#before my face. DIRECTED at my conversation

[nochepsicodelica]

You and Toji are sitting at a table at a bar, talking about different things that went on throughout your days over some drinks. Toji tells you about how Shiu's been a real asshole lately, because his marriage is hanging on by a thread and he hasn't gotten laid in almost a month. He gives you a look that you interpret as him saying 'thank fuck that's not us' to which you respond with a little smirk.

When it's your turn, you tell him about how the new hire broke the copy machine, knocked over and broke the water gallon for the water dispenser, and crashed into someone, spilling hot coffee all over their shirt, all in the course of one day.

"That poor fucker's cursed," Toji says, amusement riddling his expression as he brings his glass of whiskey to his lips.

"He looked like he really needed a hug by the end of the day," you add, biting back a smile, before you take a sip of your own drink.

"Tell me you didn't," Toji says, taking in the seemingly telling look on your face. "Ma."

"I'm kidding. It's jokes, baby. I have no interest in hugging someone I haven't spoken a single word to."

Toji flicks your forehead, watching with a grin as you bring a hand up to rub the sting away. "Gotta piss, be right back, doll. Want another drink before I come back?"

"I'll wait for you to finish yours," you say, to which he nods before standing up from his seat.

"Be right back," Toji repeats, affectionately setting a heavy hand on your head, before he heads off in the direction of the restrooms.

You pull your phone out of your pocket and scroll through your socials while you wait. Altogether, Toji was gone for no longer than four minutes, and yet somehow, that was enough time for a rando to pull a chair up to your little table and start a conversation with you.

"Hey," he starts. "Why are you sitting here looking all lonely?"

You turn your head to face the person with the unfamiliar voice, slightly widening your eyes as if to question if he's talking to you. He looks at you with raised eyebrows, awaiting your response. "Oh, i'm not here alone. My boyfriend is in the bathroom," you respond, with a polite smile, before returning your attention to your phone.

"Ah. What kind of man leaves a pretty thing like you by herself in a place like this?" The stranger says, in a tone that almost seems pitiful towards you.

You look at him again and attempt to keep your expression neutral. "He'll be back any second now. He's just taking a piss, i'll be fine. Unless you're here to make things troubling for me."

The man chuckles, entertained by your quick shift in tone. "With a feisty attitude like that and a pretty mouth to keep up, it seems like you want me to get you in trouble."

You furrow your eyebrows, blatantly offended by his inappropriate insinuation. It's disturbing to see how he turned your warning into something sexual.

"I already told you, I have a boyfriend. Try someone else," you respond, no longer hiding your irritation.

Toji scans the room for the table you're sitting at, locating you and who-the-fuck in three seconds. This man looks awfully cozy with you, leaning in close every time he speaks to you, so he doesn't stand around any longer and quickly makes his way back to you and this new "friend".

"You sure you don't want another drink, doll?" Toji asks, sitting down in front of you, again, his gaze darting between you and this pocket square looking man. There's a difference between your demeanor from before he left and now. You clearly aren't comfortable, anymore.

"That's it? That is your supposed boyfriend?" The man asks, attempting to minimize Toji by referring to him as if he's nothing in comparison to himself. "Oh, princess. You see this watch?" He asks, raising the cuff of his sleeve to fully reveal his golden watch. "Four thousand dollars, and that's chump change."

You look at Toji and pull his hand into your shaky one, giving him a forced smile. Toji keeps his eyes on yours as the stranger continues spewing arrogant sludge about how much money he makes a year and how even the luxury car he has parked outside didn't put the smallest dent in his wallet.

"You would have it so good with me, baby," he continues blabbering. His hand goes to your wrist, a gesture that Toji quickly puts an end to by aggressively shoving the man's hand away, your empty glass clattering on the table from the force. Toji would have snapped the man's wrist and twisted his hand off, but he didn't want to scare you with the bloodshed. He feels like he's buzzing from the anger bubbling inside, and surely it won't be long before he acts out.

"Don't fucking touch her," Toji spits, glaring at the man with an expression that would have put him six feet under, if looks could kill.

Your heartbeat is in your ears and your blood is boiling. This man is disgusting for being persistent towards someone who doesn't want him. It's masochism, at this point, with the amount of times that you've made it clear that you're not interested.

The man snorts, snobbishly. "He brought you here, of all places. Even just glancing at him, you can tell this cheap ass place is all he can afford. He'll never be able to give you everything you want, so just come with me, doll face."

You rip your hand out of Toji's grasp and stand from your chair, delivering a resounding blow to the man's already hideous face. Tables and chairs wobble as he tries to keep his balance, but when you quickly strike him again, hard enough to increase the pain you felt in your knuckles with that first hit, you manage to knock him onto the ground.

"Fuck you, you fucking asshole. You don't know shit!" You grit out, dropping down to try and land another hit to the man's bleeding face. By now, Toji is behind you, restraining your arms and pulling you back as a small crowd begins to form to observe the commotion.

"Ma, come on. Let's just go."

"Let me dent his fucking face in, Toji," you mutter, writhing in his grip.

The vile man manages to sit up, dabbing his fingertips against his busted lip. Though there is red blossoming on his face, his lips still form an amused, twisted smile. He laughs as he watches you get reeled back by Toji, seething as you are dragged away like a child having a meltdown in the middle of a store.

"Hey-- Hey, I said let's go," Toji says, his tone sharper when you continue to try to break out of his hold to fight the idiotic sociopath.

You take a deep breath and stop, willingly letting Toji take you away from this chaos you created in his defense. His hand rests on the nape of your neck, as he guides you through the stuffy bar and leads you outside to the car.

"Stop pacing," Toji says, watching as you threaten to make the asphalt beneath your feet waste away with every step you take in your heated state.

"Fucking asshole, dickhead, motherfucker." You groan, loudly, furiously, before covering your face with your hands. "It's fine, it's fine," you mumble to yourself.

"Then, stop pacing," he repeats, watching on as you walk the same steps, over and over, as if you're on autopilot. "Ma, eyes. Eyes." His hands go to your shoulders, manually forcing you to halt your movement. "Listen to me. I said eyes."

"I'm so... I can't stand still," you say, weakly.

"Stop looking around. Right here," Toji instructs, lifting one hand from your shoulder and pointing two fingers at his eyes. You release a shaky puff of air and hold his gaze as best as you can.

"Talk when you're ready," he says, following your eyes whenever they derail from his.

You aren't ready soon enough. You feel like your heart is trying to burst out of your chest and the adrenaline coursing through you isn't helping at all. Your hand hurts. Your knuckles feel bruised and they're bloody. The night might be ruined, but you felt your reaction was the only way to release the pain you felt when that nothing started talking the way he did about Toji. All you can think to do is hug Toji to prevent yourself from crying about your cause for attacking the gross man. It's all so much. You've never felt so strongly for someone, to the point where you hit a stranger for insulting them. It's scary how Toji brings that defensive, yet, offensive side out of you.

Strong, heavy arms reciprocate your embrace, keeping your tense body close. You feel warm and safe, his scent and the pressure of his hold managing to slowly calm your unsteady heartbeat. After a few seconds of quietness, you turn your head and rest the side of your face on him, finally prepared to speak.

"I didn't like how he was talking about you, Toji. He was talking shit even before you came back, and I hated it. I hated it so much, that I felt nauseous and if I hadn't done something, I would have been sick."

Toji sighs, not out of disappointment or feelings of that sort, but because you seeking out danger for his sake, was not something he ever wanted to see.

"Doll, you know how much I love you."

This sounds like a layer of sugar preceding a talking to. You're trying not to be nervous before the scolding even begins, but you feel the need to brace yourself, as well.

"I love you, too," you mumble.

Toji knows it. He's known it all along, and the events that transpired tonight were just another way of you proving your love and showing how much he matters to you.

"Want you to look at me," he says, lowering his arms on your back, allowing you to make the space necessary to give him your attention. He offers you a soft smile. "Don't get all fidgety on me after you just ripped a stranger's face open."

"I feel like you're about to yell at me," you say, lowly.

That makes him want to laugh, but he keeps his amusement to a minimum, since you're clearly anticipating something terrible.

"Nah. When have I ever raised my voice at you?"

"Never."

"Exactly. Never, and I won't start now, but I want you to get this through your pretty head... It's not your job to beat people up for me."

"I know, but-"

Toji shakes his head. "Hold on, mama. Let me finish talking, then it'll be your turn."

Your heart feels like it's in the depths of your stomach, but you nod, and allow him to continue talking.

"I'm not mad at you, i'm not gonna yell at you. Just wanna keep you safe, is all. That guy was already a fuckin' weirdo, harassing you like that and trying to get you to go with him while I was right there. I wouldn't be surprised if he was into hitting women, too, if he's so comfortable with making them uncomfortable."

It's quiet while you think of what to say. You don't want this to escalate into something that turns you against each other, when it started out as an act of love. You could argue about how you did this to defend him, but in the end, you know his own need to protect you, will stomp all over your arguments.

"I'm sorry we had to leave, but i'm not sorry for the reason behind it. I don't regret what I did."

"Ma..."

"No, Toji. He didn't even know you and yet he still said things that aren't fair." Your voice quiets down, the beginnings of stronger emotions threatening to outwardly reveal themselves. "He insulted you. He questioned your abilities as my boyfriend when he saw me alone— even after I told him you just went to the bathroom. He judged you superficially, he said you can't give me everything I want and--" you pause, interrupted by a shaky inhale and the painful lump in your throat. "Sorry," you mumble, when the first set of tears roll down your cheeks.

"No, you're alright," Toji says, in response, his warm hands coming up to cup your cheeks, thumbs wiping away your fleeing tears. There's a small pinch in his brows. Why are you crying? It's something he can't ask you, because he knows that if he makes a big spectacle out of it, you'll end up drowning in your tears and shutting down everything you have to say. He resorts to keeping your cheeks dry and encouraging you to keep talking.

"Go on, mama."

You sniff, before picking up where you left off. "I don't care about all that, Toji. I don't care where we go to spend time together, because we're together. I need you, not for you to buy me things or take me to fancy places. That's not what I'm with you for."

Your heart is beating fast, again, its rhythm no longer controlled by fear or nerves, but instead the focus that Toji has on you. He's good at holding eye contact with you, something that occasionally gets distracting if you become too aware of it. You notice that his expression is softer. Maybe it's your brief flash of tears or the way you are always subconsciously finding a way to indirectly recite some of the reasons for why you love him.

"I love you, Toji. That means I won't just sit around and let someone talk about you like you're worthless. And I know, I know you can handle things like this on your own and you don't need me, but it was hard to listen to that."

You pause, as if to give him a break from your bulldozing heart. Silence takes over the moment, both of you just looking at each other. Toji's speechlessness has you wondering if you spilled too much of your heart out to him. You know some things are better left to be figured out, such as the range of a person's love, and yet you just poured without measure. "You can call me crazy if you want to."

Toji's shit-eating grin is unexpected, but it's definitely a sight that lifts some of the heaviness you feel in your chest.

"You love me," Toji says, still smiling like a doofus. He knows your serious facade will crack if he looks at you like this for long enough. He can already see a shift in the expression of your eyes and the way your lips are pressing together just a little more. He tilts his head slightly, a gesture that pushes you even further towards that pretty smile he wants to see. When you finally crack and give into his charm, you do so with a mutter of 'you're so dumb.'

"I'm glad that's what you got out of my rambling," you say, wholeheartedly and in better spirits. Toji pulls you in, this time, his soothing warmth and familiar scent tangling around you, again. His chin rests on top of your head and his arms secure themselves around you, tightly.

"I'm not gonna call you crazy, ma. It's not what I think. Also, don't go saying things that aren't true. I do need you," Toji says, his voice level kept at an intimate volume, as if there are other people there in the parking lot with you. His words are solely meant for you to hear anyway and getting them to you in this manner ensures that you won't go home with your heart feeling heavy, after a talk that was meant to comfort you.

"You know, I don't care what other people think— and that's not to say I don't appreciate you throwing a few punches for my sake. You're a sweetheart and you care so much, but if it's a stranger saying some unimportant, dumb shit, it takes a lot for it to actually get to me. If it really bothered me, they'd be gone."

"Yeah... I know," you mumble, into his shirt, knowing you would do it again and again— countless times. You loosen your arms around Toji and he does the same, his hands dragging towards your waist after you separate.

"How's that hand?" Toji asks, picking your wrist up before you can even respond. He whistles at the sight of the slight swelling and the dry specks of crimson spotted over your knuckles.

"A little tender," you say, feeling a tinge of fear when his other hand lifts off your waist to feel the damage.

"Looks real good on your pretty hand," he says, dragging his index finger over the protruding bones of your hand.

"Does it?" You ask, your barely there smile falling when you wince at the little bit of pressure Toji applies.

"No," he responds, bringing it up to his lips and pressing a kiss to the sore area. You wince again when his thumb drags over your skin with slightly more pressure than before. "It doesn't. We'll ice it when we get home, alright?" He lets up on the torturous touching, but keeps your hand in his. The words aren't meant to hurt you. He doesn't mean them and he hopes he communicates that with the way he still opts to hold your hand. Your hands will always be pretty to him, he just can't say that to you, right now. Not if it serves as the smallest bit of encouragement for you to repeat what happened earlier, in the future.

"Okay." You nod.

"Gimme a kiss and we can go home or wherever, if you wanna stay out."

You tilt your head up and wait for his lips to meet yours. It's a gentle brush of lips, but the second Toji's hands start slipping under the back of your sweater and your shirt, you know it's going to be more than a single kiss. You can feel the night's cold wind nipping at your skin, as his hands go higher up, his fingertips reaching just below the hooks of your bra. To your surprise, he unhooks the garment, causing you to quickly press your hands to your chest when the cups loosen, to prevent them from fully sliding down.

"Toji," you manage to utter out during the wave of kisses. You turn your head, receiving a kiss that was meant for your lips, on your cheek.

"Yeah... I think we should go home," he murmurs, against your skin. "Maybe we can rock the car a little bit before we go, hm?" Toji smirks when you let out that flustered giggle he's so familiar with. He presses another kiss to your cheek before you turn to face him, again.

"Okay, but let's not blow it all here. We have a nice and comfortable bed at home. Let's add another good night to it."

You don't miss the way Toji's lustfully lidded, green eyes, keep glancing down at your hands on your chest, or how he's mindlessly caressing your bare waist, under your shirt.

"Alright, ma." He pulls out his car keys and with the press of a button, the car unlocks with a beep and the brief, dull sound of flipping locks. "Get inside."

[fushiguruuzzzz]

xvi  ⊹ ࣪ ˖  L is for Weezer 

Series mlist 

Tags — possibly offensive humour, mentions of self hatred, lwk angst I fear 

Words — 1k 

Megumi had tossed his phone haphazardly to the other side of his bed, falling back onto the pillow and staring at the ceiling. He felt so utterly stupid. Nobara was right, honestly. He couldn’t just give up, just back away every single time he felt exposed, every time he felt as if a deeper layer of him was being shown. It scared him more than anything, to allow you to see those parts of him knowing you might not react the way he hoped. With the reveal of the vulnerable parts also came the risk of being harmed, hence why he was so guarded. He found himself converting every emotion into anger, bubbling and bursting like a geyser when the time came. Worst of all, he’d let that time be with you. He wasn’t angry at you, not in the least. He could never be angry at you. 

He was angry at Kamo for swooping in just when things felt right, he was angry at Nobara for bringing that on in the first place, and most of all, he was angry at himself. He’d pushed you away out of fear that his emotions were too much to bare, and now it had been two weeks since the two of you had shared a good conversation. He hated it. It was all his fault. 

You couldn’t ever love him. He couldn’t even love him, he hated him. It was only natural that you’d do the same, after all, you seemed to be rather parallel. Always in the same direction, never meeting. He just wished it wasn’t that way, he wished loving you wasn’t so scary and that at the very least, he could man up and admit it. He’d never been a forward man. Instead he pushed you away and treated you like an asshole. When you called him out he couldn’t even argue because everything you said was true. Every word, every bit of it, except for the implication that you’d done something wrong. 

Fuck, he felt like a middle schooler again. Living through university with you was just as heart wrenching, just as terrible. Yet again he found himself doing the wrong thing at the wrong time, every aspect of his life scrambled simply because you liked another boy. He’d never cared much for life, never found much purpose in his own, except for you. You… you were everything. 

“Fushiguro, get up, man!” came a voice from the doorway, along with a jacket being tossed at him, which he swatted away without a second thought. Yuji had been at it all week, trying to make Megumi get outside for reasons other than classes. 

“Screw off.” 

Yuji suppressed a groan, tossing his head back in exasperation. “Todo’s frat is having a party tomorrow. You’re going.” 

Megumi’s face pulled up into a scowl, disgust painting his features. A party, seriously? Did Yuji even know him? “No, I’m not.” 

“You are,” Yuji pushed. He let out a soft sigh, voice coming out a little softer when he continued. “Please. Just once. Everyone’s getting worried.” 

Megumi felt a pang of something in his chest. Guilt? Maybe. Compassion? Possibly. He let out an annoyed huff, similar to what your parents do when you beg for something before asking you to grab their wallet. “…fine. Just once.” 

Yuji grinned proudly, internally fist pumping. “Yes! Okay, we’ll go tomorrow night at ten.” 

“Hmph. ‘Kay.” 

Meanwhile, you were having a similar conversation, though with far more pestering and far more people. 

Toge was sprawled out on the carpet beside your bed, right next to Panda, whose circumference took up nearly half of the floors area. Maki was perched on her bed, Yuta standing idly at the bottom of it. Nobara, who had basically moved into your dorm by now, was sat at the bottom of yours. 

“You’re coming.”

“No.” 

“Please?”

“No.” 

“Please?” they simultaneously whined, except for Maki, who instead stared at you as if to tell you the choice wasn’t yours to make. 

You slumped against the wall your bed was pushed against, grumbling under your breath. “Oh my gosh, why? I don’t want to.” 

“You should get out, [name]. I’m concerned for you—we all are,” Yuta said, his gentle voice chipping away at your resolve. Screw nice boys and their soft spoken voices, and screw him for being your friend. 

“Think about it,” Nobara said, propping herself up on one arm. “If you look really hot, it’s revenge.” 

You rolled your eyes. “I don’t have much that’s ‘hot’ in my closet, anyway,” you whined. 

“You’re saying that to a shopping addict. That’s music to her ears,” Maki called from across the room. Well, she wasn’t wrong. Nobara seemed to be jittering with excitement simply from hearing it, already picturing the next trip to the mall in her mind. 

You mulled over it for a moment. There were both pros and cons included if you decided to agree. Pros: confidence boost, fun, quality time, happy friends. Cons: Megumi and Kamo were both likely to be there, considering (though Kamo more directly) they were both linked to Todo. It came down to the choice not of whether to go or not, but of whether you’d let a silly fight force you to be cooped up in your room wallowing in self pity, or if you’d push through. That realization alone was enough to force a nod from your head, a breath of air leaving your lips. 

“Okay, okay. I’ll be there.” 

Nobara, as well as the others, all lit up. Toge grinned at you from the floor, proud as if he’d done anything anyway. 

“We have to go shopping!” Nobara said. You agreed with a soft laugh and a hesitant nod, blissfully unaware of the events that awaited you. 

Taglist !¡ —

@1l-ynn @meowymeowbreow @missunrise @kiss-my-asscheeks @starrysho @good-mourning0 @gumims @beaniesayshi @mrowwww @luvvmae @megumislovedoll @azharyy @starsryi @tibibibi123 @idkidk32 @dazaisfavgf @tlissablr @vi0let-writes @walllflowerrrsss @sh0ot1ngst4r @blubearxy @tvnamayo @san-it-is-i-guess @harryzcherry @withlovesai

(Crossed out name means I can’t tag u!)

Megumi will forever be referred to as Firkle Smith Last name oooo… can’t listen to music so im miserable. You must be as well giggles this was kinda lazy but wtvvvv its okayyyy idk when to release the Yuji fic erm ill probably just wait for bttoh to be over and then post it we shall see…

[selineram3421]

*a lot of readers loving this fic* Daaaang.

Hissy Kitty

Part 5

Part 4

Alastor X Reader

Warnings ⚠

⚠ deer man still trying to stay in denial, blood/gore, Italics= thoughts, partial nudity mention, Bold= time shifts, gif is reader's shadow form. ⚠

Alastor felt like he was at the end of a shotgun barrel.

He froze, his hands shaking slightly and his undead heart thumping rapidly.

Quite a daring thing to say...

Husk stared at him in slight shock and something else. Something that the deer demon couldn't decipher. The two stood still, not moving an inch, just watching who would make the first move. Almost like an old west duel.

Finally, after a long silence, one of them spoke up.

"Leave them alone."

In all honesty, the cat demon had no idea what to do about this...situation, but he knew the Radio Demon. His boss was nothing but a cruel, insane, egotistical man who wanted power and control.

"I don't give a shit about what you do to me, but I know if you hurt me, they'll hate you.", Husk said before turning to leave the radio tower. "Whatever thing you've got? It's best to get rid of it now."

And with that, the feline left.

Now Alastor was alone, just like he wanted but he couldn't get rid of the thought of what the ex Overlord had said.

He couldn't deny it any longer.

Sighing, he ran a hand through his hair before making his way over to his chair.

I'll avoid them like the plague... He decided.

He stayed away for two weeks.

Leaving a room whenever they stepped foot inside, staying in his room, office, or radio tower when he didn't know where they were in the hotel.

And then something snapped.

The thought was screeching in his mind, clawing at his chest, a never ending cycle of want.

He had to-

No.

Needed to tell them.

Maybe confessing would help stop that feeling.

With the last of his sanity, Alastor stepped out of his radio tower and went to search for them with the help of his shadows.

.

You were confused at first by the absence of the red dressed demon but thought nothing of it since your brother seemed happier.

Charlie had given you the new job of welcoming new guests at the front desk but well...its been very boring.

No one checks in.

Like at all. The demons that do come in ask for directions and then there's Cherri Bomb, Angel's friend who stops by for a second or two. So, you spent most of your days talking to your brother at the bar, leaving a "ring the bell for assistance" sign at the check-in counter.

You held a glass of very diluted iced catnip tea, your brother made sure to make it that way so you don't run around the hotel like last time.

"Ugh.", you hid your face in embarrassment.

I can't believe Husk planned that. That jerk! You sighed. I did enjoy the nap after though..

Then your thoughts continued until it wound up to the last conversation you had with your brother about the red dressed demon.

After telling him what happened, Husk stood up real quick and said he'd be right back. Then he came back with snacks and his poker face.

What your brother doesn't know is that you can actually read his poker face. It's very, very faint, but his ears give him away. Depending on the way that it flicks, you can tell how bad a situation is.

And his ear flicked back twice.

Which means he doesn't like the current cards in his hand.

What did he get? You wonder and sip your drink.

Some more time passes and the next time you see Alastor in the same room as you is when the King comes to visit the hotel.

Keekee is in your arms and hops out once Lucifer stops hugging Charlie.

Things take a turn after some random flapper shows up and then there are shark sinners.

"MY WINDOWS!", Nifty screeches in horror.

It goes to shit really quickly, everything is too loud, everyone is running around and trying to stay out of the shooting range of the flaming boulders, and you were overstimulated with all of the things happening at once.

"GET BEHIND THE COUNTER KIT!", Husk grabs you by the shoulders and pushes you towards the bar.

You make a face once seeing the flapper, the reason loan sharks are attacking the hotel, is hiding behind the counter.

"Oh fuck this.", you sigh and walk away.

No wonder your brother said not to come here.

Its too loud..

The banging on the door didn't stop until the Radio Demon stepped out and the screams took over.

Too loud.

"I will devour each and every one of you!"

You covered your ears in pain, wishing you brought your headset.

"ITS TOO FUCKING LOUD!", you yell out.

.

Alastor reminisces when these feelings solidified.

It was when Lucifer and Mimzy showed up at the hotel. He had his fun messing around with the King, making the short blonde feel jealous.

Then Mimzy barged in, which is not a surprise, and started chatting up with the others.

What annoyed him was when Husk mentioned the deal that he, the Radio Demon, had made. Reminding him that he too needed to stay within range so his collar didn't choke his neck.

Then after taking care of Husk, he made his way downstairs to take care of Mimzy's mess.

And that's when it happened.

As he was ripping apart some of the loan sharks, he heard screaming from inside the hotel. Turning to deal with the ones that managed to slip past him, he finds a shadow creature with multiple eyes dragging the left over sharks into the darkness.

"NO! No, no, no, no, no! AH-!", a shark screamed before the shadow tore open his stomach and ripped out his intestines.

"Kit! You gotta calm down!", Husk yelled out.

"That's your little sibling!?", Angel screeched. "What the fuck happened!?"

"It was too damn loud, that's what happened!"

The two continued to bicker as they tried to move the shadow out of the hotel.

A piece of rubble fell and Mimzy side stepped away from it. "Oops. Sorry about the mess. I'm sure the little bug can handle it."

"Mimzy.", Alastor went back to his normal size and made his way towards the hotel. "I believe it's time for you to leave. Now."

"What-? Come on, you don't mean that~", the flapper laughs. "This dump doesn't mean anything to ya! And you love taking care of me!"

"I can't have you making a mess here.", he replied. "You can stay if you want to be redeemed.", he turned to look back at the short woman. "But we both know that's not your style."

"Fine! I don't need you! Have fun at this ritzy dump and-!"

Alastor ignored the rest and walked into the hotel lobby. Husk was the only one taking care of the shadow beast, while Angel was watching whatever was going on between the two royals with the others.

"It's ok now, calm down.", the cat demon said to the shadow in the corner.

"What or who is this?", the deer demon asks and points to the shadow creature.

"Pretty sure you ain't deaf, you heard Angel yell it out.", Husk said and started..purring?

"My! I didn't know you could make such an adorable sound!", he grinned.

"Shut up!", the cat hissed quietly. "They need to calm down, loud noises only make it worse!"

"Well, why didn't you say that sooner?"

With a snap of his fingers, he teleported the three of them into his room in the greenery area.

"The only sounds in here are nature, will this do?", Alastor asked.

"Yes, this is fine.", Husk nodded before getting focused, and pulled the shadow closer. "Kit? Listen. You're ok now.", he said and started purring again.

Their shadow figure was still too large, so the radio demon decided to add in some of his white noise static, earning a look from Husker.

"It helps.", was all he said.

Slowly but surely, the shadow got smaller and smaller before going back into a familiar figure. The darkness on their form began to fade away, starting from the tips of their feet/paws.

Before the shadow fully receded, Husk held out his hand.

"Give me a blanket or somethin'."

"Whatever for?", he asked with a raised brow.

"You wanna see them naked?"

Alastor quickly took off his coat and handed it over.

In a quick motion, the cat demon covered his sibling in the red fabric and wrapped an arm around their shoulders, holding them securely as they passed out.

A few moments passed before the demon in red decided to ask his question.

"What exactly happened?"

Husk was quiet for a bit and then sighed.

"I'll let them tell you."

Now, Alastor stood in front of your hotel room.

He felt like it was as if it was his first broadcast all over again. His nerves were all over the place and his hands felt tingly.

Clearing his throat, he prepared himself and knocked on their door.

"Dear? Are you there? There is something I wish to discuss with you."

A few heartbeats later, the door opens.

"Come in."

*flops over* I'm done for now. Stay tuned.

~Seline, the person.

Part 6

Taglist@

*In comments because there are SO many*

ML I for Alastor🎙️ | HK ChL😾

[hyperdramas]

1-800-got-stress | jeon wonwoo

pairing: jeon wonwoo x reader

warnings: non-idol au, college/professor au, slight romance (?), english professor wonwoo x teacher's assistant reader, tiny sprinkles of humor, one-sided crush (?), wonwoo is very dense when it comes to reader's romantic feelings (not really though), reader still loves him anyways, cute ending??

now playing: return of the mack, mack morrison

dedicated to: @k1eev (<3)

"After the lecture, I want you all to come see my assistant before you leave. She has the next module printed out and organized for you all." Wonwoo's deep voice is the next thing you hear once you snap back into reality, and many of the college student's eyes dart away from you as you look around, more than likely aware of how long you've been gaping at the English professor.

Jeon Wonwoo was the person always on your mind now—ever since you started as his teacher's assistant earlier this month, you've always been thinking about him.

He was everything you weren't—calm, professional, disciplined and put-together. He knew what to say and how to say it, and what to do and how to do it—you were ninety-nine percent convinced that there was nothing Wonwoo couldn't do.

Not only was he annoyingly perfect at his job, but he was annoyingly handsome too—he was handsome to a massive amount of people, students and other professors included. He had sharp eyes that seemed to grow even sharper with the perfect amount of tiredness, and hard-edged features that you had memorized now with how much you had stared at him when he worked.

Time went slow as Wonwoo talked, deep voice echoing through the lecture hall as he gave his presentation on the deeper story of Romeo and Juliet, asking his class questions as he gaged their attention span.

You thought about how nervous you would feel under Wonwoo's gaze. Your face just heated up at it, imagining how you wouldn't be able to look him in the face without feeling completely inadequate.

It was already hard for you to look him in the face, and you were his personal assistant.

"Please finish the last essay I assigned at the beginning of the month. Since we're starting a new module this Friday, I want everyone to be on the same page." Wonwoo's voice was monotonous as students started to pack their things, and you placed the stack of module papers on the desk, letting the students grab and go.

The class filtered out slowly, some staying behind to ask Wonwoo questions and garner advice from him. You watched them quietly, straightening the closet as you dipped in and out of their conversations.

You had just heard another professor enter the room, asking Wonwoo to go out with her tonight for a drink, (to which he politely refused), when Wonwoo had addressed you.

"Are you doing alright? You've looked really tired today." Wonwoo's thick, stern eyebrows are flat as he stares at you blankly, and you try to read his sharp eyes for any flicker of emotion for a quick second, giving up as you give him an awkward smile.

"Oh, I'm fine, Mr. Jeon. I'm not even tired—just a bit distracted, that's all." You reassure him, and Wonwoo nods, looking down at his watch as you finish straightening up your desk.

"You should get some rest. It's not good for you to be tired and trying to assist me, is it?" Wonwoo has a faint smile on his lips when he says this, and you try not to blush or melt under his hot gaze against your skin, fiddling with your collar awkwardly as you nod.

"Here, let me help you with those." Wonwoo's voice is directed to the stack of heavy books teetering on the end of your desk. You nod to him gratefully, allowing him to pick them up as you walk to the other side of the room, unlocking the storage closet door.

He held the books without strain, face still as he waited for you to finish putting your share of books down. Wonwoo followed you, cologne wafting in the air and drifting under your nose as he turned off the lights.

"Thank you for today. You did very well." Wonwoo's voice was sweet as he smiled at you, and you returned the gesture stiffly, making your way back to the desk as you grabbed your things.

"Of course, Mr. Jeon. You did well too, I mean—you did well with the lectures and everything. You teach everything in such a fresh way, it's tough for anyone to not be compelled or interested in what you're teaching." You were a sucker for Jeon Wonwoo, and it was starting to show more and more now—how were you supposed to be normal about him?

"It takes a lot to make the lecture engaging and informative, so I'm glad you think that of me. Many students call me the boring teacher." Wonwoo's voice is lighthearted as he finishes straightening up his desk, and you chuckle, mostly at the absurdity of his words.

"You're quite the opposite of a boring teacher, in my opinion. Your stories and explanations are way more animated than the textbooks could be." Were you showering your superior-turned-crush with embellished compliments? Yes. Did you want him to notice?

...Not really.

"You sure do have a lot to think about me, don't you?" Wonwoo's voice is still playful, even if it has a neutralness to it. You blush slightly at his words, earning a smile from Wonwoo as he smiles. "I'm just teasing you. I appreciate everything you say to me."

A slight pink tint to Wonwoo's cheeks brings an even brighter one to yours, and the two of you fall silent, obviously sensing something between you. Wonwoo's eyes rake over your form, and you shyly look up at him, dark brown eyes behind his frame still making you warm inside as you sigh (dreamily and deliriously, as you might add).

You had made Wonwoo—Professor Jeon Wonwoo, the boring, scarily neutral English professor—blush from your compliments. You would be wallowing in your achievement if you weren't also blushing at the moment.

"Well, I, uh—" You stumble over your words, also stumbling over your book as you pick it up from the floor. Wonwoo watches you quietly, glasses sliding down his strong nose bridge slightly as he watches you head towards the door. "I should get going. It's getting late, and I have to be back here early tomorrow."

"I'll walk you to your car." Wonwoo nods, following suit as he slips his jacket over his broad shoulders and picks up his briefcase. His dress shoes hit the wooden floor as he follows after you, and he turns out the light, leaving you two engulfed in darkness for a few seconds as you stumble back, stepping on Wonwoo's foot.

He grunts harshly under you, and you scramble back, lights in the hallway illuminating your embarrassed blush. "Oh my god, I'm so sorry."

Wonwoo just smiles again, smile lines sending butterflies that go straight to your stomach. "No worries. You couldn't see because of me, and I'm sorry." His cologne is so strong and so him you can't think straight, but you do your best to string your words together.

"Well, Mr. Jeon, I'll see you tomorrow," The two of you had just left the building, now by your car as you unlock the door. Wonwoo watches you with sharp eyes, clearing his throat as you turn to him.

"If—If you'd like, we should converse over dinner sometime. Not as coworkers, but as good friends." Wonwoo's sentence brought a rude awakening to your world, and you stood in shocked silence for a second, processing what he said to you as you blinked blankly.

Wonwoo considered you to be a good friend—you would have never told by how unfazed he was by most things, but he considered you to be more than a coworker or partner. He saw you as a friend. A good friend who was asking you to dinner.

"Yeah, we—we should, Mr. Jeon." You agree, and Wonwoo clears his throat, sharp eyes daring away as he adds, "Oh, and you can call me Wonwoo. We're comfortable with each other now, so we can drop the formalities."

Not only were you Wonwoo's good friend, but you were such a good friend you could now call Mr. Jeon by his real name, Wonwoo. Too many green flags were going off in your head, but could Wonwoo sense he was giving you all these green flags? It only made your crush on him worse.

"Well, I'll get going, Wonwoo." Even his name on your lips felt sweet, and Wonwoo nodded, giving you a small wave as he closed your car door.

"Until tomorrow." He smiles softly again, and you melt into your seat, smiling as you nod back. "Until tomorrow."

feedback & reblogs are appreciated! love u lyrnation <3

[captainsophiestark]

Dance Like Nobody's Watching

Dick Grayson x Reader

Masterlist - Join My Taglist!

Written for Fictober 2024!

Fandom: DC

Day Twenty-Seven Prompt: "Let me remind you."

Summary: Dick's SO is having trouble adjusting to the new scrutiny of attending Wayne galas as his date, but thankfully, he has an idea to help with that.

Word Count: 1,449

Category: Fluff

Putting work into an AI program without permission is illegal. You do not have my permission. Do not do it.

I sipped my champagne, trying to get a handle on my nerves. I could handle fighting the Joker and Scarecrow with no problems, but attending a Wayne gala as the partner of Dick Grayson was throwing me for a loop.

I fought the urge to scowl about it. If one thing could make this night more awkward, it would be some person I barely knew finding me making faces in the corner.

What irritated me the most was that this was by no means my first Wayne gala. I'd grown up with Dick and spent countless hours in the manor with him and his family. We'd been each other's primary entertainment at these things as kids. But being here as his date, and as an adult expected to do more than turn the banquet tables into a fort, was turning out to be surprisingly stressful.

When we were kids, nobody seemed to care what we did much beyond just noticing and thinking we were cute. Now, it seemed like everybody in this room wanted something from Dick, and either saw me as a threat to their ability to get it or as a secret backdoor to him, if only they could get me on their side.

I was seriously on the edge of losing it and going back to the buffet tables kid-style.

Dick had done his best to stick with me, but people kept showing up to pull both of us away from each other for a conversation, and we hadn't been able to do much without being incredibly, obviously rude. I'd finally managed to extract myself enough for some breathing room, but I could see Dick still in the middle of things, a group of old men who almost certainly wanted money from Bruce talking his ear off.

Even from here, I could tell Dick was barely paying attention to them. His eyes scanned the crowd, and after a moment, they landed on me. He raised an eyebrow, and I gave him a reassuring smile. Unfortunately for me, he knew me too well and was too good of a detective to believe it.

Dick quickly made his excuses to the men around him, and didn't take no for an answer as he left the conversation and headed in my direction. He crossed the massive room quickly to stand before me, and this time when I smiled at him, it was much more genuine.

"Hey," he said, returning my smile and leaning in to kiss my temple as soon as he reached me. "How are you doing?"

"Good." I tried to strengthen my smile, but Dick saw right through it. He raised an eyebrow at me.

"...Are you sure?"

I sighed. "It's just... this all feels a little weird. I've known you forever, you know it's never been important to me that you're the famed son of billionare Bruce Wayne. But it seems like that's all anybody else here can think about, and they all either hate me because they want to be with you or want to be my new best friend, all so they can get to you and Bruce. It's fine, none of their opinions matter to me, but... I just didn't expect to feel so weird coming to one of these things again."

Dick took a step closer to me, reaching out to take my arm with a concerned look on his face. He spoke quietly enough that, even if someone had been intentionally eavesdropping (which had happened more than once tonight), they wouldn't be able to hear him.

"Do you want to go? I'm happy to leave if you want to. We don't have to stay here."

I shook my head before he'd even finished his sentence.

"Running and no-showing Bruce's galas isn't a long-term solution. And seriously, it's fine, I'll adjust. I just... I don't know. I miss the days where we hid under the punch bowl giggling out of sight of everybody, you know?"

My boyfriend grinned. "I mean, if you really think about it, there's nothing keeping us from doing that again."

"I can think of a few things," I laughed, swatting his shoulder lightly. He hummed, but sobered quickly as he scanned the room, clearly thinking.

"Well... if you're sure you don't want to commandeer the space under the desert table?"

"I'm sure."

"Then why don't we try dancing? That's a little more... socially acceptable than hiding under the tables, but it's one of the things we used to have the most fun doing at these things. Remember how we'd just take over the entire floor to do whatever we wanted when we were kids?"

I laughed. "Yeah, of course. Although it's a little harder to remember the feeling that inspired us to just run out there before."

Dick smiled softly and extended his hand to me.

"Let me remind you."

My heart did a little backflip, especially when I met Dick's sparkling blue eyes. I huffed a little laugh of disbelief, especially at the thought of stepping into the center of the spotlight when I knew just how many people were going to be watching. But then I looked at Dick again, and I decided that, as long as I was with him, they didn't matter.

I took his hand, and he didn't waste a second before pulling me after him to the dance floor. I laughed, unable to hold back a smile even as heads turned towards us. Dick ignored them completely. He pulled me to his chest when we reached the center of the floor and wrapped an arm securely around my waist, the other taking one of my hands. I rested my free hand on his shoulder, and as we started swaying together to the music, his eyes didn't leave mine for a second.

"You know..." he started after a moment, drawing my attention back from a glance over his shoulder to where people were watching us. "This is nice, but a slow dance wasn't exactly what I had in mind."

I gave Dick my full attention and raised an eyebrow.

"I'm almost afraid to ask, but... what did you have in mind?"

He grinned. "Something more like this."

Suddenly, Dick was spinning me out and away from him, twirling across the floor before pulling me back. We'd know each other long enough and spent enough time as vigilante teammates that his steps were easy to follow, even as he started something closer to swing that didn't match the music at all.

I laughed, a warm feeling spreading through my chest as I shared a smile with my partner. In the back of my mind, I knew more people were probably watching and judging than ever. But suddenly they didn't matter like they used to.

Dick swung me around again, then pulled me close and into an exaggerated dip. If I didn't know he was a superhero, I probably would've been a little worried about him dropping me. Instead, it just made me laugh, especially as Dick grinned and led me into something way too close to something you'd do to Cotton Eye Joe.

With every second that passed on the dance floor with Dick, everyone else in the room faded further and further away. It felt like when we were kids, just me and the most important person in the world to me having the time of our lives.

"Feel any better?" asked Dick, whispering in my ear as he pulled me close again, both hands wrapped tight around my waist. I smiled, running my hands up his arms and across his shoulders.

"So much better. Thank you."

"You don't need to thank me. We're partners, you know I'd never leave you hanging."

I pulled back enough to meet Dick's eyes, and found their familiar sparkle and a smile waiting for me. I gave him a soft smile back.

"I love you, Dick Grayson. So fucking much."

Dick beamed back at me. "I love you too. Now come on, the band's finally catching on to what we want. I want to dance with the love of my life to music that's actually fun for dancing."

I just laughed as Dick swung me out and away from him again, the two of us twirling across the floor, this time in sync with the now-faster music. Suddenly, after a few minutes with Dick, the propsect of all these Wayne galas didn't seem nearly so daunting anymore. Sure, I might have to deal with a few unpleasant strangers whose opinions didn't matter to me. But I'd also get to do this, laughing and dancing and having the time of our lives, with my favorite person in the world.

Worth it in the long run, as far as I was concerned.

****************

Everything Taglist: @rosecentury @kmc1989 @space-helen @misshale21

DC Taglist: @gaychaosgremlin @v1ckycheesue @lavender-dinos @g0atmansbridge182

[faithshouseofchaos]

Franco x driver reader- She is a rookie who started before him and the others on the grid are protective of her since she has no one with her (her family never goes to see her or supports her). They start talking and the other drivers act like older brothers.

A/n— Hi 👋 @alex-wotton I went with the last one because it really stood out to me because I realized last night that if I was a f1 driver traveling to races would be pretty lonely as my mom has lupus and is in pain all the time and my siblings are still in school while my dad works out on the road. I will also be doing the others to.

Oh one more thing this is just a little look into the big fic around this request I’ll be doing later… depending on how well this does.

"They mean well" — Franco Colapinto x fem! rookie diver! Reader

Fluff slightly angsty

Word count—1122

Summary — Franco befriend's the female Alpine rookie the only problem is that he now has to deal with her guard dogs.

The first few weeks on the grid were a whirlwind, especially since you were a rookie in a sport where every second counts, and every move you make is scrutinized. It was hard, almost overwhelming, and though you knew the other drivers were competitive, you quickly realized that there was a quieter, more supportive side to them. You couldn’t deny how much it helped to have the older drivers looking out for you.

Lando had taken to teasing you right away. His cheeky humor and constant lighthearted comments were always enough to make you laugh, even on the toughest days. “You’re doing better than most of the vets, you know,” he’d say after a particularly good lap, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “Next time, you’ll have to give me some pointers!”

Max, who often seemed aloof to others, was surprisingly attentive. He noticed when you were on your own, after long days when you would simply wander the paddock, minding your own business. Without a word, he would sidle up next to you, hands shoved deep into his pockets, and talk about the most mundane things—anything to take your mind off the pressure. “Have you ever tried the coffee from the new stand near the paddock? Best one in town,” he’d comment, knowing full well it was an excuse to pull you into a conversation that wasn’t about racing for once.

Charles, ever the older brother type, was the one who would make sure you didn’t slip into your head too much. He could tell when the weight of everything was starting to build up on your shoulders. “Hey,” he’d say, voice gentle but firm. “You’re doing fine. Don’t let the stress get to you. You have a team behind you.”

And then there was Franco. He was quieter than the others, but his presence was undeniable. He’d only just joined the grid, and the others were quick to embrace him, but it was clear that his personality was different—calmer, more reserved. You found that, over time, you felt a quiet connection with him. It wasn’t an in-your-face, loud support, but a steady, reassuring presence.

One evening, after another intense qualifying session, you found yourself walking alone by the garages, replaying every corner of the track in your head. You were exhausted, physically and mentally, but you didn’t want to be a burden to the others, so you walked it off in silence. Franco noticed you from across the paddock and, with a knowing look, excused himself from a conversation he was having with Lando.

When he reached you, there was no fanfare, just a casual ease that made you relax almost immediately.

“Hey, everything okay?” Franco asked, his voice soft yet direct.

You smiled, a little weary, but grateful. “Just thinking about the session. Could’ve done better.”

He shook his head, his lips curling into a small smile. “You did fine. We all have those moments, don’t overthink it.”

You let out a breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding. “It’s just… hard sometimes. Being the rookie and feeling like you’re always falling short.”

Franco tilted his head slightly, studying you for a moment before replying. “I get it. I’m still the new guy here too, remember? But honestly, the others are looking out for you. They’ve got your back.”

The way he said it was simple, but there was a sincerity behind it that made something inside you relax. Franco wasn’t offering empty words—he meant it.

And it wasn’t just him. The next time you walked into the paddock and bumped into Max, he clapped you on the shoulder with a grin. “You looked a bit off yesterday. If you need a break, you know where to find me.”

Lando, catching wind of the exchange, chimed in from a few feet away. “Yeah, don’t make us have to drag you into our fun. We’re here for more than just the racing.”

The protectiveness came in waves. Sometimes it was subtle—Charles, pulling you aside to offer advice on staying focused during the race, or Lando, joking around to make you laugh when the stress of the weekend was beginning to get to you. But sometimes, it was a little more overt.

The first time you really felt the weight of their protectiveness was after a particularly tough race, where you finished outside the points. The media was relentless, questions flying about whether you were cut out for the sport, and you could feel the eyes of the paddock on you.

As you were heading back to your garage, head down, trying to shut out the noise, you suddenly felt a hand on your shoulder. It was Max.

“You don’t let them get to you,” he said quietly, looking you in the eyes. “It’s one race. And you’ll get them next time.”

Before you could respond, Lando appeared, his usual grin plastered across his face. “Max is right, of course. And if they keep giving you trouble, just let me know. I’m pretty good at handling the media.”

Charles joined them, his voice more serious than usual. “We’ve all been there. Don’t let them make you doubt yourself. We’re all in this together.”

That was when it hit you—this wasn’t just about the competition on the track. They truly cared about you, and despite the pressures of racing, they weren’t about to let you face it alone.

Franco appeared just as they were finishing up, walking over to the group with a quiet smile. “Everyone’s right,” he added, offering a knowing look. “And if you ever need someone to talk to, I’m always around. No need to fight your battles alone.”

From that moment on, you felt the weight of their protectiveness more than ever. It wasn’t just about them looking out for a rookie; it was about them making sure you knew that no matter what happened, you weren’t alone on the grid.

The bond between you and Franco deepened as the weeks went on. In between races, the two of you shared quiet conversations in the back of the garage, or while waiting for your cars to be prepped. You spoke about everything—racing, family, the weird quirks of the Formula 1 lifestyle, and even the things you’d been avoiding thinking about. Franco’s steady support and dry humor became something you could rely on, and the way he listened without judgment made him one of the few you truly felt comfortable with.

In a world that often felt like a competition to survive, you finally understood: you had people here, and they weren’t just teammates or rivals—they were your family.

And Franco, despite being new to the grid himself, was starting to feel more like a brother than just a teammate.

[deya38]

*English is not my real language, so I work with a translator. I apologize for the errors found!!!*

"Cracks in the Heart" Prologue...chapter 1...chapter 2

You loved the rain very much, you and mom and dad often went for walks in it… But the rain took your beloved parents away… now you are alone… with your toy Harley…. This is the last gift from mom… And here comes the rain again. A five-year-old child stands under an umbrella in a black dress, crying and wiping her little tears. Your nanny Lily stands next to you and holds the umbrella. Alfred stands nearby. You watch as your parents' coffins are lowered into the damp, cold ground. Tears roll down your cheeks, your little nose is red from how many times you wiped it with a napkin. The final resting place of your parents is covered with dirt. Alfred placed his hand on your shoulder.

“Lady… it’s time to go…”

I turn to him and hug Lily one last time.

“Lily, I will miss you…”

“(Your/name) I will also miss you, but the best life awaits you… You will have many opportunities… when you come back here, I will meet you with open arms…”

She hugs you tightly.

“Goodbye, little one,” kissing you on the forehead, she let go. Wiping your tears and getting to her feet, she helped Alfred put you in the car. When the car started moving, Lily watched her with her gaze, you looked in response into her beautiful blue eyes that radiated sadness… you watched until she disappeared from sight. Sitting up straight, you turned your attention to Alfred.

“Alfred…”

“Yes, lady?”

“And Bruce… is he good? Is he as good as my dad?”

“Lady, Bruce is your father, and he has a kind heart. You have many brothers and sisters, and your father loves them all…”

A He Will Love Me?

A he will love me? His love for me will be enough? After all, he loves so many people, I am afraid that his love for me will not be enough! -Of course, it will be enough. His love is inexhaustible.

At this point, your conversation stopped. You looked out the window, the trees quickly flashed before your eyes, the rain drummed against the window.

_________________Time Skip________________

You stood in front of a huge mansion more resembling a castle. You took Alfred's hand with your little hand, he headed towards the entrance of the house. Opening the large doors, the elderly butler let you inside. You looked around the hall, but there was no one there...

When Alfred closed the door and turned around, his face frowned.

-Alfred... where is dad?-You thought that your new father would come to greet you, but apparently, that is not the case.

-Perhaps he is in the office... I think it is worth notifying him of your arrival.

Going up, you walked down a long corridor, you counted about five doors, and at the very end of the corridor was it... a dark door... shadows emanated from it... as if warning you...

-Alfred, do you see this too?- The elderly butler looked in your direction with a look of confusion.

-What exactly? ...

-Nothing... just seemed so...

The rest of the way to your father's office you spent in complete silence. Here you are standing at the threshold, Alfred raises his hand and with a light wrist movement knocks on the door, and a knock is heard.

Come in, you heard a deep and clearly tired voice that belongs to your father. Alfred was the first to enter the room, followed by you, and carefully closing the door, he straightened up...

-Master Bruce do you remember that Police Commissioner Gordon called you about your biological daughter?

-Yes…-he replied, still hunched over the table, sifting through a pile of papers.-What’s the matter?

-She has already arrived, sir… -Alfred nudged you forward a bit so that your father could see you. You looked at the stern man and hugged your toy Harley tighter.

-Come on, miss, you need to say hello-whispered the elderly butler to you.

-Hello…- during the entire conversation, your so-called father did not lift his gaze to you; he was more interested in the papers on his desk.

-Alfred, place her in one of the rooms and order everything she needs.-

He spoke as if you were not in the room.

-And please do not distract me until dinner if it is not something serious.-

That’s how your first meeting with your “father” went.

————————————————————————

All the rooms are occupied, and now you wander through lonely and confusing corridors.

The walls are adorned with grotesque portraits of people unknown to you and gloomy landscapes that you have never seen.

You hear some buzzing… and it is so familiar… you are being led by some unknown force… Harley hangs in your hand, dark shadows crawling out of nowhere wrap around your legs and lead you… They seem so familiar and dear… You want to cry from this…

Here you stand before a door, voices are calling you… asking you to open this door… Your eyes darted to the portrait hanging next to the door.

It was a woman of unprecedented beauty and elegance.

-This is your grandmother, Martha Wayne.She was like an angel descended from heaven, kind and ready to help everyone.I’m sure you would have liked her.-

Looking back, you glanced at Alfred. a soft smile was visible on his face directed at you.

-You look so much like her.-

Turning back to the door, all the shadows disappeared, and you no longer heard the voices.

-Alfred, I want this room.

----------------- Time Skip -----------------------

Almost a week has passed since your move; new furniture was ordered for you, and you and Alfred went and bought a lot of new clothes and many new toys, but you never parted with your beloved Harley.

You started to see the shadows more often; they crawled out from the corners or the bed, but as soon as someone appeared in their line of sight, they disappeared.

You ran through the corridor playing with Harley.

You began to do this more often; you liked running through the large and spacious corridors.

The ringing laughter echoed through the deserted halls zalam

Harley was dangling in your hand while you were running. Suddenly, you bumped into something or someone, but you managed to keep your balance just in time.

-Baby! Watch where you’re running! You are my new little sister, right? Nice to see you!I’m Dick. The guy ruffled your hair.

-Y…YES! I (your/name) -You exclaimed excitedly, as someone other than Alfred paid attention to you.

-You haven’t seen Alfred? He usually cleans up here at this time…

-He went to get groceries…-you mumbled barely audibly.

-Don’t you want to play with me and Harley? -You shyly averted your eyes and raised the toy so he would notice it. His face twisted at the sight of the toy in a black and red suit, but you didn’t notice that.

-No, baby, I have a lot to do. I’ll definitely play with you next time!

With that, your conversation ended, and you smiled like a silly girl because you finally met one of your brothers.

———————————————————————-

After dinner, you were getting ready for bed. Shadows began to crawl out from under the bed… they became bolder and bolder…

Getting up from the chair, you approached the shadows and extended your hand… A misty little whisker timidly reached out to your outstretched hand, as if studying you… and then, scared of something, it slid back under the bed.

Leaning down and looking under the bed, you saw only darkness that was luring you more and more…

[beetlethebug]

hello today my thoughts are consumed by Spite flirting with Emmrich and Lucanis to rile up Rook. Even better with a Rook without Spirit Sense, so they can only gauge what's going from the occasional lapse of Lucanis' control over Spite and the blushing, near-stuttering messes they become. Especially during meals with the whole Veil Guard. Spite learning some sense of subtlety through osmosis, so he starts with compliments. Granted, Spite's "subtle" compliments are typically ones without expletives, so they are still intense and heated and, if they catch Emmrich at the right time, enough to make his voice stutter.

He starts by stating the things Lucanis already likes about Emmrich. Things that they both hold in high on the list of things they appreciate about Emmrich. Flirting on Lucanis' behalf, if you would. "Lucanis loves your hands, professor," paired with just enough power exerted to force Lucanis' head to tilt in the direction of Emmrich's hands, baring his throat just enough that Emmrich can see it bob in a swallow as Emmrich finishes cutting himself a bite. "He would very much like to see those hands wrapped around something else. He made a new set of choking cords just for you. Did you know that? He made them in Mourn Watch colors."

Spite letting Lucanis retreat into his coffee, purring lowly as Emmrich's face starts to flush. Waiting until Lucanis is almost done with his drink to say, "He likes your boots better, though. He would very much like to be under them." Emmrich and Lucanis having to wave off concerns of the other Veil Guard members as they both choke, Rook glancing between the two curiously. They might not be able to hear what's going on, but they've seen the signs before. They settle more comfortably to watch the display like a sporting match.

And when Spite starts complimenting Lucanis, oh, the man nearly has to excuse himself to run his head under water, he's burning up so badly. "I like how I can feel every muscle working when we're in combat together. I like seeing your blood bead on the little cuts I make for you. I love the thudding of your heart, the feeling of your adrenaline. I like the way your brows scrunch and then get soft whenever you smell coffee for the first time. I like when you eat sweet things for me."

Spite having a little tally going, one on each thigh, for every time that he makes Lucanis and Emmrich stutter or pause during the initial flirting phase. Low little murmurs of, "That's another one," and "Oh, that one got Emmrich good." Emmrich realizes what the count is for soon enough and tries to focus more on paying attention to conversation at the dinner table, but if Spite hates anything, it's to be ignored (though he does appreciate the set of the professor's jaw, and the thudding pulse of Lucanis' heart, the heat in his blood).

If Emmrich is going to ignore him, then he'll simply up the ante. If Emmrich doesn't want to listen to all the things that he and Lucanis want him to do to them, then they'll talk about their collective favorite subject: Rook. "Look at their mouth--isn't it pretty? It'd look better full of our fingers. You should let me take over, Lucanis--I'd have them begging for it faster than you could blink. Do you think they'd lay in our lap again? I liked when we did that. Oh, maybe they'll sit in it. You liked that idea, I felt it. Emmrich, what do you think? What position do you like Rook best in? We like the sight of them on top of you. We want to see it again. Don't you want to see it again?"

Lucanis and Emmrich slamming their hands on the table, the same conclusion reached in equally frantic manners. Neve asking with a teasing smile if something is the matter, or did their conversation about Dalish alchemy really bore them to tears? Emmrich and Lucanis gritting out in the same breath, "It's Spite."

"Just tell him it's not his turn. Works for us." Taash comments, though they're grinning. They can smell how worked up these two are, and was placing bets with Davrin and Harding about which one would crack first.

"Spite," Rook scolds, but it's all grins. Their eyes are shinning, leg bouncing underneath the table. "You know you can always talk to me if you want something. No need to bully poor Emmrich and Lucanis."

"Do not encourage him," Lucanis begs, knuckles going pale from where they grip the table. Emmrich is truly struggling to regain his composure, trying to assemble anything resembling a calm front. But Spite takes the opportunity to take over, forcing Lucanis' body to relax. Digging his hands into his thighs instead, feeling Lucanis' body shudder with the ache. "I was simply telling Lucanis and Emmrich how much I appreciated them." Deceptively coy, but the sharpness in his grin gives it all away. "How much we appreciate you."

"Get a room already," Taash yells, sweeping the pile of coin she earned towards her plate.

"Well, Rook? Shall we get a room?"

[phosphorescentdreaming]

Politely requesting Jean and Andrew drabble. Andrew teaching Jean how to have boundaries and stand on his own two feets. 👉👈

"What are you doing?" Andrew's words pierced through Jean's racing thoughts, ringing like a church bell through the cacophony that had Jean picking at the beds of his fingernails. Andrew fixed him with a level, expectant stare.

"I do not know," Jean admitted to him while trying to keep his own words from getting caught inside of his chest. The edge of his right thumbnail had begun to bleed, but that didn't stop his index finger from continuing to dig into that same spot. The mild sting was enough to keep him on his feet and breathing: a small victory. Andrew didn't speak again, and Jean felt compelled to fill the silence. "I do not speak to the press. It's forbidden. I have never had any kind of training. I am sure to say something that will bring shame to my team." His voice grew more and more tight in his throat as he continued. "I am not allowed to speak. All that I am worthy of is a position on the court. Yet they wish to put a camera in my face and have asked me to smile and wish me to lie about my sentiments of the game."

"Then don't do it."

The suggestion was so utterly absurd to Jean that it snapped him momentarily from his rising anxiety and panic over the situation. "What?" he asked with no small amount of incredulity.

"Tell them no," Andrew rephrased his suggestion. When Jean looked at him like he'd completely lost his mind, Andrew only shrugged and quoted Bee. "It's a complete sentence."

"You're mad."

"Not anymore." Andrew seemed mildly amused by a joke that Jean didn't comprehend.

"They'll be furious," Jean countered.

Andrew raised an eyebrow at him and looked over to the Trojan benches beside the court. The crowd of red and gold was filled with laughter and animated conversation. Upon looking their way, Jeremy beamed and waved to them, arm over his head. "Sure," Andrew snorted, voice saturated with sarcasm, "and they kick puppies for fun."

"I am serious," Jean bit out, irked that Andrew wasn't seeing things from his point of view.

"Look, either you do the pre-game interview, or you don't. If you do it, there's no way you can say something worse than Neil does just for shits and giggles. If you don't, they'll send someone else to do it." Andrew looked back to Jean, chin tilted up so he could meet his gaze. A moment of silence passed between them before Andrew reminded Jean of a fundamental truth he seemed to have forgotten. "He's dead."

Jean's eyes fell to the floor as he let those words sink in. He was silent for so long that Andrew began to wonder if he hadn't sent the man into a fit of catatonia. Finally, Jean spoke. "I am not ready."

"Then go tell them that." Andrew jerked his chin in the direction of Jean's teammates. "They'll send somebody else to talk to the cameras. The world's not going to end because you pass on press duty."

Although unconvinced, Jean gave a slight nod of his head. It took a few more seconds for his legs to work again, but he stepped away from the goalkeeper and began to walk in the direction of the court.

Drabble requests are OPEN

[nightwriter357]

Just friends - if it was like.. a real first date

Here is part 5 of my Damien Haas x reader story: Just friends. Sorry for the long wait, I hope it was worth it!

Chapter 5 - if it was like.. a real first date

You and Damien were still lounging on the couch, getting lost in idle conversation when the door to your apartment swung open, and in walked Shayne, kicking off his shoes and tossing his jacket onto a chair.

"Hey, guys," he called out, glancing at the two of you sprawled across the couch. "I should have known I'd find you both here, you've both been sitting here like this every friday all month."

Damien groaned dramatically, throwing his arm over his face. "It's just so... cozy."

"Yeah, but seriously, every Friday?" Shayne said, a sly smile creeping onto his face as he flopped down next to you. "You know, you could do something else, right?

"Like what?" you asked, raising an eyebrow. 

Shayne shrugged, clearly enjoying what he was about to stir up. "I don't know, go to a party, go on a date, go to a concert... live a little, you know?"

Damien snorted, rolling his eyes. "A date? Who even has time for that? We're just chillin' here."

"You know what, he's actually right," you chimed in, sitting up and turning to Damien. "We should actually be going on dates. I mean, how are we supposed to find someone if we're glued to this couch every weekend?"

Damien blinked, his lips parting as if to respond, but then he seemed to hesitate. His gaze flickered to the floor for a moment before lifting to meet yours, his expression shifting into something that was a mix of uncertainty and something else — something harder to place. He leaned back into the couch, his shoulders stiffening slightly, and you couldn't help but notice the way his fingers drummed nervously against his knee.

"Yeah," he said, his voice a little quieter than usual, "I guess we should... try something else." The way he said it made it sound like he wasn't entirely convinced.

You shrugged, trying to keep the conversation light. "I mean, we just need to figure out what to do on an actual date and then just try it with the first person we match with on any dating app."

Damien looked at you, his brow furrowing slightly as if he was still processing the idea. "Yeah, but... where do we even start? Like, what does a actual date even look like?"

You glanced at Shayne, who was now munching on a snack, clearly entertained by the direction the conversation was taking. "You know, it's not like we're gonna find someone to go on a date with tonight anyway so why don't we just do a practice run?"

Damien snorted. "Practice? You mean like... a fake date?" His voice was laced with disbelief, but there was something in his eyes that suggested he was curious.

"Exactly," you said, leaning forward and grinning. "Think of it as a dry run. We could just go out and do date-type stuff, see how we feel. We're not really dating anyone, but it's kind of like preparing for the real thing. Like... if we don't actually try it, how are we going to know what we want?"

Damien raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued but skeptical. "what if I already know what I want?" He chuckled softly. 

"Well, you don't" you shot back with a shrug. "Listen, we'll just go to a restaurant, see where the night takes us ."

Shayne, who had been silently watching the whole time, perked up. "Wait, hold on. Are you two seriously considering this? Practicing dates?" He laughed, looking between the two of you with an exaggerated look of disbelief. "That sounds... kinda cute, actually."

"Alright, alright," Damien said slowly, still unsure but clearly playing along. "So dinner, that's it?"

You leaned back, thinking for a moment, then flashed him a teasing smile. "Yeah, unless we spot something essential for a first date."

Damien let out a short laugh as he scratched the back of his neck. "Yeah, I guess it could be fun. So... when do we start?"

You smiled at him, feeling the tension in the air shift—just a little. "Soon. But first, I need to get ready." You gestured down at your outfit—a cozy set of pajamas. "This is definitely not an appropriate first date outfit."

Damien raised an eyebrow, but before he could respond, you stood up and headed toward your room. "I'll be quick," you called over your shoulder. "Kind of excited, actually," you admitted, feeling a slight thrill at the idea.

Damien looked up, giving you a small smile. "Yeah... me too," he replied, his voice a little softer than usual.

Shayne, who had been silently watching, piped up at that moment. "Me too."

You both turned toward him, raising your eyebrows in unison.

"Wait, what?" you asked, confused.

Shayne leaned back with a grin. "I get the apartment to myself for once," he said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

You and Damien exchanged a look, both stifling laughter at his lack of shame.

You turned to head to your room, but then paused at the door and glanced back with a playful smile. "Oh, you planned this, didn't you?" you teased, catching the look in Shayne's eyes.

Shayne tried to look innocent, throwing his hands up dramatically. "I have no idea what you're talking about," he said like he played no part in this situation.

You and Damien shared another look before shaking your heads, as you headed to your room to get ready. You closed the door behind you, letting out a breath you didn't even realize you'd been holding. You had no idea why this felt like such a big deal, but there was something about this 'practice date' that had you both excited and nervous all at once. Maybe it was jusr the memory of that kiss you shared, or maybe it was just all off the tension that you both had been dancing around for weeks, pretending it wasn't there. But it could also be nothing, it's probably nothing

You quickly stripped out of your pajamas and ran your fingers through your hair. What vibe were you going for? Cute? Flirty, but not trying too hard? Your eyes landed on the dress you'd bought ages ago, a soft light blue that hugged your curves just right. It wasn't too much, but it felt like just the right thing for tonight.

You pulled it on, smoothing it down, and smiled at your reflection. It wasn't over-the-top, but it was enough. You let your hair fall in loose waves, and after one last glance in the mirror, you nodded to yourself.

"Okay, yeah, this will work."

You stepped into the living room, smoothing your hands over your dress as you walked. The fabric swished softly around your legs. Their conversation instantly died, Damien's gaze snapped to you, his breath catching in his throat.

He sat frozen on the couch, his usual easygoing demeanor replaced with something harder to place. His eyes flickered over you—not in a way that felt uncomfortable, but in a way that made you feel almost exposed. You weren't sure what you'd expected, but the way his jaw tightened, like he was physically stopping himself from saying something, made your chest feel strangely tight.

"Wow," Shayne said first, breaking the silence as he leaned back on the couch. "You clean up nice." He gave you a teasing once-over, his grin widening.

"Thanks," you said with a small laugh.

Damien cleared his throat, standing a little too quickly and brushing invisible lint off his jeans. His gaze flickered to Shayne, then back to you. "You, uh, definitely look!" he blurted, his voice lighter than usual, like he was trying too hard to sound casual.

"Are you going to finish the sentence?" you responded, raising an eyebrow.

"I mean, I did—didn't I?" He responded quickly, shoving his hands into his pockets. His ears had turned pink, though he was doing his best to act like he hadn't just tripped over his own words.

For a moment, the room felt lighter, the tension diffusing as Damien's lips curved into a sheepish smile. His gaze flickered to you again, softer this time, before quickly darting away, almost as if he'd caught himself lingering too long.

Shayne, however, wasn't one to let a moment pass without commentary. He leaned back on the couch with an exaggerated nod of approval, clearly relishing the opportunity to stir the pot. "Wow, Damien, really committing to the practice date, huh? You're really taking this role seriously."

Damien shrugged, his hands sliding casually into his pockets. "Well, you know me," he said, his tone easy and confident. "Always going for authenticity."

Shayne snorted, leaning forward with a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Alright, so your role is the head-over-heels date. Mine should obviously be the overprotective father."

"Oh, no," you groaned, already knowing where this was headed.

Shayne clasped his hands together, fixing Damien with an exaggeratedly stern look. "So, what are your intentions with her tonight?"

Damien played along, his grin widening. "To ensure she has an unforgettable practice date, sir," he replied with mock seriousness.

"Wait, are you actually going to play along with this?" you asked, rolling your eyes.

Damien shrugged, a small grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. "I mean, I can't disappoint the guy who's giving you a curfew." He shot Shayne a look. "Don't worry, I'll keep her out of trouble."

"Good answer," Shayne said with a nod, "Have her home by midnight."

"Of course," Damien said, holding back a laugh.

"And don't make me get the shotgun," Shayne added, wagging a finger for emphasis.

You rolled your eyes but couldn't help laughing. "Thanks, Dad," you said sarcastically. "Anything else before we go?"

"Just be safe," Shayne replied, crossing his arms like a concerned parent.

You smirked as you grabbed your purse, pausing in the doorway to shoot a playful glance over your shoulder. "Don't worry, Dad—we'll use protection."

Damien choked on a laugh as Shayne groaned in mock exasperation. "You're grounded!" Shayne called after you, but you were already out the door, laughing.

The drive to the restaurant was easy, the air light and comfortable. Damien tapped along to the beat of the radio, occasionally sneaking glances at you like he couldn't help himself.

"You sure you're okay with this 'practice date' thing?" you asked, breaking the silence as the cozy restaurant came into view.

He flashed you a quick grin. "Yeah, I'll power through."

His tone was casual, but the way he kept glancing over at you made it clear he wasn't just going through the motions.

The restaurant was warm and inviting, its golden lights spilling onto the sidewalk. Damien parked the car and hurried around to open your door, his hand brushing yours lightly as he helped you out.

"Ready?" he asked, his voice softer now, as if the moment needed no extra noise.

"Ready," you replied, matching his tone.

The restaurant was a cozy little place just down the street—nothing too fancy, but it had a nice, warm atmosphere. It felt like the kind of spot you could have a relaxed dinner at, and the dim lighting was perfect for the "practice date" vibe you were going for.

You walked in together, Damien holding the door open for you with a casual, gentlemanly flair.

Once seated, the waiter handed you both menus, and you immediately started scanning, trying to decide what you were in the mood for. Every time you glanced up, Damien's eyes were on you, soft and a little too intense for a casual dinner. He seemed to still be, very much in character.

"So," Damien began, breaking the comfortable silence. "What's on the menu for first-date food? Anything off-limits, or are we throwing out the rulebook?"

You smirked, glancing over the top of your menu at him. "I think we're allowed to break a few rules. I'm definitely in the mood for a burger or pizza."

Damien's grin spread, clearly entertained. "Ah, so you're a low-maintenance date, huh?"

You shrugged, leaning back in your seat. "Hey, if I'm gonna end up with a salad next week on the 'real' date, I've got to make tonight count."

For a moment, Damien's smile faltered slightly. He cleared his throat and his grin returned, but it had a touch less ease to it.

"Good point," he said, his voice steady again, though the flicker of something unreadable in his gaze lingered for just a second.

The burgers arrived, and as you took your first bite, you couldn't help but grin. The juicy patty and melted cheese were absolutely perfect. You barely noticed at first, but as you looked down at your hands, you realized the mess you'd already made.

Damien, mid-bite himself, paused to smirk at you. "How have you already made a mess?" he asked, his tone teasing as he reached for a napkin.

You gave him a mock-serious look, wiping at your chin. "What, this isn't attractive to you?"

"Oh, to me? Definitely attractive," he said with a grin, pausing mid-sentence to pluck a fry off the table where it had fallen from his plate. "But I thought we were supposed to be practicing how not to scare people off."

"Fair point," you said, leaning forward with a spark in your eyes. "We should make this more authentic." You grabbed your phone after wiping your hands on the napkin. "Let's Google some first date questions."

Damien raised an eyebrow but seemed game. "What, like those icebreaker things?"

"Yeah, exactly." You looked down at your phone, your grin widening as you started typing. "Let's make it weird."

A few seconds later, you both scrolled through a list of ridiculous questions, laughing at the absurdity of some of them.

You paused at one that caught your eye. "'Why are you single?'" you read aloud, grinning as you looked up at Damien.

He raised an eyebrow, smirking. "Wow, we're just diving straight into the existential questions, huh?"

You shrugged, feigning innocence. "Hey, it's on the list. Rules are rules. Answer the question."

Damien leaned back, pretending to think. "Maybe it's because I have this roommate who makes me do stuff like spend my Fridays spying on our friends to play cupid, binge-watching terrible movies, beating her at game nights—"

"You mean losing," you interjected, narrowing your eyes.

He ignored you, his smirk growing. "—and occasionally rescuing her from questionable bars at two in the morning."

You laughed, shaking your head. "Wow, sounds like a real waste of your Friday nights."

Damien leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table as his gaze softened just a fraction. "Absolutely not. If I could, I'd spend all my Fridays with you."

That caught you off guard, heat rising to your cheeks as you fumbled for a response. He didn't let you off the hook, though.

"Your turn," he said, his grin turning mischievous. "Why are you single?"

You blinked, caught completely off guard, before narrowing your eyes at him. "Guess I walked right into that one." With a small laugh, you leaned back in your seat, tapping your fingers on the table dramatically.. "Why am I single? Hmm, let's see. Maybe, It's because I spend my Fridays convincing my roommate that spying on our friends and setting them up is a genius idea, watching movies that are actually not that bad, absolutely crushing you at game nights—"

"That's debatable," Damien interrupted, his grin widening.

"Not even close," you shot back, giving him a playful glare as you flicked your hand dismissively. "Oh, and let's not forget, occasionally getting rescued and kissed outside questionable bars at two in the morning."

Damien raised an eyebrow, a playful accusation in his tone. "Hey, you kissed me."

You tilted your head, folding your arms as you shot him a mock-serious look. "You kissed more."

There was a brief pause, and for a second, you could see the shift in his eyes. Damien's lips twitched, but the teasing edge was softer now. "I don't remember you complaining."

The moment lingered a bit longer than usual. The air between you both felt heavier, a silent acknowledgment hanging in the space. Neither of you broke it, though. After all, it was just a kiss. Nothing to overthink.

You bit the inside of your cheek, trying to hide your smile. "Touché," you muttered, your gaze flicking away for a second before locking back with his.

Damien took the phone and scrolled for a moment. "Alright, how about this one? 'What's your favorite holiday?'"

"That's easy — Halloween," you said immediately. "Dressing up, scary movies, way too much candy. It's basically the perfect holiday. What about you?"

"Christmas," he replied without hesitation. "The food, the music, the cozy vibes... and watching you almost be brought to tears by every gift you open, and seeing Shayne absolutely destroy the wrapping paper like it personally insulted him."

You blinked, caught off guard. "Wait, me? I do not almost cry over every gift!"

Damien raised an eyebrow, smirking. "Last year, Shayne gave you a candle, and you got misty-eyed."

"It was a thoughtful candle!" you protested, laughing. "It smelled like cinnamon"

He leaned forward, grinning. "I rest my case."

You scrolled through the list of ridiculous questions, pausing as one caught your eye. Smirking, you glanced up at Damien. "What's one thing you've always wanted to try but never have?"

Damien leaned back, grinning mischievously. "Intercourse."

You raised an eyebrow, throwing him a side-eye. "You know what? I was just gonna say 'coitus,' but okay. You beat me to it."

Damien chuckled, leaning in slightly. "The touch of a woman."

You snorted, shaking your head. "An orgasm."

There was a moment where Damien's grin faltered just a bit, but only for a second before he bounced back, clearly enjoying this more than he should. "I'll say it once again, your ex is such a fucking idiot."

You stared at him, deadpan. "Yeah, well, he has no idea what he's missing."

Damien leaned back, his expression softening just a little, though the humor never fully left. "Clearly."

The conversation flowed effortlessly between playful banter and moments of genuine connection. By the time your food was nearly gone, your sides ached from laughing, and your face hurt from smiling so much.

Damien leaned back with a contented sigh, tossing his crumpled napkin onto his empty plate. "Alright," he said, a grin tugging at his lips, "I think we've officially dominated phase one. What's next on the 'practice date' itinerary?"

You glanced at the time on your phone, your smile growing. "There's that mini-golf place a few blocks from here. Classic date-night vibe, don't you think?"

"Mini-golf?" Damien raised an eyebrow, his smirk playful. "Are we leaning fully into the rom-com clichés now?"

"Absolutely," you said, shouldering your bag and heading toward the door. "What kind of practice date skips the 'teaching her how to play' moment?"

He followed you outside, holding the door open with a grin. "Wait, does this mean I'm supposed to dramatically help you hold the club while whispering unsolicited advice into your ear?"

You shrugged, pretending to think it over. "Well, I am completely terrible at mini-golf..."

"Oh, I see how it is." He chuckled, bumping your shoulder lightly as you walked down the street together. "You're setting me up to be the knight in shining armor of the putt-putt course."

"Exactly," you teased, grinning up at him. "Just be carefull where you putt-putt your hands, Sir."

By the time you reached the brightly lit course, the colorful neon signs cast a playful glow over the pavement. Damien grabbed two putters, handing one to you with a smirk. The mini-golf course was a kaleidoscope of glowing obstacles, and playful chaos. You and Damien wandered to the first hole, where a small windmill spun slowly, daring players to time their putts just right.

"Alright, let's see how terrible you actually are," he said, motioning toward the first hole.

You held the putter a little awkwardly, tilting your head as if examining the green. "Yeah, no. I have no idea what I'm doing," you said dramatically, looking up at him with wide eyes.

"Alright, let's see just how terrible you actually are," Damien said, leaning casually on his putter, a playful glint in his eyes.

You picked up your club, holding it at an exaggeratedly awkward angle as you squinted at the green like it was a riddle written in another language. "Yeah, no. I am completely clueless," you said, dragging out the words dramatically and looking up at him with an almost suspiciously innocent expression.

Damien raised an eyebrow, clearly trying to suppress a grin. "Uh-huh. Totally convincing. Do you even know which end of the putter to use?"

"Not a clue," you said with mock seriousness, twirling the club as if testing its aerodynamics. You shrugged helplessly. "Guess you'll have to come over here and show me, Sir.

Damien's grin widened, and he stepped closer, reaching for the club. "Alright, guess we're really doing this. Don't worry—I've got you, princess."

He reached for the putter, and you dramatically stepped back, giving him the floor. "I'll just be over here, watching the expert in action."

Damien squatted next to the ball, squinting at the course like it was a puzzle he needed to solve. "Okay, clearly this is a precision game. The angle's important. The spin of the windmill—critical."

You clasped your hands together dramatically, putting on your best wide-eyed look. "Oh no, that sounds so complicated! However will I figure this out?"

Damien glanced up at you, a knowing smirk tugging at his lips. "Don't worry, I've got you. You're in good hands."

"Thank goodness," you said with a faux-swoon, clutching your putter like it was a lifeline. "I'd be lost without your guidance."

"Obviously," he replied, standing and lining up his shot with all the confidence in the world. "Just watch and learn, helpless damsel."

With a theatrical flourish, he swung. The ball pinged off the windmill blade, ricocheted off the barrier, and rolled right back to where it started.

You gasped, covering your mouth with mock horror. "Oh no, my hero has failed! I guess I'm of to die."

Damien turned to you, one eyebrow raised. "No, no..Okay, that was a fluke. I'll redeem myself later. For now, let's see you try."

You stepped up to the ball, gripping the putter with deliberate awkwardness. "Oh no, I don't even know how to hold this thing," you said, tilting your head as though deeply confused. "Is this right?"

He chuckled, crossing his arms. "You're not even trying to be subtle, are you?"

"Subtle?" You blinked up at him innocently. "I have no idea what you mean."

Damien sighed, shaking his head as he moved to stand behind you. "Alright, let's do this then."

You bit back a grin as he stepped closer, his chest brushing lightly against your back. His hands hovered over yours on the putter, and though the atmosphere was still lighthearted, something about the closeness felt... different.

His voice dropped, deliberately serious, but you both knew it was all part of the joke. "Alright, hold it like this. Relax your grip just a little."

You shifted slightly, leaning back just enough so you could feel the warmth of his body behind you. "Like this?" you asked, your tone intentionally soft and teasing, though it came out with an edge you didn't quite expect.

He let out a quiet laugh, the sound low and a little warmer than usual. "Perfect. Now, it's all about the angle. You've got to aim just right to make it through the windmill."

You tilted your head back, trying to keep the joke alive but feeling something else building in the space between you. "I'm so glad you're here," you said, your voice coming out quieter than you meant. "I'd never figure this out on my own."

"I'm sure you wouldn't," he teased, his breath brushing against your ear as he guided your hands in a slow practice swing. His touch lingered just for a second, and for a brief moment, you felt  a small shift—the playful banter suddenly felt... softer.

The sound of the windmill spinning faded into the background, and neither of you said anything for a beat, the moment hanging between you. It was still a joke, still light, but now it felt like something... else too.

Finally, he stepped back, a wide grin spreading across his face, but there was a flicker in his eyes that wasn't quite as playful as before. "Alright, now let's see you put all that expert coaching to use."

You swallowed, trying to shake off the unexpected warmth that lingered, before stepping forward to take your shot

You swung, and the ball sailed smoothly through the windmill's opening and dropped into the hole.

"Hole in one!" Damien exclaimed, throwing his arms up. "Looks like I'm an incredible teacher."

"Oh, absolutely," you replied, spinning around with a cheeky smile. "It was all your doing. I had nothing to do with it."

"Glad we're on the same page," he teased, stepping closer. "But honestly, do you think that move would actually work on someone?"

You tilted your head, pretending to think. "Hmm, I don't know. It's cute, but it kind of depends on the guy."

"Oh, so it's about the guy, huh?" he asked, leaning on his putter.

"Absolutely," you replied, smirking. "With the wrong person, it's just awkward. But I'll give you a solid eight out of ten."

"Eight?" Damien gasped, clutching his chest. "Harsh."

You shrugged, grinning. "Well, it would be higher if you actually made your shot."

As you moved to the next obstacle, the air between you felt lighter but charged, both of you leaning just enough into the moment to make it fun—but maybe just a little too real.

The game continued in the same playful rhythm, with you both making exaggerated comments and missing shots on purpose. By the time you reached the final hole, you couldn't help but feel the day slipping by too quickly, the light starting to fade around you.

Damien lined up for his final shot, giving the rotating loop-de-loop ahead of him a look of determination. "Alright, last one. If I make this, I win, and I get eternal bragging rights."

You crossed your arms, watching him with a smirk. "Eternal? Big words for someone who got stuck on the pirate ship obstacle for five minutes."

"Hey, that was strategy," he shot back, his tone playful. He took the shot—and, of course, missed it by a mile, sending the ball straight into a bush beside the hole.

You doubled over, laughing. "Oh, sure, strategy," you teased, shaking your head.

Damien laughed along with you, stepping up to take another shot. "Alright, fine. You win this one." His eyes lingering on you, the joke fading for just a moment, but he quickly returned to his playful grin. "So.. what do you want?."

"What do I want?" you asked, raising an eyebrow. The idea of wanting anything in this moment... it was too much. It'd be easier if all you wanted was... "You... you decide."

As you stepped out of the mini-golf course, the warm glow of the evening lights lit up the street. The buzz of the city felt softer now, a gentle hum that accompanied the easy rhythm of your footsteps alongside Damien's.

Damien tilted his head as if deep in thought. "Alright. Hear me out—mandatory dessert stop." He gestured ahead, where a quaint little ice cream stand with a glowing neon sign came into view.

You grinned. "So you're on board with this whole rom-com date aesthetic now, are you?"

"Hey," he shot back with a playful shrug. "everyone knows dessert is a non-negotiable part of any good date."

As you approached the stand, the sugary scent of waffle cones wafted through the air, making your stomach rumble despite the burger-filled dinner. You both scanned the menu, debating over flavors until Damien pointed at you with a grin.

"You're totally the type to get something classic like chocolate or vanilla, huh?"

"Oh, bold of you to assume," you retorted, stepping up to the counter. "One butter pecan, please."

Damien raised an eyebrow, clearly impressed. "Okay, not bad. I'll take pistachio ," he told the cashier before adding, "and a waffle cone. Because I'm fancy."

The two of you found a small bench nearby, the cool breeze brushing past as you both dug into your treats. You reached over pointing at Damien's cone. "Let me try yours."

"Only if I get a bite of yours," he countered, holding his cone out toward you.

You both swapped bites, laughing as a smear of ice cream caught on the corner of your mouth. Damien leaned in, his thumb brushing your lower lip to wipe it away, the contact sending a small jolt of warmth through you

The air between you shifted slightly again, a moment of unspoken acknowledgment passing before you both turned back to your desserts, the spell broken by a passing couple's chatter.

"Okay," Damien said, clearing his throat and holding up his cone dramatically. "I'm declaring this the superior flavor."

"Debatable," you teased, holding up your butter pecan for emphasis. "But we can agree dessert was definitely mandatory."

He nodded, his smile easy and warm. "Mandatory. And pretty perfect."

Your hand brushed his lightly as you reached for a napkin at the same time, and while neither of you commented on it, the small touch lingered in your mind. There were plenty of moments that seemed to linger there as of late. The warm summer air buzzed with quiet chatter and the occasional laughter of passersby as you and Damien strolled down the boardwalk, each armed with a melting ice cream cone.

"Okay, serious question," Damien says, breaking the silence. "What's your go-to strategy when the cone starts to drip faster than you can eat it?"

"Panic," you answer without hesitation, licking a rogue drop threatening to run down your hand. "Pure, unfiltered panic."

He chuckles, tilting his own cone to inspect the damage. "Solid strategy. I just embrace the chaos. Let it happen. Ice cream stains build character."

As you walk, something catches your eye—a brightly lit photo booth tucked into the corner of the boardwalk. You nudge Damien with your elbow, pointing at it. "Hey, you know what every fake first date needs?"

He follows your gaze, smirking when he spots the booth. "A wildly overpriced strip of awkwardly timed photos?"

"Exactly," you reply, already tugging him toward it. "Come on, it'll be perfect. You can't beat the classics."

With a playful groan, Damien follows your lead, tossing the last bite of his cone into a nearby trash bin. "Alright, but we're doing this by the book. What's the official photo booth itinerary?"

You smirk, stepping inside and motioning for him to follow. "Oh, you don't know? Amateur move, Haas. The first one's always silly."

He slides in next to you, shoulders brushing as he adjusts to fit in the tight space. "Silly, huh? Okay, no pressure. Got your best funny face ready?"

The countdown starts, and you both pull the most exaggerated, ridiculous expressions you can muster. The camera flashes, and you burst into laughter, your head tipping slightly toward his shoulder as you both review your handiwork on the screen.

"Solid start," Damien says, nodding approvingly. "What's next?"

"Obviously, cutesy," you reply with faux authority. "Think... puppy eyes and head tilts. Something you'd find in a cringey rom-com."

"Got it," Damien says, leaning a little closer and resting his chin on his hand, batting his lashes in mock adoration. You stifle a laugh but can't help mirroring his pose. The flash captures the two of you in a picture-perfect moment of over-the-top sweetness.

You're still giggling when the third countdown begins. Damien tilts his head, his voice softening just a bit. "What about this one? What's the third photo rule?"

"Hmm..." you say, your voice quieter now. "The third one's where it gets... closer."

Damien arches a brow but doesn't pull back as you both shuffle even closer together, your knees now pressed against his. "Closer, huh? That's an awfully specific rule," he murmurs, his tone teasing but his eyes warm.

The flash catches you mid-laugh, his gaze flicking briefly to your lips as you both shift slightly in the cramped space.

And then the countdown starts.

"What's the last photos for?" Damien asks, voice softer still, as if the moment doesn't really need an answer.

For a beat, neither of you speaks. You lean in slightly, the air between you feeling suddenly charged. He mirrors the movement, his hand brushing your arm as he adjusts to face you fully.

"Probably the dramatic almost-kiss," you whisper, lips curling into a faint smile.

"Obviously," Damien replies, his breath catching slightly as his eyes flicker to yours.

The flash interrupts just as your noses nearly touch, the sudden burst of light pulling you both back into laughter.

The air grows still as the seconds tick down. Neither of you says anything, and you find yourself leaning in again, your eyes flickering to his lips. He mirrors the movement, his breath warm against your cheek.

The flash interrupts, but this time, you both stay like that for a moment.

"Well," Damien finally says, clearing his throat and leaning back. "That was... very dramatic."

As you step out of the photo booth, you reach for the photo strips, eager to see how they turned out. Before you can grab them, Damien snatches them out of your reach, his grin widening as he tucks the strip into the inner pocket of his jacket.

You raise an eyebrow, half amused, half incredulous. "Seriously? You're keeping them?"

"These are mine now," he says, his grin not quite matching the playful teasing in his tone. He pats his pocket like it's a treasure chest, and you feel a small flutter in your chest at the sudden possessiveness in his gesture.

You cross your arms, hugging them tightly around yourself to ward off the evening chill. "Possessive much?"

He shrugs nonchalantly, but there's a glint of something warm in his eyes. "Call it a souvenir," he teases, as if it's nothing more than a casual, playful act. Then, before you can protest, he pulls off his jacket and drapes it over your shoulders, the fabric smelling faintly of him, warm and familiar.

You glance at him sideways, eyebrows raised. "Classic first-date move. Smooth."

"What can I say? I'm a natural," he quips, hands sliding casually into his pockets.

You tug the jacket tighter around you, the fabric warm against the cool night air. As you continue down the boardwalk, your gaze drifts to the distant Ferris wheel, its lights casting a soft glow that twinkles like stars against the dark sky. The wheel turns slowly, almost hypnotically, and you feel the pull of it, the quiet, gentle allure of the night wrapping around you both.

"Now that," you say, nudging Damien's arm, "is how you top off a practice date."

He follows your gaze and smirks. "The Ferris wheel? That might be too cliché."

"Don't knock it," you retort, pulling him toward the line. "No fake date is complete without one."

Within minutes, you're seated in one of the gondolas, the air noticeably cooler as you rise above the noise of the boardwalk. The city sprawls beneath you, a tapestry of lights glittering against the dark water.

He leans back against the seat, a playful smirk on his face. "Okay, so what's the one thing missing? You know, to make this a perfect first date."

You pause, pretending to think. "Hmm, maybe... flowers? A cheesy playlist? Oh, I know—a ridiculous grand gesture. Like someone running after me in the rain with a boombox or something."

He laughs, the sound soft but warm. "I don't think I can make the rain fall but.. I respect it."

"That's disappointing," you reply, grinning. "So.. what's your take? What would make this perfect?"

He tilts his head, considering. "Honestly? I think we're pretty close already. Maybe if..." He hesitates, his eyes flickering toward yours briefly, the words hanging between you both. "Never mind.

"No, no," you press, leaning forward. "You can't just stop there."

Damien shrugs, but there's something unreadable in his expression. "I was just going to say that if it was like.. a real first date.. probably a kiss?"

The words land, and for a moment, you both freeze. You glance out at the skyline, the quiet stretching between you. The weight of his words lingers in the air, and you feel something tighten in your chest.

"Well, that would make sense," you finally say, your voice light but shaky, "for a real date"

"Right," he says quietly, his gaze lingering on you a moment longer before turning to the view.

As the Ferris wheel pauses at its peak, the gondola sways gently. You both fall silent, letting the moment stretch out, the weight of his jacket over your shoulders and the warmth of his presence beside you making it feel.. like really good practice for the real date next friday.

[egoistnana]

SOME OF YOUR LOVE

;; in which yn’s famous friends introduce her to long time crush itoshi rin! 🪽💌🥂

itoshi rin x f!reader ;; 🪄🐆🫀🌟 ;; masterlist ;; prev ;; next

warnings: will be slightly suggestives at points, all characters are aged up and most characters may or will be ooc.

2; friendsgiving

of course you had to wear something at least somewhat skimpy if you were gonna see rin for the first time tonight. you didn’t know if this was gonna be your first and last time seeing so you needed to make somewhat of a impression.

you finished touching up your makeup and hair once the clock hit 8:30. you double checked yourself in mirror. you had to admit that you looked good and hoped rin would think the same.

you heard your phone chime and knew it was karasu saying he was at your house. you walked out your door after getting your purse and placing your lipgloss in there. you felt the cold breeze and immediately regretted not bringing a jacket to prove your point of looking good.

“someone’s cold” karasu scoffed while getting out the car to open your door.

“what a gentleman karasu” you said before hugging him.

“whatever man just get in” he said while returning the hug.

you smiled at him while pulling away and got into the passenger seat. karasu closed the door and walked back to the drivers seat.

“how longs the drive” you asked while connecting to aux.

“15 minutes” karasu said while looking through the back window and placing his right hand behind your seat.

you quietly put on some music while conversing with karasu.

“you excited to see rin? i mean hell- you can definitely tell” he said while looking down at you and your dress.

“just wanna make a good impression” you replied while shrugging.

karasu looked at you before looking back at the console to follow the gps directions. once you pulled up to bachiras house you took out your phone from your purse to open the camera app. you reapplied your lipgloss while karasu touched up his hair.

“okay let’s go” you said after smacking your lips.

karasu got out the car first and once again opened your door.

“okay seriously what’s with opening my doors” you said while getting out and straightening out your posture and dress.

“gotta let the ladies know im a good man” he said while grabbing your purse and closing the door. he handed you your purse and you took it into your hands.

“they’re gonna think we’re dating karasu” you scoffed while walking up to bachiras house.

“they always do” karasu sighed.

you two walked up the stairs and karasu knocked. while being greeted at the door by bachira karasu put his hand on your lower back though bachira wasn’t the only one who saw that. bachira pulled you into a deep and warm hug.

“im so glad you could come yn! you look so good” bachira said while smiling.

“thank you bachira you don’t look so bad yourself” you giggled while you both pulled away.

bachira greeted karasu and welcomed you both into his house. it was very nice and spacious. you spotted reo with nagi and chigiri with kunigami and what seemed to be rin. you felt yourself tense up once you noticed he looked over to your way after chigiri called your name.

“yn!” chigiri said as you walked over to him.

“hi chigiri, hi kunigumi” you said while giving them both a hug.

“oh- uh hi im yn” you said while looking up to rin.

“im rin” he said in a monotone voice but even then it made you feel something.

“nice to meet you” you said while smiling up at him.

“you as well” he said leaning back on the counter.

“hey dude” you heard karasu say to rin.

rin waved at him slightly before drifting his attention back to you. you didn’t notice since you turned your back to face him while talking to nagi and reo. they both had cups in their hands and you knew they were already drinking.

“you want some?” isagi offered you some while holding a cup towards you.

“no sorry i don’t drink thank you though” you politely declined as he put the cup back on the counter.

something about that made rin more intrigued in you. that and the fact that you were one of the few girls there.

rin had moved past you and sat down at the table next to chigiri and kunigami. the two were talking about irrelevant things that didn’t matter to rin. he looked at his phone before looking back at you. you were talking to karasu while playfully pushing him. with that he immediately assumed the two of you were either dating or talking. the playful banter and you two coming in together made it set in stone in rins mind. he didn’t care though. right?

a few minutes pass and everyone was sitting down at the table but you. you were in the bathroom and by the time you came out everyone was talking and eating. fortunately the only open seat was next to rin. you walk over to the chair.

“is someone sitting here?” you asked while one hand tapped his shoulder and the other pointing at the chair.

“no” he said while turning over to face you.

“okay” you replied while smiling at him and sitting down.

“you aren’t gonna eat?” he asked when noticing you were the only person without a plate.

you shook your head.

“im not hungry i ate beforehand” you said while playing with the rings on your fingers.

he hummed in response while looking at you picking at your rings and nails. he noticed your medium length dark red nails and your jewelry.

isagi and some other boys were asking rin questions about his life and only one certain question made your ears perk.

“do you a girlfriend?” you heard a girly voice ask.

“no and i’m not interested in one” rin said while not looking at the girl but at his phone.

a part of you felt relieved he rejected the girl but the other part of you felt upset since he wasn’t looking for one.

the girl scoffed silently and walked by to the counter to get a drink after that.

a few hours past and a lot of the boys were either tipsy or drunk. karasu sat next to you and rin and sighed.

“im gonna have to drive them home” karasu complained while throwing his head back and rubbing his face.

kunigami dragged karasu to get up after that leaving you and rin completely alone at the table since the rest were in the living room.

the silence was slightly awkward since you two didn’t know each other.

“you don’t drink?” you said after gulping and building up the courage to talk to him.

“no never really liked the taste or the idea of it” he replied while looking beside you.

“what about you?”

“me neither, i’ve never tried it though” you replied while nodding slightly.

after a while of silence and the both of you on your phones rin got up to use the bathroom.

karasu dragged you to get up with him.

“where’s your sweet rin?” he laughed.

you sighed and shrugged. you sat down in the living room with otoya and karasu.

“i haven’t seen you in forever yn” otoya said while giving you a side hug.

“i know karasu has been hiding you from me” you said while returning the hug.

while catching up with otoya you noticed rin come into the living room and smile at him due to the both of you locking eyes.

he gave you a small smile in return and sat next to a boy with light blue hair.

“i think that’s the last guy you would ever want to get with” otoya said before drinking out of his cup”

“what why? i don’t even wanna hear it from you you’re the biggest slut ever” you said while rolling your eyes.

“i’ve been telling her that” karasu chimed in.

“celibate final boss- not even celibate he’s just girlfriend prone, always throwing away his chances with baddies to focus on soccer” otoya said while placing his cup down.

“thats never stopped anyone though” you replied.

“it should stop you” karasu said annoyed.

after a few more hours the clock hit 1:45 am you, karasu and a few others he was taking home said your goodbyes to everyone.

“leaving without his number” karasu said while walking out bachiras house.

“shit you’re right” you responded. in panic you went back into the house and looked for rin. when you spot him saying bye to bachira you came up to him waiting for him to finish up.

“yeah?” rin said looking down at you noticing you went up to him.

“could i get your number?” you asked while batting your eyelashes at him unintentionally and holding out your phone slightly.

rin looked at you seriously and took your phone. typing in his number his other hand ran through his hair.

“thank you- bye!” you said hurriedly while leaving quickly to go back to karasu.

at the end of the night you succeed talking to rin and getting his number.

authors note!

LOOONGG CHAP. im keeping u lovelies fed 🥰🥰

[jerzwriter]

Thank you to @snoopdogcone for this prompt for @choicesprompts Angstgiving event. The prompt is highlighted in the text below.

Book: Open Heart (Book 2) Pairing: Ethan Ramsey x Casey MacTavish (F!MC) Rating: Teen Words: 3,363 Summary: Ethan's back from his mission in the Amazon rainforest, and it's time to face the wreckage he left behind.

A/N: Please note, this story is not part of my Ethan x Kaycee headcanon; it's part of my Casey MacTavish world where they are not end game.

@choicesmonthlychallengenov2024 - apology, regret

Casey was laser-focused on her task as she meandered through the packed maze of tables in Donahue’s beer garden. Nothing was going to come between her and her friends celebrating tonight’s victory properly, and securing a table was part of that goal. The place was packed, abuzz with the vibrant energy that seemed to define Boston during the final days of summer when the warm nights carried just a hint of the autumn breeze that would soon usher star-filled nights like this away. It seemed everyone had the same idea as they tried to soak in every last minute.

In the midst of clinking glasses, laughter, and the hum of dozens of conversations, Casey finally claimed victory. She flashed a bright smile when she spotted an empty table, waving furiously at her friends to join her. “Hurry up!! Hurry!” she beamed. “It’s almost time!”

Everyone quickly assembled, slipping onto the benches with their drinks in hand; the excitement was palpable. “Should we do a countdown first?” Elijah asked.

“Too late for that!” Casey replied. “It’s midnight!!”

 “Yeah! We made it!” Elijah howled with a raised glass. “Intern year is officially over!”

“And I say good freaking riddance!” Jackie chimed in. “We made it, and we did it with our medical licenses intact to boot!”

“Jackie!” Sienna frowned. “Don’t even joke about that! I was so scared Casey was going to have to leave Edenbrook! That’s one part of the intern year I want to forget!”

“I wouldn’t mind forgetting that part either,” Casey agreed. “But despite the low moments, I’ll still look back fondly on this year. After all, it’s when I met all of you!”

“Awww,” Sienna smiled, giving her friend a quick squeeze.

But Jackie wasn’t as moved. “How many of those have you had?” She laughed, motioning toward Casey’s empty glass.

Casey affectionately embraced her mortified friend. “Just enough to spill my emotions all over this table!”

Bryce arrived at the table and claimed the seat next to Casey, wrapping his arm around her waist as soon as he placed a fresh round of drinks on the table. “Well, it that’s where you are now, I’ll have you dancing when you finish this one.”

“As if getting me to dance is a struggle!” Casey chuckled. “But this is my last drink. I have a big day ahead!”

“Sure, rub it in!” Jackie smirked. “Now I can admit that part of me was hoping you’d lose your license because I would have swooped right in and taken your spot on the diagnostic team!”

“Not if I got to it first,” Elijah laughed, but his bright smile faltered when he glanced over Casey’s shoulder. “Speaking of the diagnostic team...” He nodded toward the entrance, and everyone’s heads turned.

Sienna looked like she saw a ghost. “Oh my gosh! He’s back!”

While her response may have been a bit dramatic for Sienna, it didn’t begin to express the turmoil stirring in Casey. The average person wouldn’t have noticed; she did her best to remain composed even as her body went rigid and her heart pounded in her chest. After two long months of absence, Ethan Ramsey was back, walking toward them like it was any other day, as if he hadn’t ripped Casey’s heart out just months before.

“He looks... different,” Sienna observed.

“Well, two months fighting an outbreak in the Amazon will do that to a person,” Jackie replied. Her eyes flickered in his direction, attempting to warn Casey that he was near.

But it was too late. He was already standing beside her, nodding a polite greeting to all, before his blue eyes locked on Casey’s for the first time since he had promised her they’d find a way to work things out.

“Rookie...” he stated, his expression unreadable.

If his presence flustered Casey, she hid it well. “You’re a bit too late for that, Dr. Ramsey,” she replied with a bravado she didn’t know she had. “As of sixty seconds ago, I’m not a rookie anymore. I’m officially a resident now.”

“Is that so?” he replied with a hint of a smile. “Then I take it you won’t be making any more rookie mistakes.”

“Well, I’m not sure about that,” she shrugged as her irritation began to crack her unaffected veneer. “If I’ve learned anything recently, it’s that everyone makes mistakes, world-renowned attendings included.”

The table went silent, the friends exchanging nervous looks as Sienna bit her lip. But if they were surprised by her candor, Ethan was not; it was one of the things he had come to admire in her. Clearing his throat, he replied calmly.

“I see,” he mumbled. “Well, I’ll let you and your friends get back to celebrating.”

A hush fell over the table when he turned and made his way toward the bar. Casey’s eyes followed him as her friends remained in a state of shock. Jackie was the first to break the silence. “Well, that wasn’t awkward or anything.”

Bryce tightened his grip around Casey. He knew this had to impact her more than anyone. After all, he was the one who had sat beside her night after night, listening to her cry and wiping away the tears that never seemed to stop. “Hey, are you OK?” He whispered.

Casey looked at him with a forced smile and patted his knee. “Yeah. I’m... fine.”

Sensing her friend’s discomfort, Sienna quickly steered the conversation, and the friends continued chatting as if nothing happened. But Casey couldn’t forget. Her eyes kept wandering back to the bar where Ethan sat in his usual spot – a seat so synonymous with him that it had remained conspicuously empty during his absence.

His expression was distant, and there was a heaviness to him that wasn’t there before. Even Reggie’s lively banter didn’t seem to impact his mood. He looked older... tired, as though the mission had taken more from him than anyone knew. That’s what Casey assumed it was as she looked his way. She may have been a brilliant diagnostician, but right now, her assessment couldn’t have been further from the truth. 

The night went on, and before they knew it, Reggie’s voice rang out. “Alright people! Last call. You ain’t gotta go home, but you can’t stay here!”

“Already?” Casey groaned, her voice tightening. “No! It just hit me... I’m starting on the diagnostic team tomorrow!”

“Rub it in, why don’t you?” Elijah laughed as Bryce offered Casey words of reassurance. 

“Well, I’m not starting on the diagnostic team, but I still need some sustenance to get through,” Jackie announced. “You guys want to hit the diner on the way home?”

“Why don’t you go ahead,” Casey replied. “I think I’m going stay behind and touch base with Ethan about tomorrow.”

She stepped inside the bar cautiously, so quiet that Ethan didn’t notice her until she took the stool beside him. “So... that last call thing doesn’t apply to you, huh?” she asked.

He turned to her, his eyes heavy with emotion, though his voice remained light. “Reggie and I go way back. We have... an arrangement.”

“An arrangement?” She half-laughed, her arm crossed protectively before her. “Is that what most people would call friendship?”

“I don’t have friends, Casey,” he stated flatly before downing the remains of his drink. “But I wouldn’t mind you joining me if you’re so inclined.”

Casey sat in stunned silence. She had pictured the moment when he would return in her head all summer long. Through the heartbreak and tears, she had practiced the words she planned to say like a mantra. She had perfected them. Each word a unique piece of ammunition designed to pierce his heart the way his silent departure had shattered hers. She had dreamed about finally having the chance to unleash her fury. Letting him know just how much damage he had done, but now, sitting beside him, the words that were in her heart and mind refused to travel to her lips.

With an inaudible sigh, she diverted her eyes. “Sure,” was all she could manage to say.

Ethan nodded with a look of both relief and fear in his eyes. He reached over the bar and grabbed a half-empty bottle of the bar’s finest Scotch and two glasses. “Hey, Reggie,” he yelled. “We’re going to borrow this.”

“Why don’t we take this outside?” He said. “Winter will be here before you know it; we might as well enjoy it while we can.”

“Sure,” she said again, angry at herself for her inability to say more. He hurt so badly and ran off to avoid the fallout left in its wake. He deserved to hear them. Yet, here she was, rendered silent, following him like a loyal pet shadowing its master.

They settled into two chairs beside the fire pit, its flickering light casting a warm glow between them. Ethan poured two drinks, handing one to Casey. When his fingers brushed hers, the simple touch sent a jolt through both of them. Casey wanted to down her drink in one gulp. But, if she wanted to be sober for this conversation, a sip would have to do.

“You look great,” he said with a tentative smile.

“Thank you. You look... different,” she replied, taking him in.

“Different?” he asked, his smile morphing into a full grin. “Different good, or different bad?”

“Just... different.”

“Well,” he admitted with a faint chuckle. “I’ve been through quite a bit.”

“I’m sure,” she said, swirling her glass nervously. “We all have. But, it was brave of you to go on that mission.”

Ethan choked on his drink, reflecting silently for a moment. “That... that wasn’t bravery, Casey.”

The look in his eyes launched a swell of emotions in Casey: anger, sympathy, fear, pain, and mingled with something else - something she thought she already buried. No wonder she couldn’t lash out at him. She didn’t want to feel it; she didn’t want it to be there, but love was never something Casey MacTavish let go of easily. At that moment she knew, despite the anger and hurt, she knew the truth: she couldn’t pull the trigger on him if she tried.

Eventually, the reality of the situation hit her like a wave. After all this time, he was here – sitting in front of her - and she deserved answers. Her voice shook as she spoke, each word filled with pain she had been carrying.

“You left,” she said, her voice barely a whisper. “You left without telling me. Ethan, you didn’t say a single word.”

His expression crumbled, the weight of her accusation hitting him. He knew this confrontation was inevitable, but that did nothing to lessen its sting. Leaning forward, he braced himself; it was time to face the reckoning he always knew would come.

“Casey,” he started, his voice filled with regret. “I have no excuse to offer. I was... a coward. I didn’t know what to do, so I ran... I had to. I knew that if I saw you... if we had talked...I...” His words trailed as he turned away, unable to face the look in her eyes.

“If you came to me, you knew I wouldn’t have let you go with so much unresolved between us,” she replied. “I would have supported your choice if you wanted to go, but I wouldn’t let you use it as an excuse. I wouldn’t have let you run away. You would have had to face things... face me.”

“Yes,” he smiled sadly, “and that’s why I just... left.”

His words felt like a slap on the face. Insult added to injury. Casey was done shielding him from the damage his actions had caused. It was time for him to see it all. A bitter laugh escaped her, echoing through the empty space.

“Yes!” She shot back, her body trembling and her voice filled with rage. “You just... left. Left me! I stood in a conference room with all the other interns when Naveen announced your departure. I got to hear it like I was just anyone else... like I meant absolutely nothing to you!” She shook her head, eyes burning. “You told me we’d figure things out! You insisted we’d find a way to make it work, and I believed you! Then you were just... gone, without so much as a goodbye! Do you have any idea how much that hurt me, Ethan?”

“Casey, I’m sorry,” he repeated, his voice and eyes filled with regret. “I know that was wrong. There is no excuse I can offer to make it right.”

“You knew it was wrong?” she seethed. “You knew! But then you remained silent the whole time you were gone? Two months, Ethan. Two whole months! I left you dozens of voicemails... I stopped counting how many texts I sent! Did you even listen to them? Did you hear the pain in my voice and choose to ignore me? Or did they mean so little that you just deleted them without a second thought?”

“Casey, don’t say that,” he pleaded. “Nothing you say could ever be meaningless to me.”

“Then why?” she demanded, her voice breaking as she fought back tears. “Why didn’t you contact me? You reached out to Naveen. You reached out to Harper. But me? Nothing!” She took a trembling breath. “You just ghosted me... after everything we’ve been through?”

“It’s precisely because of everything we’ve been through that I didn’t contact you,” he replied. “You know the stakes, Casey! We’re going to be working together - you’re reporting to me. Your professional development and reputation... they’re too important. You’ve worked too hard to get where you are to let it all blow up because of me. I couldn’t let whatever we had between us put you at risk.”

 “Whatever we had...” she snickered. “Past tense?”

“Yes,” he said firmly. “And the past is where it needs to stay.”

Casey felt the resolve that his presence had softened returning to life inside her. It was all coming together: the sleepless nights, the heartache, hearing the whispers in Edenbrook’s halls, enduring the pitiful stares, the loneliness she felt as she picked up the shattered pieces of herself one by one without so much as a word from the man who had caused it. He owed her... he owed her better than this. She steadied herself before speaking again, her voice defiant.

“Oh, don’t worry about that,” she scoffed. “The past is exactly where it will remain. But do me one favor,” she asked, her vulnerability peeking through once more. “Admit what it was that we’re losing. Tell me what “it” was, Ethan! Can you at least give me that?”

He leaned back, an exasperating sigh escaping him as he focused on the bright stars sparking in the dark sky. “Casey,” he murmured, trying to find the words. “What do you want me to say?”

“The truth!” she yelled. “I want you to tell me the truth! You shattered my heart, Ethan, and left me to cope with it alone. If you ever cared for me at all,  then at least have the decency to admit what it was. Don’t leave me believing I was just some... mistake... tell me! Did you... did you ever love me at all?”

Ethan turned to her, his eyes filled with a sadness he couldn’t bring himself to admit. Gently raising a hand, he tilted her chin toward him, relishing the feel of her skin against his, knowing in his heart that he’d never touch her like this again.

She couldn’t see his internal battle - a battle between the part of him that knew she deserved the truth and the part that needed to protect her... protect himself. She deserved to know that she wasn’t the only one who had spent the summer heartbroken. She deserved to know about the dozens of letters he penned, each one confessing the feelings he couldn’t bring himself to say aloud – letters he knew he’d never send.

But what if he told her? Knowing Casey, she’d forgive him and do everything in her power to make them work, even if it meant sacrificing herself. Would she quit the diagnostic team? Leave Edenbrook? Go to a lesser program? Knowing her, she just might. She’d fought tooth and nail to get to this place in her career, and he couldn’t... he wouldn’t let her sacrifice it, not for him, and not for something as fleeting as love.

“Casey,” he finally said, his voice shaking. “Love is nothing more than proximity paired with a rush of neurochemical responses triggered by heightened stress.”

She pushed his hand away, his words cutting deeper than a knife ever could. The memory of the first time he said those words to her came rushing back. At that time, she thought it was just his cynicism talking. It was almost comical. But now? After all, they had been through... he still believed that? Had their time together taught him... nothing.

She took a deep breath as she rose to her feet; this was it, this was the end, and she could feel the sadness giving way to relief.

“Maybe that’s all love is to you,” she replied. “But that’s not all it is to me. I spent the past couple of months so hurt, so angry at you, but right now... all I can feel for you is pity. You want a reset? Ethan... there’s nothing to reset. We were over the day you stepped on that plane. I know my worth, Ethan, and I deserve so much better than this.”

She let the words hang in the air for a moment, then, standing tall, she met his eyes. “I’ll see you at work tomorrow, Dr. Ramsey. I look forward to working with you this year.”

And just like that, she was his colleague and nothing more. He watched her go, her silhouette framed in the soft light of the doorway, and his chest ached with the overwhelming urge to stop her, to say something, anything to pull her back. But as the door clicked shut behind her, he sank back into his chair, knowing she was right. This was the end. They were over.

He closed his eyes for a long moment, the weight of regret crushing his soul. With a deep breath, he reached into the pocket of his leather jacket and pulled a weathered piece of paper, the latest in a long line of the unsent letters he wrote, and his eyes skimmed over the closing lines:

You’ll never know how much you’ve changed me, Casey. If only I had the courage to be a better man. You deserve someone who will meet you in the light instead of hiding in the shadows. I wanted to be that man for you, I did, but it’s not in me. I’ll always carry you in my heart, even though I have to let you go. I love you, Casey. Always -  Ethan.”

The paper shook in his trembling hands as he watched the flames dancing. Then, with a sharp exhale, he tossed it into the fire, watching as the edges curled and blackened before his words disintegrating into ash.

It was over. This chapter was closed.

@choicesficwriterscreations @choicesprompts @choicesmonthlychallengenov2024 @openheartfanfics

Tagging others separately.

[flutt3rb4tz]

every time i see the word "delulu" i cringe so hard its like hooooly fuck those ppl would hate me and my "everyone can read my mind im always being watched/theres bugs crawling on me all the time/someones going to kill me" bullshit LOLLLL

[trashbaget]

tell me your failed/embarrassing flirting stories to make me feel better, i’ll go first: today i said “get out of my way” forgot to say “i’m kidding” then immediately said “bye”

[chosok-amo]

THE CLOWN HAS BEEN FOUND s. gojo

★ sum. the baggy clothes, the glasses, the book, the brain— sum : a nerd, that’s what you are. a center of attention, but not because of how beautiful and popular and everyone wants to date you— no, but because you are a loser. and the popular boys have a bet who’s get to sleep with you first and pop the cherry.

warning. college au, ōral ( m & f receiving ), fingēring, dirty talk, hair-pulling, bit name-calling, petnames, praise, cherry pop mentioned, unprotected sēx.

the four of them—geto, gojo, toji, and sukuna—sat sprawled out under the big willow tree on campus, a prime spot they’d claimed as their own. the tree’s branches hung low, providing shade from the afternoon sun, and it seemed to be the perfect place for them to lounge around, their laughter and conversation echoing through the quiet space. they were the popular boys on campus, infamous for their looks, athleticism, and wealth, and equally notorious for their cocky, careless attitudes—a magnetic combination that somehow made them both admired and hated.

they were deep in some joke, laughing obnoxiously, when toji’s gaze drifted, his laughter fading as his eyes settled on something—or rather, someone—in the distance. his smirk widened as he cocked his chin in your direction, his eyes glinting with mischief.

“look at her,” toji muttered, loud enough for the others to hear. the way he said it held a certain bite, like he’d just stumbled upon something amusing.

the other three followed his gaze, their eyes landing on you, sitting off to the side with a thick textbook open in your lap. you were tucked into yourself, shoulders hunched slightly, completely absorbed in whatever you were reading. your clothes were baggy, drowning your frame in layers that did little to give away any shape. the oversized hoodie practically swallowed you, sleeves pulled down almost to your fingertips. your glasses kept sliding down your nose, and every now and then, you’d push them back up absently, clearly too lost in your book to notice much else.

“oh, the classic nerd look,” sukuna sneered, his eyes narrowing as he looked you over, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “cute,” he added mockingly, though there was a glint in his eyes that suggested he found the whole thing entertaining.

gojo let out a low snort, shaking his head as he took a long drag from his cigarette, smoke curling around him in lazy spirals. he leaned forward, one arm bracing against the grass. his eyes still on you, but there was a mocking amusement dancing in them now. he exhaled slowly, a smirk pulling at his lips as he glanced over at sukuna, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

“what’s this, sukuna? into the nerdy type now?” he taunted, tilting his head as he raised an eyebrow. his tone was layered with mockery, his smirk widening as if the very idea was too ridiculous to believe. “thought you had a thing for a girl with big tits.”

sukuna rolled his eyes, but his smirk didn’t waver. “naaah, not my type,” he shot back, his gaze flicking back to you briefly before he shrugged. “just saying she’s… amusing. probably jumps if someone even looks at her.”

“oh, definitely,” geto chimed in with a chuckle, folding his arms as he looked you over with a lazy curiosity. “bet she’s terrified of guys like us.”

toji laughed, shaking his head as he looked back at the others. “please, she’d probably faint if you even said hi.” they all shared a laugh, a mixture of arrogance and amusement, reveling in the thought. to them, you were just another quiet, unassuming girl in a sea of faces, someone they could easily overlook—or mess with, if the mood struck.

gojo snickered. “hell, she probably doesn’t even know we exist,” he taunted, his smirk growing ever more patronizing as he puffed out another plume of smoke. “probably spends her nights in her room, surrounded by books and stuffed animals. bet she’s never even been to a party.”

geto chuckled, leaning back with a mocking smile. “oh please, she’s probably never even been kissed.”

toji smirked, adding to the barrage of mockery. “god, she’s probably never been touched by a guy either, huh?” he chimed in, his words dripping with lewd undertones. he took another drag of his cigarette, then glanced back at you, eyeing you up and down again, his smirk widening into a leering grin. “bet she’s a complete virgin.”

there was a collective burst of laughter from the three of them, their voices loud and harsh in the otherwise peaceful afternoon air.

sukuna, his smirk still firmly in place, leaned back against the tree, his arms crossed. “yeah, she’s probably saving herself for her dream guy,” he added, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “probably wants some perfect fairytale romance. what a joke.”

toji let out a low, dark snicker, his gaze flickering back to you as his smirk widened into something almost predatory. he leaned forward slightly, the cruel glint in his green eyes sharpening as he watched you, completely oblivious to the way they were talking about you.

“oh, please,” he drawled, his tone dripping with mock amusement. “give me an hour with her, and i’d pop that cherry first,” he said, his scarred lips twisting into a wider smirk, a glimmer of cruelty evident in his gaze.

the other guys laughed again, their voices mingling in the harsh, arrogant way only they could manage. for them, it was a game—a chance to mock and taunt someone so outside their world.

geto snort, “yeah, right.”

gojo chuckled, his smirk widening as he took another casual drag from his cigarette, shaking his head at toji’s words. “big talk, man. you are too scary, let me take the ‘pop’,” he said, his voice laced with a mischievousness.

sukuna let out another sharp huff of laughter, his gaze trailing over you disdainfully, his smirk a mix of mockery and condescension. “yeah, good luck with that,” he snorted, rolling his eyes. “bet she’d faint if you even came close to her.”

but toji didn’t seem worried, his smirk only growing wider, a cruel gleam in his eyes as he continued watching you, a dark challenge present in his expression.

“oh, i’d get her,” he said, his voice oozing a dangerous sort of confidence. his eyes darkened, his smirk turning almost feral as he looked down at his hands, flexing his fingers idly.

“she wouldn’t even know what hit her.”

sukuna raised an eyebrow, a wicked grin spreading across his face as he leaned in, matching toji’s dark energy with a glint of excitement in his own crimson eyes. he crossed his arms, tilting his head with a look that practically dared the others to take him up on his idea.

“let’s make it interesting, boys,” sukuna drawled, his tone laced with twisted amusement. “how about a little wager? who’s gonna get to pop the cherry first?”

the idea hung in the air, laced with a sense of cruel playfulness. the others exchanged looks, smirks widening as they took in the challenge, their gazes flickering back to you as you remained completely unaware, hidden in your book and blissfully out of earshot.

gojo’s smirk only widened, his eyes narrowing slightly as he considered the idea. he took another puff from his cigarette, eyeing sukuna with amusement, clearly intrigued by the proposal. “a wager?” he asked, his voice tinted with a hint of curiosity. “what’s the prize?”

geto chuckled, the idea clearly appealing to him as well. he leaned forward, resting his forearms on his knees as he chimed in. “i’m in,” he said, his smirk mirroring the others.

sukuna shrugged, an amused gleam flashing through his crimson eyes as he glanced over at you, still utterly engrossed in your book and completely unaware of the bet unfolding among the boys. his smirk deepened as he looked back at the others, his tone casual yet laced with dark amusement.

“anything you want,” he replied smoothly, as if it was the simplest thing in the world. he paused, his gaze flickering back to you for a brief moment before adding, “but there’s one condition—whoever wins has to take a photo as proof.”

the challenge hung heavy in the air, each of them exchanging glances, their smirks widening in unison. the thought of the twisted little game gave them all a sense of cruel excitement, feeding their arrogant thrill as they eyed you once more, already imagining how they’d play this out.

gojo let out a low snort, his smirk growing into a smirk of his own. he took another draw on his cigarette before tilting his head slightly, his expression shifting into one of agreement. “deal.” he said, his tone laced with a hint of determination.

geto chuckled softly, his eyes flickering to you once more before he nodded his agreement. “i’m in,” he added, his smirk mirrorring the others, clearly liking the idea of the bet.

toji chuckled, a cruel gleam appearing in his green eyes as he looked at the others, the idea of the bet stirring something wicked inside of him. he leaned back, his smirk growing wider as he nodded. “i’m in,” he echoed, his voice lower than before, filled with an almost excited tension.

it had been a strange week, to say the least. the four most popular boys on campus—geto, sukuna, toji, and especially gojo—had suddenly taken an interest in you, a stark contrast to the way they’d mostly ignored you before. they’d pop up in places they normally wouldn’t be, go out of their way to hold doors open or throw you playful smiles, and act… almost charming. but you weren’t buying it, especially not gojo’s relentless attempts to convince you to tutor him. every time he begged for your help, you’d shut him down without a second thought.

today was no different. you were tucked away in a quiet corner of the library, lost in your studies, when you heard the sound of a chair being pulled out beside you. you didn’t even need to look up to know who it was. with a heavy sigh, you rolled your eyes and refocused on your notes, determined to ignore him.

“oh, come on,” gojo drawled, leaning in close with a pout as he rested his elbows on the table, clearly unfazed by your cold response. “i really need help, you know. i’m hopeless without you.” his tone was dripping with exaggerated desperation, but there was a playful glint in his eyes as he watched for any reaction.

you kept your gaze fixed on your book, trying to block him out. “then maybe you should try actually paying attention in class,” you muttered, flipping a page, hoping he’d take the hint and leave you alone.

but gojo just leaned closer, his voice dropping to a softer, almost persuasive tone. “come on, i’ll owe you one. just one study session. i’ll even buy you coffee,” he offered, flashing you his signature charming smile, like he thought that was all it would take to wear you down.

“not interested,” you replied flatly, turning another page without looking up. you could feel his gaze on you, persistent as ever, but you were determined not to give him the satisfaction.

gojo’s smirk widened, his eyes narrowing slightly. he leaned even closer, his lips almost at your ear, as if daring you to ignore him. “come on, please?” he begged again, his tone dripping with fake desperation, his voice low and tantalizingly close. “just one little tutoring session. i’ll do anything.”

you froze, your pen pausing mid-word as the warmth of gojo’s hand slid down to your thigh, his fingers grazing just under the hem of your skirt. his touch was light, teasing, and you could feel your heart race at the audacity of his move. irritation flared within you, but when you turned to him, ready to give him a piece of your mind, you were met with that damn smirk of his—a look of pure, unbothered confidence.

his face was so close that you could feel his breath, warm and steady, as he whispered, “please?”

his voice was soft, almost seductive, and despite the irritation simmering beneath your calm facade, you could see the glint of amusement in his narrowed blue eyes, fully aware of the effect he was trying to have on you. your eyes narrowed, meeting his challenge, and you gave him a cold, leveled stare, unfazed by his proximity.

you lifted a brow, voice cool as ice. “is this your idea of begging, gojo?”

his smirk didn’t waver; if anything, it grew wider, clearly thrilled by your reaction. “i can be very persuasive,” he murmured, letting his fingers ghost over your thigh, just enough to keep your attention.

he leaned in even closer, his smirk widening further. his lips grazed your ear as he spoke again, his voice low and smooth, like silk. “and i can be very convincing,” he whispered, his hand sliding further up your thigh, leaving a trail of heated tingles in its wake.

you inhaled sharply, his breath hot against your skin as his words lingered in your ear, and you could feel your resolve slipping, his touch relentless and daring as his hand slid further up your thigh. the warmth of his fingers, the confidence in his voice—it was infuriatingly hard to ignore, and you could tell he knew it, that smirk of his only growing as he watched your reaction.

you turned to him, catching his gaze, meeting his smug look with one of quiet defiance. the words were barely a whisper as you muttered, “fine.”

his eyes lit up, triumphant, as if he’d known all along you’d give in, but you held his gaze steadily, a hint of warning still lingering there. “just one session,” you clarified, your voice firm, trying to reassert control even as you felt a flicker of warmth in your cheeks.

gojo’s smirk deepened, seemingly satisfied with your response. his hand paused, still resting on your thigh, his fingers gently caressing the soft skin, sending chills through your body.

“just one, huh?” he echoed, his voice low, thick with satisfaction. he leaned in closer, his breath hot on your neck, his lips practically grazing your skin as he spoke again. “don’t worry, i’ll make it count.”

he paused, his fingers tracing small, slow circles on your thigh, the gesture almost innocent, yet the meaning behind it clear. he looked at you, his gaze almost challenging, a hint of satisfaction in his eyes as he noticed your slight shiver at his touch. he leaned in further, his voice dropping to a low murmur.

“my place or yours?” he purred, his tone dripping with suggestion, his hand gradually making its way higher up your leg.

and that’s where you are . . .

gojo smirks down at you, his eyes roaming over your nerdy appearance hungrily, knees on the floor inside his dorm room. “thanks for coming to tutor me today. i really appreciate it,” his voice drips with false sincerity as he palms himself through his jeans.

“i’ve been struggling with this subject and i’ve heard you’re the best at explaining things.” gojo leans back on his hands, spreading his legs wider to give you an even better view of the bulge straining against his zipper. “why don’t you come closer and we can start going over the material? i’m all yours, baby.” his thumb pinch your chin, the soft pad of his finger trailing off your skin before slipping past your swollen lips into your mouth.

he chuckles softly, a wicked glint in his eye as he watches you squirm. “aww, what’s wrong? you look nervous. there’s no need to be shy around me.”

you swallow hard, your heart pounding in my chest as you kneel before gojo, feeling small and insignificant compared to his tall, muscular frame. your glasses slip down your nose slightly as you gaze up at him with wide, innocent eyes.

“oh, um, t-thank you gojo-kun,” you stammer out, your voice quivering slightly. you shift nervously on your knees, very aware of how vulnerable your position makes you feel. and when gojo’s thumb pushes past your lips, you instinctively close your mouth around it, sucking lightly from habit before realizing what you were doing. a deep blush spreads across your cheeks.

“i’m just a bit overwhelmed, to be honest,” you managed to murmur, voice muffled by his thumb.

gojo’s smirk widens as he feels your warm, wet mouth envelop his thumb. he slowly pumps the digit in and out, mimicking a lewd act. “mmm, don’t be like that, cutie. i promise i won’t bite... much.” he winks salaciously.

his free hand reaches out to cup your burning cheek, calloused fingers brushing over the delicate skin. “you’re so cute when you’re flustered like this. it’s adorable how innocent you are.” gojo leans in closer, his hot breath fanning over your face. the musky scent of his arousal fills your nostrils.

“tell you what, why don’t you put that clever tongue of yours to good use and help me relax a bit before we dive into studying?” his thumb presses deeper into your mouth insistently.

you whimper softly as gojo’s thumb invades your mouth more insistently, your tongue automatically swirling around the invading digit. your mind races, trying to process the sudden intimate contact and the heavy implication behind his words.

“i’m not sure if this is appropriate, gojo-kun,” you manage to say around his thumb after pulling back slightly, your voice muffled. “we should focus on the tutoring session...”

despite your weak protests, you can feel your body reacting to gojo’s proximity and touch— a traitorous heat pooling low in your belly, your cunt starting to clenching around nothing in your skirt. you squirm uncomfortably on your knees, hyper-aware of your submissive posture before him.

“what exactly did you have in mind?”

gojo chuckles darkly, amused by your feeble attempt at protest. he grips your hair, tugging your head back to expose the slender column of your throat. “oh, i think we both know this is exactly what we came here for, isn’t it?”

his other hand moves to palm his aching erection through his jeans, the thick outline unmistakable. “i had something much more... educational in mind than boring textbooks.”

gojo leans in, his lips brushing the shell of your ear as he whispers huskily, “why don’t you be a good girl and put those pretty lips to work? show me what that smart mouth of yours can do besides spouting facts.” he uses his grip on your hair to guide your face towards his crotch, rubbing your cheek against the prominent bulge.

gojo groans softly as he feels your soft cheek pressed against his throbbing erection. he grinds subtly against you, seeking more friction. “fuuuck, you feel so good already. i bet these nerdy little lips will wrap around my cock perfectly.”

with his other hand, he starts unbuckling his belt, the metallic clink seeming obscenely loud in the quiet room. he pops the button of his jeans and slowly drags down the zipper, letting them gape open to reveal the waistband of his boxers straining over his massive bulge.

“gonna ruin you for anyone else,” gojo growls possessively. “by the time ’m done with you, the only thing you’ll be able to think about is choking on my dick.”

the idea was overwhelming— the thought of ruining you and winning the bet performed a cloud in gojo’s head. you gasp sharply as gojo forces your face against his clothed erection, the heat and hardness searing into your cheek. your eyes widen at his crude words, a shiver running down your spine— equal parts fear and reluctant excitement.

“g-gojo-kun, please...” you whimper, your voice high and thready. “we shouldn’t... i-i’ve never...”

despite your halfhearted protests, you find yourself leaning into his touch, nuzzling almost imperceptibly against the thick ridge of his cock. the scent of his arousal is dizzying this close, musk and sweat and pure male essence flooding your senses. trembling fingers come up to tentatively brush against his hipbones as his zipper lowers with agonizing slowness.

gojo smirks cruelly as he hears the tremor in your voice, relishing how easily he can affect you. “shh, it’s okay baby. i’ll teach you everything you need to know,” he croons mockingly.

he hooks his thumbs into the waistband of his boxers and slowly peels them down, freeing his enormous, rock-hard cock. it springs out, slapping against your cheek with a meaty thwack. the thick shaft pulses with need, the flared head an angry purple and leaking copious amounts of precum.

you let out a choked moan as gojo’s huge, throbbing cock slaps against your cheek, leaving a smear of sticky pre-cum on your soft skin. your eyes widen in shock at the sheer size of him, intimidated but undeniably aroused.

“open wide, nerd. i’ve got a big load for you,” gojo taunts crudely. he fists his hand in your hair again, using his grip to angle your face towards his weeping cockhead. “stick out that clever little tongue. i want to see you worship every inch of my big, fat cock like the desperate slut you are.”

“oh god...” you whimper, your tongue darting out to unconsciously lick your lips. the salty-sweet taste of his essence explodes across your taste buds, making your head spin. with trembling hands, you reach up to grasp his muscular thighs for support as he forces your face closer to his imposing manhood. your glasses fog up slightly from your quickened breathing. “i’ve never done this before,” you admit in a tiny, scared voice.

gojo grins wickedly, his eyes gleaming with sadistic lust as he sees the fear and reluctant desire warring in your expression. “that’s alright, that’s why i’m here, you’re about to get the fucking of a lifetime to your virgin pussy,” he grunted.

he rubs the swollen head of his cock all over your face, smearing your cheeks and lips with his slick precum. the musky scent fills your nostrils, making your head swim with overwhelming pheromones. “open up, baby, take my cock like a good girl. promise it feels good, do you trust me?” sweet, his honeyed voice suddenly heavy with sweetness.

but despite that, he thrusts his hips forward, pushing the broad tip past your lips and onto your tongue. he groans at the wet heat engulfing him, head just a beat throw back before snapped, eyes lock with your lips taking the half of his cock. “fuck yes, that’s it. wrap those pretty lips around me.”

you let out a muffled yelp as gojo suddenly pushes past your lips, his thick cock stretching your jaw painfully wide you almost sure the edge of your lips stretch open. your eyes water as he hilts himself inside your virgin mouth, the bulbous head hitting the back of your throat. you gag reflexively, throat spasming around his girth.

“mph!” you try to pull back but his grip on your hair tightens, holding you in place. tears leak from the corners of your eyes as you struggle to accommodate his impressive size. your small hands come up to weakly push at his thighs, overwhelmed by the intrusion.

after a moment, you force yourself to relax your jaw, breathing heavily through your nose. you start to experimentally suckle at the head, your tongue swirling clumsily around it. the taste of his skin and the musky scent flooding your senses is dizzying.

gojo throws his head back with a deep groan as your inexperienced mouth envelops him, your tongue clumsily lapping at his sensitive flesh. the sight of your stretched lips wrapped around his thick cock, tears glistening on your flushed cheeks, is incredibly erotic.

“that’s it, take it deeper,” he growls, fisting his hand tighter in your hair. with a sharp thrust of his hips, he buries himself to the hilt in your convulsing throat. your nose presses against his pelvis as he hilts inside you, cutting off your air supply completely.

“that’s good baby, goood job,” praise after praise fallen from gojo’s pretty, pink lips. he holds you there, savoring the feeling of your constricting esophagus fluttering around his cock. after several long seconds, he finally pulls back, allowing you a gasping breath before plunging in again.

gojo sets a brutal pace, fucking your face with deep, powerful thrusts. each snap of his hips drives his thick cock into your throat, forcing you to swallow around him. drool escapes the corners of your stretched lips, dripping down your chin as he uses your mouth mercilessly.

“you’re doing so well for your first time,” he praises mockingly, voice strained with pleasure. “such an eager little cock sleeve, aren’t you? born to choke on a cock.” he pulls out abruptly, his spit-shined cock bobbing obscenely in front of your face. gojo smacks the heavy shaft against your tear-stained cheeks, smearing them with your own saliva mixed with his precum. “strip,” he commands gruffly, releasing his grip on your hair.

gojo looms over you, his chest heaving with exertion and arousal as he watches you intently. his eyes rake over your disheveled form, drinking in the sight of your reddened cheeks, puffy lips glistening with spit, and the way your glasses sit askew on your face.

“come on, slowpoke. i want to see every inch of the body hiding under those ugly clothes,” he growls impatiently, one hand coming down to roughly palm himself through his open fly. the other reaches out to grab the hem of your shirt, tugging insistently. but, instead of slipping out of your ‘ugly’ clothes, you stand there, eyes widened innocently the way you look up to him.

“don’t make me rip them off. you wouldn’t want me to damage your precious belongings, would ya?“ a wicked smirk plays at the corner of his mouth, eyes glinting with mischief and barely restrained hunger.

you tremble under gojo’s hungry gaze, acutely aware of how debauched you must look— face flushed, glasses fogged, lips swollen and slick with spit. with shaking hands, you reach for the buttons of your shirt, fumbling to undo them one by one.

as more of your creamy skin is revealed, gojo’s eyes darken with undisguised lust. he licks his lips, watching avidly as you shrug the garment off your shoulders and let it fall to the floor. underneath, you wear a plain white lacy bra, the fabric straining slightly over your bust.

next, you stand on wobbly legs to shimmy out of your skirt, letting it pool around your ankles before stepping out of it. your panties match your bra, simple cotton with lace. “gojo-kun..” you murmur, hands hovering over your bra and panties, hiding yourself.

gojo’s heated gaze roams hungrily over your newly exposed body, lingering on the swell of your breasts straining against the delicate lace of your bra. he steps closer, crowding into your personal space until the hard planes of his body press against your softer curves.

“fuck, you’re even hotter than i imagined,” he rasps, calloused fingers trailing up your sides to cup your tits possessively. never in a million years had he found a loser nerd like you could be this hot, and it seems like his cock agrees with the way it’s twitching. he squeezes the soft mounds, thumbs flicking over your nipples through the thin fabric until they pebble beneath his touch, pushing a breathless gasp out of your throat.

with a wicked grin, gojo reaches behind you and deftly unclasps your bra, tossing it aside carelessly. cool air hits your bare skin, pebbling your nipples further as they’re bared to his intense scrutiny.

“perfect.”

gojo hooks his fingers in the waistband of your panties and yanks them down your thighs in one swift motion. the flimsy material catches on your knees briefly before falling to your ankles, baring you completely to his hungry gaze.

he takes a step back, drinking in the sight of your naked body with an appreciative hum. his eyes linger on the cute, neat patch of curls crowning your mound, the slight flare of your hips, the gentle swell of your ass. “goddamn, you’re gorgeous,” he murmurs reverently.

without warning, gojo drops to his knees in front of you, large hands gripping your thighs to spread them apart. he leans in close, his hot breath ghosting over your most intimate parts. “i bet this sweet cunt tastes divine,” he growls, dragging his tongue along your slit in one long, painfully slow stroke.

you can’t help but let out a startled moan as gojo’s warm tongue drags along your most intimate folds, sending sparks of pleasure racing up your spine. your knees buckle slightly and you have to brace yourself against the wall to keep from collapsing under the intensity of sensation.

“g-gojo-kun!” you gasp, fingers tangling in his silver hair as he laps at your slit like a man starved. his tongue delves between your lower lips, seeking out your entrance and circling it teasingly. you squirm against the invasion, thighs trembling with the effort to hold still.

gojo chuckles lowly, the vibrations making you shudder. he seals his lips around your clit and sucks hard, flicking the sensitive bud with the tip of his tongue. “ah! ahh!”

gojo moans into your pussy as you grind against his face, his tongue delving deep inside your fluttering walls. he laps at your juices greedily, the obscene slurping sounds filling the room. “mmm, you taste even better than i imagined,” he growls, the rumble of his voice vibrating against your sensitive flesh. “so fucking sweet.”

his hands grip your ass, kneading the supple globes as he eats you out with single-minded focus. he alternates between thrusting his tongue in and out of your clenching hole and flicking the tip rapidly over your throbbing clit. the lewd wet noises echo off the walls, mingling with your needy whimpers and gasps.

“oooh! m-my god!” you writhe helplessly against gojo’s relentless assault, fingers digging into his silver hair as waves of overwhelming pleasure crash over you. your hips undulate shamelessly, grinding your aching core against his face as he devours you like a man possessed.

“that’s it, ride my tongue,” he grunt, the words muffled against your soaked folds. you throw your head back with a keening cry as gojo works you over with his skilled tongue, pleasure coiling tighter and tighter in your core. your fingers tighten reflexively in his hair, tugging sharply at the silvery strands.

“ah! g-gojo-kun!” you gasp brokenly, toes curling against the cool tile floor. your inner muscles flutter wildly around his invading tongue.

gojo growls into your pussy, the sound sending delicious vibrations through your core. he doubles his efforts, sealing his lips around your clit and sucking hard while simultaneously thrusting two thick fingers knuckle-deep into your spasming channel.

“g-gojo-hng!” you sob brokenly, hips continue to roll shamelessly against his face. you mewl helplessly into the filthy kiss, when gojo’s tongue dominating yours as he claims your mouth thoroughly after he stands abruptly.

you can taste yourself on him, the musky flavor making your head spin with renewed arousal and it sends a fresh wave of heat flooding through your veins. his hand slides up to palm your breast roughly, calloused thumb scraping over your sensitive nipple.

when he finally breaks away, you’re left panting and dazed, lips kiss-swollen and tingling. gojo grins wolfishly down at you, pupils blown wide with lust. “god, so fucking beautiful when i’m ’bout to ruin you,” he promises darkly, voice rough with desire. “by the time i’m done, all you’ll be able to think about is my cock splitting you open."

his hand slides down your body to grip your thigh, hoisting your leg up to wrap around his hip. the new position leaves you feeling deliciously vulnerable, your slick folds rubbing directly against the rigid length of him.

gojo’s heated gaze rakes over your flushed form, drinking in every inch of newly exposed skin. he licks his lips slowly, savoring the taste of your essence still coating his tongue. “fuck, you look good enough to eat,” he growls appreciatively, palming himself once again, smearing his precum all over your thigh, the biting lips to stop the moaning betraying his own desperate arousal.

with a few quick movements, gojo shucks off his shirt, revealing the lean lines of his torso. his pale skin is littered nothing but softness. he kicks off his pants next, leaving him fully naked now.

slowly, torturously, gojo sinks into your welcoming heat inch by excruciating inch. gojo grunts as your slick folds slide along his shaft, coating him in your essence. your slick walls stretch deliciously around his girth, molding to every ridge and vein. by the time he’s fully seated, you feel impossibly full, stuffed to the brim with hard, throbbing cock.

“fuuck!” he snarls, eyes squeezing shut at the exquisite sensation of your velvety walls gripping him like a vice. he holds himself there for a moment, letting you adjust to the sudden intrusion. “p-pussy sooo-shit! good.” the feeling of your gummy walls suffocating his cock almost making gojo’s feel bad for using you as a bet, but fuckkk! you feel so good.

you let out a strangled moan as gojo hilts himself fully inside you, stretching you wider than ever before. your slick walls flutter and clench around his thickness, trying instinctively to accommodate the sudden intrusion. the sensation borders on painful but the dull ache only serves to heighten your pleasure, stoking the flames of your arousal higher.

“ah! s-so biiig,” you whimper breathlessly, fingernails raking down gojo’s back. your hips twitch restlessly, torn between the urge to pull away from the intense stretch and the primal need to take him deeper. gojo groans at the feeling of your scorching heat enveloping him so completely. his pelvis presses flush against yours, ensuring that not an inch of space remains between your bodies.

gojo once again, groans deeply as your velvety walls ripple along his length, the exquisite sensations threatening to undo his control. he wants nothing more than to rut into you mindlessly, chasing his own pleasure. but he forces himself to hold still, giving you time to adjust to his size.

“shit baby, you feel incredible,” he rasps, voice strained with barely restrained lust. “so fucking tight...” he rolls his hips experimentally, pulling out just an inch before sinking back in. the drag of his thick cock against your sensitive nerves makes you both gasp. gojo sets a slow, deep rhythm, letting you feel every inch of him as he strokes your inner walls. his hands roam your curves possessively, mapping out the dips and swells of your body.

you arch into gojo’s touch, craving more of his addictive caresses. your nails score down his back, leaving red welts in their wake. the sting only seems to spur him on, his thrusts growing harder and faster as he chases his own pleasure.

“too muuuch,” you cry, tossing your head back as he hits a particularly sensitive spot. your legs wrap around his waist, heels digging into the small of his back to urge him deeper. “hurt, ah! too big.”

gojo snarls, the sound feral and hungry. he leans down to capture one pert nipple between his teeth, biting down just shy of too hard. you yelp at the sharp jolt of pain, cunt clenching rhythmically around his pistoning length.

gojo grunts as your inner walls clamp down around him like a vice, the added pressure sending sparks of pleasure shooting up his spine. he knows he should probably slow down, give you time to adjust, but the way you’re writhing beneath him is just too enticing.

“you can take it,” he growls, punctuating his words with a particularly brutal thrust.

once again, gojo snarls against your breast, tongue flicking out to lave over the abused bud. “don’t worry baby, i’ll make it feel real good,” he promises, harmonizing his words with a particularly vicious thrust. the blunt head of his cock kisses your cervix, making you see stars.

your slick walls spasm wildly around his girth, fluttering and clenching as if trying to push him out even as your body betrays you, hips rolling shamelessly to meet each punishing stroke. the wet slap of flesh echoes obscenely in the room, mingling with your wanton moans and gojo’s animalistic grunts.

gojo lets out a low groan, eyes fluttering shut as your slick walls ripple around his thickness. “fuck, your pussy is milking my cock so good,” he grunts, hips snapping forward almost violently. one large hand snakes between your bodies, fingers finding your swollen clit and rubbing tight circles around the sensitive bud. “come on, baby. squeeze this cock just like that,” gojo urges gruffly, increasing the pressure on your clit. “gonna fill this pretty cunt up real soon.”

you throw your head back with a guttural moan, fingers tangling in gojo’s hair as he works you closer to the edge. your thighs tremble, muscles quivering with the strain of holding yourself open for his relentless assault. sweat beads along your brow, plastering strands of hair to your face.

“please,” you keen desperately, unsure what exactly you’re begging for anymore. more? less? harder? faster? all you know is that yo’'re teetering right on the precipice, balanced precariously between agony and ecstasy.

gojo grins wickedly, sensing your desperation. he leans in close, hot breath ghosting over the shell of your ear as he whispers filthy promises. “that’s it, cum for me baby. gonna pump you so full of my seed, you’ll be dripping for days.”

but before you reach that peak, that climax you desperately need, gojo abruptly stops moving. hands trailing down your tights before throwing your body to his bed. a gasp of surprise tears from your throat, followed by a whimper— a subtle sign of protest.

gojo chuckles darkly, reveling in the delicious sight of you sprawled out before him, flushed and panting. he takes a moment to admire the view— your chest heaving, breasts bouncing with each labored breath, the glistening evidence of your arousal painting your inner thighs.

gojo smirks down at you, taking in your confused expression with a glint of mischief in his eyes. he trails a finger down your sternum, circling one dusky nipple teasingly for a second. “what’s wrong, baby?” he coos mockingly. “didn’t get your fix?”

he shifts slightly, the movement causing his half-hard cock to brush against your thigh. you shudder at the contact, a fresh wave of arousal flooding through you. gojo hums approvingly at your reaction, leaning down to nip at your jaw.

“mmm, look at you,” he purrs approvingly, trailing a finger through your slick folds. “all spread out and ready for me. such a goood girl.” without warning, gojo flips you onto your stomach, hauling your hips up until you’re presenting yourself to him like a bitch in heat. he runs a proprietary hand over the curve of your ass, squeezing roughly. “this ass though... fuck, i could play with it all day.”

gojo’s eyes rake over your prone form appreciatively, drinking in the delectable sight of you splayed out before him. he takes his time exploring your curves, fingers tracing idle patterns across your skin. when he reaches the swell of your rear, he gives the supple flesh a firm squeeze, kneading the plush globes like dough. this might be the first and the last time he has you in his bed, might make it memorable.

“such a perfect little peach,” he praises huskily, spreading you wide to expose your most intimate parts. cool air wafts over your heated flesh, making you shiver. gojo hums in approval at the sight of your dripping cunt, flushed and swollen with need.

he leans in close, hot breath ghosting over your sensitive skin. “look how wet you are for me,” he murmurs, voice dripping with smug satisfaction. you let out a soft moan, squirming under gojo’s intense gaze. his rough hands map out every dip and curve of your body, igniting sparks of pleasure wherever they touch. you arch into his caress, silently begging for more.

when he finally reaches your aching core, you buck your hips eagerly, desperate for friction. “please,” you whimper, voice high and needy. “i need—”

gojo cuts off your pleas with a sharp smack to your rear, the stinging impact making you yelp. “ah ah, none of that now,” he tuts disapprovingly. “you don’t get to tell me what you need, understand? it’s an honor y’know, for me to take your virginity, so you don’t get to tell me what you need.”

he punctuates his words with another firm swat, watching with rapt attention as your skin blooms pink under his palm. but even so, gojo couldn’t stop the spinning from his head, the sigh of you, the feel of your cunt tightly grip his needy cock making him all desperate and losing his shit to you, a fucking nerd all out of other girl.

gojo grins wickedly, clearly enjoying your predicament. he traces a finger through your soaked folds, gathering some of your essence on his digit before bringing it to his lips. he makes a show of licking it clean, savoring your unique flavor with a satisfied hum.

“mmm, you taste divine,” he purrs, voice dripping with lust. “like the finest nectar.”

gojo lines himself up with your entrance once more, the broad head of his cock nudging insistently at your slick opening. he teases you with shallow thrusts, barely breaching your entrance before pulling away again. your walls flutter around nothing, trying desperately to draw him in deeper.

“beg for it,” he demands huskily, giving your rear another firm smack. “let me hear how badly you want this cock.“ he grabs your hip, fingers bent to your flesh the way he drags you to the edge of his bed and your feet touching the cold tile.

his one arm sneaking down to your thigh, lifting it off the floor while the other hand relentlessly teases your needy cunt with the swollen tip of his cock— kissing your clit.

you writhe beneath gojo’s ministrations, a litany of needy whimpers and pleas falling from your kiss-swollen lips. “please,” you beg shamelessly, too far gone to care about dignity. “gojo-kuuunn . . i need you inside me, filling me up. i can’t take it anymore!”

your hips buck frantically, seeking friction against his maddening teasing. you’re so empty, aching to be stretched and filled by his thick length. gojo just chuckles darkly at your desperation, continuing his torturous game. his chest raining with pride and happiness for taking your virginity, him, not another man. him.

“oh? and why should i give you what you want?” he taunts, rubbing the tip of his cock against your entrance without pushing in. “maybe i like seeing you like this— alllll spread out and begging so pretty for me.”

gojo leans in, his lips brushing against yours in a brief, teasing kiss. “you taste sweet when you’re desperate like this,” he murmurs against your mouth, tongue flicking out to lick at your lower lip. “makes me want to devour you whole.”

he pulls back slightly, his gaze intense as he watches your reactions. “but since you asked so nicely...” with a slow, deliberate push, he sinks into your heat, groaning at the velvety tightness enveloping his cock.

gojo pauses for a moment, savoring the feeling of being buried deep within you. then, with a gentle roll of his hips, he begins to move, setting a slow, sensual rhythm. he savors each drag of your slick walls along his shaft, relishing in the exquisite sensation of taking your virginity. his hand leaving another handprint on your ass, digging his dull nail into the skin.

a gasp tears from your throat as gojo finally sheathes himself fully inside you, the stretch both painful and exhilarating. you cling to the sheets, nails digging into the fabric as you acclimate to the foreign intrusion.

but as he starts to move, long, languid strokes that fill you to the brim, you begin to relax into the pleasure. a low moan escapes you, vibrations humming against gojo’s lips before your head falls to his bed. “ahh... yes... just like thaaat...”

your hips start to rock in tandem with his, meeting each thrust with eagerness. the sensations build rapidly, coiling tighter and tighter in your belly. you can feel every ridge and vein of gojo’s cock as it slides against your inner walls, sending jolts of electric pleasure through you.

“more,” you breathe out, voice ragged with need, causing the man to leave your reddened ass to find your hair and take a fistful of the locks while the other arm tightens around your thigh, making a perfect symphony the way he pounds into you from behind.

gojo’s fingers dig into your scalp, tugging roughly at your hair as he pistons into you with reckless abandon. the bed creaks and shifts beneath the force of his thrusts, a rhythmic beat that echoes the pounding of your hearts.

gojo growls in approval, the sound muffled against your ear as he buries his face in the crook of your neck. his hips snap forward with renewed vigor, driving into you with a primal intensity that steals your breath away. the force of his thrusts sends the headboard thudding against the wall, a rhythmic beat that echoes the pounding of your heart.

“you’re so fucking tight,” he grits out between clenched teeth, his grip on your hair tightening almost painfully as he uses it to pull your head back, exposing the vulnerable column of your throat. “i can feel every inch of you milking my cock. this cunt feels like heaven, fuuuck.”

gojo’s words are punctuated by the lewd slap of skin against skin, the obscene sound only serving to heighten your arousal. his fingers tighten in your hair, tugging just hard enough to make you gasp. the slight sting only serves to heighten your arousal, your body craving more of his dominance. gojo's other hand grips your thigh firmly, holding you steady as he pistons in and out of you with relentless precision.

your mind goes blank, overwhelmed by the sheer intensity of gojo’s possession. every nerve ending is alight with sensation, each thrust sending shockwaves of pleasure coursing through your veins. you can feel yourself teetering on the brink, precariously close to the edge.

a hoarse cry spills from your lips as gojo hits that spot deep inside, the sensitive bundle of nerves that makes your vision blur and toes curl. “ahhh! oh god, right there!” you wail, hips bucking wildly to meet his punishing pace.

a sharp cry tears from your throat as gojo’s grip on your hair intensifies, the pain mixing deliciously with the overwhelming pleasure coursing through your veins. you arch your back, offering yourself up completely to his dominating touch.

“yes, oh god, just like that!” you moan, the words tumbling out in a desperate rush. “fuck me harder, gojo-kun!”

gojo’s eyes flash with triumph and possessiveness at your wanton cries, his grip on your hair and thigh tightening reflexively. he slams into you with renewed ferocity, the force of his thrusts rattling the bed frame and sending the headboard crashing against the wall.

“that’s it, scream for me,” he snarls, his hot breath fanning over your ear as he leans in close. “let everyone know who’s fucking you senseless.” gojo’s free hand snakes around to cup your breast, pinching and rolling the nipple between his fingers. the dual sensations of his ruthless pounding and the pleasurable tug on your sensitive bud send you spiraling closer to the edge.

as if sensing your impending climax, gojo redoubles his efforts, pistoning into you with wild abandon. your world narrows down to the searing heat of gojo’s body, the relentless thrusts of his cock, and the intoxicating scent of sex that fills the air. you’re lost in a haze of pure, unadulterated pleasure, every fiber of your being focused on chasing that elusive peak.

the pressure builds and builds, coiling tighter in your core until you think you might burst. gojo’s harsh commands and the brutal pace of his fucking only serve to heighten the tension, pushing you closer and closer to the brink.

with a keening wail, you finally tumble over the edge, your orgasm slamming into you like a freight train. your inner walls clench around gojo’s throbbing cock, rippling and fluttering as wave after wave of ecstasy crashes over you.

“fuck, fuuck! gojo-kun! ’m cumming, cumming!”

gojo lets out a guttural roar as he feels your pussy clamping down on his cock, the vice-like grip triggering his own release. with one final, brutal thrust, he buries himself to the hilt inside you, his seed erupting in powerful spurts as he fills you up.

“fuck, fuck, fuck!” he chants, his hips jerking erratically as he rides out the waves of his climax. his hips jerking erratically as he rides out the waves of his climax. gojo’s grip on your hair and thigh remains unrelenting, holding you in place as he marks you as his, claiming you utterly and completely.

overwhelmed by the intensity of your shared orgasms, you collapse onto the mattress the heartbeat his grasp on you loosened, your body still trembling with aftershocks. gojo’s continued pulsing inside you, coupled with the warmth of his release coating your insides, leaves you feeling utterly spent yet deeply satisfied.

as your breathing slowly returns to normal, you become aware of gojo’s hands gentling their hold on you, his fingers stroking soothing patterns on your skin. a soft, contented sigh escapes your lips as you melt into his touch, basking in the afterglow of your passionate encounter.

he leans forward, bracing his hands on the edge of the bed, his chest pressed against your back. his breath is still a bit ragged, but you can feel his strong, steady presence behind you. for a few moments, all you hear is the steady, calming sound of your combined breathing, the only indication that both of you are slowly recovering from the intensity of your shared passion.

after a few moments, gojo breaks the comfortable silence, his voice low and still slightly husky. “you okay?” he murmurs, his lips brushing gently against the shell of your ear.

his hands slide down your sides, gently encircling your waist, his touch tender and light. the weight of his chest against your back is reassuring, and you can still feel the heat of his body radiating through your clothes. he shifts slightly, his chin resting on your shoulder, and you can practically feel his intense gaze on you, as if he’s silently assessing how you’re feeling.

a soft smile curves your lips at gojo’s gentle inquiry, your body relaxing further under his comforting touch. “mhm, i’m good,” you murmur, tilting your head slightly to rest against the soft material of his blanket. “just... really sated right now.”

you let out a contented little sigh, enjoying the warmth of his embrace and the intimate closeness of his body pressed against yours. slowly but surely, the feeling of his softened cock slipped out of your cunt, taking all of your cum and his down to your thigh and floor.

gojo chuckles softly in response, hearing the hint of satisfaction in your tired voice. he plants a soft, feather-light kiss on your neck, his lips lingering there for a moment. “that’s good,” he says, his voice laced with a hint of pride, “i’m glad i exhausted you that much.”

he pauses for a moment, his hands gently rubbing your sides, before speaking again. “need anything? water, a towel, or just... rest?” he asks, his tone genuinely concerned.

you let out a soft sigh, the tension of the past moments slowly melting away as you murmured, “just rest.” your voice was quiet, tired, and gojo, ever attentive, hummed in agreement, his lips brushing softly against your cheek in a gentle kiss.

“say no less,” he whispered with that same reassuring tone, his arms immediately wrapping around you. he shifted you both onto the bed, pulling you into his embrace and letting you rest your head on his chest. his warmth surrounded you, grounding you at the moment, his heartbeat steady beneath you.

gojo made sure to cover both of you with the blanket, tucking it around your bare body with care, his movements slow and deliberate. despite the weight of the earlier events, his presence was steady, a soft contrast to the tension you’d felt before. outside of the bet, outside of the teasing, the games, and the complexities of it all, he seemed intent on giving you comfort—giving you the space to just rest, without further complications. his fingers gently traced circles on your back, a quiet reminder that, at this moment, there was nothing but a reason you were on his bed simply because of a bet— the bet he’s going to win.

gojo held you close, his arms encircling your body snugly under the soft warmth of the blanket. he continued tracing light circles on your back, the soothing repetitive motion a silent reassurance of his presence and care.

his chest rose and fell in a steady, calming rhythm, and you could feel the faint thump of his heartbeat beneath your ear. his body offered a solid, comforting presence, grounding you in the aftermath of the eventful night.

gojo remained silent for several minutes, simply holding you close, his touch gentle and nurturing. after a few moments, he leaned down, his lips brushing against your forehead in a tender kiss. “get some rest,” he murmured, his voice low and soothing.

he shifted slightly, adjusting his position so that both of you were more comfortable. his arms remained wrapped around you, holding you close against his chest, a silent promise of protection and comfort.

you simply nod.

gojo feels your nod, his lips curving into a small smile against your forehead. “good,” he murmurs, his voice soft and low.

he lets out a deep, content sigh, his body relaxing further into the bed, his arms still holding you close. his breathing slows, a steady, measured rhythm that seems to lull you into a sense of peace and security. the room is enveloped in a comfortable silence for a while, the only sound being the steady beat of his heart against your ear.

gojo’s gaze softened as he looked down at your peaceful face, the soft rise and fall of your chest the only movement in the stillness of the room. he stayed like that for a while, just watching you, making sure you were fully asleep, your breathing steady and relaxed. he could feel the weight of the day, the tension from earlier, and he knew you needed this rest, even if you didn’t quite realize it yet.

once he was certain you were asleep, gojo's fingers slid beneath the pillow, pulling out his phone with careful movements. his smirk returned, a wicked gleam flashing in his eyes as he unlocked the screen and opened the camera. he took a quick snapshot, the sound of the shutter a soft click that was barely audible in the quiet room. his eyes flicked down to the picture, his smirk widening as he admired the photo of you, completely unaware, asleep in his arms.

“this is mine,” he muttered quietly to himself, the excitement of the bet reigniting within him. he knew he was going to win, and as much as he enjoyed this rare moment of calm with you, there was no denying the competitive streak that ran through him. he tucked the phone back under the pillow, settling back into the warmth of the bed, still holding you close, but his mind already racing ahead to the next step in his game.

gojo’s gaze remains fixed on you, admiring the innocent, vulnerable expression on your face as you sleep. he takes several more moments to just watch you, his gaze flickering over every detail of your face—the way your eyelashes flutter against your cheeks, the gentle rise and fall of your chest, the slight part of your lips as you breathe in.

he lets out a soft sigh, his fingers gently tracing your skin, his touch almost reverent. “god, you’re beautiful,” he murmurs quietly, the words slipping out involuntarily.

gojo’s eyes lingered on your peaceful, sleeping form, an unsettling mixture of admiration and satisfaction bubbling inside him. every detail of your face seemed to draw him in, each soft breath you took making his heart twist. he couldn't help but trace the curve of your cheek with his finger, as though savoring the image of you in your most vulnerable state. god, you're beautiful, he thought, the words slipping from his lips in a quiet murmur, but they were tinged with something darker.

as much as he tried to shake it off, a faint flicker of guilt gnawed at him. just a tiny sliver, a whisper in the back of his mind, reminding him of the bet, the cruel game he was playing with his friends. was this really what he wanted? to use you like this, to take advantage of your innocence, your trust, all for the sake of proving something to them? the thought scratched at his conscience, but it was fleeting, quickly drowned out by the more dominant, selfish part of him.

he couldn’t help it—he wanted to win. he wanted to show off, to prove that he was the one who’d conquered you first. the idea of rubbing it in toji, geto, and sukuna’s faces, seeing their reactions when he revealed that he was the one who’d claimed you, made his chest tighten with dark satisfaction. the guilt? it was easily buried beneath the hunger for victory.

monday couldn’t come soon enough.

sukuna leaned back, crossing his arms with a sly smirk as he glanced at gojo. “you’re so damn stupid,” he sneered, his voice dripping with disdain. “just get to the point, genius. we’re here to talk about the bet, not hear you babble on like an idiot.”

the mention of the bet caused a shift in the group. toji’s smirk sharpened, a predatory gleam in his eyes as he leaned forward, clearly ready to pounce on whatever gojo had to offer. geto, normally the calmest of them, looked intrigued, his gaze steady and expectant. sukuna’s own smirk widened into a mocking grin, savoring the thrill of competition, ready to lay down his own proof and claim victory over the others.

he let the tension build, basking in the eager anticipation hanging thick between them. then, without further ado, sukuna reached into his pocket, pulling out his phone and casually waving it in the air. “alright, boys. one... two... three,” he counted, then turned his screen toward the group with a triumphant look. displayed was a photo of you lying next to him, fast asleep, vulnerable and unguarded. sukuna’s smirk grew wider, reveling in the victory he thought was his.

as sukuna’s countdown reached three, he confidently pulled out his phone, an air of smug triumph around him as he turned the screen to reveal the photo of you, asleep in his arms, your peaceful face nestled against him. for a brief moment, he savored the victory, certain he’d be the one to claim the title. but as he looked up, expecting awe and frustration from the others, he found something else entirely.

geto’s face, usually so calm, had twisted into a look of sheer confusion, a frown creasing his brow as he looked down at his own phone, then up at sukuna, and back to his phone again. in his hand, on his own screen, was the exact same photo—down to every last detail. his jaw clenched, and he turned the phone towards sukuna without saying a word, letting the image speak for itself.

toji, who’d been leaning back with a predatory smirk, felt his confidence waver. he, too, checked his phone, and the smirk fell, replaced by a dark scowl. “what kind of joke is this?” he growled, his fingers gripping his phone tightly, a mix of anger and disbelief in his eyes as he flashed the identical photo.

and gojo, who’d initially met sukuna’s countdown with smug amusement, suddenly felt the blood drain from his face. he looked at his own screen, the same picture staring back at him, taunting him with an illusion of victory. his lips pressed into a thin line as he glanced at each of the others, his usual cocky grin now replaced with a frustrated grimace. “so… none of us won anything, huh?” he muttered bitterly, his voice low, laced with irritation.

a tense silence settled over them, their expressions twisted with disbelief and anger. each one felt the bitter sting of having been outsmarted, the pride and triumph they’d anticipated now twisted into something sharp and uncomfortable.

sukuna clenched his jaw, the victory he’d tasted turning to ash. “this is ridiculous. how the hell—” he began, but was cut off by toji’s dry, humorless laugh.

“guess none of us were as clever as we thought,” toji muttered darkly, his voice edged with anger and annoyance.

sukuna’s eyes narrowed, his pride deeply wounded. “tch,” he scoffed, shoving his phone back into his pocket. “so we all lost? pathetic.” they sat in a tense, silent circle, each stewing in their own frustration and realizing they’d been played.

gojo let out a frustrated sigh, the realization of the situation sinking in. none of them had won, and worse, they'd all been tricked. he glanced again in your direction, a mix of irritation and confusion on his face. the realization that you, sweet and innocent as you seemed, had somehow outsmarted them all was a pill too hard to swallow.

“well, this is just great,” he muttered, his voice heavy with sarcasm. “we’re all idiots.”

the four men turned, spotted you a few benches away, looking completely at ease, chatting with none other than nanami. his composed, polished demeanor stood out even in the crowded cafeteria, and as you held your phone up to show him something, you looked every bit like you were sharing a private joke. they saw your face light up with that familiar, radiant smile as nanami rolled his eyes in mock annoyance, his expression softening in a way they rarely saw.

then, to their surprise, nanami sighed, pulling his wallet from his pocket and handing you a couple of bills. your smile grew even bigger, the kind of delighted, unguarded grin they’d each hoped to earn themselves. from a distance, they couldn’t make out what you were saying, but the playful exchange and easy familiarity between you both were clear as day.

their eyes widened when nanami leaned down, just slightly, his hand resting on your shoulder as he pressed a brief but gentle kiss to your lips—completely unfazed by the cafeteria full of students. the kiss was neither rushed nor hesitant, just natural and unapologetic. as he pulled away, he sent a pointed, almost warning glance in their direction, his gaze cold and unyielding, as if daring any of them to even think about challenging him.

you turned then, catching their gawking stares and raising the cash in your hand with a sly grin that practically dripped with triumph. they could only sit in stunned silence as you waved the money at them, your expression smug and knowing. your gaze lingered on them for a second longer, a little glint of mischief in your eyes, before you turned your attention back to your phone, completely unfazed by their reactions.

the four men sat there, speechless, their jaws hanging open in shock at the scene unfolding before them. they’d expected you to be meek and naive, unaware of their little bet. instead, here you were, giggling with nanami, a man known for his aloofness and strict nature, casually taking money from him in exchange for a kiss. your confident wave and smug smile only added to the shock.

toji was the first to snap out of it, his eyes narrowing as he watched you with a mixture of anger and surprise. “what the hell was that?” he sputtered, his voice strained.

sukuna’s face contorted with pure disbelief, a rare look of complete shock crossing his usual smug features. he couldn’t believe that the girl they’d all so casually thought they were playing had flipped the entire game on them. his jaw clenched, eyes narrowing as he muttered under his breath, “unbelievable… she played us.”

toji, on the other hand, looked downright irritated, his expression darkening as he watched nanami give you that casual, easy kiss. his pride stung, and he forced out a low, sarcastic laugh, shaking his head. “so much for thinking she’d be easy to handle,” he growled. “guess we’re the ones who got handled.”

geto was silent, his usual calm mask slipping just enough to reveal the flicker of surprise in his eyes. he prided himself on being perceptive, but seeing you there with nanami, openly flaunting the victory they thought was theirs, left him speechless. his lips curved into a grudging smirk, though, as he muttered, “gotta hand it to her… didn’t see that coming.”

gojo felt his face flush with a mix of frustration and lingering embarrassment. he leaned back, running a hand over his face and letting out a soft, defeated chuckle. “well, this is just fantastic,” he murmured, his voice dripping with sarcasm as he watched you wave the money with that smug smile on your face. “we’re all idiots, and she knows it.”

the four men sat there, each lost in their own thoughts, the reality of what had just happened sinking in. they’d underestimated you, treated you like a naive little toy to be won, but you'd turned the tables on them. and the fact that you’d done it so effortlessly, with such a casual smirk on your face, only added to the collective sense of shock and irritation.

gojo, in particular, couldn’t shake off the burning sense of embarrassment. you’d made him look like a fool, and that stung. him, who was never one to be outplayed, felt a strange mix of anger and admiration at your audacity. it was both aggravating and irritating, but there was an undercurrent of grudging respect. you’d made all of them look like morons, yet there was something about your confidence, the way you casually took nanami’s money, that he couldn’t help but find intriguing.

gojo clenched his jaw, his own competitive nature burning within him. “that smug little…” he muttered under his breath, barely loud enough for the others to hear.

geto shot him a bemused smirk, sensing the competitive fire flaring up in his friend. “looks like you’ve met your match, genius,” he said, his voice laced with sarcasm. “and judging by the look on your face, you’re not handling it too well.”

lost in a whirlwind of shock and confusion, they barely noticed you approaching until you were standing right at their table, an amused, knowing smile on your lips. with a graceful, almost lazy flick of your wrist, you dropped a small stack of polaroids onto the table, each one falling face-up, showing exactly what they dreaded to see.

each photo captured the same damning image: them, fast asleep, completely unaware, while you sat on their waist, looking down with a mocking pout. your lips jutted out in an exaggerated, fake crying face, as if mourning their obliviousness. their faces, peaceful in sleep, were juxtaposed with your taunting expression, turning the tables in a way none of them could have expected.

toji’s eyes went wide as he flipped through the pictures, his smirk quickly fading to a tight-lipped grimace. sukuna’s jaw clenched, a flush of irritation darkening his cheeks as he processed the fact that you’d played him, all of them, so perfectly. geto let out a disbelieving chuckle, shaking his head, unable to hide a mix of amusement and frustration at your brazen boldness.

gojo, usually quick with a snappy comeback, could only stare at the photos, stunned into silence. he glanced up at you, his gaze a mix of admiration and disbelief. you’d outwitted them, effortlessly.

you leaned in slightly, resting one hand on the edge of the table, flashing them a wicked grin. “hope you enjoyed your little nap, boys,” you teased, your tone sweet but dripping with smugness. with one final smirk, you turned on your heel and walked away, leaving them speechless, the photos in hand as a constant reminder of the game they’d lost to you.

[girlscience]

the adrenaline rush after talking to someone who gives you severe anxiety but the conversation went super well and was super helpful: unparalleled