels like a lifetime, to complete the kiss of your life. When you try to pull back Jimin lunges a bit forward not to break the kiss, and you let your system suffocate a few dozen seconds more. 

“You’re so beautiful, Yu Jimin.” You finally tell her this. Not the literal confession of love but she gets it with the bewitching smile she always wears like nothing. Never been in love, you feel like you’re sent back to childhood, pure and intact, but that feeling is shattered into pieces when her hand finds your hardened cock poking at her belly.“Is that why you’re so hard, baby?” This time, the word ‘baby’ sounds so right with a lip bite of your lover and with a lust-filled grin on you. Her thumb slides on the underside of the tip, almost making you stumble back.

“Yes. Just like you’re always horny because of me.”  With a smirk you turn her around, bend her over so that her hands are on the wall, and put your cock in in one stroke. Jimin helplessly loses all the strength in her legs and falls but you're prudential enough not to let her. It's to the point where she's just hanging from your arms when you kindle the movement. Her skin looks even more satin with the water so you collar her and go on. You can't stop when the biggest impetus is jonesing for it. No choice but to harden the grip on her throat.

Jimin is flaccid on the wall, fingers fumbling on and desperately digging themselves on it with her head facing down. You are never going to unbind her until she falls into a stupor. “Baby I… I fucking love it so deep…! Use me just like that…” She can't let it out loud and soon loses all voice, raises her head, brings yours right beside hers and kisses you. And a feeling that this is the requital for your disclosure makes it compulsory to reciprocate it poignantly. Her hand guides one of yours to her tits, pushes it hard on it to make you squeeze them and soon the convulsions agitate through her body. Her orgasmic screams reverberate through your throat, which is also moaning out of the pleasure congesting your mind. 

When the kiss breaks her yelps stifle the smacking and squelching. You have no idea if it’s your heartiness or just overstimulation from before the shower, but her voice sounds so giddy she might just hit the floor all limp. The burgeoning pleasure conglomerates into a derogated vertigo, the unbearable sensations stack up in your spines and Jimin’s wringing walls really doesn’t help you push it down. Her eyes tell you—because her mouth can’t right now—she’s only a couple thrusts away from coming undone, tantamount to what’s threatening to blow your mind, break down your nerves.

“I’m coming, I’m coming, I’m fucking coming…!” A tautology that is so understandable. You help her, add to the pleasure by choking her. Her moans permeate to your hand through her throat and the foul secretion of her orgasm flows down her legs with the water pelting down on your bodies. Jimin fumbles on the wall with her fingers, too herring-gutted to digest the deray.

“Jimin. Yu Jimin. I’m coming too-fuck…!” When Jimin hears her name she hums, and when she feels the warmth coat her walls she buckles, arches her back to beckon your lips and jockeys her tongue between them. In less than a minute however she pulls back, due to lack of air, because of your chokehold, and pants in your face, with a pejorative smile, but no sign of mannerism—you all know, that smile that follows after an exquisite sex—her sheer feelings carved in it, and you willingly mirror it as a beck of mutuality.

******

A rather huge thing is settled. Sitting on the edge of the bed together, with a cigarette between your fingers for each, you recount your history: the reason you moved, your personality, your sex life being like this. All of them, however, converge to her, Yu Jimin, weirdly enough for you who just can’t concede any feelings involved, which sounds like a monolithic psychopath which actually might be who you are.

Well, a little bit of romance couldn’t kill, could it? You think, lying next to Jimin and slowly closing your eyes to fall-

“You haven’t said it yet.”

“Say what?”

“You only said I’m beautiful.”

“And?”

“I know there’s something more. You know there’s something more.”

There you fail to hold out the chuckle.

“I don’t know what you’re-“

“It’s okay, baby. You don’t have to be shy about it,”

Jimin mischievously giggles. You know you can’t just laugh it off, and you won’t. That intricate feeling that tickles, but is not transient.

With a somnolent voice, you placidly say, like a tagline of a tragedy—or a comedy.

“Love you, Jimin.”

Her grin infiltrates her words hearing it.

“That’s it, my boy. Love you too.”

******

[ashwhowrites]

Hi, I love ur stories and I had an idea I was hoping you could write. If not I completely understand and respect that. I loved ur fic where Eddie was the popular one instead and everyone thought hellfire/his band was cool. So would you be able to write another popular Eddie Munson x shy/nerdy reader fic but instead it doesn’t deal with the whole upside it’s more so of Eddie is popular and gets paired with nerdy reader or kind of like a 10 things I hate about you sort of thing where there’s a bet and she finds out about it but a happy ending please:) if not completely fine. I hope you have a great day/night and wish all the best for you <3

I think this got a little long because I squeezed it all in one part. I hope this is what you wanted and you enjoy it. Thank you for requesting 🫶🏻

Bet on me

It wasn't a shock that Eddie could get any girl he wanted. And his long list of the girls he dated could back that up. He never had anyone turn him down and that made him cocky. His friends loved it, boys will be boys. And boys love to play games.

"How was the date with Tracy?" Blake asked, one of Eddie's popular friends.

"It was alright. She was easy so that was nice" Eddie smirked, just another girl on the list.

"Well, you aren't the only one that got laid last night. I got Chrissy Cunningham, which puts me above you" Josh gloated. A pleased smile on his face as Eddie rolled his eyes.

"How did you land her? She's like forbidden" Eddie asked, a little hit to his ego.

"Either way, Josh is now at the top of the list. Getting closer to the $300" Blake said, writing down little dashes next to Josh's name.

"No way. I'm not losing $300. Who do I need to date to get me on the top?" Eddie asked, shoving Josh aside as he continued to brag.

"Um, how about..." Blake said as he looked around. Eddie watched as a twisted smirk showed up on his face. He looked back to Eddie with evil in his eye.

"Y/F/N"

Josh laughed out loud. A laugh so hard he smacked Eddie next to him.

"Dude there's no way she's going to agree to that!" Eddie argued. Y/N was the nerd of the school. There were a few nerds, but she was the smartest out of all of them. She was quiet and kept to herself. How the hell would Eddie get her to date him? How the hell would he even get a conversation started?

"Damn, then it looks like you can hand over that $300 now," Josh said, holding out his hand.

"If anyone can crack her, it'll be you," Blake said, encouraging Eddie as he hyped him up.

"I'll add $200 more if you can take her virginity," Josh smirked, knowing Eddie wouldn't shy away from a higher bet.

"Well gentleman, looks like I'm making $500" Eddie smirked as he walked off, heading towards her direction.

~

Y/N finished grabbing her books from her locker. She slammed the locker shut and jumped as Eddie leaned against the metal beside her.

"Y/N right?" He asked, putting on his best charming smile.

"Um yeah," she said quietly, not quite making eye contact with the popular boy.

"I was wondering if you maybe wanted to go out sometime?" He asked, putting his arm near her head as he leaned into her. He felt a blow to his ego when she stepped back.

"I'm sorry but I don't think we have much in common." She spoke quietly that he could barely hear her. But she walked past him.

It looked like Eddie had to put in more work than he was used to.

~~~

Eddie waited a few days before he talked to her again. He didn't want his sudden interest to be that suspicious.

He walked into his math class, heading straight for the teacher.

"Mr. Munson, what can I do for you?" The teacher sighed

"Can I get a tutor? I need to pass this next test or my uncle is gonna kick my ass." He said, not a full lie. Wayne was getting pissed off with Eddie's grades.

"Language," the teacher scolded, "but I'm glad you are finally accepting help. I have a few options, there is Char-"

"I want Y/N," Eddie said, well demanded.

"Y/N? She is my best student but she doesn't take well to tutoring the popular crowd" the teacher explained.

"I'll make her change her mind," Eddie said with a cocky smile

And just like that Y/N was in the palm of his hand.

~~~

It took a few days before the teacher assigned her to tutor him. She tried to fight it but the teacher refused. She was extremely confused as to why Eddie would request her, and the thought made her nervous.

She took a deep breath and knocked on the small trailer. She looked down at the address on the piece of paper, making sure she was in the right place.

She looked up as she heard the door open. Spit caught in her throat as a shirtless and incredibly sweaty Eddie stood before her.

"Sorry. Was doing a workout, come on in" he said, stepping aside as she walked in. He pushed back his sweaty curls and closed the door.

"Do you want me to come back?" She asked. She felt extremely awkward that she interrupted a workout.

"No, you're fine. I'll just rinse off quickly and join you. Feel free to take a seat on the couch and help yourself to anything in the fridge" he said before he headed off into the bathroom.

She sat on the couch, taking in the small trailer. She could see baby photos of Eddie and an older man. The walls were covered in mugs and baseball caps. But it was a place of memories.

She grabbed out her books, pencils, and paper. She wasn't the type to help herself to something in the fridge so she sat and waited. She tried to shake away the thought of Eddie standing in the shower. The water dripped down his toned and tatted chest.

A few minutes later, the bathroom door opened and Eddie walked out, head down as he rang out his long hair. A loose muscle tank top covered his chest, and her eyes were locked on his arms. Then she looked down and took in his sweatpants. She looked away as he looked up. He tossed the towel back in the bathroom and walked to sit right next to her.

She shivered as she took in the smell of his shampoo and aftershave. She yelled at herself in her head to get a damn grip. But Eddie was attractive, everyone knew that. And she was simply a girl sitting next to the hottest boy in school, watching him get out of the shower.

"Where do we start?" He asked, smirking as she jumped out of her skin. He loved that behind all her walls, she was still a girl who found him attractive. At least now he knew what he could play at.

"With your last test," Y/N said, taking out his graded test and handing it over for him to look at. "Tell me what you don't understand" She looked up at him as she waited for him to answer.

"How you are so beautiful and don't have a boyfriend" he replied, his eyes looking nowhere near the paper.

"Oh...uh thanks," she said, "but I meant about the math, Eddie."

He sighed as his words seemed to not have any effect. She was able to compose herself and brush him off.

He figured he needed to earn a little friendship with her first. So he sat there for two hours doing math.

Y/N sighed in relief when the sky got dark and she had a reason to go home.

"Well it's getting dark so I better head out. You did very well today. I think we can get you around a C" she said as she stood up.

"Why don't you stay a little longer?" He asked, grabbing her hand and freezing her in her spot. "Maybe talk without it being about numbers?"

"I uh- I rode my bike here so I really should go home." She said, giving him a small smile as she released her hand from his.

She waved bye as she walked out the door.

Eddie sighed as the door closed. She was a lot harder to crack than he thought.

~~~

As the final bell rang, Eddie was already in the parking lot. He stood near the bike rack, not sure which one would have been hers.

"Oh hi, Eddie" she greeted him with a smile as she unlocked her bike.

"I was thinking, what if we put your bike in my van, and I'll drive you to my place tonight. Maybe stay for dinner?" He asked, his cocky smirk made her face heat up.

She looked around as students watched them interact. A few of his friends stared at them, and it made her nervous.

"Then I'll drive you home and you won't have to worry about biking in the dark," Eddie added, the final push to make her sigh and agree.

She sat nervously in his van as the music played through the speakers. She found herself humming along and drumming her fingers against her thighs.

Eddie smiled as he heard her softly singing, he was very surprised the shy nerd would listen to the same music as he did. He turned up the volume, winking towards her as she noticed.

"Don't stop, I like hearing you sing." He said, and for once he was honest.

Wait...did he like something about her?

~

They walked into the trailer and sat on the couch. For the first few hours, he stuck to the math, knowing she wouldn't move on unless they did.

"I'm starving, you hungry?" He asked as he stood up. His brain felt fried for squeezing in math for the past two days.

"I could eat" she smiled

"Follow me to the kitchen, milady" he joked as he held his arm out.

He silently cheered in his head as she laughed and took his arm. He walked them a few steps into the kitchen. He let go of her arm to look in his pantry.

"Mac n cheese?" He asked, taking out the small box.

"Sounds good to me," Y/N said as she took a seat at the small table.

Eddie began to prep the meal, trying to rank his brain for questions to ask.

"How come you wanted me to tutor you?" Y/N asked, her fingers drumming against the table.

"I wanted to get to know you," Eddie said, and it was the truth. He just had a different reason why he wanted to know her.

"But why? You've never noticed me before" She wasn't dumb. She knew Eddie wouldn't magically like her out of nowhere, no one did.

"But I noticed you now," he said, turning to look at her as the water boiled.

She accepted his answer and continued to drum her fingers against the table.

"Nervous habit?" He asked, nodding towards her fingers.

She felt her face blush as she clenched her hands into fits.

"A bit" she shrugged as she looked down

She heard him walking closer to her, her breathing picking up as he used his finger to lift up her chin. She stared at him like a love-sick puppy and he felt himself loving it.

"Why do I make you nervous, beautiful?" He whispered, she gulped as she bit at her lip. Eddie softly moved his hand up, his thumb yanking her bottom lip away from her teeth. A puff of air left her lips as she gasped. She tried not to squirm in her seat as he leaned down.

She was close enough to see every color in his eyes, every freckle on his skin, and just how pink his lips were.

"Is it because you like me?" He whispered. He smirked to himself when her eyes zoned in on his lips. He was cracking her down.

"Do you want me to kiss you?" He asked, her eyes snapped up to his eyes. He could see the panic, the fear, and the lust swimming together in her eyes.

"I- I've - don't know.." she trailed off, her eyes getting lost in his as the water boiled in the background. The only sound pulling her back to Earth.

"Never kissed someone have you?" He asked, his thumb softly rubbing her bottom lip again. She softly shook her head no.

She felt like she could breathe again when he stood up straight and removed his thumb. Space between them as she sucked in as much air as she could.

"That's a shame. You've got the prettiest lips I've ever seen" he winked, then turned around and finished making dinner.

He was collected, calm, and in charge.

She was a mess, anxiety-filled, and had no upper hand.

She got caught in the Eddie Munson spell.

~~~

Y/N felt awkward the next day at school. Knowing she was seconds away from kissing Eddie did something to her head.

He asked if she wanted him to kiss her. Did that mean he wanted to? Or was it a mind game he enjoyed? She knew his reputation and that relationships were not what girls went to him for.

She didn't have it in her to be used and tossed. She was far too sensitive for causal. As she walked through the hallway, her eyes caught a poster.

Hawkins Carnival

This weekend only

"Are you thinking about going?"

She turned her head as Eddie's voice filled her ears. He stood next to her, dressed to impress in his jacket and jeans.

"Oh, probably not. I'm not the best at those games." She said with a small laugh

Eddie knocked his shoulder against hers

"Half of it is strategy and the other half is physical. Which means if we team up, we could win and get our money's worth." Eddie explained

Did he want to spend his Saturday night at a carnival with Y/N?

Hell no. He wanted to be at a wild party and drinking until he forgot where he was.

But he had a bet to win.

"You want to go to the carnival together?" She asked, her head turned to the side as she looked at him. She felt the need to clarify what he was saying

He turned to catch her eyes

"It's a date then, sweetheart. I'll pick you up tomorrow at six." As always, he left with a wink that had her heart racing.

She was going on a date with Eddie.

~~~

Y/N barely slept that night. Her head filled with all the horrible things that could happen on the date. But also she allowed herself to get a little excited. Maybe she needed to not think so harshly about Eddie. Maybe he was a good guy and simply interested in her.

She sat on the front step, waiting for Eddie to pick her up. She took a deep breath as his van pulled up the street.

Eddie got out of his van and walked over to open her door.

"You look gorgeous," he said in awe. For once he saw her as more than the little nerd he met. Her glasses were gone, her hair loose on her shoulders, and simple touches of makeup that she probably didn't even need. He never realized how pretty she was just being casual. She always wore sweaters and skirts, but now her arms were bare as she wore a pink tank top. Her chest caught his eyes as he tried to look away. Then her smooth legs showed from her jean shorts.

"Oh thanks," she said shyly, "you look very handsome, Eddie." He wore a band T-shirt, his wrists covered in bracelets, black jeans with a red flannel tied around his skinny waist and his dirty sneakers.

For once in his life Eddie blushed

~

The drive was comfortable, and both sang along to the music. Eddie never realized how much he enjoyed her company.

The sun was still out and hot as they headed into the carnival. Eddie slipped his hand in hers, not saying a word about it as he walked up to the ticket booth. Once he paid for their tickets, they were walking hand in hand as they walked in.

The loud conversations filled her ears and the smell of popcorn filled her nose.

"Where should we start?" She asked, taking in all the rides and games.

"Bottle ring toss!" Eddie cheered as he walked them over to the small booth.

"Alright, gorgeous. What's my strategy?" He asked, handing the small bills over and receiving the rings.

Y/N leaned in and whispered into his ear, "Aim for the ones closest to you. And aim for the middle, it'll increase the chance that the ring will bounce onto one of the bottles."

She pulled back and stepped back, giving him space to toss.

And he did just as she said, tossing the ring into the middle. The small red ring landed on the bottle. He did it two more times and won.

He bowed as she clapped. The worker grabbed the small stuffed animal and handed it over. Eddie grabbed the small bear and happily handed it to Y/N.

She tucked the small bear under her arm and thanked him. He smiled and slid his hand back into hers as they continued to walk.

~

After two hours, they were hot and tired of walking around.

"Let's take a seat" Eddie groaned, sitting down on the bench. Y/N laughed but sat next to him.

With the moment to breathe, her head was spinning. She couldn't believe how much fun she was having with Eddie. How sweet he was and how he paid for everything, no questions.

"I'm so sweaty and hot" Eddie groaned, his curls all frizzy.

"Here, this might help," Y/N said as she stood up. Eddie watched confused as she walked behind him, and began to lift up his air. He breathed in relief as his hair was removed from his neck. He smiled to himself as she tied up his hair. A comforting feeling landed on his chest.

She used the binder on her wrist to tie up his hair, throwing it in a messy bun. She walked back in front of him and held out her hand.

"Let's go ride some rides and feel the wind"

Eddie smiled and grabbed her hand. He was actually having the time of his life. He was enjoying every second with her. And as he realized that, he felt a heavy amount of guilt fill his body.

Eddie blindly followed, focused on how terrible he felt.

"Ferris wheel?" She asked as they walked near it. Eddie snapped out of his thoughts and nodded. They walked in line and got on the small cart.

Their bodies smashed together as the ride slowly began to move. Eddie felt sick and he didn't think it was because of the ride.

"The sun is setting. Look how beautiful it is!" Y/N said as she pointed off into the sky. Eddie followed her finger and took in the pinks and purples that decorated the sky.

The ride ticked and slowly came to a stop, their cart at the very top. Y/N hummed as she felt the nighttime breeze start to make it's way. Her hair softly blew in the wind as she reached for his hand.

"Eddie?"

He snapped out of his thoughts again, looking over at her.

"Yeah?" He asked. He took in how beautiful she looked as the sun set behind her. The way her hair blew out of her face, and the scent of her perfume made his heart race.

Fuck...he likes her

"I want you to kiss me" she whispered, her eyes looking down to his lips as she leaned in.

Eddie felt conflicted as her eyes closed and she leaned closer. He knew he should have stopped her, and he should have confessed. But he wanted to kiss her, even if it would be the only time.

Her lips touched his and his mind went blank. All he could feel was her lips. Her left hand moved up to softly touch his cheek. He softly kissed her back, his hand landing on her thigh. The kiss was short and sweet, but impactful.

She pulled away, nervously. She just had her first kiss with the most popular boy in school.

Eddie had the first kiss that ever made him feel something. He looked into her eyes as she waited for him to say something, but he didn't. He pressed his lips eagerly against hers, already missing the way they felt against his.

~

Eddie pulled up in her familiar driveway. His stomach filled with endless butterflies. He never knew he could like a girl so much.

"I had a great time, Eddie." She said softly, holding the small bear in her hands. "Thank you" She leaned over and kissed his cheek, then got out of the van.

Eddie watched as she walked into her house. Her lips lingered on his cheek and guilt lingered on his mind.

~~~

A week passed, and Eddie and Y/N spent the week doing math. And now that the weekend was here, Eddie took her on another date.

This time at a house party. Y/N wasn't totally interested but she wanted to be with Eddie.

Eddie was terrified, but he had a plan. He wanted to go on a date somewhere else but his friends forced him to come. He didn't want to cancel with her so he bit the dust and arrived.

He was going to call off the bet with his friends and explain it all to her and hopefully, it would work out.

They walked in and all eyes were on them. Y/N gripped Eddie's hand as she tried to hide his body as they walked through. Everyone took in her small black flowy dress and red lips. She felt pretty and tried to keep her head high.

~

The night went and Y/N was tasting alcohol for the first time. She was a smart girl but didn't know a limit. She lost Eddie in the crowd, but she was on the path to find him.

She was drunk, stumbling around, and about to do something so stupid.

~

"So I need to talk to you guys about Y/N." Eddie sighed, the alcohol doing nothing to calm his nerves.

"Seems to be going very well, my man. Gonna hit it soon?" Josh asked, patting Eddie on the shoulder.

"About that-" but he was cut off when a body slid up next to his. He looked down as Y/N slid under his arm and cuddled into his side.

"I want to talk to you" Y/N whispered as she looked up at him. He looked down at her pouty red lips, craving nothing more than to kiss her.

"Alright. Let's go outside" Eddie offered

"I was actually thinking we could talk in the bedroom." She said, her finger trailing down his chest.

His friends whistled and Eddie was quick to grab her hand and walk her away.

"ATTA BOY MUNSON!"

Eddie groaned to himself as he flipped off his friends. Quickly rushing them up to the bedroom so he could confess everything before it was too late.

As they made it into the room, Y/N had more confidence than ever before. She pushed Eddie onto the bed, landing on his lap as she pressed her lips against his.

Eddie moaned as she rocked against his hips, but he had to focus on what was important. He held her hips still and pulled away from the kiss.

"I really need to talk to you," he said, she hummed but moved her lips to his neck.

"Talk to me," she said as she pulled away. He sighed in relief when she got off his lap.

"I need you to kn-" but the words died in his throat as she pushed down her dress. He felt a growl in the back of his throat as he took her in. The black bra and underwear looked amazing against her skin. He felt his cock grow hard as she unhooked her bra, letting it fall to the floor as she walked towards him again.

"Know what?" She whispered as she ran her hands up his thighs.

Eddie felt like he had an angel and devil on his shoulders. One side begging to cave and feel her wrapped around him. But the other side telling him to go any further would be wrong.

Before he could think of picking a side, the door flung open.

Y/N screeched and quickly grabbed the blanket off the bed. Eddie panicked as Josh walked in with a big smirk and a handful of cash in his hand.

"Well well well, Eddie you actually did it."

Eddie felt his blood run cold as he got off the bed. He snatched her dress and bra off the floor and handed it over to her.

"I'll be right back," he said before he harshly shoved Josh out the door.

Y/N was fast to get dressed, clipping on her bra as she immediately became sober. She slipped on her dress and cracked open the door.

"I don't want the fucking money. I want out." Eddie harshly whispered

"Oh come on Eddie. You put like three weeks into this bet, gonna quit now?" Josh scoffed

Y/N felt her stomach turn as she took in the words.

"Fine, you dated her so I'll give you the $300, but you didn't fuck her so you owe me the $200."

"You made a bet about me?" Y/N spoke, her voice cracking as she could feel the tightness in her throat. She opened the door wider, and the two boys froze upon her feet.

Eddie closed his eyes as he felt the world crumbling around him. He opened his eyes and turned to look at her. He felt his heart ache as the tears fell down her cheeks and the betrayed look in her eyes.

"Yes but please let me explain!" Eddie begged, his voice wavering with nerves.

Before she could think, her right hand slapped across his cheek. The sound echoed down the hallway and Josh yelled out to the party. People rushed up the stairs as Y/N stared Eddie down with the most hateful look he had ever seen.

"I can't believe I ever thought you liked me. I fucking hate you." She said through her clenched teeth, hot tears running down her face as she shoved him. She was fast as she pushed through the crowd and raced down and out of the house.

"Y/N! WAIT!" Eddie screamed, feeling the sting on his cheek as he pushed through the crowd.

But by the time he made it out, she was gone.

~~~

He showed up at her house over and over, but she never opened the door.

He had no idea how to make things right but he would die trying.

~

Monday morning he was off. He stopped by the flower store, picking out the prettiest ones he could find.

He held them in a tight grip as he walked into the building. Half the school was at the party so eyes followed him as he walked to her locker.

She was back to her normal self. Glasses on and her hair up, a sweater on her body, and a skirt on her hips.

"Y/N?" He said gently

"Eddie don't" she sighed as she looked at him

"Please I can explain" he begged

"Explain? Eddie, I'm not an idiot. You don't think I know that people think I'm a joke? I get it, I was a funny target for your popular games. But the game is over so just leave me alone." She said, tears building in her eyes as she walked off to class.

"But you're not a joke! You mean so much more than that!" Eddie said, following behind her and grabbing her arm. She sighed as he stopped her, the eyes of everyone on them. But Eddie didn't care, he was focused on her.

"That doesn't matter. What matters is that you would have never looked my way otherwise. You would have never liked me and you wouldn't have tried to get to know me." She said and walked away.

It hurt but Eddie knew she was right.

~~~

Eddie left her alone for about a week. He wanted to give her time to cry, scream, or whatever she needed to feel. But he didn't give up on her.

It was hard for both of them. He watched her every move throughout school, and she fought hard to never look. She dropped out of tutoring, which he felt would happen. He still worked hard at math, wanting nothing more than to prove their time spent together was for something.

He missed her and she missed him. She still has the bear, she cuddles with it every night. Eddie slept with the moments they had.

Y/N sighed as she walked out of school. It was Friday and she couldn't wait to go home and sleep away everything she felt.

But of course, Eddie stood there at the bike rack

"Eddie" she groaned

"I know. You don't want to talk to me or see me. I respected that for as long as I could. But I need you to know that everything I felt was real. I fell for you." He explained, his eyes pleading for her to stay.

"How can I believe you? How can I look at you the same way? I-I...I'm so hurt, Eddie. I knew getting involved with you was a bad idea. From the first night, when all you did was flirt and try to make me one of those girls. You knew I was fragile, and you used that against me. You toyed me along and made me believe for once I could be someone worthy of someone like you. I had my guard up in the beginning, but you were so sweet-" she got choked up as tears fell down her face. "So sweet that I thought I was the bad guy for thinking so little about you. That maybe you aren't a bad guy and I should see where it goes. But you are that guy Eddie. You are that shallow, selfish, and asshole guy."

"I'm sorry, I know! I'm an asshole, I was selfish. I had bad intentions in mind and you didn't deserve that. But I mean it when I say that you are someone anyone could fall in love with. I've never felt the things I feel for you. The way you make my heart race and the way you make me blush. You make me want to be someone better. I don't want the endless girls and be that guy anymore. I want to be worthy to be with you." Eddie choked out, tears building in his eyes as he made himself vulnerable to her.

She bit her lip as she tried to keep her cries inside. Her heart broke seeing him cry and being so torn up about it.

"That night at the carnival changed everything. We were going out even more after that. All those times together were real. Please just let me fix this." He begged.

"If they didn't walk in, would you have slept with me? Complete the bet?" It was a question she was scared to ask.

"No," he said without a thought, "I was going to tell you that night, I swear. I wanted to tell you at the carnival but then we kissed and every thought I had vanished. Then I was going to tell you at the party, and once you wanted to go further I knew I wouldn't until you knew the truth. No matter how hard it was to think straight when you looked the way you did. But I would never have gone through with it."

Maybe it was a mistake and maybe she'd get burned. But just like the last few weeks, she believed him.

"I'm Y/N, the last guy I liked kinda was an asshole. Think you can make me forget about that?" She asked, a teasing smile on her face as she held out her hand

Eddie wiped his tears and shook her hand. "I'm Eddie. And I'm gonna try my damn best to do so."

~

And he did. She wanted to go extremely slow. She made them start as friends, slowly trusting him as the months went on. He was patient, in no rush as he worked to be the best for her.

After being friends for three months, she asked him to kiss her. And he gladly did.

Tags!

@bmunson86 @mxcheese @ladymunson @michaelfuckinglangdon @z0mbie-blah @biittersweet @mirrorsstuff @somethingvicked @micheledawn1975 @ago-godance @magnificantmermaid @tlclick73 @hargrovesswifee @cityofidek @silky-luxe @lokiofasgard616 @loving-and-dreaming @eddiemunsonsbitch69 @thegemaqua @ashlynnkennedy @strangerthingsstories5255 @harringt8ns @pleasinghellfire @whoscamila @stusdollface93 @gretavankleep37 @bellaisswagger @arlx @ineedmentalhelp123

[comicwritesstuff]

okay this is so incredibly specific so please feel free to ignore BUT i’ve been wanting to read a fic for ages where the reader is Chase’s childhood best friend from Australia and she moves to New Jersey for a fresh start. She’s staying with Chase while she gets settled, and one day she comes to visit him at lunch at the hospital, where she ends up meeting House and he’s… intrigued by her 👀 either romantic or smut would be so very cool :^D <33 💐

YES. I LOVE THIS PROMPT IM SO SORRY IT TOOK SO LONG BUT IM FINISHED!!!

Gregory House x Fem!Chases bsf!Reader

Warnings: None really, just cussing and tooth rotting fluff >:) 3k+ words.

Chase's POV: 

“Well I was just wondering if we could go out sometime, I think you're really-” My attention shifted as y/n's call lit up my phone, interrupting the conversation. It was a more pressing matter than pursuing a one-night stand.

“Excuse me for a moment.” I say walking away, the woman having an annoyed look on her face. 

I answer the phone.

“Hello, y/n? Whats up” 

“Chase! Long time no talk haha.”

“You called me yesterday.”

“Learn to take a joke, anyways, I have some exciting news for you.”

“I’m moving to New Jersey!!” 

“Wait what? Really?”

“Yeah, I kinda forgot to tell you and i'm actually at the airport right now, so I hope you aren't busy tomorrow so you can pick me up.”

“Wow, um alright, yeah I can pick you up, do you have a place to stay?"

“Um…no…” I sigh, “Just stay at mine for now.”

“Don't even with the sigh i’ve known you my whole life you can put the nightly hookups on hold for your best friend.” 

I smirk and shake my head, “Yeah yeah, I’ll see ya tomorrow y/n” 

Y/N’s POV:

I smile as I hang up with Chase, grabbing my luggage and pulling it along the airport. Ahh yes, crying babies, rushed parents, annoying couples and that one insanely attractive person you see for a split second, I love the airport. 

Glancing at my ticket I realize I might have to hurry to make it to the gate, speed walking I see a text from chase, “Have a safe flight.” Let's hope so. 

Time skip (to lazy to write all the details about fucking airports)

Relaxing on a 21-hour flight proved challenging, especially with a toddler nearby. It was unclear whether the toddler would be a source of annoyance or just be tolerable. The flight just started. So to entertain myself I decide to do some digging about Chase's job, he brags about it all the time and the infamous Dr Gregory House. To be honest I thought Chase was gay for a little while with how much he talks about him. Still speculating. 

The plane lifts off and I start my look, at first just looking up Gregory House, a surprising amount of things show up. An article titled, “Gregory House, Talented Doctor? Or a lying Narcissist?” Oh well that's a good first impression.   

Scrolling down I see another article, “The world's greatest doctor, and his deepest secrets” 

Now that's enticing. I click on it only to find out his deepest secrets, including using 3 in one shampoo and how his leg got hurt. I guess people hardly know anything about him. I click on the photos of him, there's only a couple, most of them blurry but to be honest he's pretty good looking from the photos I can see. I’d honestly be gay for him if I was Chase. 

The toddler next to me starts giggling, I glance at her and notice her staring at a picture of House. She's kicking her feet too. That's so relatable. 

For the rest of the flight I find some stuff about this guy named Taub, who somehow also figured out that he cheated on his wife which is why he had to quit. How did I find that out? I took a coding class in 8th grade. (I got lucky) 

Lisa Cuddy the Dean of Medicine, unfortunately only good stuff about her, boring. 

Remy Hadley, oddly, can't find anything on her. 

Eric Foreman, his brothers in jail, fun. 

And the others are just as boring. For the remainder of the flight, the toddler proved surprisingly chill. I passed the time by binge-watching random movies I had downloaded earlier

*Another time skip to plane landing* 

Finally, 21 hours on a fucking plane is horrible. 

I check my phone after I take it off airplane mode, seeing a text from chase a couple minutes ago. 

“I’m at the airport, is your flight done?”

“Yep, wya.”

“I’m parked in the front.”

“That's specific” 

“There's no other front dumbass”

I roll my eyes at his text, and get off the plane as soon as I can. I walk out and see Chase standing outside his car waiting for me. His eyes light up as he spots me, and a grin spreads across his face. Unable to resist, I rush forward and envelop him in a bear hug.

“Man you’re a lot uglier in person” 

I say jokingly, smirking.

“Oh shut up”  

We climbed into his car, and he drove us back to his apartment. When we arrive he helps get my crap into the house, before he gets a call saying he had to head to work. 

Eventually a week or two passes, I've gotten more comfortable in his apartment, applied for a bunch of jobs, and looked for places to stay so I’m not invading his “man” space anymore. Unfortunately there aren't a lot of options, and no jobs have replied to my applications, which is weird since im overqualified, it's almost like they aren’t even getting my applications in the first place. 

I’m doing the dishes when I get a text from Chase.

“Hey, I left my wallet on the counter, so I don’t have money for food, could ya bring it for me?” 

“Nah”

“See you soon”

I breathe out a laugh and grab his wallet, putting a coat on then driving to the hospital. 

When I get there I walk in, looking around before I call Chase, “Where do I go this place is huge” I can hear talking in the background, actually more like arguing. “Uhm just wait at the entrance i’ll be right there.” He says in a whisper.

He hangs up so I just stand there awkwardly waiting, that was a weird ass phone call. To be fair Chase is a weird ass guy with weird ass coworkers so what do I expect at this point. 

Before I see Chase I see Dr Gregory House, limping quickly towards me. And damn he’s even hotter in person than the pictures I saw of him. 

“Hey, no time to explain, you need to come with me.” He grabs my arm dragging me into the elevator. Before it closes I see Chase come out of the stairway, he sprints towards the elevator but it closes. I hear him trying to say something, but it's muffled and I can’t understand it. Wait why the fuck did I even follow House? 

“You're real compliant, you’d make a great hooker.” 

I turn around and side eye him.

“Thanks, so would you.” I say giving a fake smile. 

“Speaking of compliant, why did you drag me away from Chase? What's going on?’’

“I made a bet with Chase.”

“That's really specific and helpful thanks” 

“Oh yeah no problem” 

Sarcastic asshole. 

“If you don’t tell me, I'll stop following you and go with Chase.” 

He rolls his eyes.

“Fine, Mom! The bet is that I can convince you to work as my assistant here.”

“Really? That's it? I need a job. Why would Chase even bet against that?” 

“He thinks you’ll fall in love with me so he doesn’t want that to happen, in his words, “She has a thing for homeless looking, narcissistic assholes with beards.” So he’s trying to prevent it, and he’s sure he can.”  

Damn- I feel so called out. I stay silent before nodding.

“Well to be honest he isn’t wrong.” 

I see House smirk before we get out of the elevator, he hobbles and leads me to his office, locking the door then having me sit down. 

As I sit down in front of his desk, he grabs a ball and starts throwing it against the wall, while sitting down. 

“So are you gonna interview me or something?” 

“Yeah, I’m just waiting for Chase to get back up here so he can watch me interview you.” 

He really is an asshole…it's kinda hot though. 

“Fair enough.” 

We wait a bit before Chase comes jogging up to the door, out of breath, he’s clearly been running plenty. He starts banging on the glass door that House previously locked.

“House!! Y/N! Let me in! This isn’t fair!” He exclaims, House is grinning when he leans over his desk, crossing his arms.

“Okay! Let’s start this interview now.” 

“Y/n! You traitor!” 

Did I abandon my childhood best friend for some disabled doctor? No, I did it for the job. At least that's what I'm telling myself.   

Turning my attention back to House instead of the Australian cry baby outside the door, he asks me, “First question, do you want the job of being my assistant?” 

“Obviously”

“Great! You have the job!” 

I mean, easy enough. I smile and shake my head. This hospital really has some unique people. 

House shakes my hand, grinning as Chase is sitting on the floor defeated outside. 

As the days turned into weeks at Princeton-Plainsboro Teaching Hospital, I got to know everyone. Cuddy had to actually approve of me working as House’s assistant first, but once she saw a…normal enough individual, she welcomed me into the environment.

Getting to know House better, I found myself drawn to him in ways I hadn’t really expected. The bet between House and Chase, Chase thinking I would fall for House, I took it as a joke, until that joke turned more into reality. 

Despite House being a narcissistic piece of shit, there were small moments that I saw, or shared with him that made me fall for him. Ones where he seemed happy, or just easy to be around. At work he's serious but when Wilson dragged him out to bars, or other social environments, he could actually be fun. And though him being a dick is undeniably attractive sometimes, when he was…”himself” that's how I began to fall for him.  

One day, after an especially tough day for the team, and being forced to go break into houses and get coffee and food, I found myself alone with House in his office. The rest of the team had left, leaving us in a rare moment alone with each other. As I glanced up from the medical chart of the most recent patient, I caught House’s gaze lingering on me, his blue eyes intense and unreadable. 

“Something on your mind, House?” I asked, attempting to break the awkward silence between us. 

He smirked, leaning back in his chair with a casual ease, “Oh just wondering why a catch like yourself doesn’t have a boyfriend, or husband?” He responds, his tone laced with flirtatiousness.

I couldn’t help but chuckle at his response, a faint blush on my cheeks. House and I had gained an uncanny camaraderie, made from me running around doing everyone's paperwork, being the designated “you get to tell patients they are dying!!” person. And as you’d expect people didn’t respect me a lot, but if someone was blatantly mean to me, House would step in and destroy their self esteem in a second and walk away like it meant nothing. That's another thing that I think made me fall for him. 

“Believe me, I’ve been asking myself that a lot too.” I smile, placing the medical chart on his desk. 

“Do you want a boyfriend? Or girlfriend, or a pet or something.” He quips, his eyes looking like they are reading me, studying my every movement and reaction to what he’s saying, it's flattering and uncomfortable at the same time. 

“A boyfriend would be nice.” I say reassuringly, a laugh escaping me as I shake my head in amusement.

“Alright let's say *hypothetically* I asked you out. *hypothetically* what would your response be?” 

Raising an eyebrow I ask, “Are you trying to go on a date with me?”

“I said hypothetically, now answer the question.” 

A smirk plays on my lips as I roll my eyes in a mock annoyance. 

“Well.” I say, “Hypothetically, I would say yes.” 

“Great, meet me for dinner at (some random fancy place idk u make up a name i'm too lazy to), wear something cute.” 

 With that, he sauntered out of the office, leaving me to think about what just happened. Glancing at the clock, I realized I had just enough time to get ready for our “hypothetical date.” 

The anticipation bubbled within me, standing outside (IDK A RESTAURANT NAME IT), waiting for House to arrive. My heart raced with nervous excitement, unsure what to expect from a…unique…guy like House. I had used all the time I had to work on my outfit, settling for a simple dress (or suit, or just anything you're comfy in :) ). 

As I scanned the busy street, searching for any sign of House, I heard the obnoxiously loud sound of a motorcycle approaching. House rode in, parking his bike before getting off and walking (limping) towards me. My breath caught in my throat as I saw him, he looked impossibly handsome, in a tailored suit that made his rugged charm come out, good god he looked fine. 

“Y/n,” he greeted with a warm smile, his eyes crinkling at the corners in genuine affection. “That outfit makes your ass look nice.” 

I scoff playfully, hitting his arm. “So much for acting like a gentleman, at least you look like one.” 

He chuckled, offering me his arm in a more gentlemanly gesture. “Yeah yeah, shall we?” 

With a nod, I looped my arm through his, savoring the warmth of his touch as we mad our way into the restaurant. The ambiance was elegant and inviting, with a soft candlelight casting a warm glow over the decor. 

As we were seated at a table in a quiet corner of the restaurant, I couldn’t help but feel a flutter of excitement in my chest. I’m finally going out with House, damn Chase was totally right. 

Throughout the evening, our conversation flowed surprisingly easily between us. I had half expected him to be rude or stuck up, but he seemed actually interested in me, in my life. He was asking questions, laughing and joking with me. Sharing stories of his own, and treating me like an actual human. Honestly it was scaring me a bit, but it was making me fall harder for him. 

House raised an eyebrow, a playful glint in his eyes. ‘So, tell my Y/N. What’s the most embarrassing thing that's happened to you?” 

I laughed, shaking my head as I thought about the memory. “Well, there was this one time in college-” 

“Let me guess,” House interrupted, a smirk playing on his lips. “It involved copious amounts of alcohol and very questionable decisions?” 

I chuckle and nod in agreement. “You could say that. Long story short, I ended up streaking through the campus fountain at three in the morning. I'm pretty sure Chase might still have a video of it still.”

House raises an eyebrow, an amused laugh coming from him. “I wish I could say I was surprised, oh and also. I am finding that video.” He states, with a determined and mischievous grin. 

The dinner continues and our connection just seems to get stronger, fueled by shared laughter, stories of shit Wilson and him did in college, things Chase and I did in highschool. With each passing moment, I found myself more and more under House’s spell, captivated by the complexity of himself, his character. His gaze, laughter, even his personality. Maybe it was the wine or something, but House was being nice, he had charisma, and was being attractive in general.  

I don’t even realize that we’ve spent almost three hours in the restaurant just talking. I check my phone seeing that it's 9:30 already. We had got and paid the check awhile ago, but had stayed to talk longer. The restaurant closes at 10, and I felt a sudden pang of disappointment that our date was close to being over with. I didn’t want it to end, I was savoring this moment I was having, this seemingly perfect night. 

When the waiter arrived to take our dessert order, I couldn't help but feel a pang of disappointment that the evening was drawing to a close. I wasn't ready for it to end—I wanted to savor every moment, to prolong the magic of our time together for as long as possible.

House notices my look of disappointment, “I’m aware how amazing I am, but if its up to me, this won’t be our last date.” 

A smile tugs at the corners of my mouth, my cheeks heating up as I blush. The butterflies in my stomach going absolutely insane. 

So with a quick glance around the restaurant, I rose from my seat, House grabbed my hand as he led me towards the exit. 

Stepping out into the cool night air, I felt a sense of happiness coursing through me. This was it, the beginning of a new relationship, a surprisingly healthy one so far. 

As House’s hand tightened around mine, his touch sent sparks of electricity coursing through my veins. I knew now that maybe Chase knows me better than I know myself, in all fairness he predicted this, but right now I wasn’t afraid to admit this, to admit the undeniable attraction that I had towards Dr Gregory House. 

His touch leaves mine, his hand pulling as we stand in front of the restaurant, close to each other, staring in each other's eyes. I glance at his lips before leaning in, pressing a soft kiss to his lips, not sure if he expected it, but I pull back.

“Goodnight House. I’ll see you tomorrow.” And with that I walk away, to my car. When I get in my car, I look in the mirror, seeing House standing there with a lovestruck grin, one a child would have over some school crush. But it was cute, he was cute. And this was just the beginning of an annoyingly predicated relationship with a Vicodin addicted, asshole, who I suspect has a soft spot for me.

[0tivez]

adrenalize

synopsis: a perfect student can get in toruble every now and then too, right? except this time, you get into trouble with your famous bachelor professor satoru gojo for an unorthodox reason, and he'll make sure you make up for it

characters: gojo

warnings: female reader, student reader x professor gojo, semi-public sex, age gap (early 20s to late 20s), oral (female + male receiving), very light power play, dub-con (maybe?), unprotected sex, degrading/praising, breeding. mdni

wc: 4.3k

note: yes, this is my dark fantasy of being accepted as a mean looking emo bitch. no, i'm not in love with my professor. emo sluts rise (emo=reader wears all black and has dark makeup lol sorry couldn't pull a wattpad) it's our time to have steamy office sex with 2d men. see the end for more notes!

you know, i don't really put in songs, but what the hell. this one's for the emos

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"oh, i have an appointment with professor gojo today" you tell your friend as you lay your lunch tray onto the table.

"for what?" she asks, her motion following yours. you two sit comfortably on the wooden chairs.

"i don't know. my grades, i guess? but my grades are fine, so i don't really know" you answer in confusion, and stab a big piece of chicken.

"well, i wish he would call me in his office"

"what?" you almost choke on your food. you look at your friend with big, dumb eyes. you wouldn't have been this surprised if she confessed to murdering someone, and you shouldn't be surprised at her confession either. yet somehow, you are.

"satoru's kinda hot, isn't he?" she responds, scrunching her nose. "he's also, like, extremely smart and funny"

"he's fucking old"

"um, no he's not? half of the school has bag of bones for professors, satoru's like... what, 30? i've fucked older"

"still, so inappropriate" you shut the conversation down. sure, you two had joked about how hot gojo is, and sure, the idea did entertain your mind, but it's between you two, a very private inside joke. you feel exposed this way, and the last thing you need is having that image of your professor in your mind as he lectures you about god knows what later today.

"i bet he fucks like his age too" she smirks across the table. you turn your head around anxiously to see if anyone's heard you two, but the loud cafeteria outweighs your little dirty convo.

"shut up!"

"girl you know damn well-"

"let's talk about this after i get scolded today. i don't want to worry about this man anymore"

it's 5.40 pm. where is he? he was supposed to meet you after class, yet he's nowhere to be found. and you're there standing in shame, as students pass you by, probably wondering what happened for you to be waiting like a stray kitten by his office.

of course, it's nothing to be ashamed of. god, you don't even know what you're supposed to be ashamed of yet! but here you are, cold sweat down your neck, hands nervously moving up and down your arms as you wait for time to pass.

that's how you are. quiet, nervous. yet most people have a different image of you; a colder, meaner image. it's difficult for you to socialize, so you stick to your two friends you made ages ago for your in-class interactions. for classes, you opt for quietly listening to your lectures rather than being interactive, even though you know it's not the right way, and you want to be social. that's why most professors rarely remember your name or your face- not that they're eager to know you anyways. that's why it's so confusing. what did you do to get called like this? how did he even know your name?

"ah- sorry for being late" gojo rushes next to you. his tall figure guides you to the narrow hallway where his office is hidden in. he quickly unlocks the door, and waits for you to enter first. "sit, i'll be back in a couple minutes" you nod.

once he turns around, you quickly observe his clothes. he always knew how to be stylish, even though his clothes are always basic. you figured it must be his fit figure that makes anything he wears compliment him. he's always clean and rich looking; never would he wear a wrinkled shirt. the female students would anticipate warm weathers, where gojo would sometimes wear a tight, black t-shirt and jeans. not today tho. although the weather is warm, he's wearing a light blue linen shirt with black jeans, complimented with a thick, leather belt. his shirt exposed his contoured collarbones, and arms exposed with an expensive looking watch to complete the look. and his face... god, his face.

he shuts the door behind you. you're left for your own thoughts. sitting down is uncomfortable for you, the only thing you can hear is your heartbeat. the building is empty, you can faintly hear students speaking from outside. you get up, and look around his office. it's filled with thick, leather covered books. interesting, you wouldn't assume he's into reading by looking at him, or hearing him speak. it must be professional deformation. papers are scattered around on his desk. everywhere else except for his desk is tidied and clean, but his desk is a warzone.

the door opens.

"hi, hello, sorry for making you wait. hope you didn't miss me too much" gojo paces toward his desk.

you shake your head. "it's alright, you must be very busy"

gojo stands over his desk and gathers some papers in his hand and puts them aside. "well, it is difficult to be the fun one in this department, y'know?" his blue eyes focus on yours for a moment, as he waits for a reaction from you. you chuckle in response.

gojo pulls out a paper from the batch and sits down. he raises the paper and looks at you. he calls your name. "correct?"

just the way he said your name sends chills down your spine. god, in that moment, you truly wish you would be more active in class, only to hear him call your name.

"correct"

he reads the paper quickly without putting it down. he looks like a kid doing it, yet you feel as if you were in front of a judge.

"so, interesting. you know your grade, right?" you nod.

"i-is there a problem? i thought i did good"

"oh, you did, definitely. this paper is very impressive. i enjoyed reading it." he smiles at you. "the only problem was, i had no idea whose paper i was reading the whole time"

you sit there silently. where was he heading at? he didn't call you in just to tell you to be more active in class, right?

"i mean i did know, i know how to read, but there wasn't a face you know? our class is pretty small, so i know most people. but you, who are you?"

"excuse me?" you manage to let out.

"you don't speak much in class, don't talk to anyone else in class, yet you never skip a class. and then boom! you write out this paper"

"am- am i being accused of something, sir?"

gojo looks amused. he grins, and rests on his back, crossing his arms. his muscles show up, is he trying to look intimidating? is he trying to get a confession out of you? cheating? stealing?

"no, nothing at all. i'm just curious. it's important that i know my pupils. talking to strangers affect my performance too"

"i- guess i'm more of a listener" you feel so small in front of him. this is embarrassing.

gojo gets up and walks to the chair across you.

"but you see, you don't look friendly either."

"wha-"

"i remember seeing you in class and thinking 'wow, she really doesn't wanna be here' which is new to me, cause i'm fun!" now you're sure he must be offended or something.

"sir, if that's the issue, i'll be more active from now on" you just want to leave. whatever it takes, leave.

"but why?" he ignores your suggestion. "why hate being with me?" gojo leans in to be closer to you. his long legs and big body help him be closer to you, despite the small coffee table separating you two.

"there's not a reason, sir. i don't hate-"

"i'm used to being popular among female students, y'know?"

this time, it's your turn to giggle.

"i'm sorry, is this what it's been about? you're offended that i'm not attracted to you?" lie. you're crazy for him. maybe that's why you're extra shy around him. but somehow, a wave of confidence washes over you in this moment. maybe it's the sincerity of him, maybe it's the ridiculousness of the situation. but whatever it is, it made you get a fiendish chuckle from your professor.

"it just doesn't happen. do you hate me? did i do something to you?"

"no, sir, i'm just a shy person"

"why the face?" he points at his own face, and makes a sulky face that you think is supposed to be mimicking your face.

you shrug your shoulders and smile in disbelief. "it's just my face! sir, if it matters to you, i think you're great. i enjoy your lectures, and i promise i'll be more active from now on" you wave your hands and get up to leave. gojo follows after you.

he lays a hand on your shoulder to keep you still.

"that's not it, is it? you missed something"

"e-excuse me?" what the fuck is wrong with this guy?

"tell me i'm handsome" gojo looks into your eyes. his piercing gaze makes you freeze in place. his face is too close to yours, you feel even more embarrassed to know he can see you blushing.

"t-that's not very appro-"

"oh come on! i know you want to say it" he smiles.

hypocrite.

you are a hypocrite. if this was any other person, you would have been scared shitless. yet here you are; heart beating fast, empty minded, an uncomfortable wetness growing stronger.

the sexual tension is so strong. you feel nervous, whatever you say will break the tension or make it reach its breaking point. and you don't know which one you prefer.

you stay silent.

gojo looks into your big eyes, face so close that you wonder if he'll kiss you anytime soon.

"if you're not gonna admit, i'll help you with it" he steps back. "sit on the desk" he orders, voice dark and strong. you stand in disbelief. gojo walks over to his desk while slowly taking off his watch. "you comin' or not?"

you walk over to his desk and sit obediently. your legs are closed, your nervousness can be read from your posture.

"don't be shy, you're in good hands" gojo suddenly kneels and places his palms on your knees. he looks up at you with puppy eyes. "may i?"

you bite the inside of your cheeks and nod. you unbutton your pants and rest your palms next to you. satoru grabs the hem of your baggy jeans. you lift yourself as satoru easily takes your jeans off. your baby pink, cotton panties are exposed in a comical way. satoru laughs at the contrast; your heavy and dark makeup, resting bitch face, and all black clothes hide pretty pink underwear under it. and satoru feels like one hell of a lucky man to be able to witness this.

satoru slides his hand in between your legs and lightly separates them, exposing your sopping panties. satoru's delighted to see you as excited as him. after all, you seemed scared at first.

his soft, juicy lips lay soft kisses all across your plump skin as he makes his way up to your panties. his demeanor suddenly changes, and he rips your panties beastly. one hand lowers your body further to reveal your folds better. satoru doesn't wait another second.

gojo licks your folds, all the way from your hole to cilit. his tongue masterfully dances around the delicate skin, and runs around your clit. your shy moans fill the office room. you cherish the view below you. his broad shoulders are about to rip through his expensive shirt, white hair buried between your legs, long fingers gripping your legs firmly. he plants a firm kiss on top of your clit that makes you shiver. he sucks on the delicate skin and leaves it with a tiny plop sound. he continues untill you're a moaning mess. and god, you hate to admit this, but she was right. he knows how to fuck good.

"gosh, do you do this to all of your students?" the sudden adrenaline rush takes over you, but the embarrassment follows quickly after. for a second, you're scared he'll get mad and stop, but he doesn't.

"i don't. but don't think you'll be my favorite student after this or something" he looks at you with half lidded eyes.

his warm tongue fucks your wet hole until you feel weak in your knees. you wonder how good his cock feels if he can entertain you this much with his tongue. his tongue pushes inside your hole, letting your sweet juices roll down to his throat. he's so amused at how much you're enjoying yourself, it makes his excitement only grow harder. in a few seconds, he'll fuck you till you can't walk out his office.

"s-sir!" you squirm with his touch.

"yes?" he looks up in a mischievious manner and makes gesture at you, as if you were raising a hand to speak. you roll your head back and laugh before grabbing his hair and pushing him back in.

satoru lays a flat tongue on your clit. the pressure is enough to make your legs twitch. he holds himself there for a moment, waiting for your to beg for more. and you do, you really do.

satoru runs his tongue up and down on your clit, making the pointy tip of his tongue push the skin further as he runs his tongue back up with each lap. the pointy tip draws circles around your clit, around and around. god, he feels so good. he might even cum if he continues more. it's the first time he's ever felt so good giving head to someone. your helpless little squeaks, your shy face and confident hand buried in his hair...

knock knock

you quickly turn around to face the door

"professor gojo? i brought the books" a male voice calls. "can i come in?"

gojo gets up with a sinical smirk on his face, and gently pushes you by your back down.

"give me a second!" he shouts at the door as he takes off his belt and lays it under the desk. he sits down on his chair and calls you down with his two fingers. you instantly obey, kneeling down to his knee level. gojo pushes his chair further under the desk so that you can't be seen. you quickly unbutton his jeans before gojo calls the man inside.

you grab the hem of his underwear and push it down to expose his hard cock. it's dark, your view is limited, but you make the best of it. you hear footsteps get closer, so you hold your breath. you hesitate, you're terrified of getting caught.

"so, about tomorrow's meeting..." a faint voice fills your surroundings. your heart beats fast, and your hands shakily grab his tip.

gojo's surprised at this hesitation. maybe you really do need some help after all. he pretends to listen to what the man is yammering away about. he sneaks his hand down to table and cautiously pushes your head to mouth his length. the sudden push startles you, but it gives you the push you needed.

once gojo's palm leaves your head, you start slowly taking in his dick. you hear him exhale casually, before he responds to the man. he's big, so it takes you a while to fully take him inside. you pull your head back, and lick along his cock.

"...so i figured we would go with another plan..." gojo continues. once you swirl your tongue around his tip, licking the thick precum, finally getting a taste of him. you hear his voice shake for a second. satoru pretends to cough. he must be sensitive on his tip, you figure, and focus on teasing his tip.

you start rubbing his length where your mouth can't reach. every time you release his cock, you quickly swirly your tongue on his tip so that he shakes slightly, making him shift in his chair to not expose your affair to the clueless man. you repeat: suck, pump, release, twirl. suck, pump, release, twi-

satoru spasms on his chair once again as your tongue touches his tip. you think he's cumming for a moment, but those thoughts disappear once you feel a strong hand grab you by your hair, pulling you away from his cock.

"see you tomorrow, satoru" the man says before he leaves the room. with the door closing, satoru pulls back. in a moment, you find yourself picked up like a cat and sat on the table.

"you think you're funny?" gojo growls. "teasing me like that? in front of my colleague?" his eyebrows are furrowed and jaw is clenched. he looks terrifying.

"i-i thought you wanted me to-"

"getting spoiled, hm? do you need to be disciplined?" it's almost as if gojo was searching for a reason to be mad at you, to fuck you like you mean nothing to him.

before you could respond, gojo discards your crop top and leaves you bare chested and cold. satoru can't decide whether the twitching of his dick is caused by the shock of you not wearing a bra to meet your professor or how arousing your perky, plump tits look in front of him. whatever it is, it's enough to make his beasty look go darker.

gojo hisses with what feels like frustration. he wants you, he wants you now, and he cannot waste another second. in a moment, you're pressed down onto the desk, on your chest with two strong hands pulling your ass up high. the wooden desk is warm, yet the hotness of your body combined with the cooler desk makes your body shiver. it doesn't help that gojo's teasing your entrance with his tip either. you whine under his touch, signaling him to go further in. he's amused at your neediness. you want to use your words, but you end up only being able to whine and groan. it's cute, adorable. satoru wonders how you'd be once he's done with you.

"what should i do?" gojo teases. he places his tip in your entrance, only for your hole to stretch enough to take the head in. the feeling is overwhelming even now, and you know it will hurt once he fully inserts himself.

well, they don't say curiosity kills the cat for no reason.

"p-please, f-fuck..." you whisper, tears pooling in your eyes slowly as frustration and tension grow bigger.

"hm? what was that?" gojo leans in closer to your face, making his cock enter a little more. you whimper with the new feeling. it's more painful, yet somehow very intimate.

"p-please..." you quietly respond again.

"we talked this through. speak up, don't be shy!"

you squeeze the papers scattered on the table, trying to from words, but your mind is blank.

"embarrassed? if it helps, princess, no one can hear you" gojo whispers. the irony. gojo satoru, the nonchalant extrovert that warns you in a craven tone; and you, the shy, anxious little girl, soon screaming your lungs out, begging him to fuck you.

"god, just fuck me!" you scream. it's the start gojo needed, and finally, he can unleash himself into you.

gojo slides his length inside without waiting for you to adjust to him fully. your walls stretch and shrink within a second, as he pulls himself almost completely before entering himself fully once again. your wet hole takes him fully, squeezing every inch of his thick cock. your walm, velvety walls make gojo dizzy with pleasure. his voice switches from manly groans to helpless whimpers. and you, gosh, you're a complete mess. your hair falls over your face, but you're too busy getting railed into oblivion to pick it up. you helplessly grab the edges of the desk in an attempt to gather yourself, but it's no use. the only thing you can do is scream out his name, the only thing you can think of.

"fuck..." gojo hisses into your ear. he grabs a fistful of your hair, finally opening your face. he grabs you closer to his chest and holds you in position by your throat as he uses his other hand to help you catch the rhythm of his thrusts. your back instantly arches, and you need to hold on to his tighs to not fall off. you gasp for breath as he mercilessly pounds into you behind your back. the slapping sounds are too far away from you. your vision gets blurry. it feels good, it shouldn't feel good, but it does. he moves as if he wants to hurt you, to take revenge. he's ruthless, contrary to how softly he kissed your cunt and how sweet he called your name earlier.

"yeah? feels good, hm?" gojo turns your face to his. your wet eyelashes, red cheeks wet with tears, mouth shiny with saliva... what a view he had. and him; his white hair always perfectly in place is now all over his forehead, sweat glistening his long neck, and tight muscles showing under the thin fabric of his shirt. and his eyes... his eyes screaming wildly, violently; yet his gaze is soft and caring. gojo realizes too, as he loosens his grip on your neck, and slows down his tempo. you inhale, cheeks puffed up and head slightly tilted back. gojo takes advantage of the vulnerability of the moment. satoru's soft lips lock with yours in a passionate kiss. he holds your chin in place, and you help him by grabbing his wrist. his tongue dances over yours, and all over your lips. wetness covers your lips. it's messy, you both miss your lips as satoru continues thrusting, but it's more romantic this way. you're both craving each other, something neither of you had realized before this exact moment. your heart beats even faster for a second, as you want to be like this forever. even with his most violent desire, he's so caring and romantic. you know it's all meaningless, that none of these matter, and that your affair will meet its end once he decides he's had enough. so you want to be in this moment forever.

"don't stop" you breathe in his mouth and look into his eyes. satoru's cock twitches inside you, his pace slows down. he slips himself out. did you say something wrong? did he realize what he's doing?

you look at him, confused. satoru's face is impossible to read, he just stands there looking at you. the sudden silence makes you anxious once again. you back up and hit your leg into the desk.

satoru grabs you by your leg as you almost lose your balance. he gently pushes you down by your shoulders and sits you down. he lowers his body before grabbing your knees and making you wrap them around his hips. he unbuttons his shirt but doesn't take it off. his toned abs are finally exposed. you examine every curve on his body, his chest.

satoru locks his lips with yours again. he's softer now. it's like he's known you since forever, like his tongue knows how it's supposed to move inside your mouth. this time, you don't shiver, but a warmness follows down your spine. you cusp his cheek as you deepen the kiss.

there you are, warm light framing your bodies under the sunset, bodies locked. where you end is where satoru begins. your bodies move in harmony. he gently rolls his hips into you, and you lift your hips to meet his. not leaving each others' embrace for a second. what happened so suddenly? is this the beast you were so scared of?

"yes... yes..." you moan into his mouth.

"yeah? you like it, baby?" he asks with a soft voice. you move your head and bury it into his neck. you grab his broad shoulders under his shirt tightly, making sure you're gentle. but you can't help it, you're about to snap. you dig your nails into his skin. he pants and moans into your ear. his voice gets shaky, he sounds so pathetically needy. you realize he needs you as much as you need him.

satoru holds you closer to his chest and embraces you as he fucks through your climax. his steady pace strengthens the tightness down your abdomen. you feel the tingling travel all over your body, as you beg satoru to continue.

"you close, baby? want me to finish inside you, hm?" he asks with a raspy voice. he already knows the answer.

"sa-satoru..." you breathe into his skin.

"look into my eyes" he calls your name. "fuck, look at my eyes"

you tilt your head and meet his glassy, baby blue eyes. he looks so vulnerable in this moment. satoru kisses you once more before he rests his forehead onto yours. his steady pace doesn't change, as you both wait to reach the end.

the knot inside your body tightens and tightens, until it's impossible to stand it. your body spasms under him, and you can only call out his name.

"satoru!" you squirm, not leaving his touch for a second.

"come on baby, cum for me" he pants. "my pretty little girl, you're doing so good"

you let out one last shaky breath and lose control. you shake and spasm, but satoru holds you tightly in place. he rides your climax, as he chases his own. he plants soft kisses all over your face as you lose your mind. your whole body's tingly, mind fuzzy, and numb. you stay there, watching satoru's breath get faster.

you grab both of his cheeks and look into his eyes. you don't look away or move, you hold him in place. his shiny eyes look into yours, amazed at how beautiful you are, how pretty you are for him. and how you're his, in this moment, he's yours.

satoru moves hips further once more before his thrusts stop. his moves come to a full stop. he doesn't avert his gaze, as he slaps his hips into you once more. the warmness washes over you as he empties himself deep inside you. satoru whispers your name, followed by a shaky moan. he stands still for a second, lets his cock rest inside you for a moment as you both stand in silent. he's lost in your embrace, and so are you.

all your anxieties from earlier wash away. he's right, he definitely made sure you like him. and all the papers you ruined, the ones he's supposed to show his students, he will have to think about later.

"you really are very handsome"

gojo's comeback might have taken shorter than mine, but hey, better late than never right? lol anyways, sorry for the long wait and sorry, this isn't the unboxing smut. i suddenly felt the urge to write another jjk teacher/student fic but it's a little more legal now at least. i'm also obsessed with gojo again. hope you enjoyed your meal! (ok but why do my snopsises lowkey eat harder than the fic itself)

this was... easier than i thought it would be. i missed writing so much and haven't felt this much fun and ease writing anything in such a long time! i'm so excited for jjk season 2 and the manga's progress. i think this is another jjk summer yall. also, i'm doing an unofficial internship this summer! so, since i like being active when i'm busy with daily life stuff, who knows, i might become active again

hope you guys liked it! see you next time you horny emo slut ʕ•́ᴥ•̀ʔっ

[nectardaddy]

YOU'D NEVER KNOW . . . k. sugawara + f! reader

♬ mentally exhausted // she don't recognize herself yet // and it's getting too much to bear // but it's hard to tell by looking at her // she seems so well put together // you'd never know

                   ✩ you'd never know, evan honer 

₊˚. notes/CWs : hurt/comfort, depression + anxiety, panic attack, nausea/feelings of wanting to vomit, feelings of self loathing, reader is a teacher, not proofread, self shippy as fuck I'm sorry, this felt good to write so just…don't perceive me

 Her fingers hurt from the tight hold on the sink. Knuckles tensed and hands in an ironclad grip on the porcelain; the chips and dings on the side dug into the exposed skin of her hand, leaving small indentations and bruises from holding on for dear life.

Her chest was sore, her throat scratchy and hoarse, as each deep breath hurt worse than the last. In and out - what her therapist taught her. But she didn't believe her therapist had ever taught a room full of ten year olds, nor did she believe the professional would ever be stupid enough to do so. The deep breaths never worked. Filling up exhausted lungs with hot air could never be the solution to her problems.

Too many things to do, and not enough time.

For a moment she thought this was time wasted, bent over the sink heaving for air. Gasping and gulping for just a single, peaceful, deep breath. But she let the thought pass as soon as it came - she was always wasting time.

‘You're an asshole.’

‘I hate you.’

‘Why can't we do anything fun?’

‘Do we have to do this? Is this for a grade?’

‘Are your plans done for next week?’

‘What did you do for that child to act out like that?’

‘Remember your why.’

‘My child would never do that.’

‘You need to get a 70% passing rate or we'll lose our accreditation. We're counting on you!’

A never ending slew of questions, insults, assumptions, and standoffish statements landed her to the chasms of her own mind. Hunched over the bathroom sink, and fighting the urge to vomit. A swirling, dark, nauseating pit fell to her stomach like a rock in the morning and remained there all day; only now was she allowed to feel it. Only now, in the comfort of a rundown apartment bathroom, was she allowed to set the emotion free from a happy-faced facade that made her skin crawl, that felt wrong in every regard, and was a complete and utter lie.

She had gotten home five minutes ago, held the pulled taught feeling so strongly until the moment she stepped through the threshold. It was a crumbling tower from there on out. Cracked, broken, and out right destroyed as soon as she managed to push herself to the bathroom. Tears slipped down hot, frustrated, cheeks until the stream became a broken dam. Gushing and never ending - a nightmare to those in its wake. She cried in anger, in sadness, in grief - pure desperation to feel something other than exhausted.

She didn't hear the door open and shut softly, too focused on the task of taking a full inhale (that she never could get) to hear it. Didn't register the thud of a bag hitting the ground, or the confused call of her name. Her mind too warped with a sense of self loathing to even comprehend that there was a gentle knock on the door before it creaked open.

Her appearance was lackluster and bleak; jostled professional attire now wrinkled and blotted with tears. But Sugawara knew the feelings the woman felt all too well: a deep pit of loathing and wanting, teetering the line of desperation and outright giving up, just before the last crack feathered out and caused chaos and mass destruction.

Her eyes flickered up to the mirror in front of her, dusty and speckled with dots of dried water - neither of them had the energy to clean it in weeks, and locked eyes with familiar brown ones. Brown ones that swam and dipped in concern and adoration, feelings she wished others would look at her with.

She watched him look over her a moment, brows knitted together before his eyes softened. “Hug? Or not yet?” Asked softly, and in second nature. The pair had a prior agreement to leave the fleeting touches for later, when they both had time to settle back into their own skin. Nothing was worse than an argument caused by overstimulation, and words spoken in anger that could've been resolved by a simple question such as this.

“Hug.”

A single word was all the man needed to engulf her in warmth.

Sugawara taught second grade, while she taught older. And to this, she thought as if the lingering smell of crayons and glue would always be a part of him. Stitched into the seams of his clothes every time he got home, soaked into his skin the moment he walked in the door until he showered. But it became a smell she associated with peace, with serenity - with love.

His arms wrapped around her and pulled her close, like a missing puzzle piece that had finally been found. And he remained stationary, unwavering, as she closed her eyes and tried to hide herself amongst his sweater. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“It'll turn into a two hour rant if I do,” she whispered, voice almost incoherent as she spoke into the fabric above his chest.

“You could go on for four and I'd still listen.”

She paused, and for a split second the nausea disappeared. His words flipped the breaker in her mind before it turned off once more, and the need to spill her guts punched her in the stomach again. Her hands gripped the wool fabric of his sweater tightly when the feeling returned, and fingers went numb as she remained tense.

“I don't know if I can keep this up, Kou. I'm so tired.” Her voice wavered and broke, another crack in her overall appearance that made his heart sink further.

“I know,” he breathed. “I know you are.” A blanket statement that he knew right down to the roots. An exhaustion that, really, no one could understand unless they too were in the profession. A tired that swam in shallow veins, and dipped into the psyche - driving one mad.

“Everything I do, and every choice I make is wrong to someone and I'm just so sick of it.” She groaned, “and I'm so sick of being told to ‘remember your why’ to legitimate concerns about something.” He hummed before she continued on, “I don't feel appreciated at all.” Her voice dropped once more, before she let out a shaky sigh, “by anyone.” She felt him rest his chin on her shoulder, and he let out a gentle sigh. Not knowing what to say to make the situation better, as he knew nothing truly would - a broken system would remain fractured whether he despised it or not.

“I appreciate you more than anything.” His voice was quiet, knowing if he spoke any louder it would rile her even more. “And I don't need a why, I just need you.”

taglist

@causenessus @softpia @renardiererin @kodzu-ken @phoenix-eclipses

@wyrcan @honeekyuu @wakashudou @wolffmaiden @eggyrocks 

@yogurtkags @bakery-anon @totallytatum @mollyrolls @aozui 

@jadeoru @hyunteru @kameyyy @nekozaki @sandwhitches 

@angelichwv @a-girl-cant-decide-on-a-name @crypt-0rchid

[cremedensada]

I’m gonna need general hcs on interactions with the boy next door… like what if we just moved to town and we first meet him as we’re moving in… Also can they be in like highschool? I don’t know if that’s already the gist but yeah. She’s moving in with her mom and he’s there…

Yandere Boy Next Door

sorry anon i think i went way to far away from what you wanted shdhdh also theyre senior high school students (grade 11 - 12) which is like, two preparatory years for college. so theyre adults bc im much more comfortable with that :33

btw his name is lukas !! he's named now

male yandere + gender neutral darling/reader

lukas is easily approachable - he's got that warmth about him that just draws people in. it's all practiced to maintain his popularity though.

he's also a huge people-pleaser, despite the fact he easily gets burnt out and has his social battery drained.

so when his mom asked him to be a dear and help the new neighbor's kid on their way around the school + neighborhood, he just couldn't say no

sure he's tired, possibly close to having another breakdown just thinking about being pestered by fellow students for answers to homeworks and other menial stuff, but he still manages to say yes and give her another perfectly practiced smile

when he goes over to the house next to theirs - the ones you moved in to, you had no lasting impression on him

now, don't be mistaken, he does think you're good looking but at the end of the day he'd much rather curl up in bed and sleep

so he puts up that perfectly crafted persona and invites you to head to school with him. a new environment is much easier to deal with when you're not dealing with it by yourself! (or something like that)

he tries not to be overbearing, trying to get you to open up while also making sure he's respecting your boundaries and comfort as you made your way inside the school gates

you don't share the same classes, so he asks you for your time table so he knows your schedule

he hopes he's not being creepy or anything, he's just making sure your first day transferring here goes well

sure he's known for being a caring person in general but he does feel like it's his responsibility to make sure you're doing well you know? you're neighbors now, you guys should get along!

it's smooth sailing until it's time you guys finally went home

like that morning, he waits for you and invites you to walk home with him to familiarize with the shortcuts and local lounging spots for students

all the while he tries to get you to talk about your experience today

it must be due to the amount of stress piled up on his plate that lead him to feel... nervous.

his perfect persona cracking as his calm demeanour and collected way of talking slowly devolved into nervous tangents talking about anything at all

were you displeased? his perfection was practiced and polished since he was a kid, was it still not enough for you?

he could handle disappointing people a lot better now but paired with his currently leaning towards unstable, your displeasure is something that's slowly tearing him from the inside

he's jolted out of his thoughts when you suddenly speak up.

"thanks for showing me around. i thought i was going to struggle getting used to things all by myself."

you smiled up at him. "so... yeah. you're... okay."

his heart thumped.

everywhere all around him feels a ton of degrees warmer.

"...okay." lukas was tongue tied.

on the remainder of the journey back home, he walked you to your house, ensuring you got inside safely before making a beeline towards their house and into his room.

normally at this hour he'd be passed out in bed, tired after a whole day of pretending and smiling. today was perhaps the first time he didn't go to bed with his cheeks hurting and aching from smiling so much.

laying in bed, making an excuse as to why he's not going to be joining for dinner, just thinking about you and your words.

lukas grew up living to the standards of being perfect. a perfect son. a perfect student. a perfect friend.

anything less is... unacceptable to say the least. when you do or think of something so often in your day to day life, it becomes a habit. and lukas' habit is perfection.

but you thought he was okay.

okay.

suddenly 'okay' sounds much better than being perfect.

suddenly your opinion towards him becomes much more important than anyone else's.

lukas is a people pleaser, and onwards from that moment, the only 'people' he will ever want to please is you.

i hope this is sufficient? i'm actually v sleepy rn lol but thank you for the idea!

[ladykailitha]

Paper Hearts Part 5

I have no restraint. I have NO restraint. I HAVE NO RESTRAINT!!! So guess who starting writing a SEQUEL to this because she was feeling too sad to write Sweet Home Indiana? Yup! I would apologize, but this story is too cute for words.

We have a mild panic attack about the ending of the chapter from Steve, Eddie's plan, and Steve accepting an offer that made mostly in jest, but also in deep earnest.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

TAG LIST IS CLOSED!!!

But if the people on my list that haven't interacted on my stuff lately don't reply by Sunday slots may open up. So don't despair just yet if you want to be on the list and can't.

****

Steve banged his head on his locker in frustration. Why did he do that? Why did he tell Eddie he was interested in boys, too? Why did he trust the other boy to have his back? Especially when no one else seemed to.

He sighed.

He wrenched open his locker and a little pink heart fluttered to the floor. He frowned as he picked it up.

They weren’t going to hand out the hearts until Valentine’s Day so what was this then?

-Stevie

I like the way you’re kind even when it doesn’t benefit you.

Kas

Steve blinked down at the little heart in confusion. It wasn’t the exactly the same color as the hearts they were going to give out for the holiday. But it was close. He rubbed his thumb over the sender’s name.

Kas.

He knew it wasn’t a real name, having recently poured over the yearbook. So it had to be a reference to something, but what he didn’t know. He stuck it in his jacket pocket and grabbed what he needed for his next class, vowing to worry about it later.

As he sat in his chemistry class waiting for it to start he pulled it out of his pocket to look at it again. The pen was red ink and bold. Steve found himself smiling at the strange little pink heart.

Suddenly it was ripped out of his hand.

His head snapped up to see Tommy H. standing there with it in his hand. “Someone is sending Harrington Valentine’s hearts?”

“Give it back, Tommy,” Steve growled. “It’s none of your business. Not anymore.”

Tommy looked him in the eye before tossing it to the ground and walking off. “Whatever.”

Steve bent over to pick it up.

“Some girl named Kassy or whatever,” Tommy was telling Nicole. “Could be anyone from the younger grades.”

“I suppose so,” she said, tossing her red hair over her shoulder. “But anyone with sense would know he’s the plague now.”

Tina rolled her eyes. “Just because he refuses to suck either of you two off doesn’t mean he’s still not the hottest guy in school.”

Tommy rounded on her and called her a bitch.

She just scoffed and swung back around just as the teacher walked into the room. The tardy bell rang and he called the class to order, effectively squashing all gossip.

Steve ducked his head to hide his smile. He might feel a bit bitter that it was her party that Nancy threw their relationship in his face at, but it wasn’t her fault his girlfriend had gotten so pissed drunk that she lost her ironclad control. And right now he was feeling especially grateful to her for that comment.

He managed to get through his class just from riding that high alone.

His last class was algebra and it really should have been made illegal by now. The way the numbers and letters seemed to float off of the page as he struggled to parse their meaning. He just had to pass one quarter of this shit and he could graduate.

So he put his head down to learn and just suffer through it.

After school, he got to his locker and knelt down to open it.

Again a pink heart fluttered out of it. But this time it had a couple of friends. Steve stuck them in his jacket pocket again and exchanged books. He grabbed his English and history homework so that he could get them done for tomorrow.

He opened the back door of his car and threw in his backpack. He went to open his door when Eddie was suddenly at his side.

He leaned up against the door, preventing Steve from opening it.

“So the king swings for both teams?” he asked, crossing his arms over his chest.

Steve looked around, but they were alone for the most part, so he just shrugged. “Some guys are hot and for some reason I can’t fathom, I trust you not have it all over the school by lunch tomorrow.”

Eddie chuckled and crossed his legs at the ankles. “I wouldn’t do that to ya.”

“Yeah and why would that be?” Steve asked turning around and sticking his hands in his front pockets.

“That would be because it would be hypocritical of me to go spreading around the school someone likes guys,” he said, bumping their shoulders together.

Steve looked at him for a long time before he nodded. “You know by now I don’t put much stock into rumors. I did that once and got my shit rocked for it. Lesson learned, man.”

“I heard about the infamous Byers left hook,” Eddie agreed. “That was some pretty major shit rocking.”

The jock rolled his eyes. “I’m pretty sure he was my first concussion.”

The older boy looked up at the sky as he thought about it and then nodded. “Billy Hargrove would be round two, I’m assuming?”

Steve nodded and then threw his head back. “This year has gone from bad to worse and I’m barely keeping my head above water.”

Eddie hummed his agreement. It really has seemed like Steve couldn’t catch a break. “I feel that. I’m really struggling this year. Last year I didn’t graduate because I so focused on getting out of here, making it with my music that I forgot the promise I made to my mom that I would. Graduate I mean. But this year is just hell.”

“That sucks, Eds,” he agreed.

“You think you’re going to graduate?”

“God, I hope so,” Steve murmured, collapsing against the side of his car. “I just want to get out of this town.”

Eddie chuckled and shook his head. “Where would you even go, man?”

“I’d pick a direction and just drive for as long as I could,” he admitted softly. “I just need to be as far away from this place as I can.”

The metalhead nodded. “If we both graduate we should hop into my van and just run for the coast.”

Steve smiled fondly. “I think I’d like that.”

Eddie pushed himself off the car and then waved Steve goodbye.

The younger boy got into his car with a sigh of relief. Not only did Eddie promise not to out him, he came out to Steve, too. Now it was mutually assured destruction.

Steve smiled and started the car for home. Maybe this year was starting to get a little better.

****

Eddie shoved his hands in his back pockets as he made his way to his van. He didn’t know what possessed him to ask Steve to runaway with him or what possessed Steve to agree but it left a warm fuzzy feeling in his chest.

He hauled himself into the van and sat there for a moment just thinking about it. Of course that meant graduating himself, so he would have to focus on that. His van roared to life and he drove off.

It took him a couple of tries but he finally found the construction paper he needed. He had even found some black construction paper that he was going to use to make little paper bats to tape on the inside of his locker to make it less miserable.

Especially as he was told he couldn’t have his metal band posters up in there. They were too “evil” and “Satanic” and he should be more “Christ like” as if they were epitome of Christian virtue with all the hate they had for anyone not like them.

But Eddie got down to work and started making as many pink hearts as he could. He had thought briefly about adding a couple of red hearts in the mix, but he thought that was a step too far. He didn’t want to get Steve’s hopes up that he had multiple crushes on him if that wasn’t true.

He still planned on giving Steve his one red heart that he had bought. That wasn’t in question. He had already filled it out and returned it to the great big baskets that had been in the main hall.

It simply read:

Stevie,

You make being in this town worth living in,

Love,

Kas

He let out a slow shuddering breath. That was one of the scariest things he had to do since choosing to live with an uncle he had only met twice his entire life over being in the system. He knew his life was infinitely greater being with Uncle Wayne and he hoped this would yield a similar result.

Because he had made a promise and with all signs pointing toward Steve at least being receptive to a date, he had to shoot his shot and hope for the best.

He had made roughly fifty or so of the pink hearts and set about dividing them into four piles. With Jeff, Gareth, and Brian offering to help with the friendship hearts he wanted to make sure everyone got a few of them. Plus it made it easier to come up with things. Because even if they came up with similar ideas, they at least would be phrased slightly different so Steve wouldn’t figure it out.

He also had the idea of using pseudonyms so that it wasn’t all anonymous and initials, though there would some of those too.

But it was time for band practice, so he gathered up his things and the hearts and trotted off to his van, a wave and goodbye to Wayne on his way out.

****

Steve finally opened the other three hearts. Two were anonymous but the third surprisingly was from Tina.

It read it in the tiniest print that was still legible:

Steve,

I know we’re supposed to turn these in or whatever,

But I just wanted to say you’re still A-OK in my book.

-Tina

He blushed. That was nice of her and after she stuck up for him in chemistry, he was feeling a little better about himself.

The other two were just as sweet if a tad unusual in their delivery. The first one said:

Steve,

I’m sorry you lost your crown,

you kept the bullies from being their worst selves.

And the other read:

Steve,

You are a good dude.

Sorry people are shit right now.

Steve shook his head. They were well-tended, he had no doubt but they were odd. Like they were trying to find something nice to say and didn’t know how to word it.

Which, fair.

He knew he had a hard time coming up with complements for the twenty girls he’d picked out for his little project. He had to make sure the message wasn’t creepy or would come across as stalker-y.

He smiled down at the messages. He pulled out a little notebook that he had used to collect all the little things that the kids had given him over the past couple years and put the hearts on their own little page. He carefully put the book back, hidden between two textbooks from his freshman year.

“Steven!” his mom called. “We’re home!”

“Coming, Mom!” he cried, hurrying down the stairs.

****

Part 6 Part 7 Part 8

Tag List: Closed

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[fawnprincessblog]

𝒜𝓃𝓰𝓮𝓁'𝓈 𝒹𝓮𝓋𝓮𝓁𝓸𝓅𝓂𝓮𝓃𝓉 𝒹𝒾𝒶𝓇𝓎.

(part 1: 'the praise and some coffee') type: slow burn, fluff (tom kaulitz 2015 × fem reader)

includes : teacher × student, childish annoying immature school girl who's name is Angel (you), teacher tom, wannabe teacher's pet, age gap. tom is 25, angel is 17. plot : angel, a young, childish and innocent honour student was shunned by her schoolmates due to her being a teacher's pet, but none of that mattered whenever she ran into her favorite teacher, Tom, that she so deeply admired, who she swears on her life she will serve until the day she dies. despite being favourited by many other teachers, tom does not favour her due to her clingy behaviour. she may be smart but her hormones play a huge part in her schooling life as well.

bambi's note! : hello sweeties :3 i don't really wanna explain much but i think you guys will be sick of hearing the same lame excuse to why i disappear quite frequently. writer block makes me want to suicide sometimes, i've been trying my hardest to write, this took me months to finally put tgt. crazy that it's short too. i have drafts from last year in my docs. im also an art student, so it makes it hard to tackle both things rn. anyway, have fun reading part one of 'Angel's development diary ' :3

“Everyone now turn to page 74,” Tom instructs, his voice sharp and echoing across the classroom. The whole room was silent, only he could be heard. Nobody would disrespect a man like him, for he was rather strict, and serious, his only intention being to get his point across and educate his students. That’s what the majority saw in him. 

Well, except for one person. That was Angel. The honour student of her class.

Angel saw what other people did not care about. Despite being the very sophisticated and refined teacher everyone knew, to her he was so much more. Tom was a young, 25 year-old Maths teacher. She admired that strong body structure of his, and the way his face features all fit together. The way his hair was always worn in a messy bun, a few strands poking out the front, had just added to his good looks. He wasn’t over-dressed, like those wannabe scientists-looking teachers in her physics classes; he was rather usually seen in t-shirts. On special occasions, she got to see him in a suit. 

He wasn’t the kind to play around. He expected all his students to pass his class with flying colours, not one left behind. In fact, all teachers wished the same. In such a popular and very high-class school, of course every single student had to be well-behaved and supremely knowledgeable.

The school Angel went to was one with a high standard of academic and extracurricular achievements. It has a strong emphasis on academics and often has a highly selective acceptance rate, which makes it difficult to get in. She was quite lucky. The campus has beautiful architecture, state-of-the-art facilities, and ample resources for students' academic and personal development. The faculty members are very well-educated and experienced in their respective fields, and the school often has a high student-teacher ratio. The students are often from wealthy families with a strong academic focus, and the school often boasts a high graduation rate. 

Coming from such a school that was great and had put Angel’s reputation in great hands meant no mistakes were to be made at all. She had to maintain her good grades. And one thing is for sure: she couldn’t possibly keep having dirty thoughts about her teacher. 

“Hey, you,” Tom called out, snapping his fingers twice. “Angel?” 

She snapped out of her trance almost immediately, a little startled by his tone. “Oh—yes?” she responds, heat evidently rising in her cheeks the moment he had called out her name. Oh, when he said her name, it only served to heighten her arousal. His voice was so strong and firm, it made her squirm in her seat like a damn worm. All those dirty thoughts wouldn’t go away. 

“Are you gonna pay attention? Or is daydreaming the only thing you like to do?” Tom asked, folding his muscular arms across his chest, staring right into her soul. He had this scary glare that usually put most students in fear, but to her, it was attractive. His dominant demeanour when teaching a lesson made her imagine all these horrendous things, like how he was in bed. 

“N-No—! Um, I was listening,” Angel responds, clearing her throat. She shifted a little in her seat, tugging at the hem of her red plaid skirt. She was wet. So uncomfortably wet and aroused, she would’ve probably left a stain on the chair if she had gotten up.

“I hope so,” Tom grunted, turning back to the chalkboard to continue writing those endless amounts of Math sums. It was overwhelming to look at; all of the numbers bunched together, the dusty residue of the chalk making it even worse. It was a lot to take in, however that was just how it was. 

His teaching continued, his voice loud and clear. Angel diligently started writing down her notes, trying to keep up with his pace. Being such a good student, she had become fond of his teachings, and she was expected to have one of the highest marks among the rest, even if everyone else was already good. 

An honour student. That’s what she was. Supposedly, she was the teacher’s pet. 

She did well, joined every possible club and involved herself in every school event, making sure she was obtaining high merit points that boosted her reputation in her school. Angel was simply a good little girl that most teachers did like, but the other students, and for some reason, Tom, did not like her. They found her exasperating. 

The bell rings. Class is over, and Tom is preparing a stack of worksheets to hand out to the class on the way out. “Alright class, tomorrow I wanna see all your worksheets full of numbers. All correct and no mistakes. I believe I’ve taught you all enough on this topic, so I expect perfect answers,” he announces. “You can pack up and leave now.” 

“Sir!” Angel calls out, rising from her seat abruptly, making everyone else pause from their packing up. Majority rolled their eyes. “You forgot to take attendance. Usually you take attendance every morning before class but since you forgot the checklist you said you would—”

“Right, right, okay,” Tom interrupts, an exasperated sigh followed right after. Clearly, he was pissed. Angel was quite aware that he disliked her try-hard behaviour, in fact, she was aware everyone did. Of course as an honour student she was made to please the teachers with good grades and behaviour, but the other students knew clearly she acted the most clingy around Tom. She saw past his strict demeanour and she acted like a child around him. Always trying to point out the simplest things, always reminding him about his meetings, always trying to get him his coffee, always trying to help him out at any damn chance she got— Angel was desperate and needy for his love. She was willing to make him love her. She wanted to be his favourite student. 

He notwithstanding, saw her as a confounded girl who was beating a dead horse. A try-hard, annoying, clingy little bitch that stuck to him like a damn tick. It irritated him when she acted like his little servant. 

But Angel liked it. She didn’t care. 

“Since you wanna help so much, get the checklist for me,” Tom tells her rather bluntly, clicking a pen in his hand as he speaks. Angel’s ears perk up at his request. “What? Really?” she asks, eyes full of joy. That annoying excited voice—it made his ears bleed.

“Go get it, it's in my office,” Tom says. “And hurry. Your classmates wanna leave class.” 

“Consider it done, sir!” she enthused, immediately dashing towards the door and running straight to his office. Like a little slave, she did everything for him.

Recess time. One of the times where Angel would bother her favourite teacher the most. Even if she was trying to be helpful, she usually came off as a nuisance. He was an earnest and disciplined man, always keeping up with his set schedule. During break he’d grab coffee in the teacher’s lounge, discuss some things with his colleagues, or he’d take the coffee straight to his office so he can finish up paperwork. However he wasn’t the only one who kept to his schedule…

“Hi sir,” she greeted excitedly, grinning like an idiot. She blocked him, not allowing him to continue walking through the school hallway, which was empty since everyone else was at the cafeteria. “Where will you be taking yourself to today? Do you need help with anything?

He lets out a breath, trying his hardest to not let her irritate him right now. Angel being around him was something he couldn’t possibly avoid. It was an everyday thing now. “No,” he said simply. He then looked around. “Do I look like I need help?” His tone was dripping with sarcasm. Angel could tell, but she couldn’t be bothered. 

“You may not be holding anything that I could help you carry, but there’s other things I can help with,” Angel says. “Like, your coffee. Do you want me to get your coffee?” She was just so damn innocent  acting like a maid trying to please him with every chance she got. She really acted like life was all unicorns and rainbows, like she had not a single issue in the world.

“For the last time, I can get it myself. You’ve been asking this everyday now,” Tom sighs. “Shouldn’t you be eating? It’s recess. Go eat.”

“I already have,” Angel replies with that annoying giggle right after, making him clench his jaw. She was insufferable. That giggle was ingrained into his mind. He could recognise it from a mile away. 

“Okay, good. Now if you don’t mind, you can just mov—”

“One sachet of the coffee mix, two teaspoons of sugar and some milk to top it off,” she interrupted, making him raise an eyebrow. “You use the blue mug. Always the blue mug,” she added.

“You know my coffee?” he asked, a little disturbed by her knowledge on how he liked his coffee. His eyes narrowed to slits, peering at her.

“Yep,” she replies, as if it were the most normal thing in the world. To him, she was a complete stalker at this point. “You have about 12 minutes to go to the teacher’s lounge and get your coffee, and return back to your office to finish marking off the recent test you gave us before you have to rush to the meeting you have with Mr.Harrison about the new changes we’re making to the school’s mural art.” 

“What?” he said, almost wanting to laugh in disbelief. That was way too many words for him to comprehend. “You know my schedule?” 

“Well I memorised it,” she shrugged. “Tuesday’s and Fridays you stay in your office during break. All the other days you’re eating at the teacher’s lounge.

What the hell, he thought, looking at her with the most perplexed look he’s ever plastered onto his perfect face. “What are you doing, stalking me? My schedule is printed on paper and left in the drawer of my desk—”

“It’s also printed in my mind,” she joked, pointing a finger to her temple. 

He looks at her, bewildered. Completely uneasy. He didn’t like this. He knew she always had this weird thing for him, but he didn’t think she was this peculiar, knowing his schedule and all. Tom was taken aback by her behaviour, but he remained unruffled for now. It wasn’t too surprising, since she had been doing this for a while; asking him if she could get his coffee, but he had always declined. In the past, she had been randomly reminding him about his meetings, or anything he planned to do on that day, which he also found annoying, but today she really surprised him, wording out his entire plan for today.  

He cleared his throat. “Well, I know my own schedule, I don’t need you to tell me,” he says.

“I know. You’re very smart. But, I figured you’d like help,” she says, grinning. 

He had to get rid of her. This damn pest of a student. “I don’t. Not right now. So, If you don’t mind, Angel, please move aside so I can go.” He tries to walk past her, but she stubbornly blocks him again. 

“C’mon, I’m sure you need someone to get your coffee,” Angel insisted, looking at him with those set of pathetic eyes, ones that he insanely hated to look at. She was small, pretty, and sweet, but she was tiring. He didn’t like her. “Angel…” he sighed, wanting to snap at her, but he held back; he may be strict, but there was no reason to be shouting at a student who just wanted to help so badly, right? “...Fine. Get my coffee, bring it to my office. Now.” he finally relented, looking down at her rather annoyed that he had forced himself to give in. Oh, she really had her ways. 

“Yes, sir!” Angel exclaims, smiling widely, and she dashed off, disappearing immediately. Tom folded his arms, watching the pesky little girl run off to get his coffee like a slave. She obeyed him so much, wanting to do anything just for his attention. He chuckled a little, he couldn’t help himself.

“One coffee,” she says, placing the blue ceramic mug onto his desk slowly, as if she were a waitress. Tom had been busy on his computer, going over some emails while waiting. She had returned rather quickly. Tom flashed her a faint smile, and he took the cup, taking a small sip. She had got it right. It tasted exactly like how he wanted. 

Wait for the praise, wait for the praise, Angel thought in her mind, eagerly looking at him for a positive reaction with big, innocent eyes. 

“It’s exactly how I like it, Angel,” Tom finally says, looking up at her. He noticed her small hands fidgeting with the hem of her school skirt. “Good job,” he finally praised, his voice low and soothing. 

Angel’s cheeks immediately flushed pink. Everytime he gave her praise, her arousal hit her like a brick. She couldn’t contain herself. She could already feel herself soaking her panties. “N-No problem, sir…” Angel says, her lips slowly curling into a nervous grin. She squeezed her thighs together a little, trying to contain herself. 

“You may go now,” he says. 

“Y-Yes,” she nods, bowing a little as a sign of respect. She then left.

Tom did not know the effect he had on this girl. If only he could ease that ache.

[hollowed-theory-hall]

What profession do you see Harry in? When I was younger I was adamant he would have been a professor. After reading the book again in my late 20’s I can’t see it anymore. I think he would have been a Auror because solving mysteries and catching felons would intrigue him more than dealing with a bunch of students grading papers. I think he would get bored and would resign after a year or two. I know people who love professor Harry love pointing out him teaching in Dumbledore’s Army and I think people forget he only had to do the practical part, not the theory aspect. I can’t image him reading multiple essays on the same topic. It would drive him bonkers. (Hermione would be in cloud 9 though). I love teaching my nephew and his friends how to play soccer, would I ever take it as a profession? Never. It’s a part time passion not a career. Im sure he made surprise visits to Hogwarts as a guest lecturer but that’s it. In an AU where Jily lived I could see Harry becoming a quidditch player or even taking a liking to potions because of his mom who didn’t put the bitter taste in his mouth like Snape. In canon the only two careers I could see holding his attention is curse breaker and being an Auror, purely because of the mystery of solving puzzles and being on his feet. The one thing I still agree with my younger self is Harry would have returned for his 8th year and so would have Ron. I think he needs a year to just be a kid who sneaks around the castle exploring different corridors to make out with Ginny. 

Well, I do like the idea of Harry returning to teach DADA at Hogwarts, as I mentioned here, here & here. Though, an anon did bring up a cool idea for Harry to be more of a private investigator than an auror for a few years before becoming a DADA professor. I just don't see Harry as someone who'd be good at receiving orders and working within the ministry. Like, with everything that happened with the ministry in the final 3 books, I find it kinda insane Harry chooses to work there after we spent 3+ books going over how corrupt and ineffectual they are and how much Harry dislikes it. It just feels iffy to me.

I think Harry would surprise you with his patience, honestly. I think he is very capable of reading dozens of essays about the same thing and grading them. Like, the fandom likes to forget it, but Harry read all his course books before first year:

Harry kept to his room, with his new owl for company. He had decided to call her Hedwig, a name he had found in A History of Magic. His school books were very interesting. He lay on his bed reading late into the night, Hedwig swooping in and out of the open window as she pleased. 

(PS)

He does do reading and research on his own and with Hermione when he needs/wants to:

There was much less laughter and a lot more hanging around in the library when Hermione was your best friend. Harry still hadn’t mastered Summoning Charms, he seemed to have developed something of a block about them, and Hermione insisted that learning the theory would help. They consequently spent a lot of time poring over books during their lunchtimes.

(GoF)

Harry was already hurrying up the spiral staircase to his dormitory. . . . He would grab the Invisibility Cloak and go back to the library, he’d stay there all night if he had to. ... “Lumos,” Harry whispered fifteen minutes later as he opened the library door. Wand tip alight, he crept along the bookshelves, pulling down more books — books of hexes and charms, books on merpeople and water monsters, books on famous witches and wizards, on magical inventions, on anything at all that might include one passing reference to underwater survival. He carried them over to a table, then set to work, searching them by the narrow beam of his wand, occasionally checking his watch. ...

(GoF)

Harry is so capable of sitting down and grading essays if he wants to. He's actually not averse to studying and reading at all, not on his own. He's just mirroring Ron and the other Gryffindor boys to fit in because it's what Harry does.

He'd be one of the teachers who give bonus points if a student writes something funny in their essay, I just know it.

Also, even for the DA, he actually made lesson plans:

Sirius and Lupin had given Harry a set of excellent books entitled Practical Defensive Magic and Its Use Against the Dark Arts, which had superb, moving color illustrations of all the counterjinxes and hexes it described. Harry flicked through the first volume eagerly; he could see it was going to be highly useful in his plans for the D.A.

Like, he read through Defence books and organized plans for spells to teach, in what order, and how to teach them. Harry spends a lot of time thinking about the DA in his head in OotP. About the successes of his students that he feels so proud of but also when he's gonna do the next meeting and what he'd teach.

90% of his DADA professors can't say the same.

Also, Harry actually kept track of the state of every student and applied the teaching method best for them and didn't pick favorites:

They all divided up obediently; Harry partnered Neville as usual. The room was soon full of intermittent cries of “Impedimenta!” People froze for a minute or so, during which their partners would stare aimlessly around the room watching other pairs at work, then would unfreeze and take their turn at the jinx. Neville had improved beyond all recognition. After a while, when Harry had unfrozen three times in a row, he had Neville join Ron and Hermione again so that he could walk around the room and watch the others. When he passed Cho she beamed at him; he resisted the temptation to walk past her several more times.

(OotP)

Like, the fact he wanted to pay more attention to Cho and then didn't because he knows that's not what he should do as a teacher is already better than a good chunk of Hogwarts professors (McGonagall, Snape, Dumbledore, and Slughorn all clearly have favorites).

Like, Harry is putting into the DA more effort than just showing them practically what they need to do. He spends all his lessons with Umbridge thinking about the DA. He reads and studies so he can teach them better. He put a lot of effort into it.

Not to mention Harry was dealing with the DA that included about 30 members compared to the average Hogwarts class, where a professor only needs to manage 20 students in the classroom.

As for 8th year. Yeah, I like to think he comes back. I think it'll be a good healing opportunity for him. Though, I personally do not envision him making out with Ginny since I don't like Hinny. But the idea is that the poor boy needs a break.

[empthy1]

sugar mommy!tashi bc i need her. thank you for breaking me out of my slump once again ms tashi. ms duncan. wrote this in one night, so any errors are unintentional. i can't seem to stop imbuing unnecessary amounts of worldbuilding into every single thing i write. 941 words.

Somehow, some sixteen months after taking the internship of your dreams, you ended up here—sprawled on a beach for the second day in a row, baking comfortably under the Tahitian sun after quitting said internship the week before.

Tashi didn't intend on ending up with a sugar baby. Didn't intend to be hoodwinked by a young woman ten years her junior.

Doesn't mean she didn't kickstart the process, however unintentionally.

So she showed up to your little corner cubicle eleven months ago, tugging you from your laptop by the collar of your blouse and taking you out to a far-too expensive lunch. She doesn't exactly know why, either.

She was intending to take lunch, anyway, but usually she'd just have her assistant have it delivered, still steaming, to her high-floor office. Sit, alone in the white room decorated with her accomplishments, and eat as she kept working. The magazine waited for no one, after all, and she had a deadline.

Yet, as she'd checked the employee logs sent to her every day, detailing work hours and project progress collected by her subordinates, she'd noticed far too many hours being worked by one sweet little intern.

She'd only met you once before, when she'd dropped by to introduce herself during intern orientation—as is routine. Your smile that day was different than the one shown in your employee photo. Shyer, almost bashful at the handshake she'd culled you into and at the fingers she'd strummed along your palm during the lengthy release.

She'd hoped you'd do well. It seems you were doing a bit too well. You'd put in at-home work, contributed meaningful things to projects far above your pay grade, and smashed through every task will increasingly ruthless efficiency.

You reminded her of her, a million years ago. Crashing through barriers and putting in an unprecedented amount of hours. But it would catch up to you. It caught up to her, one day, when she was fifteen.

It's not a long story, or a particularly important one to anyone. It barely even headlined the local news, even in their small town—Local Tennis Player Passes Out from Exhaustion in the Hot Sun was ran on page 4B, tucked deep into the newspaper and only given a small segment in the sports section. But it was important to her.

It marked a moment where her ambitions were not stunted, but contained. She couldn't practice twenty, thirty hours a week and compete—she'd harm herself. Firm earfuls from both her worried parents and her stern coach confirmed it.

It changed the way she worked, the way she lived. She still watched her tapes over about a trillion times—but she did it relaxed and in bed, instead of on the court as she obsessively attempted to hammer out a flaw in her footwork. She carved out times for actual meals instead of protein bars and fruit.

She wanted to make sure you don't do the same thing to yourself.

This is how she ends up leaning into your cubicle, nose wrinkling at the impersonal area. There's barely any note that someone even spends time here, other than the barest hints of a gifted plant—price sticker still molded to the cheap plastic pot. Hm. It's definitely not suitable for any worker, much less one that puts in as many hours as you do.

"Hello?" She calls out with a quiet murmur of your name, voice curling in the air and seeping past the cushion of your headphones.

She sees the embarrassment on your face. She can practically taste the confusion. What's Ms. Duncan doing here? The surprise on your face makes the slightest smirk tick her lips.

"I was wondering if you'd like to go to lunch with me today."

An unexpected proposition. But who are you to say no?

She'd picked a little vegetarian spot she'd frequented. Based on the charges she's seen on your cafeteria card for meals and such, you're like her—not the biggest fan of meat.

You both settle in to a little corner booth. The angle doesn't force you to meet her eyes; it seems like you've been avoiding that, head tucked almost permanently to your chest. Out of awkwardness or embarrassment, she doesn't know, but she'd like to rectify it.

First, though, pleasantries. The head chef's already ambling over, arms outstretched and a smile curling her face. A nice older woman, with greying roots (she swears she'll let it grow out this time) that whips up the best pasta in the city. She's come out to take their order personally.

"Anything for an old friend and her date." The stressed syllable and the rather unsubtle wink she sends her way is not lost on her. Or you, it seems, she muses to herself as your head dips further.

She'd been rather invested in her life since her divorce. The thought makes her feel the lightness of her ring finger for the first time in months.

No worry, though. She won't let a nosy (if well meaning) friend ruin her date lunch meeting and attempts to pull you out of her shell.

Once the chef had left—but not without shooting her another wink—she is quick to engage you in conversation and sink into the lull of your chatter. She wants to see if the witty, smart person she's seeing in your work and hearing from others is really the truth.

You were, she muses, months later, laying next to you on that beach. And even more than that.

Your ring finger's looking a little bare. She'd never had reservations about buying you jewelry before, though.

these were meant to be headcanons but turned into a blurb. might still write the headcanons though. maybe.

[halcyone-of-the-sea]

Hi Hal!

Congratulations on finishing all the requests (there were so many good ones!!) and thank you for opening them up again!! I’m excited to see what you have in store for us with all your other projects, bestie!!! 😊😊

I was unsure of who to request at first because there are so many good ones but then I saw Hesh’s name and an idea hit me.

If you’re ok with it, could you possibly write one for Hesh where the reader is part of the Ghosts has been taken/captured by the Federation and after some time, they get intel on where she is so they go out to rescue her and she and Hesh are reunited? I don’t know if you want it to be a pre-established relationship or one where they both admit their feelings after they get her back, so I’m leaving it up to you. But I need a little rescue/reunion fic to fill the void in my heart that the ending of Ghosts made.

As always, feel free to change it up as you see fit and do whatever you want. I just think that Hesh deserves more love and I wouldn’t be opposed to seeing Riley again (aka: the best dog in the world)!!

Thank you and remember to take care of yourself and I appreciate you and your work!! 💕💕 Love you, bestie!!!!

Lengths Of Love

PAIRING: David 'Hesh' Walker x F!Reader

SYNOPSIS: You'd loved Hesh for as long as you can remember, and you'd pulled him out of trouble for even longer, but you'd never had the courage to tell him how you feel. Until you do. Until you're being dragged away from his broken body.

WORDCOUNT: 10.7k

WARNINGS: Major spoilers for CoD: Ghosts, heavy angst, blood, guts, descriptions of wounds, canon-typical violence, weapons and firearms, death, torture involving: drugs/hallucinogens, physical violence, mental stress, talks of PTSD, anxiety, paranoia, rescue fic, best friends to lovers plot, wounds that would 100% kill you that you live from (plot armor fr), etc.

A/N: Bestie, I don't know what you put into your prompts, lmao, but I always end up writing so much for you!! Thanks so much for sending something in <3<3

*I do not give others permission to translate and/or re-publish my works on this or any other platform*

The beginning of the end started with good intentions and one statement. 

“You hear this? It’s Rorke. He’s here. They’re evacuating on the train system below.” Hesh’s green eyes darted to you and Logan, his painted face a collection of rage and surety. The three of you were, in an instant, in agreement of revenge—there was no question as to what had to be done. Merrick couldn’t stop you, not on this. 

Rorke had made one of the most dangerous decisions of his life, and that was underestimating the Walker boys and their partner in sinful crime. 

“Harp,” you look away from the body of the warhead as it enters the atmosphere, locking onto Hesh’s hard eyes; the ones that had grown steadily colder since the death of his father, Elias. But it wasn’t just him—the patriarch had been close to you as well. The knowledge of his passing, witnessing it as the rope restraints seared into your flesh, had lit an all-consuming fire in your gut.

Like hounds, the scent of blood had hit the air. 

“Let’s get the bastard. Now or never,” you ease out, and Logan darts his gaze down to you from behind his balaclava. 

“Damn right,” Hesh barks, nodding firmly to you.

Anyone would have missed the way your gaze lingered on him as he darted off and began rushing down the stairs from the control room, Logan ever quick at his heels. But they wouldn’t have missed the way your breath pushed out a soft sigh as your eyes kept locked on the back of Hesh’s head as you followed after. 

You’d been childhood friends since practically infancy, a neighbor to the Walkers. It was natural that Hesh would grow to be the object of your daydreams ever since grade school; a constant and digging knife into your heart when he’d repeatedly pick other girls over you.

But such was life. 

All that mattered now was bringing down Rorke, silly love could wait.

“Merrick,” Hesh yelled down his line, the world outside this building rampant with open war. “The missile’s away and we’ve got a lead on Rorke, we’re going after him!” 

The white double doors meet the three of you as you all rush to them, and the panicked man’s voice flashes down the line immediately. 

“Negative Hesh! You three get back here and return to the rally point. We’ll track him down together.”

You call, “Isn’t an option, Merrick. We can’t let this one go.” 

You and Hesh ram your shoulders into the doors, Logan darting through first with his weapon drawn down the hallway. The brunette’s and your shoulders brush in a jostling of gear—pulling the back as your eyes lock. Cold light seeps from overhead, metal under your feet clanking in-key.

You look away before Hesh agrees and levels with the Ghost over the line to push your point. “Sorry, Merrick. Your mission is complete…ours isn’t.”

Federation heads pop up from behind makeshift barriers of barrels and other stacked items and as you all enter and clear rooms, alarms blare with the ferocity of fighting lions. Hesh keeps by your side, offering you openings that you greedily take as another soldier falls with a stiff twitch of your finger on the trigger. 

Darting behind cover, the man slams to the space beside you, calling over above the noise and the whizz of bullets.

“How long till impact?!” You shove a new clip into your FAD, brushing sweat and blood from your cheeks, smearing patches of your own paint. 

Glancing at the watch on your wrist, you hear Logan pushing the line. You dart out of cover to help—locking onto hostiles and backing up the younger brother with quick feet.

“Eight minutes, Hesh! You got a plan that doesn’t leave me with scorched hair?” He finds it in himself to laugh, clocking a soldier to your left and riddling him with bullets. 

“We need to get to that train, Harp. Don’t worry—I’ll kiss the burns away for you.” He rushes past and sends a smirk over his shoulder. You’re left stunned for a second, wishing that the teasing tilt to the older brother’s words was more than that. You blink, and the feeling is forced away.

Later.

“Keep pushing, Logan,” Hesh moves on. You all sprint down descending ramps, farther and farther underground with every step; adrenaline building to a breakneck level like weight slowly being added over and over to a chest. “We need to get to Rorke!” 

You didn’t want to tell him, but, while revenge was on your plate as well, this was a very reckless idea.

As you grab for a grenade from your belt and jerk on the pin, you chuck it down the way and call out a warning to the boys, who, like a well-oiled machine, dart and wait for it to detonate. Bodies fly, bloody splashes of torn limbs, and three Ghosts materialize from the smoke with masked and painted faces; eyes like fire and veins boiling. 

“Fire team suppressed in 3-1,” Hesh shouts through the line as you slide your knife into a man’s eye, his goggles breaking in a shattering of glass. “Advancing to loading bay!” 

There’s a large elevator ahead for transporting crates, and all of you jog inside as the gate creaks shut.

Merrick’s stiff voice replies, “Roger that.”

Silently, you click into the channel and mutter out as a moment of relative peace coats your body like a blanket, even if for a few small seconds. 

“I’ll keep ���em safe,” a small twitch of your lips, “Commander.”

A deep and unimpressed voice wafts into your ear with a large sigh. “Know you will—just remember to keep yourself safe in the process, Kid…Don’t do anything stupid.”

You shift your gaze to Hash and find green already staring at you. Blinking, the man quickly darts his vision away and after a moment you turn your face back down to the connection and huff through a burning epidermis.

“Haven't you heard?” The elevator shows the train as it descends down, and you call to the boys, ‘six minutes’, with a firm voice. 

“Stupid seems to follow us three everywhere.”

Hesh points as the figures of more soldiers walk around below. “There’s Rorke’s train, straight ahead!” Sure enough, the worm of black and gray metal extends to your eyes across the large room

“He’ll be on there soon. Logan, take left.” You order and the brown-eyed man nods from beside you, shouldering his rifle and checking the clip. “Hesh?” 

“Taking right—you got Point, Doll.” He stares at you, licking his lips. “Clear the way?” You tilt your head at him as the elevator jumps to a stop, the barrier sliding away. It pains you to look away.

There were so many things you had to tell him. Too many things. 

“Always.” Shiting your face forward, you take a breath and take notice of points of cover, scoping the room in three seconds flat. Screeching wheels and alarms ingrain your eardrums. “On me.” 

As you head out first, fire the first bullet, the two peel off in opposite directions, Hesh only sliding up beside you and uttering into your ear.

“Be safe.” 

That comment makes you want to be anything but, if only he’d whisper into your ear like that again. 

Clearing the room, you can’t get your mind off the fact that this crush was overtaking nearly every part of your life—years of quiet agony and staying your tongue in fear of losing what great friendship you had. 

The stock set into your shoulder recoils with another burst of fire, Federation soldiers scream in pain, but you barely register over the shadows in the sides of your vision. 

“Damnit, Hesh,” you growl, bullet grazing your shoulder as you grunt and slip behind a concrete divider. 

“What’s that?” Your eyes widen comedically. Shit…had you forgotten to close the line? 

“Eh,” you clear your throat, grimacing at the small sparks of pain in your shoulder. “N-nothing.” 

There’s a bout of silence and then a panting voice, rough and growing more serious. “You alright over there, Harp?” You can’t even respond before Hesh quickly continues. “I’m comin’ to you. Stay there.”

You violently shake your head, although he can’t see it.

“Hesh, I’m fine! Keep right and clear that hallway.” 

There’s a deep grunt. “Fine, but if I see one scratch I’m makin’ Riley chase you down the Base when we get back.”

If we get back.

You roll your eyes with a growing smile, steeling yourself and slamming your weapon to the top of the divider before locking onto your targets. “Please, we both know he loves me too much for that.”

“Most I’ll have to do is put a treat in your pocket, Sweetheart.” His sly smirk is heard easily, and you swallow tense-like and breathe shakily. That low drawl in his tone left you more distracted than you could ever get used to. “Hell,” There’s a struggle over the line before the shink of a knife meeting flesh. A breathless chuckle that leaves your gut swirling. “Maybe I’ll just chase you down myself.”

Logan coughs over the line and you have to click off before you scream. Your face flares up until your ears ring and you have to duck behind your cover again before you get metal right to the forehead. 

Behind the barrier, you glare at the floor.

When did general teasing get so hard for you? Jokes and jabs carrying weight—since when? Sure you’d liked—more liked loved—Hesh since before all of this, but you’d carried on well enough. 

“Fucking hell,” you grumble, shaking your head to clear it and rushing. 

The brothers pop through the side hallways to flank the enemy, taking out the one or two hostiles that were still breathing after you level your barrel with the last standing head; firing with a burst of gunpowder.

“Train’s leaving, let's go!” Hesh screams, waving an arm quickly at you, walking backwards on quick feet. “Harp, C’mon!” 

You chuff, hopping the divider and sprinting as the metal object speeds up—there’s a moment where you fear you might miss it, Hesh and Logan both forced to hop on even in your absence.

“Harp!” Green eyes flash, one hand on the railing and the other extended out. 

“On it!” Snapping, you slam your palm into his and feel his strong fingers curl to clutch you. Logan grabs your collar and helps; the both of them easily yanking you over just as the wall of the tunnel engulfs you all in illuminated shadow.

Back meeting the train’s body, you pant and chuckle as Logan shakes his head, amused, and pats your shoulder. You wink at him jokingly. 

“Good save there, Walker Number Two.”

Hesh grabs the side of your neck, looking you over as he leans back with a breathless chuckle at the title for his brother. He blinks quickly at your shoulder, eye narrowing before he reaches out and looks at the blood on your gear.

“You mind telling me what this is, Doll?” You make a nose in the back of your throat as the smell of his musk hits your nostrils; the deadly concoction of his scent and his digging gaze.

Stuttering, you huff. “Eh…bullet graze?”

You’re leveled with thin lips, but Logan grabs his brother by the upper arm and peels him off you, motioning to his radio as the train gains even more speed. Wind whips past your face as Hesh clears his throat, quickly avoiding your eyes. 

The man’s splotchy paint shows his red skin under the darker pigment. 

“Merrick, we’re on the train,” he speaks, shifting past you without another look. “We’re going after Rorke.”

“Solid Copy.” You watch the brunette walk away and hold your breath, though you don’t know why—heart beating not just because of adrenaline. 

Embarrassment breeding in your stomach, you ignore Logan’s knowing stare and push off the wall, rubbing at your bleeding shoulder with a stiff hand. 

—

You break a man’s neck against the wall, hand on the back of his head before you slam it into the hard metal. There’s a crunch of bone and a broken rattle before the broadcasted feed from the screen on the train’s panel spits out a message in panicked Spanish to the already deceased men.

“Evacuation protocol C is in effect. All personnel secure cargo and supplies—”

Hesh interrupts ahead of you as you let the body drop, scowling at the heavy sound of its dead weight. At his angry voice, you perk and tune in.

“Tell Rorke we’re comin’ for him.” There’s a quick shove from the other end of the feed, the previous man disappearing as the individual that takes his place makes your eyes go to slits. A great growl like a wolf echoes from your heart and seeps from between your clenched teeth. 

Rorke’s scarred face appears with a smirk and a cocky voice.

“Why don’t you just tell me yourself?” You look at your boys, more concerned for them as you watch firsthand the trauma the death of their father brought them. 

Logan holds his weapon tighter, fixing his grip. Hesh is a bit more direct. He leans closer to the screen, bearing his teeth like a dog and snarling with rage and hatred.

“You’re done, Rorke.” All of a sudden he peels back a fast fist and sends it careening into the screen—making a shattering of glass and a hard thud emanate deep into your bones. 

Blinking quickly, you tense as it happens, not expecting that. But as soon as you try to make sense of it, the brunette is already banking off to the side door, calling a sharp, “Let’s finish this!”

He grabs the side of the train car and wrenches on the handle, grunting and pushing with all of his might.

“Hesh,” you try to reason, stepping in now before things get too hot. “We need to think of a plan before you rush into things. This could get us in a heap of shit that we might not be able to get out of.”

It’s like he doesn’t hear you, and you spare a glance with Logan for help. But he, too, has already joined his brother with a swish of gear on the handle. With one great push, the door opens to the outside brightness, making your face turn away for a moment. 

Along the far expanse of open sand dunes outside; mountains flanking the bridge this train flies across, you get the perfect view of a warhead meeting the ground in an explosion of fire and death. It bursts far across the valley, and you cover your eyes as the sharp ball of light burns your retinas. 

The shockwave hits moments later, and Hesh says easily as the train shakes and squeals like a metal pig, “Looks like Icarus got control of the rods!” The boys step out onto the platform along the train, and you have no option but to follow. “All that’s left is Rorke, let's go!”

“Hesh,” you try again, hissing out his name, and you’re graced with a quick glance.

“Harp,” he comments, “what is it? We can’t wait any longer—”

“What we can’t do is go in blind!” You shout above the wind, legs stanced to help you stay up. Green eyes twitch with confusion, perhaps even a little hurt. 

“Blind? What are you talking about, we push forward and take what’s owed.” You know how much this means to him—to Logan—but there was a point where pride and stubbornness outweighed sense. This was dangerous, especially for Hesh. 

You were always the one to keep him level; keep him from becoming too much like his dad. 

You’d promised that old bastard you’d look after his boys, albeit in a teasing sense, but to you, it had been a stark vow on your soul. Logan was a brother to you, and Hesh…Hesh would always be more, but that only made your love for them both grow. 

“You keep those two from getting in their heads, you hear? They mean well, but there’s no one I trust more than you to level them out, Harp. I’m proud of you. And I’m sure your folks would be too.” Elias had said that, and when he died you bottled it up and used so much force that coal had turned to diamond. 

You would keep Logan and Hesh safe. Safe, and level, and not hard-headed. 

For as much as you secretly loved your brunette, he sure was stubborn as all hell.

“If you want out, Harp,” Hesh calls to you, gritting his teeth. “Just wait back in the train car. This is something we can’t put off like everything else—this ends now; today. I’m not letting Dad’s killer survive.”

“Son of a bitch, that’s not what I’m saying!” You’re quickly losing your standing. Logan jogs ahead to scout, time ticking. “Hesh, you know that I loved Elias as much as you two did—not one is denying that this needs to happen. I'm with you. But this is too damn dangerous! We can’t rush into this without a plan of attack; of exfil! Do you even know how we’re going to get off of this thing?!” 

Hesh had been isolating the few days he had on the U.S.S Liberator, keeping to his room. The man idolized his father and put him on a pedestal of gold even when he was a teenager. He’d even pushed away from you, which all together was unheard of. Logan had nearly had an aneurism when you’d come back to the cafeteria and shook your head in disappointment after trying to get him to open his door. 

The two of you told each other everything. Always. That was just…how it was.

But the man that Hesh had donned the skin of was not the man you loved.

Hesh glares at you, eyes going alight with anger. 

“If you were with me, you wouldn’t be holding me back.” He turns and runs after Logan, leaving you behind in the open air as the train banks left and right with the sway of the bridge. 

Staring. Barely breathing. Mouth parted and eyes wide. 

When the man is at the end of the current train car, having to jump a small distance to the next, he pauses. His back is tight, and under him, his feet shuffle. 

There’s a moment you hope he’ll turn around and come back, take you into one of his hugs, and squeeze the life out of you. It wouldn’t be such a cruel way to die, you think, to be held in his arms. 

But the next moment you see the back of his head shake, and he jumps over to the next section, not even giving you a second glance.

You don’t want to admit how long you waited there, your mind jumbled and confused. 

Don’t take it personally, you try to tell yourself, sucking down a breath before slowly walking forward. He’s hurt. Grieving. He didn’t mean it.

Rationality was a tool of the level-headed, and you were anything but that nowadays.

Over the line Hesh’s voice makes you flinch as you slowly follow after, train car after train car.

“Rorke must be at the front of the train!” You step over dead bodies and lend merciful bullets to the ones still writhing, boots coated in crimson. Following a trail of wreckage with stiff lungs. 

Stay out of his way? Fine, you could do that.

You stayed back from the head-to-head fighting, laying covering fire and keeping off the comms—whenever Hesh managed to look back at you, you simply moved on to the next hostile. 

Eventually, you all ended up on the rooftops, the boys far ahead and yourself blank-faced at the rear. Logan was acting more concerned than Hesh was, glancing at you constantly in confused worry. But it was very much short-lived.

“Incoming!” The right side of the railcar bursts with fire, and you gasp before grappling for the opposite side of the train, keeping you there before the swaying beast leveled out. “Helos. Take cover and take out the gunners!”

You scoff, quickly making your way behind a connector joint to lean your back against it and catch your breath. Two helicopters fly alongside the train, Logan already firing at one, and Hesh…your eyes narrow with annoyance. Hesh was already running ahead of the pack, his low grunts and growls over the line giving way to his impatience. 

You click your jaw and try to remind yourself that this is the same man who held you close during movie nights and carried you to bed when you fell asleep. Made you waffles when your boyfriend in eighth grade broke up with you on Valentine’s Day.

Stitched your wounds before he gave them a teasing ‘kiss better’ and looked up at you through dark lashes. 

You wildly shake your head to force yourself back to the present.

The gunners are harder to hit not only based on wind and distance alone, but on the erratic movements of the pilots. It’s several clips before you down the second Helo, and Logan’s follows immediately after as they both collide and ram into the mountainside.

You both share a glance and rush after the misguided brunette. 

At the end of the train, only the engine remains. 

“Clear!” Hesh relays, jumping down from the roof of the railcar and hurriedly walking to the white door, leaning against the wall. “We’re at the last car, Logan. Rorke’s pinned, he knows we’re comin’.”

You gaze down from the top as Logan follows, silent and brooding. Your hands along your FAD tighten under your gloves. You don’t even look at the man. 

“Merrick, do you copy?”

“Copy, Hesh.”

“We’re moving in on Rorke.” You slide him a look, seeing him glaring those pretty greens into the ground. “If you hear the word “Checkmate”, you will fire on our position! Confirm?” Your eyes snap with horror, heart lurching.

Surely, you hadn’t heard that right.

Merrick’s voice echoes your frozen confusion. “Say again, repeat your last.”

You jump down and stagger for a moment, barking out a harsh, “What the fuck are you doing?” Inside of your chest, your heart rampages like it never had before. “That’s suicide!”

He was going to kill everyone to bring down Rorke, and you get no answer beyond a clenched jaw and a quick side-eye.

“You heard me, Merrick, on “Checkmate”, hit this train!” The connection is cut and Logan gets into position to shoulder the door open, you watch, stuttering. 

Hesh levels with his brother, “We can’t take any chances, Logan. Even if we fail, Rorke dies.” Panic builds, and you’re taking quick steps forward.

You keep those two from getting in their heads, you hear?

You have to stop them, you have to drag them away—but even you know that deep down the only thing that will stop these two is a bullet. 

Eyes snapping back and forth, you only get close enough to try and snatch at Hesh’s arm right as he finishes a countdown of three; at the end, Logan kicks down the engine room door with a violent connection of his boot.

Even with the drop on the three guards inside, it doesn't stop the bullet from ripping through your lower side, preoccupied and distracted yet again. You yell loudly, balking back into the door frame and hunching over as blood spurts out of you. Hesh’s head whips your way immediately, jaw going slack and a soul-deep hysteria takes over.

So now he pays attention.

“Shit, Harp!” So little time. 

Logan can’t take care of the last remaining Fed soldier by himself, and in a large act of self-sabotage, that very soldier just happened to have a missile launcher. 

The entire left engine explodes—the train jerks; everyone is sent in a back-and-forth motion, first hitting off the last train car before being sent right back through the engine room entirely. A transference of force gives you whiplash as your head bounces off the door frame. 

The world goes blurry, body hitting and slamming through layers of glass and pain before the control room is suddenly where you end up, using the body of a stunned guard as a cushion. 

There’s a second of muffled gunfire, struggling and yelling—and then it all comes back into focus like a sniper’s scope being correctly sighted. You gargle an expletive and shove the guard under you back down despite the searing heat in your side and head; struggling to unsheathe your combat knife as the world tilts. 

Hands push at your cheeks, grip at your neck futilely, but when you get the blade out and struggle the hands down once more, you hammer the point into his throat with a thump of your boot pressing for purchase on the floor. 

The man spasming, you push off of him and slam to the ground, coughing in great lung-shattering segments.

“You can’t win, Rorke!” Hesh’s voice brings you back from the swirling, and you hear your blood patter to the metal floor like rain.

“Shit,” you mutter, gasping for air. 

Gazing up you see Rorke holding Logan in a chokehold, free hand pointing a gun at Hesh. Your eyes bulged, trying to push onto your knees and reach for your weapon as you saw Hesh continually looking away from the target and worriedly watching you. His hands at his sides are loose, but when you lock eyes with him, they clench and shake. 

“It’s over—” He tries, but the loud gunshot bounces off the train’s enclosed space. You’re yelling before you can think, darting forward and leveling your gun right to Rorke’s head as Hesh’s form collapses to the ground.

Standing on unsteady feet, you pant and stumble, but the devil’s brown eyes hold you captive. Rorke smirks as you guard Hesh behind you. 

“Well, well, well, seems the girl’s just as promising as you, eh, Logan? She’s the other one who slipped her binds in Las Vegas.” He laughs. “Look at me, I’m surrounded by young talent.” 

“I don’t exactly care if you are or aren’t,” you growl, shuffling to keep Hesh even farther behind you as you instrumentally cough again. Your legs are wobbling. “Just that you put my fucking friend down.”

“You willing to die for him?” Rorke looks demented, with his scar and his intimidating build. Whatever torture he had been through to make him like this—a Ghost killer—it had worked perfectly. There was no coming back from this. He whistles lowly. “That’s some loyalty you have there.”

His mind was dead to all else.

You don’t hesitate in an answer, even as the man behind you grabs your leg, trying to move you with a wheezing breath.

“H-Harp,” his spine moves in a cough. “Don’t…please.”

“Always.” Interest alights in those dark, tiny eyes. Logan tries to give you messages with his gaze, but you ignore him. Ironic. “That’s not something I’ll break on. Unlike you.”

“Shit, Kid,” there’s a grand laugh, “now that’s heartless…but good,” Rorke glances at Hesh, raising a brow and chuckling. “I’ll love to see the look in his eyes when I—”

“Checkmate!”

“Checkmate confirmed.” You look down at Hesh and see him watching you, his gaze open and bare. 

“I’m sorry,” he gasps, but all you can do is watch. 

There’s no time to think.

“I love you,” you confess in a fleeting moment of bare nothingness, blurting it out. “I’ve loved you.”

Hesh’s body entirely halts, jaw slowly slackening in horror; something shifts behind his eyes but before he can open his mouth, a rageful bark bullies the smooth tone of his throat back.

“What did you do?!” Your form is bodied into the controls behind you, colliding as you snarl and are forced to recover. With a snap of your finger, you fire a shot into Rorke’s foot. 

He yells and whips his wrist back, slamming the butt of his gun into your temple. 

As the bridge ahead of the train explodes, Hesh drags himself to cover your body, muttering into your flesh words you cannot name as the darkness sets in.

“It’s over,” Hesh speaks grimly to Rorke, turning to look at him silently as he presses your head into his chest, sharing a nod and thin-lipped look with Logan still stuck in his arm. “It’s over.”

“Shit, Son…” The train gets thrown and broken in a wave of utter destruction and rebirth; and through it all, Hesh never lets go—not even when the water below comes up to meet you.

—

The beach’s sand is coarse, and it sticks to your gear with a fervent hold. To your skin, the paint, and blood, for the moment washed away as hands dragged you from the water, small puffs of breath and whimpers greeting you. 

“C’mon, Sweetheart.” Hesh. And he sounded frantic. “C’mon, open…open your eyes, dammit. Please, you just told me the best thing you possibly could. Please.” 

Water slips off your neck, and as you’re weakly lying back, propped against a rock, hands slip to your cheeks, moving the skin as a barely conscious body tries to make you wake up. 

A forehead hits against your shoulder, a deep groan of pain emanating from the man who grips at your gear.

“No, no, c’mon,” Hesh can barely keep himself sitting up, bloody and broken. Logan had to drag him from the water not seconds prior, and in turn, Hesh had grabbed what little strength was left and helped him get you. “Logan!” Green darts to brown, and the older brother pleads in a broken voice, “Help me!”

You bend your head forward and cough up blood and water, shoving Hesh away from you so you can collapse on your side and expel your stomach.

“Harp,” the man quickly mutters, dragging himself over and grabbing your shoulder to keep your face out of the sand. “Fuck, okay—it’s okay I’ve got you.”

“You,” your voice cuts out, and you shake as you gasp and sputter, “A-are a fucking idiot!” 

Hesh chuckles, and you feel his head hit off your arm, his struggling breath. “God, I know. I know, Sweetheart.” 

Logan crawls over to you, pushing you back against the rock and grappling for his medical pouch as Hesh patches into the comms. You grunt and look down at the younger brother, head swirling in colors and ears pounding with your pulse. 

“Merrick, do you copy? Merrick, come in.”

“Hesh! Hesh, is that you?” You weakly smirk at the shock and relief from the tone, letting your head tilt back as Logan hurriedly packs your gunshot wound with gauze. You wince and stare at the sky—blood infectiously tinging the sand below you. 

Hesh tries to help too, but you and the man are in far worse shape than Logan. The older brother’s shoulder leans into yours heavily, and you shift your eyes to the side as they flutter.

You haven't forgotten what you told him, what you confessed, but right now pushing back the black in the sides of your vision was more important.

And Rorke. What had happened to Rorke?

“Yeah,” Hesh watches you, face screwed with concern. “Yeah, I’m with Harp and Logan. We’re…we’re alive. Rough shape, but alive.”

“And Rorke?” You hold your breath.

“Dead.” Logan ties off a quick tourniquet and your spine tightens in agony, hissing out as your nerves spike with electricity. The brown-eyed man spares you a sorry glance but you shake your head in dismissal. “He’s dead.” 

Out in the water, the enemy warships are firing off missiles inland, some smoking and others already sinking. Merrick gives you the news as Hesh brings a hand up to your chin, tilting your head his way. You go willingly, skin on fire from the scrape of his gloves. 

Logan moves back, having done what he can, before he collapses back into the sand, panting with an arm over his stomach. His older brother’s forehead bumps into yours, eyes stuck. 

“Copy that. The Federation is in full retreat—the rest of the payload is inbound to finish the…”

Whatever else Merrick relays is lost and Hesh’s lips splay over yours, his nose letting out a long breath and body sagging, dead-weight. Cheeks hot and mind running, you let instinct take over and reciprocate, quick fingers pulling at his vest straps.

“Since when?” He asks, breathless when he moves back an inch. 

“After you introduced me to your first girlfriend, Cassie Albrook,” you smile, eyes crinkling. “Seventh grade. The one with the black hair? God, I was so jealous.” 

Hesh chuckles deeply, body jerking as he kisses you again, pulling back and holding your cheek in his hand. His eyes are wide and open.

“You mean to tell me, I could have been kissin’ you all the way back since seventh grade?” Your face moves with pure love, flesh going soft—even the pain diminishes somewhat. 

Merrick’s voice still gruffly moves down the line, and the last bits of his sentence are heard. 

“...Sit tight, Recon’s comin’ for ya.” Everything was looking up. 

Missiles slam into the Federation ships out in the water, the sudden burst of liquid and fire making Hesh briefly cover you with his side to protect you from the shockwave. When you turn to look, nothing but sinking metal remains. 

“I’m sorry,” Hesh tells you, and you don’t have the energy to pull away from his neck as you let your head rest—the thumping of your brain and the calming shadow of his form giving way to believe you had a concussion. 

“Hm,” you hum, letting him continue. His voice echoed in his breast.

“I…I’ve been an ass these past few days, weeks, I shouldn’t have said what I did—wanted to take it back as soon as I turned away from you.” You close your eyes and sigh long, sarcastic even now. 

“You owe me dinner and a movie, then I’ll see if I can forgive you.” Hesh chuckles, nose pressing down into your scalp. He kisses you there as water falls from his chin.

“Sounds like a plan, Doll.” The man lets himself rest, curled around you and waiting for the recon team as the sand and the water move. “I love you too…just so you know. Long time.”

Your failing mind lets off a scoff. But a happy one.

When you wake again, not remembering when you’d fallen asleep, it is to the sound of screaming. 

“Logan!” You jolt up and have to place a hand on your head to stop the pounding. Hesh is struggling to move, fighting to get to his younger brother who you turn as quickly as you’re able to face. “Logan!”

Your face voids of blood. 

Rorke is dragging the other man away, pushing him to the ground as Logan tries to fight like a dog on his back, with only one arm working properly. Growling, you try to stand—body falling and sliding right back down as Rorke kicks Logan’s combat blade from his hand, walking over to you and Hesh. 

He stands and pants, limping from your shot to his foot and a hand across his abdomen in obvious pain.

“Look what you did,” Rorke motions behind him to the still-falling missiles being disposed of from space into the ocean; atop the wreckage of what Rorke had been a part of. Falling to your side, you leave behind a raging Hesh who attempts to move and get to Rorke while you go to Logan. The devil wheezes and points from you to the boys, forcing a grunt of approval. “You’re good.”

Hesh is shoved back by a ruthless boot into the rock, and you snarl, coming over to Logan and his very broken arm as he weakly writhes on the ground. You place your body over his and bare your teeth as if a beast. 

“Rorke!” You bark. “It’s over! It’s done. Everything you’ve built is dead and recon is on its way for us…you’re finished.”

“Nothin’s finished, no,” Hesh tries to lunge again as Rorke’s body stumbles closer to you but falls into ragged coughs and stays on his side in utter agony. 

“Stay away from them!” The man you’d just confessed to hisses, hand grasping futilely at the sand. Green eyes run back and forth from you to Logan, desperate and breaking by the second. “Rorke! You son of a bitch!”

“Nothin’s ever finished.” Grabbing you by the scruff of your neck, you’re being tossed off Logan and thrown to the side in a cloud of sand, body screaming at you as you yell out loudly. 

Rorke bends a knee to look Logan in the eyes, shaking his head.

“You’d of been a hell of a Ghost.” Yelling, you wrench at the combat knife in your vest, set your feet, and tackle Rorke off of the Walker boy with a feral curse on your breath. 

“Get the fuck off of—” Your leg twists with a defining crack as you’re grappled and thrown off, only able to slice a nice long cut down his jaw and at the beginning of the man’s throat. 

Screaming you hear briefly Hesh’s rageful bellow, his calling of your name in high keens of helplessness. Promises of revenge and justice. 

Breath breaking as tears line the back of your eyes, Rorke comes over you and pins your dominant hand to the ground—you look up and grimace, trying to make your body function. 

Move!

Rorke laughs, great shoulders shaking with glee. He’s fucking demented as he continues his sentence from before your fruitless attack. 

“...But that’s not gonna happen, is it?” The man smiles and you struggle as Logan and Hesh rapidly try to assist. 

“Harp!”

“There ain’t gonna be any Ghosts.” Rorke’s eyes shift to Hesh, and you follow with a sense of dread and horror. The man’s mind had been made up when he turned back around, disregarding Logan entirely in favor of you and your ‘unbreakable’ loyalty. 

The joy it would bring him to destroy you and set you loose after such. Set you loose on Hesh. 

He leans in close to you, so you can feel his breath and his conviction. 

“We’re gonna destroy ‘em together.” 

“Harp!” You’re shoved back, knife grasped and ripped from your hand as your broken leg is grabbed and pressure is applied. 

You scream again, arms carding across the dunes as Rorke begins dragging you backward like a child holding onto a stuffed toy. Blown green eyes meet yours, Hesh reaching out and screaming at the top of his lungs for you. 

But he can’t move.

“Harp!” 

And you can’t feel your fingers. 

“I love you,” you whisper, perhaps for the last time and he sees your lips move. Hesh screams and slams his hand into the ground, Logan stumbling to his knees but immediately dropping back with a small cry. 

And Rorke chuckles.

—

You don’t know where he took you, but you do know the jungle floor is cold and wet, and the mud under your fingernails makes you feel gross. 

What you do know is that the earthen walls of the pit you are in are pointless to try to climb—the top is slatted with a covering of long sticks with wide square openings. You know it’s going to rain by the smell in your bloodied nostrils. 

You know that your leg is broken, your bullet wound is festering through the tourniquet, and your concussion is making you sleepy. 

In your head, you count these ‘knowns’ and sprinkle them like seeds as you stare blankly at the sky far above. Everything aches; hurts. When you breathe, it comes in and out with a wheeze. 

You know that Hesh loves you, and perhaps that’s the only fact you care about. Wherever he is, you’re glad he can’t see you like this. 

Rain patters against your head, the storm clouds finally rolling through. Leaves can be heard shuffling on their branches. You breathe in and out, rising and settling your lungs slowly. 

You can’t break—not like Rorke. 

No matter what he did to you, you can’t betray the Ghosts. Logan. Hesh.

Elias’s words echo as you curl into a tiny ball, shivering and whimpering as your wounds move and pull. 

...I’m proud of you. And I’m sure your folks would be too.

You know this game. Torture. They’ll pump you full of hallucinogens, starve you, beat you within an inch of your life; and through that you cannot give in.

But it’s easier said than done.

In the middle of the night, the top of the pit is pushed away and there are the voices of multiple people that dance above the rain storm. They jump down and in the state you are, there’s nothing you can do to stop them from hooking their arms under yours and hauling you up, limp and motionless. 

The words are in Spanish, and you still can make out some over the commotion and the way your hearing dips in and out. 

“Where do we inject….”

“...neck, I believe…arm could work too…”

“...nasty…was it? I heard…mix of drugs…Who knows?”

Your head is harshly yanked back, and the sharp pinch of a needle digs into your neck, the action making your good leg kick out in panic but there’s little you can do. 

A flood of thick fluid enters your veins and like sap seeping out of a tree some drops exit the wound and mix with the rain weighing down your clothes. They’d taken your gear, only your undershirt and cargo pants still clothing you. 

When they’re done, they let you drop back to the floor, where you flop and smash your face into the mud with a weak drag of your cheek along the sludge. With calls from above, a rope is tossed down and they all ascend. The top is clattered back over moments later. 

Laying still and groaning, teeth clenched, already you feel ten times more strange than before. 

“Ah,” you grasp at your head, which was bursting to begin with, as it gains a looseness to it—the mud below you shimmered with puddles, the chill got colder, and your clothes felt grating against your skin. “Not good. N-not good.” 

You pull at your shirt collar, coughing as your eyes bulge; your heart breaks itself as it immediately can be felt hammering into your ribcage far more sensitive than you’d ever experienced. It felt like your chest was going to rip open. 

Panicked sounds emanate from the back of your throat, fingers digging into your scalp as the drugs carry their venom through your blood. 

Your wounds blazed.

You start screaming, babbling for nothing, and pulling at your flesh, but the overhead striking of lightning leaves the desperation mute to all but the trees.

—

Hesh stares at you from the corner of the pit, but his eyes are not green. You watch, silent, barely moving, from where you curl into a tiny heap of bloodied flesh. You’d torn at your skin for days; time looped together with more injections and no food. Water you got from the sky.

They had offered soup, but you knew better even as you dug harsh lines into your neck. There were just more drugs in the broth. 

But Hesh. Hesh.

He wasn’t right—didn’t stand like him, or breathe like him; there was something off about his smirk as he watched you gaze at him in an addled stupor.

“Feelin’ good over there, Kid?” Not Hesh. Not. Hesh.

You’re panting, your body sweating profusely in the humidity and so, so hungry.

Not Hesh takes a step forward and his image tilts like the turning of a page with Rorke taking his place, but as soon as it happens it flips back on itself to your Love.

“N-not right,” you hurriedly whisper.

Not Hesh puts a hand to his ear, kneeling down in front of you. “What was that, now?” A long chuckle. His voice is…is…deeper. Your eyebrows flinch up and down. “Who do you see, Sweetheart?”

“Hesh,” you whimper out. “Hesh, what are you talking about? What’s going on? I…I feel like I’m…I’m twisted inside out.”

“Hesh, huh?” The man looks to the side, smiling. “Well, that’s better than I expected. This’ll be fun.”

“W-what—” A fist connects with your face and you get catapulted into the wall. Before anything else, your stomach is kicked, making your call of alarm get forced out as a gasp as your clotted bullet wound reopens in a great tear. A large hand grips you hard by the chin, snapping it forward to stare into those wrong eyes but the familiar face of Hesh. 

What was he doing to you?

“H…Hesh,” you can’t even stutter out his name before you break down into coughs and gagging; tears rolling down your cheeks, and blood and mud everywhere.

“Yeah, that’s right. You just keep lookin’ at me.” You dry heave and push at his hands, fingernails digging into his skin to create crescent moons. “Keep lookin’ at Hesh.”

—

It’s three months of the same, and you can’t go on anymore.

You lay in a near comatose state on the ground, flesh completely covered in mud and open wounds—maggots eat at your dead skin, wriggling deeper. Not having the heart to pick them out, or even move the few non-broken fingers you have, you lay in blank agony. Pain so deep you can’t scream or make a single noise. It would make it worse; it is making it worse. 

Breathing is becoming a chore.

“Is today going to be the day?! God, I sure hope so.” Hesh looks down from over the edge, fiddling with another syringe of drugs. “Enough blood down there to make a fuckin’ painting out of. Shit…You lasted longer than I thought, Kid.” You don’t look at him. At his dark, wrong, eyes. 

“I’m nearly impressed.” There’s a low chuckle and the crackling of branches. 

You close your eyes and try to think of a single kiss and green eyes, but the rest of the image is tainted to you. Your mind can’t call it forward without the corruption of the puppet ahead of you, this shifting specter of mist and smoke.

Memories that used to bring you comfort call to fear and spine-curling hurt. 

This couldn’t be Hesh, you told yourself for the millionth time, but…who else could it be? Your body was too broken to try and work through the hallucinations, to think or rationalize.

There’s a thump of boots and a grunt. Someone coming closer as birds speak far above. Singing. It's the first you can recall another living creature being this close to the smell of infected decay.

 “Now, now, let’s see that neck of yours.” You’re seized and pushed onto your back, head lulling and eyes fluttering. Hesh’s image shifts and bends into another, one you should be able to name but can’t quite recall. It’s hard to focus. “Just one more, and we can fix this. Together. No more Ghosts, huh? We’ll make it right.”

Birds songs. Birds and flying shadows. Rapid wing beats like an eagle or the pound of paws on the ground. 

There is an un-godly snarl and a call of rage. 

“Rorke!” The dark-eyed Hesh snaps his head away, his needle stilling in his grip only inches from your flesh. He’s grappled and ripped away, thrown up and slammed down into a full-body jerk of pure strength not a second later with a cry of shock. “Get the fuck off of her!” 

Shadows roll and wrestle, feral yowls like that of beasts bounce off your impaired hearing, mud stuck in your ears. You think your vision cuts out for a moment because the next there’s a different man gripping your shoulders, slightly shaking you back awake.

Blue eyes like the ocean. Your brow barely twitches in confusion. 

Keegan? 

“C’mon, that’s it. Right here.” A light is taken and directed right into your eye in the fading light. “You’re doin’ great, Harp. Just keep lookin’ at me.” 

The light passes over your blood-coated eyes and barely diolates. Keegan’s lips under his balaclava thin to an alarming degree. 

“Fuck,” he grunts, looking down at you before he darts his vision over to Hesh, the actual Hesh, who’s locked limbs with the former Ghost; fists to guts and primal anger. 

In his haste to get to you, Hesh had damned himself—he’d left no opening for any of the others to get a clean shot at Rorke. But no one could blame him, even if it was reckless; incredibly stupid. 

The man had been on your trail nearly every day since you’d been taken. Barely sleeping, eating little. A man possessed. 

The Ghosts had been half convinced something had taken over his image and scooped out his personality.

“Merrick,” Keegan patches into the secure line, looking back down at you. “Positive ID on HVT, three klicks West. Hesh has engaged—we found Harp.” 

There’s an instantaneous response, worried breath. “Solid copy…how’s she doing?”

“We need MedEvac immediately. She won’t last another night.” There’s a curse on the other end, a loud and quick call to the rest of his squad. 

“Copy! I’ll call it in!” Keegan tries to stabilize you as Hesh and Rorke rip each other to shreds, and Hesh, who had the upper hand in the beginning, is quickly losing it.

“Awe, look who tracked ‘er down!” Rorke snatches at Hesh’s collar and lays two jabs to his ribs—there’s a definitive crack as the younger man shouts in pain. “Young love! So fucking pointless.” 

“I’m going to rip you into pieces,” Hesh bares his teeth, eyes wild and unrestrained. For a moment Rorke looks taken aback by the utter conviction in his green gaze. “And make you choke on your own damn teeth! You hear me?!” 

Ripping away with a tear of fabric, Hesh bends low and tackles the former Ghost to the ground, splaying him out on his back before his fist is snapped back and brought down; again and again and again. 

“Hesh!” Keegan shouts, pressing deeply into your wounds and trying to give you fluids with one hand. “This fucking kid.” The Sergeant gives up, shaking his head. 

Trust had to be given, and Keegan knew that at this moment he had to trust Hesh to hold his own. He needed to keep you conscious. 

“Easy, Harp.” You can feel the cracks in your dry throat as the water seeps past them, and you cough up droplets before the blue-eyed Sergeant tilts your head and helps you. “Easy, Sweetheart.” 

Keegan doesn’t even want to look at your body as the brutal sounds of a fist on bone continue, clothes scuffling and gargled breaths—the savagery and barbarous remnants of mental and physical torture too much even for him. 

“Christ,” he hisses. 

You gulp down water slowly and let it fill your stomach like a brick. 

Hesh reduces Rorke’s face to a mess of flesh and busted bone, sweating and not even stopping as his knuckles split under his gloves or his fingers dislocated from their sockets. His eyes burn, his face goes red—he looks insane. 

He looks like a spirit of utter revenge. 

Only when Logan and Merrick drag him off the spasming body does he stop, but not after he tries like hell to fight out of that hold as well. Whipping around, he attempts to land a punch on Merrick before Logan is forced to put him in a restraint hold. 

Hesh’s cheek meets the mud, face being sunk into it as his right arm is twisted so far behind his back it nearly breaks. The older brother growls, free arm and legs moving—back sliding. 

“David!” Merrick barks at him, face pulled in a sneer, enraged at the man’s lack of sense. “Shut this shit down. Look at her, dammit!” Logan gets bucked off, but the youngest Walker boy has enough sense to wrestle him back down and grab onto his chin; forcing those green eyes to lock on you and Keegan. 

The second he sees you, he entirely freezes.

Merrick sighs out harshly, jogging over to you and already checking in with the MedEvac that Kick’s flying in. There would be no resistance—all the other hostiles were dead. 

“Jesus Christ,” the Commander breathes, kneeling by you instantly and studying your body. 

Hesh’s reaction is slower, but the spread of vile tears burns the back of his eyes. Logan lets him go at seeing this, standing and holding out a hand, but the brunette stays on the ground a moment longer; utterly still. 

Hesh’s mouth opens and closes. 

All at once he’s rushing over and limping up at your side as Merrick grabs more medical supplies from his packs to help you. 

“Oh my God,” Hesh breathes, and Keegan sends him a glance. You’d drank all of the water. “Harp, hey, you’re going to be okay—it’s gonna be alright, you hear? I’m right here, Logan and I are gonna get you home. Back to California, okay? Riley’s waitin’ for you, Doll.”

You flinch at that voice, and Merrick looks sharply at the blue-eyed Sergeant. Their eyes lock, holding for a long moment. Logan’s brows tighten in confusion. 

The brunette seems not to notice it at all, hands finding your cheek before Merrick can give him a warning. Your eyes slowly shift to him before they peel back with fear.

Hesh’s vision goes glossy, clenching his jaw. “Shit, what did he do to you—”

“Hesh!” 

You yell and yerk back, shoving the man off of you with a fear-filled sob. 

“No!” Keegan and Merrick grapple to keep you down, not wanting to aggravate your wounds as Hesh falls to his ass, hands slapping behind him before he hisses and brings them back up. He blinks quickly in confusion and panic.

Logan rushes over and hides him from your view, beginning to understand what was going on. 

“No!” You call again, Keegan having to hold your head into his chest to hide you away. Merrick yells down his comms to hurry the Helo up, and that he doesn’t care about anything else. “No,” your voice gargles off as you sob into Keegan. “Please, no more.”

“Shh,” the Sergeant mutters, looking over his shoulder at a pale and shaking Hesh. “Nothin’s going to happen to you. Not anymore.” 

“Harp,” Hesh whispers, jaw slackened. “I…I don’t…”

“Hallucinogens,” Merrick says grimly, watching you shake and wail. Logan has to look away, his fists clenching. “Who knows what she’s seen. Reckon it wasn’t anything good.”

It’s like he doesn’t hear anything besides your cries. Whenever you gasp Hesh tenses as if he wants to run to you—comfort you the best way he knows how. 

Hallucinogens? He thinks and feels tears dribble down his cheeks as he blinks, rubbing at his jaw and shakily placing a hand over the back of his neck. Logan puts a heavy grip on his shoulder, weighing them down even more.

—

Rorke’s death should have been a time of celebration—of honoring the fallen. Elias Walker, Ajax, and countless others. The Federation was nothing more than broken factions now. Dust to the wind. 

But no one can celebrate when they’re trying to fix one of their own.

You were being kept in the secure medical ward under twenty-four-hour surveillance and around-the-clock care; only Keegan was allowed in, seeing as you were the closest to him outside of Logan and Hesh and had no adverse effects to his presence. 

Merrick had said he didn’t want to risk Logan going in, as it might worsen things. Hesh was taking it hard. 

He just got you back, how was this right? How was it fair that you’d had to go through that right when it was supposed to be over and done with? The man got sick over it, thinking about what Rorke had done to…break your mind like he had. 

Two months. 

Two months of nightmares plaguing him, of your eyes when you looked at him. If Hesh had just been stronger, then that bastard would never have dragged you away on that beach. He resulted in working out more, running laps around Fort Santa Monica with Riley at three in the morning—he grew bags under his eyes. He grew quiet. 

When all of his broken ribs and fingers healed, the artificial wounds, he was offered awards for taking down Rorke; even a summon by the President. 

He’d denied all of them. 

If a medal was going to get you better faster, he’d have taken them in an instant. But he wasn’t that stupid. Hesh was withering, and everyone saw it. He loved you more than anything—more than fame or recognition. The man lay awake at night fearing that you were too cold or uncomfortable in the far-off ward, he was paranoid about your safety. 

More often than not, the nurses found him and Riley fitfully sleeping outside of your door on the hard ground, arm used as a pillow. They didn’t have the heart to move him.

In the last two weeks before the third month of your isolation and evaluations, in his nighttime routine, Hesh finds your door open. 

He stares at it now with a blank expression, fatigue once burning his eyes all gone for a deep and pounding panic. With a hand gesture, Riley halts and sits, and, sensing his handler’s mood, lets his ears go straight up in attention. 

Hesh reaches for the gun in the back of his pants, peeling it out slowly and taking a nearly silent step forward. Ready, his ears strain for a sound…but there is none. 

His free hand reaches for the door, the short sleeves of his gray sleep-shirt bunching. A moment later, he lightly taps the barrier farther out before entering the room with the gun drawn.

He said he wouldn’t get distracted, but it would be a lie to say his eyes didn’t immediately go to you. 

You were there, asleep, curled up on the far recliner chair instead of the bed. Head lulled to the side and knees kept close to your chest. But it was the scars that broke Hesh.

They were large and long—on your face and arms; legs. All moving and stretching like a child’s drawing up your sleep shorts and shirt, disappearing only to reappear somewhere else. Healed over but still fresh.

Hesh drops the gun and turns his body slightly away, staring at the side wall before he takes an unsteady breath. He re-hides his weapon and turns to leave, not seeing anyone else.

Maybe Keegan had forgotten to close the door…he’d have to chew him out for that. Already a dull point of anger was making his jaw clench at the sly older man.

“Bastard,” Hesh mutters.

Before he can exit and close the door softly behind him, he hears a broken squeak of alarm. He halts as you stare heavily into his back—awoken by the sound of nearly silent feet. In a steady motion, the man’s hands are by his sides, open and visibly holding nothing. 

“I was just leaving,” Hesh whispers, not looking at you. His heart hammers. “I’m sorry, I thought someone else was in here—the door was open, okay?” 

Your hands twitch, body still and breath held tight.

“Hesh?” He flinches, eyes closed tight. 

Don’t look at her. Don’t turn around. Leave.

“Are you really…him?” You ask silently, eyes darting nervously around the room and quickly waking up fully. 

It’s a moment before he answers you. 

“Yeah,” he forces out, voice tiny and sad. “Yeah, it’s me, Doll. Just David Walker.” 

Your throat bobs with a thin swallow. Treatment was still ongoing, but it’s not every day you wake up to find the man who you had nightmares about standing in your room. 

Breathe, you have to remind yourself. It was the drugs. Not Hesh. Never Hesh. Rorke.

But you were still scared. 

“I…I need to see your eyes,” you say. 

Hesh turns carefully, staring hard at the floor. His heart lurches, hands going clammy. 

What if she has a setback? He asks himself. What if I mess this up…Shit, Hesh, you couldn’t have minded your own business?

Oh, but he never could when it came to you. 

“Then look at me, Sweetheart.” The man breathes slowly, darting his eyes up to your face. “They only belong to you.”

But your gaze can’t slip to his sockets, only able to glare fearfully into his neck. But this Hesh felt different, more like the one you grew up with—those memories still coming back but tainted; you need to see green, but it was hurting you to think that you might not.

“I’m scared,” you admit, shakily. The man’s thighs tense, but he stops himself before he can go and take you into his arms. That wouldn’t help. “I’m…I don’t know what’s real anymore.”

“I’m real. I swear to you, Harp, I’m real. I’m right here and I’ll wait for you as long as it takes. Even if it’s years, I will always be right here.” He pleads, hands still at his sides and going nowhere if you don’t tell him to. It’s like a floodgate opens, months of internal pain and heartbreak spilling out. You needed to know this, even if he never got to see you again. 

“I have loved you since I saw you get jealous over Cassie Albrook in seventh grade and tried to hide it because you thought she made me happy—she could never make me happy, Harp. That was you. That was always and will always be you. I…I can’t breathe when you’re not near me, I don’t know how to act right when you’re hurt. Seeing you hurting is…is…” Hesh’s voice breaks and he falls silent. 

“Please, if you need to look into my eyes, I’m beggin’ you, Sweetheart, please, do it. Even if it’s only one glance.” Your breath is stuck in your throat, tears welling and sliding down your cheeks. 

In your skull your brain pounds, bordering on hysteria and an urge to flee. There was so little that you trusted anymore. Keegan, yes—the nurses and doctors? You had no choice there. 

You knew that the Hesh you’d seen in the pit was Rorke, Keegan had explained it all to you after the drugs had been pumped from your system; you understood that part. But it didn’t make the sickening confusion any better.

Symptoms of severe PTSD, paranoia, anxiety—you’d seen the charts when the nurses thought you weren’t looking at them. 

You still wouldn’t let anyone with a needle anywhere close to you, had to be put under for it. 

But you’d been so lonely here. A simple kiss seared into your mind before the horror set in, a stain of a smile on your lips. A chest vibrating with a content purr. 

Hesh. You want your Hesh back. 

Taking a stuttering breath, your eyes dart upwards. You push through your misty gaze and lock on a color that can only be described as a grassy field of verdant growth. Great open plains of viridescent being—showing you a world bathed in tender belonging. 

Home. 

You sob and rush from the chair on legs that still hurt even now, meeting Hesh in the middle as he takes a step forward and wraps his arms around you. You’re covered and kept in a hold so tight it’s like he’ll never let you go, heart pounding and his face loose with shock.

But he says nothing beyond a loud shuttered exhale of relief, pressing you to his chest and burying his face into your scalp, breathing you in; taking you down like a sinner in church until all that remains is you. Your fingers digging into his shirt, your face in his neck, how you call his name as if calling a ghost back from the dead.

“Oh, my Girl.” Hesh chuckles through the tears in his eyes. “My Girl. I missed you so much, you won’t even believe it.” 

You push yourself into him tighter. 

Riley, at some point, had come to stand in the doorway, his dark beady eyes seeing only the colors in gray, brown, yellow, and blue, though that never truly mattered. Color was only half of the picture. 

And the rest of the image in front of him was seeped with the pigment of love. 

The dog’s tongue lulls from the side of his mouth, and in the air behind him, his tail moves back and forth into a soft arch.

TAGS:

@luuvbuzz, @emerald-valkyrie, @anna-banana27, @blueoorchid, @cryingnotcrying, @writeforfandoms, @homicidal-slvt, @jade-jax, @frazie99, @elmoees, @littlemisstrouble, @alpineswinter, @phoenixhalliwell, @idocarealot, @lavalleon, @facelessmemories, @h-leigh, @20forty9, @glitter-anon-asks, @emily-who-killed-a-man, @neelehksttr, @aeneanc, @escapefromrealitysm, @i-d-1-0-t, @pparcxysm, @hawkscanendme, @caramlizedtomatos, @waves-against-a-cliff, @sanfransolomitatm, @maelstrom007, @jemandderkeinenusernamenfindet, @pheobees, @glitterypirateduck, @uselsshuman, @fan-of-encouragement, @halfmoth-halfman, @ghostlythunderbird, @I-inkage, @pukbadger, @kopatych11, @0nceinabluem00n, @cocrorapop, @knightofsexyness, @abnormalgeil, @smallseastone, @jacegons, @330bpm-whiplash, @simon-rileys-housewife, @4-atsu, @tiredmetalenthusiast

[hearts4skywalker]

ABSENTMINDEDLY // daniel larusso

masterlist!!

summary: daniel n you are studying he makes it impossible to focus on studying

parings: daniel larusso and you!!

warnings: straight fluff, slight language, i think i used feminine pronouns im so so so sorry, inspired by fearless tv 🫶

a/n: im going to the outsiders museum tomorrow 🥳

w/c: about 900

y/n l/n had never really been exceptionally good at history. she found it a total snooze fest. she was constantly sleeping in that class. she made good grades in all of her other subjects. history and her just couldn't click.

she had no clue what to do until her boyfriend, daniel larusso, made a comment on his few recent one hundreds in history. he was the perfect solution. he always is.

so that's what led y/n to awkwardly standing outside of daniel's class, waiting for him to finally leave the room. he was a slow walker. daniel wasn't paying attention to where he was going so when she waved a hand in his face, he jumped back, surprised. his face lit up when he realized who was in front of him. he pulled her in for a tight hug, pulling back after a few seconds.

his face finally registered after a moment. "y/n? what are you doing here? your history class is on the other side of the build-" he furrowed his brows, stopping his sentence midway. y/n gave him a smile, when he realized why she was here. "nope. nu uh. not going to happen." daniel turned his head from her.

y/n frowned. "daniel please. this is the last time i promise." she pleaded with daniel, practically begging. daniel shook his head no. "we never actually study. you get caught up in telling me about that tex movie you like so much. and as much as i love you, it's a no." daniel began walking towards y/n's next class, knowing she would follow.

and y/n did follow him. she followed him hopelessly. she looked like a lost puppy. "please daniel," she dragged the letters out in his name. "if i don't pass this unit test i'll be grounded. and then we can't hangout." she bargained with him. daniel exhaled slowly. he let out a long sigh before turning around to face her. "fine. i'll help you study. but if we don't actually end up studying, i'll never help you study again. okay?" y/n gave him a big smile. the first bell rang when they got to her history class. "come over at six, m'kay?" she planted a small kiss on his cheek. daniel nodded, a smile spread across his face.

so thats how we got here. y/n was tidying up her room, putting the last of her clothes away. she always made it a point to have her room clean when daniel came over. she had just changed out of the sweatshirt and jeans she wore to school and into a t-shirt and shorts when she heard a knock at the door. she walked out of her room and down the stairs to go let daniel in.

when she opened the door, daniel was staring back at her, a smile on his face. he had on his red hoodie with black sweatpants. one of the straps from his backpack sat comfortably on one of his shoulders. y/n grabbed his hand, pulling him in excitedly. she softly closed the door behind them. still holding his hand, she took him upstairs to her room.

daniel sat his backpack down on the floor while y/n closed the door behind him. daniel grabbed his history homework out of his bag, sitting down on one side of her bed. y/n sat next to him, her homework already sitting out.

she tried her hardest to comprehend what daniel was explaining, but world war one was so boring to her. she stared at daniel, acting like she was paying attention. in reality, she was admiring him. she watched how his hair bounced every time he stirred a little. she watched his eyes focus on reading the words on the worksheet before the sentence came out of his lips.

she couldn't stop staring at his lips. she wanted to kiss him. she wanted to be done with history. it wasn't that important in life. she was thinking long and hard about if she would actually use history in the future. then her mind went back to daniel. daniel and his soft brown hair. daniel and his passion for karate. how good of a kisser he was. how he was even willing to study after all the times she wasn't focusing on the work.

"y/n? are you even listening?" daniel turned to face her. y/n laughed a little, shaking her head no. daniel couldn't help but smile himself. sure it was frustrating, but she was his girlfriend. his sweet, funny, girlfriend. he started laughing himself.

the room was full of laughter. daniel thought he would die from how much he was laughing. the laughter soon died out. daniel looked at y/n, who was already staring at him. he let out a sigh. "who gives a shit about history anyways." he gave her a smile before planting a soft and quick kiss on her lips. y/n did not appreciate how soon he pulled away. she gently grabbed his face, kissing him again.

who cares about studying anyways?

[lavendersmemories]

I wrote this in like 2022? Thought maybe I’d post it. If a certain part seems too familiar I was obsessed with back up by deJ loaf at the time. I have a half written part 2 if anyones interested after this part.

Warnings: nsfw, smut, all characters are 18+, fem! Reader, not proof read, porn without plot, fboy Deku who’s not as good as he thought, sub Deku, begging, overstimulation, little bit of dacryphilia, might’ve missed something

Words: 3.2k

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Midoriya was going on a walk, it was pretty late Friday night. As he walked through the path of the UA dorm area he found a girl sitting on a bench by herself. He didn't recognize her, she was really pretty though. Not having any plans tonight her figured he might as well try for a bit of fun. He went and sat beside the girl, she took out her headphone and looked at him unamused.

"Can I help you?" She asked coldly. He stuck out his hand to her, she looked down at it unamused not accepting it. He put his hand back down with an awkward smile.

"Hey I'm Izu-" he said getting cut off by her.

"I know your name Midoriya, and I know all about your little reputation" she said rolling her eyes, he was a little taken aback but she was starting to intrigue him.

"I didn't realize I was starting to get famous. If you know about me then-" he tried again but she cut him off.

"I know you think your some kind of lady killer but I'm not like these other girls your messing around with, I think I'll pass" she said standing up to walk away, he grabbed her hand this firey attitude in her making him really interested in her.

"You didn't even let me finish, how'd you know that's what I was gonna say" he said making her turn around.

"Fine then what did you have to say?" She asked starting to get annoyed.

"I was going to ask your name, and who you are since I don't recognize you" he said, it was the half truth he was interested in that but she had it pretty accurate that his mind was elsewhere.

"I'm Y/n, a third year in the support course" she said, she left out her last name. Making him even more intrigued, the way that she had such an attitude and stayed mysterious made him want to dive in her pants even worse, as terrible as that may sound. It wasn't just that though, he did want to get to know this mysterious girl's personality and why she acted this way. He was glad she was at least in his grade though, he was really hoping the reason he didn't recognize her wasnt because she was a first year. It also confused him though how he never met her in these three years.

"Well tell me more about yourself Y/n" he said making her pull her arm away.

"I know what kind of game your trying to play, and I'm not falling for it. Honestly just because you get around doesn't mean your this hotshot that's going to get everyone to drop their panties for you, especially because I'm sure you've never actually made a women cum in your life." She said pretty confidently. He stood up with a smirk on his face.

"I mean you can test the theory then if your so confident in it. But I will say I always make sure she finishes first~" he said, using a different tone for the second part. He was trying to be seductive, any other girl would swoon but she was used to this.

Any guy that acted like him had never made her cum, only left her annoyed. So she was sure his 'amazing reputation' was all front, he was being honest though. It was his pride that he always left girls shaking.

She finally let out a sigh and looked at him, trying to act defeated. Inside she was wearing a giant smile, kind of excited to crush his ego.

"I mean fine if your so sure of yourself" she said, making the smirk go back onto his face. She started walking towards her dorm, he followed her quickly.

"By the way when I make you cum don't be blowing up my phone, it doesn't make me your boyfriend or anything" he said from behind her, she nodded trying to stifle a giggle as she kept walking.

She took him back to her dorm, going up to the top floor. He entered the room taking a quick look around as she locked the door, not quite what he was expecting but to be fair the only thing he knew about this girl was her first name. He didn't normally like to do something like that but sometimes it happens. The girl then startled him by teleporting infront of him.

"Oh fuck, you scared me" he said as she laughed quietly. That was one way to find out her quirk.

"Don't worry, I'll be full of surprises" she said with a smirk. She then leaned up kissing him, he kissed her back wrapping an arm around her waist.

He slowly inched towards her bed, making sure to not knock either of them over in the process. Gently pushing her onto it before climbing over her body. As she stared up at him there was just something in his eyes, it drew him in.

He leaned down needing to feel her soft lips against his again. Letting his hands trail down her sides, not pushing under the shirt or straying too far, he always did try his best to be respectful.

He didn't try to pry anything, but her tongue slide past his lips making a grunt leave his mouth. If this was her pace he could most certainly match it. His tongue swirled against hers, fighting for dominance. She decided to play along and let him win, being able to feel the satisfaction on his face although she knew she could instantly wipe that away if she so chose to.

His hands settled on her waist, holding tightly as he let his tongue freely move about her mouth, trying to explore every inch of it. He was feeling satisfied in this, feeling as though she was there at his mercy. But her thigh pressed up against his crotch, causing a stutter in his movements and unexpected moan.

He had to pull away, looking down at her with half lidded lust clouded eyes. She only stared at him innocently, moving to take off her shirt. And he was quick to follow.

"Let me touch you?" He asked softly after discarding his shirt.

"Don't really have to ask" she sounded almost annoyed, placing his hands on her sides. As he let his hands explore the soft exposed skin he lean down, face in her neck. "wanted to be a gentleman" was grumbled against the skin as he kept touching her. Gently kissing at the junction between her neck and shoulder as his hands met her chest.

An annoyed sigh left his mouth at the fabric keeping him from properly touching them. He was too nice of a boy to acknowledge it earlier but he knew she had a nice chest. And as the boob guy he was he was rather excited. His hands were quick to trail behind her back, getting at those clasps quickly.

As he sat up to help her completely pull off her bra his eyes sparkled. She did have a nice chest, infact he was sure he loved it he thought. His hands were quick to cup them, feeling himself twitch against his jeans at the softness. He could do this forever.

When he realized her gaze was fixated on him and his awed look he flashed a bright smile. Leaning down to press kisses onto her collarbone.

"You have a really nice body, so beautiful" he mumble out softly, green eyes staring up at her as he left those soft kisses. Instead of venturing lower like he would've liked to he was pulled up into another kiss.

He smiled against her lips, loving the soft feeling of them against his. He really hadn't realized how worked up he had gotten until a slight shift had his hips pressed against hers. And he had to hold back a whimper at the feeling. It embarrassed him how horny he was, he usually didn't feel this way nor move so quickly. But the feeling of her leggings inching down made him ready to rip off everything and just be inside.

He sat up, his face slightly flushed as he looked down at her lightly panting. He was tugging at his belt as he watched not only her legs be exposed but also her cunt. She really did move fast, but he would be lying if he said he didn't love this pace.

His pants were quickly tugged off and he was now spreading her legs, getting ready to dive right in when she stopped him with a gentle tug of the hair.

"That won't be necessary" his eyes went wide, she really wasn't gonna let him please her? His mouth hung open for a moment but he sat up anyway, looking down at the girl.

"Then should..." his voice trailed off slightly, not positive what to ask but as her gaze trailed to his boxers he got the message, quickly pulling them down.

After he took his boxers off he tried to get on top of her but was pushed onto his back. She climbed ontop of him straddling his waist. He looked up at her as she gently grabbed his cock, before she let him inside her she looked down at him.

"By the way if I fuck and make you cum you gotta promise not to stress me. Don't be blowing up my phone and don't be leaving voice messages" she said with a smile, making fun of what he said earlier. He tried to retort but she pushed the tip against her, he pressed his lips shut.

Her being on top of him did slightly ruin his usual method but he was sure he wouldn't have a problem, or could take back control and get on top eventually. He was pretty confident in this, he's always been good at lasting long.

She in one swift quick motion made their hips meet. He didn't know what happened but he let out a grunt and instantly released inside of her. His eyes were shut tight and he gripped the sheets as he drained his load. She was quite surprised but stayed as she was.

After about a minute he opened his eyes, his face was red and the embarrassment set in.

"I-I-I" he just stuttered over again. She put a finger over his lips, beginning to rock her hips back and forth. A loud moan left his lips. "Y-y-y/n you.. you can't do that... it's too much" he said grunting and moaning, his eyes closing tightly and his hand grabbing her waist.

"Come on Midoriya you were supposed to make me cum, wheres the fun in me getting one thrust" she teased him a big smirk on her face, but she did stop moving her hips since he asked. He looked up at her, his face was red and his mouth was just left hung open. She could make out some sweat starting to drip down his face. "Well I'm disappointed but I guess if your already tapped out.." she said lifting her hips to get off of him, his hips thrusted upwards to her. He wasn't sure why but the feeling of even a little of that overstimulating pleasure leaving made his body react on its own.

"N-no, more please" he whined out, she looked down at him surprised again. He grabbed onto her hips as he continued to grind his up into them. His eyes were beginning to gloss over, with all the girls that he had been with before he never felt this way before. He had never cum so quickly, and had never chased pleasure after an orgasm. Something about her had him entranced and needing more.

"Oh I thought it was too much?" She teased seeing his head shake on the pillow, she pushed her hips back down over his. Making a loud moan leave his mouth.

"Oh god, yes please more!" He pleaded as her hips started to slowly move. He kept bucking his hips up into hers begging for her to ride him faster. Her wet walls were absolutely strangling him as she slowly bounced herself on his cock.

"Please! Faster!! I need it, please Y/n!!" He begged, his eyes growing teary again. She rolled her eyes at the begging boy beneath her, as bad as she wanted to tease him she couldn't will herself to as he shamelessly asked for more. So she raised herself almost completely off of him, sinking back down on his cock before going at an unfair pace.

Izuku squealed at the overwhelming pleasure he was feeling, he had never had a girl make him feel this way before. Usually he'd be routinely pounding away (not that he was complaining, he always got to get off) and working circles on her clit while saying the nastiest words into her ear. Or if he had a girl ride him (which was hardly ever) he'd be guiding her, fucking her down onto his cock. Possibly even holding her still just to pound up into her.

But this was a completely different and new pleasure, this felt better then any sex he had before. This made all his other sex compare to nothing more then his left hand.

He was writhing underneath her, holding onto her thighs bruisingly as she kept unfairly riding him. Her walls squeezing around him for all he was worth. And as much as the pleasure burned, as much as he thought he should stop, he just couldn't. Not when it felt this good.

He stared up at her with glossy emerald eyes as he kept squeezing her thighs, digging his nails into the plush flesh. Loud moans wouldn't stop leaving his mouth. She on the other hand looked unphased above him, riding him like this which was to her content because Izuku knew he was powerless right now. He felt like she was just using him as a toy, and god did he love being her dildo.

A loud gasp left his mouth, followed by a sob as she angled her hips a new way, allowing him to hit deeper inside her which resulted in her squeezing him tighter. Tears rolled down his cherry red cheeks as his head tossed back and forth across the pillow. His tight grip on her thighs turning deathening as he tried to take the burn of the overstimulation out on them.

"O-oh god, fuck, please, please!!" He cried out, not even knowing what he was begging for at that point. Her head tilted down to check in on the boy beneath her again, and god he looked ruined. Tears were streaming down blushing cheeks as he cried his pleasure, sweat matting his curled locks to his forehead.

"Please what pretty boy?" She asked and hearing her sultry voice, plus the nickname made him snap again. His back arched and his mouth fell open as he shoot inside her once again. A shrill scream escaped his throat as he thrashed at his second overwhelming orgasm.

Her pace never faltered, staring down at the boy in amusement as she kept greedily riding his cock. He didn't know how but he was still half hard at this point, and unfairly twitching back to life inside her. He really didn't think he could handle anymore but he'd be dammed if he asked her to stop.

His eyes were fixated on hers as she gazed down at him. Even with his blurry vision he could make out the smug look on her face. He couldn't stop himself from coming undone like this though, he would choose this pleasure over anything else.

"Such a pretty little thing you are" she purred out softly, a choked out moan leaving him in response. And a loud sob followed as her hands met his chest, expertly playing with his nipples. His thighs shook above the sheets at the new pleasure of her fingers rolling his buds. He'd never been touched that way before, and he really didn't think he could take it on top of everything else.

"Y/n.... Fuck! I can't... can't take it!" He cried out, his eyes squeezing themselves shut tight. Even as he said that he wouldn't let go of her thighs, and his cock still throbbed inside her.

Her hips didn't slow though, they probably sped he really couldn't tell anyone. And she just kept squeezing around him, the sensation was growing tighter. Her delicate fingers were still dancing on his chest, just adding to the overstimulation that was melting his mind with each pinch and roll of his sensitive nipples.

His thighs shook beneath her as his eyes shot open, crying out wishing for the burn to stop even if it felt so good. Her expression above him was no longer smug his blurry vision was finally able to decipher, in fact she was biting her lip and looked to be struggling. And from the way her gushing cunt wouldn't stop clenching around him his two functioning brain cells were able to tell what was gonna happen.

So he willed himself to buck his hips up into her unforgiving heat, wanting so desperately to help her cum even if he could barely think. She was caught off guard and her motions on his chest had to pause as she tried to collect her bearings. As much as she wanted to hold back, make it look like she had so much more self control then him, she was failing and she knew she was gonna cum soon.

"Please!! Please, leaaaseee!!" Izuku forced himself to scream out, it was the most coherent he could get even though it was horribly slurred by all the drool in his mouth.

She took the hint, cursing herself in the back of the mind as she let herself give in. No longer ignoring the tightly wound begging coil in her stomach she moved a hand down to rub her clit. Quickly coming undone and convulsing around his cock. Izuku couldn't be happier to see her cum "for him", it wasn't much of his doing but it satisfied him. So much that the sight had his eyes rolling back and his back arching off the bed, pouring a third load into her tight clenching pussy. Until he was whining and whimpering, it really had become too much.

She looked down at him and mercifully lifted herself off from his cock. Wiping the tears and drool away from his pretty face as he hazily stared up at her, a happy dopey grin on his face and unfocused emerald eyes close enough to meeting hers. She gave his forehead a kiss before getting off the bed, fetching a towel to clean him up.

His hazy eyes opened a little surprised as she started cleaning him up, mumbling his appreciation. He was practically passed out right now, barely paying attention as she got herself dressed again.

When he forced himself to sit up he felt like he couldn't look at her with anything other then pure adoration. He sighed dreamily "this is more then a crush, i just might be in love" whether it was with her or her pussy was still to be determined.

[flowerandblood]

» The Greed «

[ modern! mafia boss ✦ Aemond x female ]

[ warnings: sex content, smut, angst, domination, degardation, toxic and possessive behaviour ]

» The Golden Cage Special Chapter «

Aemond wants to be the only thing occupying his girlfriend’s thoughts. Although he expects her to pass her exams with good results at university, he also makes sure she doesn’t forget her priorities and responsibilities − namely him.

This work was created as part of a series The Christmas Drabbles which will consist of ten drabbles taking place after the events of some of my favorite fanfictions. Each of them is concerned with one feeling that dominates the characters at a given moment. This is my little gift to all my fans.

Word counter: 1.400

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

My other works: Masterlist

✦✦✦✦✦

Her father was furious when he found out she was moving to Aemond. He said he was an insane, ruthless and dangerous man, that she would never be safe with him, but she had made up her mind. The moment they decided to be together she understood that she was taking a risk, a certain discomfort that would always be part of the relationship.

His bodyguards stayed in a special room downstairs of his house, ready to react at any moment. After Luke's death, he and his relatives had become targets for attack and she knew that every time he left, he might not return.

So even though she knew what he had done, what kind of man he was, when he reappeared in the doorway of their bedroom she would throw herself into his arms in despair, feeling her heart pounding hard, he always smelled of cigarettes and smoke.

She could hear him hum contentedly as he snuggled his face into her neck with satisfaction, his hands embracing her body with ease, his lips whispering a barely audible "Missed me?".

Her words weren't enough for him, he needed a response from her body, his fingers checking her condition between her thighs wanting to make sure she was wet enough to satisfy him.

If she wasn't, he tormented her, sometimes for hours lying between her legs with his face pressed against her heat. He was teasing her clit with his nose as the tip of his tongue with slow movements accompanied by a loud click of her moisture rubbed the point inside her from which her body trembled in his hands.

Even as she studied for her exams at University, which he expected her to perform well in, he made sure she knew what her priorities were.

She could see it in the look in his eyes, amused, teasing as he sat across from her in his chair with a drink in his hand, sipping from it, toying with the glass in his palm until she lifted her gaze to him.

"What is it?" She asked, raising an eyebrow, though she knew perfectly well what he wanted, what he needed to prove to himself.

He answered nothing, his healthy eye only glowed as he took another sip from his glass, swallowing it loudly, licking his lower lip. He hummed under his breath, tapping his fingers on his wooden armrest.

"Are you well prepared for tomorrow's exam?" He asked lowly without taking his eyes off her, and she sighed quietly, putting her textbook aside, looking at him disapprovingly.

"You don't care." She said lightly, more stating a fact than wanting to hear his opinion. He snorted, reaching for his glass again with his lips, taking a quick sip from it and setting it down on the table beside him with a loud clatter.

"Of course I care. I want you to get the best grades possible." He replied sternly and coolly, and she laughed under her breath.

"So that's why you sit in front of me and stare at me expectantly, taking satisfaction in knowing you have my attention?" She asked cockily knowing her remark would infuriate him, she saw his pupil dilate, his iris practically black, his lips tightened into a thin line.

He didn't like it when she suggested he might have any weakness, even one for her.

"Come here and kneel." He commanded coldly, in a matter-of-fact, low tone that sent shivers through her. She swallowed loudly, knowing she was just balancing on the edge.

"No." She said confidently and he stood up, walking over to her. She snuggled her whole body into the couch she was sitting on, terrified, his hands on either side of her head, his face bent over her.

"You like to fucking get me off balance, hm? Test how much patience I have." He growled, turning her onto her stomach, aggressively, confidently sliding her panties off her thighs, exposing her buttocks from under her dress.

She breathed loudly knowing that this was what it would lead to, it always ended like this, his frustration with her and the fact that she was standing up to him wasn't because he was annoyed by her attitude, but because it turned him on, the fact that she was the only one he couldn't break, that she was taking what he was giving her even if he was brutal.

She drew in a loud breath and stifled a moan, not wanting to give him the satisfaction when his hand slapped her hard on the spot between her thighs, lifting her by her hips so that she had to lean forward. She swallowed loudly hearing the sound of his belt and zipper being undone, his loud, sharp breath.

"− you love it when I do this, don't you? − when I show you who has the last word −" He hissed, running his hand over her womanhood, spreading her moisture that slowly began to flow out of her.

He knew it was too soon, usually he would have caressed her with his tongue until it was leaking out of her. However, now he wanted to punish her, the head of his throbbing, swollen cock pushed mercilessly against her tight entrance, forcing her to fit him inside her.

Her body shuddered involuntarily, trying to pull away, but his hand in her hair, pressing her cheek against the couch and his hand holding her hip effectively prevented any of her movement.

"− no − fucking take it −" He growled, with a sure, deep thrust sliding deeper into her, she cried out loudly, clenching her fingers on the fabric of the couch, squeezing her eyes shut, feeling both pain and pleasure at the same time.

Immediately he imposed a fast, intense pace on her, deliberately rubbing the point just above her entrance each time, she pressed her lips together to hold back what wanted to burst out of her throat.

"− what's that? − my little birdy want to moan like a little slut she is? − hm? −" He mocked, panting loudly along with her, the slapping of his thighs against her buttocks accompanied by the increasing click of her juices, his cock stretching her walls rooting into her with increasing ease.

"− fucking look at you − you're not so sassy anymore when you're filled with my cock − babbling little baby, is that it? −" He gasped amused, speeding up, his hand slipped between her thighs, teasing two of her most sensitive points deliberately.

Despite her pride trying to clamp her mouth down a mewl of delight and surprise erupted from her throat, her body shook with a shudder of pleasure, her heart pounding like mad. He chuckled lowly, hearing this.

"− that's what I was fucking thinking − a babbling, sobbing little baby − that's what you are − made for me only to cum inside her whenever I fucking want to −" He hissed the last words almost in fury, imposing a fast, brutal pace on her, pressing her cheek against the couch with all his might, their bodies slapping against each other loudly, both of them moaning and panting on the edge of their fulfilment.

"− come on − you have to cum first −" He growled, and when she shook her head, he slid out of her, surprising her completely, and turned her onto her back, pushing her buttocks closer to him.

He knelt in front of her, thrusting into her again with confident deep movements of his hips, looking down at her, the tip of his cock each time he slid into her again rubbing the point inside her from which a loud cry of despair escaped her lips, her hands trying to keep him away.

"− come on − give it to me − please, baby, please −" He exhaled looking at her almost pleadingly, she felt a strong shudder shake her at his last words, her head tilted back in a loud surprised moan caused by how strong and pleasurable her orgasm was.

"− little birdy −" He mumbled out looking down at her with slightly parted lips, some kind of tenderness and affection in his gaze, his eyebrows arched as if in pain.

She saw him clench his eyelids in pleasure, giving in at last and he cum inside her with a sigh of relief, his thrusts more sloppy and slow when at last his seed spilled into her.

He lay on top of her, crushing her with his body, heedless of her discomfort, his face pressed against her cheek hot with exertion.

"Don't leave me." He whispered, and she stroked his hair, closing her eyes.

"Never."

✦✦✦✦✦

Aemond Taglist:

(bold means I couldn't tag you)

@its-actually-minicika @notnormalthings-blog @nikstrange @zenka69 @bellaisasleep @k-y-r-a-1 @g-cf2020 @melsunshine @opheliaas-stuff @chainsawsangel @iiamthehybrid @tinykryptonitewerewolf @namoreno @malfoytargaryen @qyburnsghost @aemondsdelight @persephonerinyes @fan-goddess @sweethoneyblossom1 @watercolorskyy @randomdragonfires @apollonshootafar @padfooteyes

[friedbaekhyunandeggso]

found you - ch. 5 (part III)

pairing: gojo satoru x female oc (ara natsuna)

tropes: psycho! rival! athlete! yandere! gojo x introvert! booksmart! sheltered! rbf! oc

warnings: 18+ only babes, stalking/possessive themes, profanity, coercion, pet names (kitten), gaslighting, manipulation, underage drinking, praising, unprotected & protected sex, rough sex, mentions of suicide & depression, toxic jealousy, begging, chokehold, fingering, squirting, oral (f receiving), overstimulation, w33d, mentions of hard drugs (ecstasy, cocaine)

word count/plot: [15.5k!] ara catches gojo's attention when news breaks that she is the top academically ranked student in their grade. he is ranked second. he tries to befriend her but she ignores him. despite her obvious disinterest, his obsession begins...

a/n: ok this part took me forever to write bc i lowkey suck ass at writing backstories. hopefully ya'll r able to understand what i wrote for that part (you'll see what i mean once u read it). also i skim editted this chapter so if some of it is in lowercase, don't blame me. i actually prefer to type in lowercase but since i started writing this fic with correct capitalization i wanted to be consistent w that. anyway, have fun reading. i'm so excited to read ur guy's comments hehe

ch. 1 , ch. 2 [ part 1 | part 2 ] , ch. 3 , ch. 4 , chapter 5 [ part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 ]

Ara pulled the blanket up to Millie’s shoulders. She was passed out, like most of her classmates once they brought the party inside the penthouse suite of the hotel. It was nearly 5 am so she couldn’t blame them.

“Psst.”

Ara glanced over to see Gojo walking her way, a drink in hand. She knew he didn’t drink so..

“If that drink is for me then you can put it away.”

He grinned, “Nah it’s water.”

“Oh,” she took it from him and then took a sip, only to spit it out, “That’s vodka!”

“Eheheh,” She shoved him as he sat down on the couch beside her. He motioned towards Millie, “She’s out?”

Ara nodded, “She drank enough for everyone combined.”

“That’s what I’m talking about.”

Ara squinted, “You don’t even drink.”

“Shhh,” he slipped his hand into hers, “Can I steal you now?”

“For what?”

“I have to show you something.”

She was silent for a moment, “It’s too early for a prank.”

He grinned brightly, “It’s not a prank. I promise.”

She let him take her by the hand and lead the way. As they walked through, she spotted Choso laying down passed out a bean bag and Geto asleep on the couch across from him, his leg hanging off the edge.

Gojo led her to one of the rooms, opening the door a bit carefully to peek inside and make sure it was the right one before pushing the door wide open for her. He motioned with his chin for her to go in, a little smirk on his face.

She entered to see balloons covering nearly every square inch of the floor, making the bed almost look like an island. The lit candles made the vast, modern room smell of comforting vanilla, maybe a hint of strawberry as well. The glass windows were wide open, revealing a sickening view of their beautiful city.

She was astonished, “Gojo..” she was about to turn around to face him but suddenly a hand rested on back, urging her forward.

“Keep going.”

She complied with his gentle pushes towards the bed, pushing aside balloons as they went. That was when she spotted the rather big box on the flower petal covered bed. The box was perfectly wrapped in glossy white wrapping paper with a pastel purple bow at the center.

She sat down on the bed, her eyes widening as she took in the box’s size.

He spoke quietly, “Open it.”

She glanced up at him, “Toru, what did you do..”

 “Just open it, open it.” he urged.

She noticed his barely contained excitement and shook her head subtly. He’d already given her so much, much more than she could ever ask for and yet here he was. Giving her a gift, as if he didn’t give her several on the daily.

He plopped down on the bed across from her, resting his head on his arm as he eagerly watched her pick up the box.

She ripped open the neat wrapping only to gape when she saw the orange box underneath. Thin black ribbon was tied around the box as well, but she’d be a fool to miss the ‘Hermes’ logo printed at the center.

“Gojo, what—“ she sputtered, at a loss for words, “You.. oh my god.”

His barely contained smirk broke out into a full grin. He continued to urge her, “Keep opening it.” He was almost tempted to open it for her at the pace she was going.

Once she got the wrapper fully off, he easily pulled the ribbon loose for her. Watching with a smile as she opened the box. 

Inside was her very first Birkin. It was mainly off-white, with an ombré effect of light brown at its edges. The crocodile pattern was unmistakable. The shiny, white-gold diamond latch glittered iridescently under the dim light. (a/n: if anyone is curious abt the bag https://madisonavenuecouture.com/products/hermes-birkin-25-himalaya-niloticus-crocodile-diamond-encrusted-hardware)

She was in awe.

He cupped her elbow, thumb gliding over her forearm gently, “Happy birthday, kitten.”

She set the box down, too shocked to even touch the bag itself. This was unlike any of the Birkin’s she’d ever seen—even though she’d only seen them in videos and in Shoko’s mother’s closet but still. Its grandeur was obvious and the diamonds-real diamonds on a bag? she couldn’t even comprehend it.

“Satoru… how? Why?” It seemed english wasn’t coming to her very easily, “How much was this?”

His hand slid up her elbow to her nape. He sat up to kiss her neck. His lips on her throat made her heartbeat scatter.

“Nothing compared to you.”

“Toru,” she backed away slightly, “This isn't smart. I don’t even wear bags that much-“

“Now you will.”

She met his gaze, only for her pounding heartbeat to quicken. He was looking at her with so much adoration, maybe a hint of lust but most of all, his gaze was filled with..

She glanced away, murmuring, “This is too much.”

He always did this. Gifting her the most expensive things so easily. It never failed to make her uncomfortable at first, making her feel like he was trying to compensate her for her affection only until she realized he truly liked it—giving her things. His love language was gifts.

His fingers caressed her hair for a moment before he let go of her nape.

“Open the purse.”

Her eyes widened, “What?” 

He didn’t respond, merely pushing the box towards her.

When she didn’t move he took her hand and placed it over the Birkin’s diamond latch, expectantly waiting for her to open it.

She opened the latch hesitantly, her fingertips gliding over the bag's rigid yet wearable material before slipping her hand within. She immediately felt something.

She withdrew her hand to see a small velvet box in her palm. She opened the box to reveal a beautiful petite white-gold diamond ring. It had a twisted over pattern, with diamonds embedded in each twist. She nearly gasped.

He suddenly reached within the collar of his shirt and shuffled out a thin silver chain around his neck. At the end of the chain was a ring made of the same material as hers, shaped more like a band.

His face was flushed.

“This ring is my promise to you.” His bright blue eyes met hers and he looked serious-for once.

She noticed his adam’s apple bob in his neck.

“I promise to keep you the happiest girl in the world. I promise to give you every piece of me and more,” The corner of his lip lifted subtly, “I promise to burn down the world for you, if that’s what you want-“

She chuckled airily, shaking her head.

He took her hand, “Listen to me, I know I haven’t always been the best man but I can’t live without you, you hear? I can’t live without you.”

His eyes dropped to her hand in his, his brows furrowing,  “When you broke up with me I hated it. I hated being away from you..” 

“I never stopped thinking about you, you know,” he scanned her face, “You're right in front me and I still can’t.”

She couldn’t hold his gaze.

“I love you, Ara.” he said softly.

His thumb ran over her ring finger, “You’re getting a promise ring now but there’s gonna be an engagement ring here one day. You’re gonna be my wife.” he spoke so definitively, as if it were already fated.

She let out a small, awkward laugh, “Your seriously talking about marria-”

“I am serious.”

“You sure?” her voice was low, tantalizing, “Shoko told me you don’t believe in monogamy.”

He chuckled, “I do now.”

“Why?”

“I found you.”

She stared at him as he slid the ring onto her finger, his hand lingering over hers before he returned her stare.

The next thing he knew she was crawling into his lap, drawing him a hug so tight her narrow arms shook from the strength she was exerting. He smiled. He wound his arms around her just as tight while peppering her temple with kisses. His hand tangled itself in her hair before tugging her head back.

He leaned towards her but she pressed a hand to his chest, stopping him before their lips met.

“You can’t take that back y’know.”

“What?”

Her hands tightened around his collar, completely losing her train of thought when she felt his hard-on brush her ass. 

Her cheeks grew warm, “e-everything you just said.”

“Never.” he panted, suddenly digging his fingers into her ass before flipping her over onto the bed—him atop her. “Never, never, never.”

Her eyes widened when she saw the mirror on the ceiling. She could see everything.. her reflection.. his face in her neck, eagerly leaving love bites.. his muscular shoulders rippling under his shirt as he reached between her legs, spreading them. His fingertips grazed her pussy lips before curling around her thong. He yanked it off.

She jolted, a loud gasp leaving her lips.

His face came before her, the ring on his thin chain dangling between them, “You’re mine Ara, forever.”

She threw her head back, her head resting on his shoulder while his face dug into the crook of her nape, his lips territorially marking her neck.

His cock pistoned in and out underneath her, his hips smacking into her ass as she sat completely naked over his lap. She was making the most obscene noises, she couldn’t help it. The hand of his that wasn’t gripping her hip was right above her cunt, his fingers working her clit.

“fuckk—toru! toru!!hnnn~” her body arched.

His fingers dug into her hip, his cock slamming into her harder. His finger playing with her clit at a dizzying pressure.

“you feelso fucking good, birthday girl.” he rasped out.

She whined.

He watched her writhe atop of him, her head bouncing on his shoulder with each forceful fuck. Her hair jumped with each thrust of his hips, the dark strands splayed out over his chest, shoulder and neck. Her mouth was wide open. Her tits swinging up and down hypnotically.

The tear stained black mascara trailing down her cheeks made his cock jerk with more stamina. He bit her narrow shoulder.

She yanked at his fluffy white hair, “TORU!!”

“cum ara, cum right fucking now.”

She shook her head wildly. “satoru..please, i can’t-f-fuck.”

His cock hammered into her, she could barely breathe. everything hurt. she swore she could feel his cock head swell within her. his cock was so hard.

She gasped out between fucks, “hnn—can’t, toru. can’t. so big. too big.”

“i know i’m big baby. but your cunny can take it, i know she can.”

She tried to push away his hand at her clit, “i can’t,” she cried, “t’much—“

His hand remained fixed over her navel, instead his fingers picked up the pace. his cock grinding into her cervix, making her cunt let out the most embarrassingly wet sounds she’d ever heard.

Her eyes rolled to the back of her head, “ohhhhhnnnnm~”

Her body burned with pleasure. his cock felt obscenely hot inside her as she felt herself twitch around him. His cock made her feel so deeply full, she wondered if her cunt had finally been stretched to the limit–if he’d finally broken her.

“Ohmygod-my god-nghhh!”

Her body jerked atop him, wave after wave of pleasure coursing through her. Feeling like this shouldn’t be real–all of this-him-couldn’t be real.  she couldn’t take it.

She moaned weakly. her cunt spraying liquids despite him still being inside her—deliriously grinding his cock deeper into her. His cockhead touching her deepest parts.

“Araaaaa~” he sighed brokenly into her ear. She felt like heaven.

Her eyes flitted open as her jerking subsided. She caught sight of herself in the mirror above and froze. The sight caused a cold jolt up her spine.

She looked... slutted out. her eyeshadow, mascara and liner had all blurred together into a seamless smoky eye, minus for the trails of supposedly waterproof mascara running down the corners of her eyes. her lipstick was smudged. her skin was covered in hickeys, including one on her chin. several on her cleavage and tits. Her nipples were surrounded by teeth marks.

His white hair tickled her cheek as he shifted slightly, his cock still inside her. His hot breath traveled down her neck, making her skin tingle. she couldn’t help but notice how large his muscular thighs looked underneath her smooth ones.

Her body jerked once more, an aftermath of her high.

“Good girl.” he praised, giving her clit a small squeeze–making her entire body twitch. She whined as he laughed, his fingers continuing to explore her. He touched the wetness along her pussy lips.

She heard his breath hitch beside her ear, “This pussy is gonna be the death of me.”

Her cunt constricted around his cock and he growled. his fingers suddenly digging deep into her hips, making her yelp.

She tried to grab his wrists and pry his hands off but it was too late.

His cock plunged into her ruthlessly.

She felt his hot, white cum spill into her. spurting along her cramped walls. she felt it travel and dribble out of her cunt, spilling down her inner thighs.

his cum was so warm.

She squeezed her thighs together, which only drew out more cum from his cockhead. she shivered, a low whine leaving her.

“Happy birthday.” he whispered above her.

Her eyes flashed opened only to close a millisecond after when his hips bucked into her again, slowly and deep. fucking his seed back into her.

He hummed as she mewled meekly underneath him. his shoulders flexed.

“You're not even someone i should go to for this.”

“What—why?”

“Cuz you drive hella fast.”

He snapped her seat belt in place for her, “Listen, I’m still a good teacher.”

“Are you?”

“I am.”

“How?”

“I just am.”

She narrowed her eyes, “Love the confidence but seriously, why can’t you just let me have a driving instructor?”

“Cuz i want to teach you, kitten. Isn’t it gonna be so cute when you tell our kids one day-“ he mockingly began to use a kid voice, “ ‘mommy how did you learn how to drive? ‘your daddy taught me—“

She punched him in the shoulder, making him yelp. He immediately cradled his arm, groaning as if she’d brutalized him.

“Can you stop being a dumbass?” she gripped the steering wheel, “Tell me what to do.”

“Get in the back seat.”

Her glare was fierce as he quickly amended, “Okay, okay, pull out this parking spot.”

“Okay.” she pressed the gas pedal only for the car to make a loud ‘vroooom’ sound but not move.

“It’s not moving.” she stated.

He was laughing, “Because you didn’t change the gear.”

“You didn’t tell me that!”

The maid opened the door for them and they walked through. Gojo’s laughter filling the lobby.

He shook his arm around Geto’s shoulders, “Suguruuu, don’t be jealous.”

Geto shouldered him off, “I’m not jealous.”

Ara walked in after them, eyes glued to her phone.

The maid faced them, “Gojo sir, I must inform you your Dad is here. He’s currently in the gardens.”

Gojo’s grin immediately faltered, “He is?”

The maid nodded.

His voice deadpanned, “When did he come?”

“Less than an hour ago, sir.”

“Hmm,” he nodded subtly, “Thanks Macy.”

Macy merely nodded before excusing herself. Ara caught Geto’s tense expression.

Gojo spoke first, “You guys can chill in my room. I won’t be long.”

She stepped up to Gojo, “What’s wrong?”

A small smile found its way to the corner of his lip, “Nothings wrong,” his hand slipped up the side of her face, “Just wasn’t expecting him that’s all.”

She searched his face, “Are you gonna be alright?”

His smile widened, “I’ll be perfect, baby.”

She stared out the window of Gojo’s study. Her hand tightening around the circular windowsill as her eyes raked the expanse of the well kept greenery before deciding it was useless. Wherever they were they wasn’t visible from her vantage point.

She was drawn from thoughts when a loud ‘thunk’ resounded from somewhere behind her.

She turned to see Geto with a book at his feet. He bent over to retrieve it, “Oops.”

She waited a brief moment, watching as he dusted off the cover before flipping it open-skimming the pages.

“Geto.”

He immediately glanced up, his eyes a silent ‘yes?’

“Is his Dad bad?”

He glanced sideways for a moment before asking, “Satoru hasn’t mentioned him?” The question wasn’t mocking, merely inquiring with a calmness that felt almost reassuring.

There was a beat of silence, “No.”

He shut the book in his hand, a light sigh escaping him, “I don’t like him, if that’s what you wanna know. You should let Satoru tell you the whole story though.”

“There’s a story?”

He smiled slightly, “Isn’t there always?”

The bedroom doors swung open, immediately making Ara’s head snap up from the book in her lap. She sat up on the bed just as Gojo entered. If he’d been stressed it was hard to tell because the second his eyes landed on her a wide grin swept across his lips.

He crawled onto the bed, easily crowding her space to kiss her neck before laying his head on her lap.

“Satoru.” She rested her hand on forehead, pushing his hair back, “How was it?”

He sighed, eyes flitting closed, “It was fine. He left—thank god.”

“You don’t like him?”

His eyes fluttered open, examining her. He rarely talked about his family and she wasn’t slow enough to believe that was just a coincidence.

He shook his head. His index finger twirling around a strand of her hair, “He wanted to see you.”

“He knows about me?” she asked, shocked.

His hand went still within her hair, “Everyone knows about you.”

She held his gaze for a moment, “So why didn’t you let him see me?”

She saw the corner of his mouth twitch, “Cuz you don’t like meeting new people.”

“..and?”

“Cuz he doesn’t deserve to yet.” His voice held more of an edge than she expected.

And that look in his eye…she hadn’t seen that on him in a while. It reminded her of when she’d struck him, the first night he had his way with her.

He took her hand from his forehead and slid it down to his cheek, lightly kissing her wrist as he did so.

“Let me explain,” he paused, as if gathering his thoughts–until his brows furrowed and he realized he wasn’t sure where to begin.

He played with her fingers as he spoke, “My Dad has a twin. Identical. But they couldn’t be more different–honestly.” he chuckled quietly.

“How?”

 “I guess my Dad’s more likable–had this quality about him that made people want to listen. While my Uncle.. well, let's say he’s persuasive in his own way.”

He continued, “The point is. They competed with each other a lot-over everything and anything. My Dad thought of their competition as harmless fun but my Unc-not so much. He’ll never admit it though, if you ask him, but everyone knows.”

“Everyone?”

“Everyone in my family,” he clarified, before smirking up at her, “It’s gonna be your family too y’know so pay attention.”

She rolled her eyes, “What do you think I’m doing.”

He smiled slightly, “Anywho, Unc should’ve felt like he won this little competition since he was given full reins of the family business but I guess he still held a grudge. Dunno if it’s cuz Dad’s political success or Dad bein’ Gramps favorite–or Mom but-”

He cut himself off, “Right, so my Mom was actually a bet between Dad and Unc. She was Unc’s college crush and for fun they decided to see who could get with her. Dad won her over and they ended up falling in love. They got married but.. my Mom never got used to it-the politician life.”

He went on, “Dad’s career as the Director of National Intelligence was actually very strategic. It was something my Gramps wanted to get his eyes in on cuz oil refinery is more political than you might think, like they're some countries we weren't permitted to source from due to a bad political climate–even though our company is private. It was something Gramps wanted to work around and possibly manipulate—”

Ara blinked, “Wouldn’t that be illegal?”

“Just a little,” he smirked, “It wasn’t just that though, you’d have to ask Gramps the details–except he’s dead, but anyway~”

Ara’s eyes widened as he nonchalantly went on, “The beef between Dad and Unc really hit the fan a few months after Gramps died–which isn’t surprising cuz Gramps was sorta the mediator but.. I guess, it was inevitable.”

Despite his nonchalance she could tell his next words were harder for him to say, “So basically Unc had a business deal going with Israel, worth about $2 billion but since-everything going on politically, socially, you name it-Dad did not want to get involved, especially monetarily. But Unc didn’t agree, he wanted to juice as much money as he could since the US was sending Israel money anyway and he wanted a piece.”

He continued, “Dad knew he would try to see the deal through with or without his call so he started involving himself in the family business to supervise Unc which he was not happy about, so you can imagine they argued–a lot. At the office, at the house, everywhere. Dad ended up kicking Unc outta the house and threatened to hurt him if he came back.”

He sighed, “I didn’t know Dad kicked him out, I wasn’t there for that argument. Instead I was sad that Unc wasn’t coming around anymore cuz we usually hung out a lot. We hung out more than Dad and I did anyway.”

He shook his head, “I didn’t suspect anything when Unc called me to let him in so I did. We talked for a bit, caught up, he gave me a bottle of alcohol to give my Mom. I told him to give it to her himself but he said he wanted it to be a surprise for her and asked me to keep it a secret that he came by.”

She saw something flicker in his expression as he went on, he stopped playing with her fingers.

“Mom wasn’t in a great mental state–she never was, to be honest, not after marrying Dad. She hated the fame, paparazzi, everything that came with it but she tolerated it because she loved Dad. I-” Gojo never stuttered, “I didn’t know that she was an alcoholic because she hid it from me so well. She always acted happy when she was with me. She never wanted me to see her.. down. I didn’t know Unc and Dad helped her through the alcoholism and depression cuz I didn’t even know it was an issue.”

His voice was tight but he quickly recovered, “So I left the bottle on her vanity, just like he asked and she drank it all, breaking her sobriety of six months. Dad found her drunk and they started fighting–I didn’t realize they were arguing about her sobriety, I just thought he was mad she drank in general so I tried to intervene but Mom left the room once I got there. Dad and I ended up arguing but nothin' came of it cuz he basically told me to shut the fuck up and get out of his face.”

His bright blue eyes were somewhat dull as he glanced up at her, “I should tell you my Dad isn’t usually an asshole but when he’s mad he’s a different person. Everything ticks him off. He was.. in this mood for a while and Mom breaking her sobriety didn’t help. She started drinking a lot again and they were just yelling all the time. No one would tell me what was going on, Mom was pushing me away and I blamed Dad for it. It felt like he was mad at everyone for no reason and I wanted him to stop.”

He exhaled, “Unc came by again and I told him everything-about Mom and Dad fighting.. how it was.. getting to me. Unc asked me why they were fighting and I told him I didn’t know. Unc then asked me if Dad was hitting Mom and I realized I wasn’t sure. But the theory made sense because why else would Mom avoid me? She probably didn’t want me to see her bruises or marks and explain that Dad did them.”

“Obviously this theory made 10 year old me extremely upset so Unc’s solution was to give me his gun. He told me the next time I overheard Mom and Dad fighting to wave it around to scare Dad off-”

Ara’s eyes widened, “What–he gave a gun to a kid? What type of solution is that?”

A low, dry laugh left him, “At the time it made sense to me cuz Unc and I used to go hunting together and all that but he also told me Dad kicked him out the estate so I kinda did want to scare him some way cuz he really felt like public enemy 1. It felt like he was tearing the family apart.”

He ran a hand through his hair, “That night…when I was in bed I heard Mom scream–and a shit ton of thrashing. I didn’t think, I grabbed the gun and ran. I saw Dad on top of somebody, throwing punches and I-I didn’t–” he spoke through gritted teeth before exhaling, “I didn’t mean to hit him.”

Her eyebrows skyrocketed, “You shot your Dad?”

“I did. Straight through the head.”

Ara’s jaw dropped, “But wait-but your Dad.. he’s still ali-”

He squeezed her hand, “Listen, listen. I thought he was on top of Mom, beating her but it turns out he was on top of my Uncle. Mom was just in the room, yelling at him to stop because I guess my Uncle just showed up uninvited.”

He stared at her, fingers tightening around hers, “My Dad died that night. I didn’t know what the hell to do. I was freaking out but Unc came up with a plan.”

He closed his eyes, “Unc said he would take the blame. He told us to tell the cops that he snuck into the estate-which he did-and that he tried to hurt Dad but then Dad shot him. Except he would pretend that he was Dad. And that the man who died was Unc.”

She was astounded, “So… your Uncle pretended to be your Dad?”

He nodded, “Yes, and he still is. The world currently thinks my Dad is alive.”

Ara was speechless as he continued, “No one else knows because Unc and Dad are identical twins. Same blood type and-miraculously-same fingerprints, etc.”

She blinked as he sat up beside her, not letting go of her hand.

He looked at her expression with a small knowing smile, “I know you have questions.”

She glanced over at him, “Why did he do that? Did he not want you to face any repercussions?”

He nodded, “I thought he was protecting me but now I know he schemed it all. He manipulated me.”

Ara’s eyes widened, “How do you know?”

“He knew about my mom’s alcoholism and told me to give her a bottle. He sneaks into the estate and causes drama the same night he gives me a gun? A gun with the safety off?” He shakes his head, “It's not a coincidence at all.”

“If he wanted to kill your Dad, why couldn’t he just kill him himself?”

“That would’ve got him nowhere but jail. But making me do it gives him all the leverage. Pretending to be Dad to protect me gives him everything he wants. My mom, Dad’s position-his connections, the family business—all in his lap.”

He laughed dryly to himself, “Well the only thing he didn’t get for long was Mom. She killed herself.”

“What?!” she exclaimed in shock.

“It was two weeks after Dad died. Found her body in the pond by the gardens. She overdosed on prozac.”

“Prozac?” Ara gasped, “the antidepressant?”

He nodded, a small sad smile spreading across his lips, “Ironic isn’t it.”

She was silent for the longest moment, processing it all. She almost couldn’t believe it was real. It felt like the plot of some really dark CEO drama but this was reality. His reality—his life. He’d only been 10 years old. A ten year old murderer.

“I wanted to believe Unc had something to do with her death.. but I know he would never hurt her. He loved her.. She left me on her own.”

Her eyes widened. This was the saddest she’d ever seen him. His eyes glossier than normal, his jaw clenched tight and yet his lips were twisted in a bitter smile.

“I would’ve done anything she asked. We could’ve taken Unc down together but she left me.”

She squeezed his hand, “Toru-“ she murmured.

“Isn’t it funny? I feel like I found out more about her after she died. All her thoughts were in her diary, everything. If she’d just told me when she was alive-I could’ve—“ he shook his head, a shiny tear slipped down his cheek, “I don’t kn-I-“

“Stop.” she pulled him into her chest, “Stop.”

He sagged into her smaller frame, clutching her waist so tight she nearly lost her breath. For the first time in her life, she felt him trembling.

Her small fingers raked through his hair, “You were just a kid. How were you supposed to know everything she was going through? She probably didn’t tell you because she wanted to protect you.”

His arms wrapped around her tighter, “She could’ve protected me by staying alive.”

Her hand went still in his hair, “Don’t you know already, adults are selfish.”

She then realized that maybe that wasn’t the most constructive thing to say.

“I’m sorry, I meant-“

“No, you're right.” his voice was muffled in her sweater, “They are selfish. Everyone is. You have to be in this world.”

He laughed softly to himself, “Eat or be eaten.”

She shook her head, clutching his chin to make him look up, “I don’t know about all that but you have to know that her.. doing that isn’t your fault-“

“Doing what? Killing herself?”

Ara’s mouth opened partially before closing. Then opening again, “Yes.”

He smiled faintly, “You can say it y’know. She killed he-“

She flinched-snapping, “Stop, it’s not a joke.” her hands tightened around his face, “what i-i’m saying is that it’s not your fault. It was her choice. She knew the consequences. You don’t have to agree with her but you have to respect it.”

She cupped his face more gently, “It doesn’t make you any less of a person, it’s what you do now that counts. She’s still watching over you.”

His gaze seemed distant, “She’ll get her justice.”

Ara blinked, “Justice?”

His eyes suddenly sharpened, “My uncle. I still need him. I don’t know how to run the business myself yet.”

Her eyes widened, “What—y-you don’t mean kill him, right?”

Suddenly a wicked grin appeared upon his lips. He leaned close, his lips brushing over hers, “Some things are worse than death, kitten.”

She gently rubbed the face mask across her cheeks. It was a yummy baby pink color and smelled rather delicious. strawberry poundcake. it already made her skin feel cool with one application.

She used the little tool it came with to scoop more product and apply it to her forehead only to flinch when she saw Gojo in the bathroom. he stood with his back to the door, arms crossed. a crooked smile on his lips.

“Hey kitten~”

She shook her head, “I hate you.”

He grinned, making his way towards her, “You love mee.”

He stood behind her, his hands interlaced behind himself. He bent down to kiss her on the head but she moved out of his way.

“Why do you like scaring me?” she grumbled, rubbing in her face mask with a bit more ferocity.

“heh. it’s not my fault you're as unaware as a baby chick.” He held her shoulders and kissed her temple-where her face mask hadn’t been applied yet.

She shoved him off, “toru! my face mask.”

It seemed a bit of the mask had landed on the tip of his nose. he wiped it away with his thumb, looking at it curiously, “mmm, smells yummy.”

She raised a brow as he continued to stare at the blob on his finger and gripped his wrist the second he brought his finger towards his lips.

“Are you stupid? it’s not edible.”

She grabbed a nearby hand towel and hastily wiped it off his finger before tossing the towel somewhere on the counter.

He watched silently as she continued applying the face mask on her face. His eyes glowing with curiosity.

“What’s it supposed to do?”

“Make you poreless.”

He picked up the face mask jar to read the description just as she’d been reaching for some more. She sucked her teeth impatiently.

He slid the jar back to her. He blinked innocently, “Can I use some?”

“No.”

“Whyyyy~”

“Cuz you're already poreless.”

That made him grin. He touched the sides of his face as he leaned towards the mirror, “Am i?”

She rolled her eyes. It was too early for his buffoonery. This was supposed to be self-care sunday. emphasis on self. And she’d told him that, yet here he was.

He leaned against the bathroom counter, facing her with a mischievous glint in his eyes, “If you wanted a face mask you could’ve jus asked me.”

Her brows furrowed-confused-only to freeze when she realized. She grimaced, “Your nasty as hell.”

“Oh come on~”

She shoved him as he neared her, “Stop. You're actually annoying me.”

“Araaaa~”

“Stop.”

“Okay, okay fine. I’ll stop. I promise.”

“Promise what.”

“Not to annoy you.”

“Then why are you coming closer to me?”

He tugged her close, resting his chin atop her head. Her small frame easily fitting into his chest.

“Because i wanna be near you ‘kay?”

He kissed the corner of her neck, his hands gently squeezing her shoulders. She sighed.

He stared at her in the mirror as she continued to finish up the last of the face mask. His hands running up and down her arms repeatedly. the action oddly reassuring.

He kissed the top of her head, “Last night was fun right?” he muttered into her hair.

She blushed at the memory, “y-yeah.”

There were two things she found out last night. 1, Haibara knew how to throw a party. 2, never play hide and seek with Gojo. He’d pick the best hiding spot and no one would find you both, leaving you open to your demise at his hands.

Ara couldn’t walk after.

He smirked slightly, “What was your favorite part?”

She thought it over, “hmm probably when Geto shot all those bottles in a row. I didn’t think his aim was that good. oh! and that drink Shoko made, um, what’s it called-“

“Espresso martini.”

“Yes! That was soo good.”

his smirk widened as he nuzzled her head, “You drank a lot of green tea shots too.”

She nodded.

He kissed the crown of her head, “You look so good knocking shots back.”

She reddened, mumbling, “Shut up.”

He squeezed her shoulders once more, “Aren’t you gonna ask me my favorite part?”

She reddened more, “No.”

His arms slipped around her shoulders, squeezing her into him, “Pleaseeee~~~”

“Ah! toru! let go-“

He hugged her tighter.

“aHh! i can’t breathe. fine, fine!”

“Yayyy.” he loosened his hold on her and she smacked his arm.

“You promised not to annoy me.”

“Oopsies,” he grinned while staring at her ass as she bent down to pick up her fallen hair brush.

When she stood up, he placed his hands on her hips. pressing his groin right against her ass. She gasped, freezing the second she felt his erection.

He nipped at her ear, “My favorite part was holding your hips, just like this,” his fingers squeezed her hips, “and watching your ass bounce on my cock in that tiny little closet. Hearing your cute lil whimpers cuz you wanna keep quiet so bad. always so scared of getting caught-“

She faltered forward, her hands flat against the bathroom counter as he began to thrust his hard-on into her. as if his jeans and her towel weren’t in the way.

He nipped at her nape, leaving love bites along her soft skin. as if it wasn’t decorated enough.

“Your pussy gets wet so fast, kitten. everytime i fuck you your pussy makes such slutty sounds. mm-“

She gasped when the tip of his clothed cock rubbed against her bare pussy. It seemed he discovered that she wasn’t wearing anything under her towel. She saw his bright blue eyes go wide in the mirror's reflection before a devious smirk spread across his lips.

Just as she felt his hands tighten over her towel-a millisecond from ripping it off. She shoved him back.

“No!” she held her towel tightly to her chest, “Toru, please. we barely slept all night. I can’t—i can’t go another round.” she begged desperately.

“Aww~” he whined, before slipping his arms around her. Her hands on his chest weakly pushing him back. “Come on.”

“I’m gonna pass out.”

“You won’t.”

“Toru, seriously.” she looked up at him, “How can you even want to get freaky when i have this on my face.”

“You think a little face mask could stop my dick from getting hard?”

His eyes dropped to her lips, “If anything it jus makes me harder.”

Her eyes narrowed.

He pouted, “Next time you want a face mask just ask me ‘kay?”

She shoved him-successfully getting out of his hold this time, “Not happening.”

She began to clear up the bathroom counter, putting her skincare where it belonged. She glanced at him in the mirror’s reflection. she watched him tug at the belt of his pants, adjusting himself.

“C’monnn, mine probably has more natural benefits anyway.”

She looked at him incredulously, “Oh yeah? And what natural benefits would there be?”

He grinned, “my face mask is edible.”

She rolled her eyes, continuing to put stuff away, “Stop talking.”

He leant behind her, speaking in her ear, “Don’t act like you don’t like the taste. You always lick it up like your hungry-“

“Only because you feed it to me.” she spat.

She met his gaze in the reflection. fear immediately blooming in her gut the second she saw the fire in his eyes. 

Before he could move she darted around him, running straight out the bathroom. The second he moved to chase her, the bathroom door slammed shut in his face. He heard it lock from the outside.

“Ara!!” he whined, pushing at the door, “Ara!!”

“Ara.”

“Hm.” she barely looked up from her laptop. She was surprisingly focused for being outdoors. She wasn’t usually the type to study that well outside but something about the calm, breezy air of the estate’s gardens seemed to offer her enough solace to study.

He’d also been studying too but-of course-he finished whatever he had to do before her.

“Why’d you get a new phone?”

She froze, finally glancing up from her macbook to look at him. He was sitting on the fountain’s edge, with a loose black long sleeve and matching pants on.

He took off his sunglasses, letting the sunlight hit his eyes in a way that truly made them seem crystalline. He appeared apathetic but she knew he wouldn’t have asked if he wasn’t curious. She was just surprised he’d noticed that out of all of her purchases. She hadn’t even shown him the new phone yet. but of course, she wasn't naive enough to believe any of her purchases were unsupervised. whether he was there or not.

He raised a brow at her silence.

“Oh-um-well. I wanted to give it to my dad.”

“Oh!” he then paused before tilting his head, “And how do you plan on giving it to him?”

“I… i haven’t thought that far ahead yet.”

She’d just made the purchase yesterday.

“I can have Ijichi drop it off to his mailb-“

“No, no. It’s okay. I want to give it to him when I’m ready. or I’ll just keep it as a business phone.”

He grinned before singing, “i got two phones one for the plug and one for the load, i got two phones one for the bit—“ (a/n: he's singing 2 phones by kevin gates)

She shook her head, face-palming herself, “Please shut up.”

He threw his arms around her, squeezing her oh so tight before dropping his bags and hoisting her legs around his waist. He supported her with one arm around her ass before beaming up at her.

“We won the game! We won—“

She cupped his face, pressing a short kiss to his lips, “I’m proud of you baby.”

She saw a light flush crawl across his cheeks. His brilliant eyes searching her face, “Yeah?”

She felt his arm tighten around her bum. “Should we celebrate?” he asked, “Let’s travel somewhere, out of the countr-“

“No.”

“-try. Any country. You haven’t been out of America yet right? Let’s-“

“No, Toru, stop.”

He pouted, “C’monn. Don’t be lame. You don’t wanna travel with me?”

“I never said that.”

“Then why?”

“You want to celebrate your high school basketball game win by going out of the country?” she smacked his forehead with her palm, “We have school tomorrow idiot.”

“So? We’ll tell em it was an educational leave.”

“Educational leave?”

“Yeah..” his eyes dropped to her shapely tits in her school uniform, “for anatomy or something.”

She shoved his shoulder, “Yeah, I never want to travel with you.”

“What?!”

“Put me down.”

As she twisted in his hold, her tits inadvertently got in his face and he immediately opened his mouth to playfully bite one of them. She shoved his face back.

“Put me down!”

Geto sighed, shaking his head from behind them, “I hate third wheeling.”

Ara twisted in the sheets. Her eyelids squinting together as she tried to sleep but sleep wasn’t coming to her. It just wasn’t.

She threw the blanket off frustratedly. She adjusted her pillow before lying back against the headboard, half-sitting. She reached out to grab her phone from the nightstand only to frown when she realized the time.

1:07 am

She glanced at the empty spot in bed beside her. She was silent for a long moment before glancing back at her phone to see that she didn’t have any new text messages.

He should’ve been back by now.

She opened youtube on her phone. trying to distract herself.

1:43 am

She opened netflix on her phone. an episode of gossip girl might be fun.

2:35 am

She closed out of netflix, unable to ignore her frustration. She opened her phone app. Her thumb hovering over his contact name.

Suddenly the bedroom door opened, making her jolt.

Gojo entered the barely lit room, immediately shuffling out of his jacket and tossing it onto the couch before making his way towards the bed. She watched him shake his head, droplets of water spraying here and there as if he’d just showered.

He silently removed his phone and wallet from his pocket, quietly setting it down on the nightstand before his striking eyes met hers. His face brightened.

“Oh you're up?”

“Where were you.”

He blinked at the seriousness of her tone.

“Where were you?”

A slow grin spread across his lips, “You worried about me?”

She sat up, “I said, where were you?”

“I was at Geto’s, kitten. I told you I’d be there.”

“Why are you wet?”

He sat down on the bed, “I was in his pool for a bit.” 

He crawled towards her, she leaned back into the headboard.

“Then why do you smell like soap?”

“I showered after. I hate smelling like pool water.”

He leaned over to kiss her on the neck but she stopped him by pressing a hand to his shoulder.

She glared, “You smell like perfume.”

He blinked, “What?”

Her glare intensified, shoving him back.

“Wait-kitten,” he let out a small chuckle, “I don’t smell like perfume.”

“Don’t gaslight me.” she snapped.

His eyes widened at her tone but there was mischief in his gaze, “I’m not.”

“Smell your fucking shirt.”

He held up a corner of his shirt and smelt it. A smile broke out across his face, “Its Shoko’s. She hugged me before I left.”

Just as an insult nearly left her lips, she paused. He was right. She recognized that perfume–it was Shoko’s signature scent.

Her face reddened, “So you can hug girls but I can’t hug guys?”

A sly smirk lit his lips before he crawled on the bed towards her. He grabbed her leg, dragging her underneath him.

“Jealously looks so fucking sexy on you,” his eyes raked her up and down, making her feel devoured simply by that action. he pulled at the thin strap of her nightgown, “especially in this—“

She slapped his hand away, “don’t touch me.”

His hand slipped around her throat, “You think i fucked another girl, hm? Think I fucked her nice and hard and showered at her place?”

She felt her heartbeat fasten, her pulse throbbing in his firm grip. He bent lower above her. The tips of his damp hair scraping her forehead.

“You think another girl can take me like you do? Think another girl’s pussy can wrap around me so tight that I think my dick’s gonna get stuck inside? Think another pussy could squirt back to back like it’s begging to be creamed?”

She turned away, but his hand on her throat tightened. His thumb and index finger rested on her jaw and forced her to look up at him.

“No, Ara. No is the answer.”

He released her neck, sliding his hand down the front of her body. When she writhed, his other hand gripped the hair at the crown of her head in a fist. She gasped.

He cupped her pussy through the thin nightgown. She cried out. He gripped her cunt so tight, she didn’t understand how the entirety of his hand managed to cup it all.

“This is the only pussy i want.”

He yanked her nightgown up to her hips, easily slipping his hand into her underwear. His thumb found her clit and she jerked.

“Toru-!” she mewled.

He began to rub her clit in vigorous circles, “This is the only pussy that drives me insane. Only cunt i wanna ram into again n again, I can nut in you every single second of my life and it still wouldn’t be enough.”

She let out a strangled moan, her back arching as his pace slowed around her clit. He gently pressed the hard nub at a painstakingly slow pace, sending electric currents through her body.

She gasped with each press.

“Look at you, Ara, look at you.” his long white eyelashes fluttered as he looked down at her, a light pink flush across his cheeks.

Her eyes were squinted shut. a yummy pinkish red color on her cheeks. her nightgown was practically see through. She must’ve known because she wore a cloth bra-that barely contained her tits-underneath and matching underwear. He remembered picking that nightgown.

She looked so fucking delicious.

“You don’t even know how sweet your pussy tastes. It can make a sane man mad. It made me mad.”

His fingers gradually picked up the pace over her clit—knowing her weakness. knowing her pleasure.

Her legs trembled. She gripped his shoulders, back arching but he gripped her hair to keep her on the bed.

“torutorutoruTORUUUUUU!!!”

She squirt all over him, her juices flying into the air. wetting his shirt, his jeans, the sheets, everything.

Her body trembled, convulsing as she felt her inner thighs get sticky from her mess. Her pussy throbbing from her release. He always knew how to make her feel so fucking good.

Her eyes fluttered open, breathless, as she looked up at him. He wasn’t smiling but the gleam in his eyes was enough. It was enough to make her feel like nothing but a doll just made for him.

She jerked when she felt his fingers slide into her pussy, feeling up her gummy insides. Her fingernails dug into his shoulders, she was already so sensitive.

"Toru..” she gasped out.

He took his fingers out, watching her juice separate on his fingers as he spread them. He seemed lost, as if entranced.

“This… this makes me insane.”

He stuck both fingers in his mouth, cleanly licking her juices off them in one go before lowering himself to her pussy.

She tried to close her legs, “toru—wait!”

He buried his face between her legs, sucking her clit with the entirety of mouth—suctioning her clit perfectly with his tongue. sucking the resistance right outta her.

Her back arched against the bed as she cried out.

“nghhh!! toru-huuu-nghh” she was already so sensitive down there, god please, what is he doing?

He flicked at her clit with his tongue a few times before doing what he ultimately wanted. he lowered his face, burying his tongue into her wet cunt. She was a sopping wet mess down there. one that he couldn’t wait to fuck the sense into.

His tongue slid in and out of her, making her body jerk and tremble with her moans. She grabbed his hair, she couldn’t take it. something about his tongue always felt so fucking different—so fucking good.

She was throwing her head side to side, “toru! toru!! please, please!! enough!!”

He was licking her pussy like a madman. drinking her fucking juice straight from her cunt like he’d been thirsting for it all his life. She couldn’t deal with this. it was too much. 

Her legs shook as his tongue fucked into her, as if trying to taste all of her, all the way to inside of her soul.

She glanced down between her legs. at her hand in his soft white hair, at his eyes—glued to her pussy as if lost in a trance until suddenly, his eyes flickered upto her.

He lightly bit her clit.

She erupted. Her head flung back and her hands gripped his hair so tightly, refusing to let him go anywhere else. pleasure burst through her like a bomb had been ripped inside her body. she couldn’t breathe.

It didn’t help that he was licking up everything that poured out of her at lightspeed. as if he couldn’t let a drop go to waste. as if he had to drink it all to survive. she was already so sensitive now, this was too much—

she gathered as much strength as she could-despite feeling so weak-and managed to push his head back.

“stop, toru. stop.” she spoke in between gasps. she was dizzy from pleasure.

he finally sat up, in between her legs. the lower half of his face wet from her juices. he licked his lips before letting his tongue sweep around his mouth. he then wiped the lower half of his face with his hand, gathering her remaining wetness with it before licking it off his palm.

He didn’t break eye contact with her once. She shivered.

He grabbed the hem of his shirt, easily tossing it off before spreading her legs. She shivered once more, her legs looked so small compared to his large hands on her thighs. compared to his broad shoulders that he was lifting her legs on top of.

His hair was a mess from her fingers and that look in his eyes was anything but innocent. it was depraved.

“You still think i wanna cheat on you?” he asked, his voice cold.

She flinched when she felt his cock head touch her pussy lips.

“C-condom, toru,” she rasped out, her voice barely audible, “Condom.”

He hissed, as if annoyed that she remembered. or maybe at the fact that she was sane enough to.

He reached towards the nightstand, hastily grabbing a condom and tearing it open. He didn’t waste any time putting it on before spreading her legs once again.

He placed his cock atop her navel, looking in satisfaction as the tip of his cock went an inch past her belly button. He felt her shiver sensitively.

He glanced down at her flushed face, her trembling lips and that look in her eyes. that fear mixed with want. He knew she wanted it, no matter how much she denied it. She had to have. That face is begging for it.

He could feel her juices on his balls when he rested his cock on top of her like this. He couldn’t wait to see his cockhead bulge inside her tummy either.

He grabbed her throat, before slamming his cock into her in one brutal thrust. The weak sound that left her made his cock throb with the need to cum. Her eyes rolled into her head and he was grinning like a lunatic before losing all focus when her pussy squeezed the life out of him.

He glanced down at the little bulge in her tummy. groaning as he felt her delicious tiny walls restricting his cockhead. her walls curling around him as if it could suppress him from moving.

He touched the bulge at her tummy, he groaned as he felt his cock twitch. She suddenly grabbed his hand, “Toru, please—please-don’t be rough.”

He grabbed her wrist and pinned it to bed, fucking into her as mercilessly as he wanted. Fuck, her pussy felt so good. so hot. so fucking wet.

She screamed as he spoke into her cheek, “You wouldn’t even know if i fucked another girl would you? You don’t even have my location on, you never asked.”

“nghhh—ngh-ngh!! toru!”

His thrusts were hard, fast and deep.

“You don’t even check my phone as much as I check yours. You barely question me.”

His pace picked up. She screamed. She was going to break.

Her nails dug into his arm, “stop! stop! it hurts—you're gonna break me.”

He gritted his teeth, delivering another round of ruthless thrusts before finally slowing down. Her pulse fluttered rapidly in her throat. she could barely think.

“Maybe I should break you.” he whispered against her lips, he thrusted into her once. letting his cock hit her womb. She cried out.

“Maybe that’ll make you care about me.”

He ground the tip of his cock into her, making her wince.

Her neck arched in his hold, “toru…”

“ah,” his cock twitched as he stared down at her, “You sound so sweet.”

His hand tightened around her throat as he fucked another powerful thrust into her. She yelled, tears streaming down her cheeks. She could feel his cock throbbing inside her.

“Maybe I stayed out later on purpose..”

He pulled out slightly, “Maybe I showered so you could get the wrong idea..”

He pulled out a little more,  “Maybe I sprayed Shoko’s perfume to see if you even noticed.”

He slammed back into her, making her moan. She scratched at his arm while her other hand struggled against his grip on her wrist.

She shook her head back and forth as he began to deliver short fucks with most of his cock inside her. She felt his tip hit her deepest part inside, making her whimper and shake all over.

Her eyes fluttered opened, staring up at his focused expression, “Toru, please, please-“ her voice broke. she felt so full.

“Please what.” he snapped, his pace picking up, “You never get jealous, Ara, ever. Do you know how insane that makes me?”

His hips smacked into her with each thrust, “I get jealous when you talk to another man—when you stand near another man. Even when you look at another man—haah, I must be crazy.”

He was fucking into her ferociously now. Her body shaking from the pressure of his fucks, her body getting buried deeper and deeper into the bed.

She writhed under him, her free hand pulling at his hair, “Toru—please! slow-slow down—nghhhh!”

He let go of her throat to grab her tits. squeezing it hard in his one hand. letting his fingers sink into the entirety of her perky yet soft breast.

He nipped at her throat, “Maybe you know I won’t cheat cuz of how obsessed I am.”

He suddenly squeezed her tit hard making her wince and look down at him. His blue eyes were hazy with lust.

“But i can’t be the only one obsessed.”

She screamed as he fucked her-impossibly-harder. her insides sqlueching with her juices as her cunt tried to keep up with him but in the end she gave out. the last thing she felt was his warm cum spurt inside of her. loads and loads of it, as his cock twitched within her depths.

She sighed at the feeling of her hair being stroked before her eyes opened in a panic.

She was met with Satoru’s big ocean blue eyes staring back at her. He was lying right beside her, facing her while she lay chest-down on the bed.

“How do you feel?”

She moved to shift her legs but winced.

“Achey.”

He smiled slightly, repeating her words, “Achey?”

She nodded.

“You want water?”

She nodded.

He sat up easily, reaching over to grab the glass from the nightstand and offering it to her.

She tried to sit up, only to immediately crumple back at the action. Her face pinched up in pain.

His eyes widened before setting the glass down, “S’okay baby, I got you.”

He propped his pillow up on the headboard and slowly pulled her up against him so that they were half sitting, half lying down.

He then handed her the glass. He watched her attempt to hold it but her hands shook—shook so badly she could barely hold the glass.

He slipped the glass out of her fingers. She sighed weakly, leaning into his shoulder.

“I’m-i’m thirsty.” she whispered.

“I know kitten.” he replied gently before taking a rather large sip of water himself.

He then held her chin and brought her lips to him and let her drink. She drank from him. It was absurd but his hand on her chin made her less shaky. Their lips on each others made her more stable.

He gave her a peck when she finished.

“More?” he asked.

She nodded.

They did it once more, his mouth holding the water for her to drink. Maybe she was in too much of a daze from their sex to even question it but god, water never tasted better.

But it didn’t end there.

Once the water was gone from his mouth it should’ve ended there but he couldn’t seem to let go of her lips. and neither could she. his hand on her chin keeping her lips to his as his tongue sweeped her mouth. a low groan leaving him.

She broke the kiss, breathless. Her hand coming to rest on his chest as she pushed him away slightly.

“Toru.”

His arm slipped around her back, squeezing her hip as if to keep her close. He kissed her along her jaw.

“Just to keep the record straight, I didn’t stay out late on purpose.” he kissed her shoulder, “I did swim and shower and hug Shoko goodbye. I shoulda texted that I was gonna be out later but I didn't expect to, honest.”

She shifted beside him, silently letting him kiss her until he grabbed her chin and made her face him.

“Okay?” he asked.

“Yeah.” she sighed.

He scanned her before smiling faintly, “I love seeing you worry about me though.”

He reached over to squeeze one of her tits, making her shiver, “It makes me so hard.”

When she felt her nipple harden under his palm she glanced down at herself. Only to freeze when she saw she was naked under the sheets.

She looked over at him in a panic, “Why am I naked?”

He spoke from the crook of her neck, his hand still fondling her tit, “cuz we’re not done yet.”

He began to nip at her neck, she knew they’d be marks but that was the least of her worries. Her gaze dropped down to the tent in the blanket, right where his groin would be.

He suddenly pinched her nipple, making a low weak moan leave her lips.

Ara wandered into one of the living rooms. This one had the best lighting in her opinion, perfect for reading. just as she walked towards the couch she froze.

“Oh!” it was maid Marin, standing on the other side of the room with a vacuum beside her.

“I’m sorry to startle you, Miss.” Marin bowed her head slightly.

Ara waved her hand, “Oh no, you're good!”

“I’ll head on to another room-“

“No please, don’t worry about it.” Just as she turned around to bolt somewhere else, Marin quickly spoke.

“Please, miss, continue as you were. I just finished.”

Ara slowly turned around, belatedly noticing that the floor looked spotless. she’d thought marin was just about to get started.

“oh, um, thank you.”

Ara walked towards the couch, hesitantly getting comfortable on it before flipping through her book trying to find where she’d left off. She’d lost her bookmark for it.

Surprisingly a light laugh left marin, “You don’t have to try make my life easier you know, that’s my job.”

Ara immediately glanced up, confused.

Marin was looking at her rather fondly, “You leave your room the cleanest I’ve ever seen it. Do you put away his clothes as well?”

Ara blinked, belatedly realizing that… she did. but it wasn’t on purpose. It was because Gojo was an actual mess. He was terribly comfortable with tossing his clothes anywhere and misplacing random things after using it—which was the worst because she liked to keep things in a rather meticulous order at times. things had to be in a certain place.

Which was why his hastily tossed aside clothes in random corners of the room would not do. neither would his half-open drawers. or misplaced colognes or-god, i could really go on.

But she supposed the main reason for her minute attention to the room was because it felt ungrateful-it felt ungrateful to leave such a lavish space messy.

“Miss Natsuna?”

She snapped out of her thoughts, “Yes-um-please call me Ara.”

The maid shook her head gently, “That won’t do.”

Ara eyed her as unobtrusively as she could. This was nicest she’d ever seen Marin act with her. The older woman was usually reserved. She usually saw her in passing, as she did with the other maids or workers of the estate. But Marin was the one she interacted with the most and even that was seldom.

“I’d like you to know that I’m grateful. I’m grateful that you're here.”

Ara’s eyes widened.

“Sir gojo was barely home before you moved here but now he is here all the time. He seems so much brighter as well, more lively. He was always energetic since he was a boy but this is different. He’s so happy with you.”

She could tell the woman meant her words. Whether it be because of the care in her voice or the genuineness of her words-all she knew was that this maid really did care about Gojo.

“It’s all his Mother ever wanted for him, for him to be happy.”

Marin offered her a small smile-the first Ara had ever seen.

“I’m happy he met you.” she paused, “Please take good care of him.”

Ara stabbed her sausage with a fork.

“So… Gojo’s birthday is coming up.”

Ara’s eyes flickered upto Millie across from her. “Is it?”

“Yeah!” Millie responded indignantly, “You didn’t know?”

“Of course I know.” she responded, annoyance clear in her tone.

Idiot Haibara wouldn’t shut up about it. He was unnecessarily hype that it would be her first time attending Gojo’s bday bash. Apparently something ‘wild’ happens every year. When she asked him to give an example, she was told to ‘wait and see’ with the most goofiest smile on his face.

As if she couldn’t just ask Gojo herself.

Unfortunately she knew Haibara was right. In the previous years she remembered her fellow peers raving about his birthday parties in the following school days. Whether it be live singer or a yacht party, his bday party was the social event for these airheads.

She supposed she was one of the airheads now herself, since she was dating the biggest one.

“Well what are you gonna give him for his birthday?”

“That’s the thing, I don’t know. What do you get someone who has everything?” Ara took a frustrated bite out of her sausage.

Millie placed her chin on her hand, “Hmm that’s true.” she squinted as if mulling over a few things but then dismissing them, “Damn, he really does have everything.”

“Thanks for the help.” Ara responded sarcastically before taking another bite from her sausage.

Millie eyed the sausage jealously. She’d devoured hers in two seconds. She loved how the school chef made them—suddenly her eyes widened.

“Wait.”

“What?” Ara asked.

Millie smirked, her eyes glinting with excitement, “He technically doesn’t have everything..”

Ara stepped out of the car feeling like a doll. Even though it was Gojo’s big day he’d rented out an entire spa and massage sesh for her and Millie cuz he could tell she was getting anxious.

Maybe because everyone was hyping Gojo’s birthday party up or maybe because it was the fact so many people were going to be there, her introvert self couldn't take it.

but after everything. hair. nails. makeup. outfit. all put together—& maybe some hits from Millie’s j. She felt more calm-ish.

It was saturday, the night of Gojo’s party even though his actual birthday was tomorrow. It was taking place at the estate. He’d considered throwing it at one of his family’s beach houses but Shoko declined the idea due to the fact that Geto apparently did that last year so they had to keep it different.

Apparently Gojo didn’t host events often at the estate-mainly for security/privacy reasons. His uncle also hated it but-according to him-his Uncle's opinion didn’t really matter.

The last time he’d thrown a birthday bash here was freshman year so he counted it as a full circle moment since they were seniors now. so they had to go all out.

Ijichi closed the car door behind her and handed her her mini bag. “Mis-“ he quickly shook his head, “Ara.”

She raised a brow, “Yes?”

“Y-you look beautiful.”

She smiled shyly, “Thank you, Ijichi.”

Suddenly Millie tapped her shoulder, “C’mon c’mon lets go.”

Music could already be heard from the estate even though it was rather early. She supposed it was never too early to start. The sun was bound to set soon.

Ara glanced back at Millie, who was smiling wide as she took in the view of the estate. The place that had homed Ara for the past few months.

“The fact that you live here… insane.”

Ara shook her head, “I’m nervous.”

Millie rubbed her back, “Don’t worry. don’t worry. No one’s here yet. We have time to chill. besides you know how to party so don’t be a party pooper now.” she teased.

Ara rolled her eyes, “Thanks.”

His friends were in the living room—chilling and smoking. It seemed everyone had gotten the memo to dress nice aka hot.

Shoko passed her cigarette to Toji the second she saw Ara. She ran upto her.

“Hey hey!”

Ara hugged her back.

“When did you get here?” Millie asked.

“Oh, we got here like twenty minutes ago. Where were you guys?”

“Still getting ready.” Ara answered.

“Well, it was worth it because ya’ll look-“ she bit her lower lip, making the dumbest face she’d ever seen.

Millie laughed while Ara shook her head, “Please stop.”

Shoko grinned, “Did you guys have anything to drink yet?”

Millie snapped her fingers, “Nope. Imma need that.”

Shoko gestured towards the table in the center of the living room, “Knock yourself out.”

Millie zipped straight where she pointed. Shoko then turned to her, “What about you?”

Ara was silent for a moment, examining the room. Toji sat on the couch, his feet crossed over another and propped on the coffee table before him. Haibara was on his right, blabbing about something passionately that Toji clearly could give two shits about.

Then there was Nanami sitting on the sofa across from them. He’d gotten a hair cut and-if Ara’s vision wasn’t impaired-he seemed to have filled out a bit. It suited him.

 “Where’s Gojo?”

“Oh him and Geto are upstairs, doing god knows what.” Shoko shook her head.

“Do you know how many people are coming?” she asked.

Shoko blinked, “Um.. no. Let’s just say this entire place is gonna be packed though.” she examined Ara with a raised brow, “What’s with you?”

“Nothing nothing. I’m just.. nervous.”

“What?! Why?”

Ara ran a hand though her perfectly done mermaid waves, “I don’t know.” she sighed.

“There’s got to be something.”

Ara straightened her posture, “I don’t know why.. I just feel this pressure in my-“ she gestured towards her stomach, “I can’t explain it.”

“Your anxious?”

“Yeah.” she sighed.

“You know, I think I know a cure.”

“Let me guess, a drink?”

“Damn,” Shoko grinned, “I'm predictable as hell aren’t I.”

Ara chuckled.

“Okay but listen, this drink is actually called ‘the cure’ and I invented it. All the girls love it, it’s fruity and yummy and it’ll prolly calm your nerves. Let me make it for you.”

“Don’t make it too strong please.”

“Of course, I got you.”

“Uno!” Ara spoke a millisecond earlier than Toji.

His sexy green eyes narrowed but she didn’t miss the subtle curl of humor on his lips, “Ah-fuck you.”

He drew four cards from the pile.

She felt a slight nudge to her left and glanced down to see Nanami outstretching his fist towards her in silent commemoration. She smiled, fist bumping him back.

Nanami had already won the round so now her and Toji were fighting for 2nd place.

“Alright, your turn.” Toji grumbled.

She glanced down at the yellow card with the number 9 at the top of the pile. She bit her cheek to hide her smile before kissing her card and setting it down atop the pile.

A green nine was her last card.

Toji sucked his teeth before tossing his pile of cards on the table.

“This a damn scam.”

“You owe her 10k.” Nanami added monotonously.

He leaned forward in his seat adamantly, “The hell’s she gonna do with 10k? Gojo literally gets her Birkins every other week.”

“Are you jealous of her gifts?” Nanami retorted, “Should she ask Gojo to get you one next?”

“eh?” Toji’s ears turned red, “Hell no.”

Ara held back her laugh while arranging the cards on the table in a neat pile, “A deals a deal-“

Suddenly a hand clasped her shoulder and she looked up to see Millie with a bright smile on her face. She handed her a glass.

Ara hesitantly took it, looking at the pinky orange liquid within it, “What’s this?”

Millie patted her shoulder, “A gift from Dr. Shoko aka the cure.”

oh right. She’d forgotten about that.

Millie glanced over at Nanami, “By the way, she’s looking for you.”

“Where is she?” he asked.

“In the kitchen.”

“Which one?”

Millie’s eyes nearly popped out of her body, “There’s multiple?”

“Yes.” Ara, Nanami and Toji all replied at the same time.

Millie sucked her teeth, “Jesus. Well, it’s the one with the blue marble countertops.”

“East wing.” Nanami muttered under his breath before getting up and leaving.

Millie quickly took his seat and held out her glass of the same drink.

“Cheers?” she asked Ara.

Ara could already tell by the glassy look in Millie’s eyes that the girl had clearly got a head start with the drinks.

Ara sucked in deep breath, “We don’t need a chaser?”

Toji snorted, “For Shoko’s cure? Hell no. Shits sweet as hell.”

Millie rolled her eyes, “We get it, tough guy.”

He grinned at her.

Millie ignored him, facing Ara, “Nope you barely taste the alc in this, for real.” she held her glass up, “C’mon, c’mon.”

Ara held out her glass, a satisfying ‘clink!’ resounding from their glasses once they touched. They then linked arms and tilted their heads back, downing the drink in one go.

They set the glasses down in a fit of giggles.

Ara lightly dabbed at the corner of her lip with her fingertips, making sure none of it spilled or messed up her lipstick.

“That just tastes like juice.” Ara noted.

“Told ya.” Toji replied.

If Ara had been nervous before, she barely remembered what that felt like now. What had she even been worried about? people? ha. She barely noticed when the house began to gradually fill up.

The music was all she could focus on. It felt like it was connected to her veins. pumping through her body with each soundwave that blasted from the speakers.

She was dancing, moving her hips in ways she didn’t even know was possible. Millie wouldn’t stop laughing and it seems her laugh was too contagious cuz Ara couldn’t stop laughing either.

But suddenly, the song changed and she saw Millie’s face turn serious. She grabbed Ara’s hand, leading her somewhere.

Millie climbed atop the pool table and pulled her up. She started yelling the lyrics, Ara handed her a pool stick as if it was a mic.

The surrounding people turned around, staring up at them and the next thing she knew people started to sing along, some people even started jumping. A few girls climbed on top of the pool table to join them as well.

Millie tossed the pool stick somewhere and started to dance with her. Ara only knew the chorus of the song so the second it started to play they both started pointing at each other and singing. (a/n: song is okay - by JT)

“I’m pretty than a motherfucker, hoes be lookin’ okay.”

“She think that she fuckin’ with me, is this bitch okay?”

“He said he ain’t fuckin’ round, i look at him like, okay?”

“I used to be down bad but now a bitch okay.”

Millie nearly tripped and Ara grabbed her shoulders, catching her just in time. They both gasped, staring at each other with wide eyes.

They both burst out laughing. In the midst of their laughter, they didn’t notice people cheering and making way for a certain individual.

No one other than the birthday boy himself, Gojo.

He stood a little distance away from the pool table, dapping a few people up as he passed before crossing his arms when he spotted her. A wide grin on his lips.

His vibrant eyes looked her up and down, before chewing at his lower lip and sighing.

She was wearing his favorite color on her. red—blood red. It looked so fucking good. Her dress hugged her waist so tight, those thin straps were barely holding in her yummy tits. He swore her skin glittered under the lights-and her hair, it looked so silky and wavy, swaying with each roll of her hips. She had to be a siren.

The thought of running his hands through those locks and wrapping it around his fist before spreading her glowy little legs. He wondered if her back was just as sparkly—haah. I need to calm down.

To say he was pent up wouldn’t cover it. He’d felt so utterly betrayed when she suggested that they hold off on sex before his birthday, just so he could cherish it more.

She’d suggested that he hold off for a week. Impossible. They broke that a day in. She should know he always cherished whenever they fucked. He never ran out of stamina with her and she knew it. He felt like this break was more for her than anything.

In the end he ended up only managing to hold out for two days, today being day two. He didn’t like it—not having her. Discipline wasn’t in his nature when it came to her. but-god-with the way she looked right now… mmm she better not expect to sleep tonight.

He felt an elbow jab his ribs and remembered himself. He glanced over at Geto.

“Get your shit together.”

Gojo grinned, uncrossing his arms to run a hand over his mouth, “I’m trying.”

Geto tilted his head, “Are you?”

“Gimme a sec.”

He deftly made his way towards her, standing in front of the pool table, right where she was. How distracted are you kitten? She barely looked away from Millie as they danced, enjoying the song to its fullest.

She looked so good, singing the words-word for word-fuck he was too impatient to wait. He wanted her eyes on him. She hadn’t even greeted him when she came back to the estate after getting dolled up all day.

His hand slid up her calf, immediately drawing her attention. She glanced down, her eyes instantly brightening.

The spark that ran up his spine was incomparable.

He stared up at her with a boyish grin, his hand sliding up along the back of her thigh and she leaned into him, placing her hand on his shoulder. He easily held her waist and placed her down in front of him.

He hummed, pressing her body to his by sliding his hands down her waist to her ass, squeezing her cheeks hard.

A small, sexy little yelp left her lips and he exhaled silently. She stared up at him, her hands on his chest, “Toru..” he heard the reproach in her tone until her gaze dropped to his lips.

She shook her head but he quickly cupped one side of her face. “Your lipstick..”

She smiled softly. Right. She’d gotten mad at him about that before. She tilted her head up, fully pressing her chest against his, “It’s waterproof.”

His lips crashed to hers, nearly swallowing her lips whole. The music silencing their sloppy, desperate sounds. Her hands grasped at his forearms and his hands squeezed her pretty waist. He could taste the alc on her tongue, it tasted fruity, sweet—

Her nails dug into his skin, pushing herself back.

“Toru..” she whined, resting her head on his chest.

He ran a hand down her hair before pressing his lips to the crown of her head. God, she’s so damn cute.

“Everytime I look at you I feel so lucky.” he muttered into her hair.

His hands found her hips, squeezing lightly as he looked down at her, “Do you know how good you look right now?”

She looked up at him, “I do.” she pressed her stomach to his groin to prove her point. His eyes widened. The action made his cock throb—painfully so. He’d been hard as a rock the second his eyes landed on her.

He grinned, “You wanna do something about it?”

She tilted her head, giving him a look.

“Fine, fine~” he pressed his forehead to hers, running a hand down her hair only to grasp her nape to drag her close. His lips at her ear, “You can’t drink too much.”

He felt her hands on his chest waver, “I won’t.”

“You promise?”

She slipped her hands around his neck, pulling back to nudge her nose against his, “I promise.”

He introduced her to a ton of people. She couldn’t possibly remember them all-but to her shock, Gojo was friends with so many nepobabies, celebrities and LA influencers, it was incredulous. She couldn’t believe they’ve never talked about it before.

She never thought in her life she would ever meet these people. and the fact that some of their classmates were talking to these celebrities as if they were friends… as if they’ve met them before. She couldn’t believe it.

Like genuinely in what world did Gojo know David Beckham’s son, Romeo? or Monica Bellucci’s daughter?

She’d done her best to remain as calm as possible whenever Gojo introduced her to these people. He loved saying it—“this my girlfriend, Ara.”

She was almost sick of hearing it so many times but she knew he ate it up. The little smile he gave her whenever he said it, he loved claiming her like this.

His arm was on her back, his hand resting low on her hip as he spoke to an actual prince-Prince Nikolai of Denmark to be exact. Then randomly, Vinnie Hacker joined their conversation. She felt like she was watching the mogging olympics. She couldn’t even focus on the conversation, merely laying her head on Gojo as she stared up at them talking.

Suddenly she felt a hand on her arm, prying her away from Gojo. She glanced over to see Shoko, “Come here.”

Gojo’s hand loosened on her hip, letting Shoko take her as he continued to converse. Ara slipped away, letting Shoko lead her to the corner of the room.

“How are you feeling?”

Ara slow blinked, “Um… I feel good.” The realization made a small smile spread across her lips.

“Really?” Shoko inquired, before running a hand through her hair, “Thank god.”

She tilted her head, “Why?”

“Because Millie came up to me and I don’t know if she was joking or not but she said she put ecstasy in your drink.”

Ara froze.

Shoko went on, “She said she only put a little-to ease your nerves or something but, still. I was hoping you knew… did she tell you?”

Ara answered with a simple, “Nope.”

“Oh god. Are you sure you're okay?”

She gave her a thumbs up.

Shoko raked a hand through her short hair again, “Are you sure?”

She grabbed Shoko’s arms, “I promise i’m okay, stop worryingg.”

Shoko stared at her smile for a second before nodding, “Alright, alright.”

Shoko reached out to fix one of Ara’s necklaces, “Isn’t your friend.. a little sus? Why would she not tell you that.”

Ara shrugged, high out of her mind, “Dunno, maybe she told me and I forgot.”

That was a lie. Ara would remember something like that.

Shoko shook her head, smiling slightly, “You’re a mess.”

Suddenly Mina showed up in all her blonde haired glory. Ara swore those big loose waves belonged in a Victoria Secret show. Mina grabbed ahold of both of their wrists.

She wriggled her brows, “Lets dance.”

Ara was on the rooftop, dancing with girls she didn’t even know. Shoko knew them though.

It threw her off when some of the girls recognized her as Gojo’s girlfriend. She wondered if it had to do with Gojo’s socials. She didn’t really use social media much herself but she’d advised him against posting her too much. She wondered if he’d listened.

The breeze on the rooftop was perfect along with the sunset. The multicolored sky looked like something straight out of a landscape painting.

She walked away from the dancing girls, telling them she was going to get a drink but in reality she needed a break. She wandered to the farthest lounging chair and laid down.

She lay on her side, one leg over the other as she stared at the sky, letting the music and breeze waft over her.

She felt surreal. She didn’t want to ever stop feeling like this.

Suddenly she heard a familiar voice nearby, “Ara?”

She glanced over to see Geto hovering nearby. He bent down slightly, “Are you okay?”

She smiled a bit, “I’m great.”

“Yeah?” he sat on the seat beside her, sighing.

“Mhm, what about you?”

He scratched his brow with his thumb, “Fine, a bit… tired. Maybe I’m not drunk enough.”

She laughed lightly, “Maybe.”

“You drink enough?”

She nodded.

He set his drink down to light a cigarette. He offered her one but she shook her head. She watched him take a puff. The smokey air billowing upwards was the most interesting thing to watch.

She laid down more comfortably, adjusting her arm underneath her head. She stared at him. His black hair looked nice down. It ended a little past his shoulders. She was so used to seeing it up in a man bun that she didn’t realize how long his hair actually was.

She followed his gaze. He was looking at a girl, near their age. She swore she might’ve seen that girl on pinterest or something. Regardless, the girl was gorgeous.

“You should talk to her.” Ara suggested lightly.

His eyebrows raised slightly, “Oh no-no, she’s my friend. I’ve known her since i was little.”

She watched him lean back in his seat, raising his glass to his lips to take a sip. He gazed over the crowd uninterestedly.

“Why don’t you talk to any girls?”

He nearly spit his drink, “What?”

“I just..” her brows furrowed slightly, “I just realized I’ve never seen you talk to a girl at a party. like talk talk.”

He held her gaze for a moment, expression shocked before he hunched over in his seat, looking away.

“I’m not really good at talking to girls.”

She could see the tips of his ears reddening as he admitted this.

“No way.” she gasped out.

His eyes immediately flickered to her, “What?”

“So Gojo wasn’t lying? You’re a virgin?”

She watched color swiftly bloom along his cheeks, “He told you that?”

"I honestly don’t think that’s bad. I don’t see the big deal about losing your v card by a certain age or whatever. It’s just unnecessary pressure. I was a virgin-“ she cut herself off, suddenly thinking over her words.

“Um-“ she felt her face go warm, “-until-uh-“

He couldn’t seem to make eye contact, “Oh.”

“Yeah.”

She sat up, crossing one leg over the other. She adjusted the end of her mini dress.

“Anyway,” she muttered, “I don’t see the big deal. I just hope you lose it with someone you love.”

Her eyes widened as she processed her words. She felt Geto’s eyes boring into her.

“So you love him?”

She glanced over at him, unable to read his blank expression.

He offered her a small smile, “He’s been waiting to hear you say it, y’know.”

“He hasn’t said it.”

"He said he did.”

She blinked, belatedly remembering that he has. In fact, he’s said it multiple times-but he never pressured her to say it back.

Faint confusion etched her features, “He wants to hear me say it?”

“Who wouldn’t.”

Fireworks sparked across the sky. the air was foggy with smoke. the scent of alcohol, sweat and expensive colognes and perfumes everywhere.

“HAPPY BIRTHDAY GOJO SATORU!!!!” Haibara yelled atop his lungs into the mic after his spiel-that she could barely concentrate on-and countdown.

Gojo was laughing beside her, she playfully shoved him away. He shot her the handsomest smile as he stumbled backwards. He then faced the balcony, sharing his smile to the people below.

He easily climbed atop the balcony railing, standing on the ledge with just his two feet.

She felt like she was watching him in slow motion when he slipped off his shirt. His built upper body visible to everyone. His protruding biceps, compact abs. The pool water somehow reflecting across his body, creating lines of light blue waves along his skin.

He shook his head, moving his floppy white hair out of his eyes before he blew a kiss to his fans by the pool below. He tugged at the belt of his jeans, grinning down as the party goers hooted and hollered. chanting his name.

She stared at him, looking at the shit eating grin on his face. She hated how attractive the expression was.

He tossed his Jean Paul Gaultier sunglasses off before jumping off the railing.

She watched in astonishment as he managed to curl into a ball and roll in the air a couple times before landing smack center in the pool. She swore she felt water droplets from where she stood on the rooftop.

She was gaping until his head emerged from the pool. He shook his hair out like a dog, laughing in his boisterous airy way. Several people jumped into the pool, his friends swarmed him.

She shook her head, glancing away when she felt something poke her arm. it was Arden, one of Shoko’s friends. When Ara glanced down she realized what had been poking her was the straw of a multi-colored fruity looking drink.

“It’s yours.” Arden offered.

“I think I’m good—“

“Drink.”

Ara snatched it out of her hand and chugged it down.

She laughed, shoving Millie back, “What the hell is with you?!”

Millie countered, “You feel better though, don’t you? don’t you?”

She paused before answering, “.. I do.”

They both made eye contact before breaking down in a fit of giggles.

She burst into one of the guest rooms to find a group of boys and girls hovered over in a loose circle. Her gaze then dropped to the tray between them and the lines of white powder on it.

“Ooops, my bad.”

She quickly slammed the door shut. Her hand still on the handle as she kept her back to the door, standing in complete shock.

“What is it?”

Toji stood in front of her.

He gestured with a tilt of his chin towards the door behind her, “What’s in there?”

“You like coke?”

“Maybe.”

She let go of the door handle, “It’s all yours.”

Just as she walked around him, he grasped her wrist.

She raised a brow as she looked up at him.

“You took a line?” an undercurrent of shock and curiosity in his voice.

“Pft no.”

His eyes narrowed, a subtle grin on his lips, “Liar.”

She tried to tug her wrist away, “I didn’t.”

He let her wrist go, “You definitely took somethin’ ” he leaned in, “Your pupils are big.”

She touched her cheek, “They are?” she tried to recall reading about physical symptoms for MDMA use but couldn’t remember anything.

“Mhm.” he leaned back, “What’d you take?”

“Ecstasy… Millie said she crushed up a bit and put it in my drink. She said it would help me relax and it did.. but..”

“But?”

She met his gaze, “She told me she only put a little.”

The corner of his lip curled ever so slightly, “I hope she did, for your sake.”

“Am I going to black out?”

He looked her up and down, “You don’t look like it. How do you feel?”

“I feel fine.. I feel like everything feels better.”

He smirked, “I bet.”

“Do you think i’m gonna be able to stay up all night?”

Confusion flickered across his features, “Why…” a millisecond later realization made his thin brows instantly shoot up, a sly grin on his lips.

“Never mind.” she quickly spat out.

“You’re a good girlfriend.”

“Shut up.”

Ara stood in the kitchen, scarfing down a slice of cake. It was delicious. The frosting was the best texture on the entire planet. holy grail.

The cake was a cute faded pastel blue color, the inside was made of three layers-moist chocolate cake, fluffy chocolate mousse and chocolate ganache. She wasn’t even that much of chocolate person but this tasted heavenly.

“dish is amazhing.” Some girl beside her spoke through her chewing. Ara had never met this girl before.

“It- yes.” she agreed.

The floor pulsed with the bass of each word, each beat drop. Her heart pulsed along with it.

She was jumping so much her legs were sore. She danced with her hands on Millie’s shoulders. Millie? yes, Millie.

Millie was dancing too. Her curls had loosened and appeared more mermaid-like than tightly curled. She looked like a doll.

Millie grabbed her hands and spun around with her. There were so many cheers, so many voices. Everyone was so loud.

People danced in front of them, behind them. They somehow got tugged into a circle, hooting and hollering as girls and boys alike took the center space to dance. Some people were recording. Ara swore she’d seen some of the faces around her on tik tok or youtube.

Ara’s mouth dropped open when she watched a few girls slide into the center of the circle, showing off their moves in their skimpy outfits. Goddamn, they know how to dance.

She’d never seen so many people having so much fun at once. It almost felt like one of those antidepressant ads in real life–except it was real life.

Millie touched her cheek, “dance! dance! dance!” her voice echoed in her ears.

Was music always this beautiful?

She felt hands on her waist and opened her eyes. It was dark, the sporadic neon flashes the only source of light but she could recognize the man in front of her anywhere.

His skin was poreless, smooth. Her hands touched his familiar abs.

His hand was in her hair, his other hand on her ass—keeping her groin against his. He was hard.

The neon lights flashed over his eyes and she swore they glittered—brighter than uncut diamonds.

His lips were on her neck, his lips were on her lips. his hand tugged her nape closer. His cock throbbed through his jeans, against the thin material of her dress.

She couldn’t stop his lips from moving over her own. She felt like she was gonna disappear in him and-oh she wanted to. yes she wanted to.

Her body needed something and he knew exactly what. She felt it in his hold, in the pressure of his lips against hers. She couldn’t think.

He pulled her legs up around his waist and she knew the party was behind them.

a/n: fic continued in chapter 5 [ part 4 ] !!!!!