#i dont remember writing this but i found it sitting in my drafts

[brooklynsspiderman]

Miles. Are you still struggling on your English homework?

Always

(English homework is my true nemesis 😭😭)

[carwoodron]

fic ramblings ignore me

[twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat]

THE THINGS YOU DO FOR LOVE... ; SATORU GOJO

synopsis; satoru begs you to wear the frilly maid dress he bought. against your better judgement, you indulge him.

word count; 7.0k (this was supposed to be short but i miss him terribly)

contents; satoru gojo/reader, gn!reader, fluff fluff fluff!!, sickeningly sweet, literally just satoru being down horrendous, lots and lots of petnames (he is embarrassing), he’s ur biggest hypeman, entirely sfw!! (i feel like i have to specify that…), reader is a lil grumpy, satoru gojo is the most insufferable man on earth <3

a/n; this is just a silly lil wip i found in my drafts…. i dont remember what possessed me to write this i just think satoru would cry and fall to his knees and throw up blood if he saw u in a frilly dress

”— no.”

the word rolls off your tongue, instantaneous, with a decisive kind of sterness. leaving no room for hesitation, doubt or indecision; not a single gap for his argument to fit through, no loophole he could take advantage of to persuade you into giving in.

but despite all that, satoru just won’t back down.

”come on, baby, please?” he pleads, voice coaxing and sugary sweet. you can almost see those puppy dog eyes of his from behind the black glass of his shades. ”i already bought it and everything!”

”i don’t care,” you spit. a halfhearted attempt at appearing annoyed, in hopes it’ll distract him from the strawberry flush of your cheeks. ”i’m not wearing it. you shouldn’t have bought it, in the first place.”

”but sweetheart,” he drawls, tinged with a sadness he knows tugs at your heartstrings. ”it’s so cute. you’ll look so adorable.”

”not happening.”

”but —”

”— no. i’m seriously not wearing it, satoru.”

it’s harsh, the flow of your words, sharp and firm; but that’s your only option when he gets like this. your only slim chance at survival, being almost painfully direct. that doesn’t stop your resolve from weakening pitifully when satoru’s posture wilts, though, obviously exaggerated but still somehow effective. you debase yourself for being so weak for him. 

but giving in just isn’t an option, this time. 

under normal circumstances, it wouldn’t take too long for him to persuade you. satoru can be annoying, extremely so — but when he’s being so stubborn about something, there’s usually a good reason for it, even if it’s just that whatever he wants you to do will make him happy. to you, it’ll do.

(his happiness is your priority, after all.)

but in this case, there’s just no way. absolutely no way in hell.

he’s still holding that thing up, like he genuinely thinks it’ll support his argument, swaying it lightly side to side. it really, really doesn’t. it does the complete opposite, in fact.

”but angel,” he tries, again. you wonder if he’s eventually going to run out of petnames, or if he’ll just keep cycling through them until he runs out of air to breathe. ”don’t you wanna see how it’ll look on you?”

a sharp scoff flows from your lips. 

he can’t be serious. 

you really, really, really don’t. if anything, you want everything in the world except for that. you’d rather smash a glass bottle into little pieces and eat them one by one. you’d rather sit on satoru’s lap in a room full of other people. you’d rather jump in front of a moving train with explosives tied to your back.

— it’s so frilly. 

you almost couldn’t believe it, yourself. when he barged into the room, cardboard box in hand, fresh from the mail; all while wearing an excited grin, foreboding, but you were too mesmerized by it to even notice. 

it wasn’t anything out of the ordinary, so you didn’t think much of it. satoru buying you gifts is not in any way unusual, even and especially if you tell him not to — and usually, it’d be a sweet occasion. the kind of moment you can soak in, drink up, and then recall fondly for the rest of the week. 

every single detail is worth cherishing. how excitedly he always opens it up, eager for your reaction, and how you always thank him, no matter what it is. sincerely, because satoru can be awkward with his affection, but his love bleeds through in moments like these.

from expensive, well-kept bouquets to little flowers on the side of the road; from thought-out gifts to little trinkets; no matter what it is, the sentiment remains the same.

(this made me think of you. i want you to have it. 

i remembered you mentioning this brand. i love you.)

a way for satoru to show his love, without overwhelming himself or you. a way of easing him into it, when everything is still just so new to him. 

buying you whatever catches his eye is the perfect solution, according to satoru. and it exasperates you, sometimes, when you come home to five amazon packages right outside your doorstep — but deep down you know it’s more for him than you. because it makes him happy, to be able to, allowed to show his love for you in ways like this. in normal ways, easy ways, that say more than his words ever could. 

(being granted the luxury of making you happy. of loving you, even if satoru doesn’t think he’s very good at that, just yet. but he is good at impulse buying things he knows you’d like; so that’ll have to do, for now.)

which is why you couldn’t help but let his infectious joy seep into your bloodstream, trickling its way through your veins with a sweet kind of fervour. couldn’t help but smile, a tender curl of your lips, in tandem with his cute little grin. couldn’t help but grow a little bit excited, as he opened the package — 

to reveal a cutesy, frilly, maid outfit.

— and then your mind screeched to a halt. 

the look on your face must have been something special, horrified and flustered in equal measure. almost in disbelief, as he immediately began to gush about the outfit in his hands. look at the bows, isn’t it cute? god, you’re going to look so pretty. i mean, you always do, obviously, but —

you weren’t really listening. all your mind could do was spin in circles, trying to get some read on the situation, but it was just no good. he genuinely, thoroughly, truly and sincerely expected you to put on a goddamn maid outfit. 

if he had bought it for himself, then maybe you would've been at least a little bit excited. you’re sure he'd look good in it; with those big blue eyes of his, that cute, happy grin. so good that your heart would probably combust, a little. melt through the floorboards. 

but no — he wanted you to wear it. 

and despite your instant, firm protests, he just will not give it up. your boyfriend is a stubborn man, so it’s no surprise, but it’s still enough to irk you.

”satoru, for real. no! i’m not wearing it!”

”but you’d look so good,” he whines, loud and grating as he inches closer to you. still holding the dress up like a prize; you back away, instinctively, like it’ll burn if you touch it.

”i don’t care! it’s a maid outfit! why the hell would i ever wear it?” 

sunglasses seated at the bridge of his nose, satoru allows you to catch a glimmer of his eyes — an effective method of persuasion. he definitely knows their power, and he’s definitely flaunting them for the sole purpose of making you falter. that manipulative scumbag.

the fact that it actually works makes you even angrier, though.

a sharp turn of your head, and your gaze falls on the windowpane, lingering there as you grumble under your breath. he’s so annoying. you’re growing more and more flustered by the minute, too. 

”— because you love me?” 

satoru tilts his head, white locks of hair following the movement. soft and silky, nice to run your fingers through, but you chase the thought away as soon as it enters your subconscious. he looks almost hypnotizing under the sunlight, with the golden rays illuminating his features, smoothing over the contours of his face — as if the sun was made solely to shine on his skin.

and ah, you think, there we go. satoru’s classic tactic; using your love for him as a bargaining chip, pouting down at you like a kicked puppy. you like to picture his eyes all watery and glassy, everytime he tries it, as if he’s some rejected cartoon-mascot. so silly. 

valiantly, you fight off the temptation to smile, gracing him with another little scoff instead. shooting him an unimpressed look, a tiny raise of your eyebrow. ”that won’t work on me.”

”aww, come on,” he almost coos, inching closer still. ”don’t you love me? my sweetiepie? my cute lil’ mochi?” 

(he’s getting bolder with the petnames, you note. as if that’d change anything. they’re so cheesy it makes you recoil.)

”obviously.” you deadpan, trying your best not to let affection seep into the words. but you see satoru’s lips curl up, anyway. ”i’m still not wearing it, though. sorry.”

satoru sighs. heavy, exasperated — dare you say defeated? for a second, you delude yourself into thinking he might actually give in, for once, spare you both the trouble — 

until he falls to the floor, knees hitting the soft flooring with a loud thud. awfully dramatic. he clasps his hands together as if to beg and plead, a starved dog at your feet, and gazes up at you with newfound determination.

”please, baby — i’m begging you,” he groans, voice sad and pained, agonized, like you just threatened to break up with him. silly, silly man.

”don’t grovel.” a sigh drops from your lips as the pads of your fingers go to massage your temples. soothing what you’re almost sure is an incoming headache.

and he makes a certain noise, almost a whimper, like you just kicked him in the gut. you glance down at him as if to signal really? with your eyes, lips parting to speak — 

but your breath only hitches in your throat, and no sound comes out.

satoru’s eyes are almost teary. peeking out from behind his shades, big and glassy, eyelashes dewy with what you know are just crocodile tears. he’s far too skilled at it for his own good, though — maybe you should be supporting his acting career, instead of the weird teacher-slash-sorcerer thing he’s got going on.

and you’re weak, you realize, terribly so. because something deep within your chest constricts, at those sad eyes, heart squeezed painfully, and when you speak you note that your voice sounds a lot softer. 

”satoru,” you sigh, again; more resigned this time, a little fatigued. missing the way his eyes glint at the sound, as if sensing an opportunity. ”really. i’m sorry i wasted your money, but it’s just… not happening. okay?” 

attempting to sound delicate, your voice settles on a soothing tilt, like an adult speaking to a tantrum-throwing child. hoping it’ll be enough to make him falter even slightly. 

it isn’t, of course; if anything, his determination only grows. 

”even just for a short while?” he tries, voice sweet and pliant. all daisies and sunbeams, tailormade to tug at your heartstrings. ”just an hour or so! then i’ll be satisfied.”

”an hour? no way!” you scoff.

and this time, you don’t miss it. from behind those shades, a certain glimmer of something flickers through his irises — something keen and observant. a certain dread crawls its way down your spine.

”so it’s fine if it’s less?” he grins, changing tactics, smooth and decisive. ”half an hour. that’s as low as i’ll go.”

”oh my god.” an exhale, drawn out and exhausted, from the very depths of your chest. ”satoru. toru. no. i’m not wearing it at all. this isn’t an auction.”

”but it could be,” he purrs, still on his knees. it makes him look a little bit disturbed. ”c’mon. why are you getting so shy? guess what — i’ll even settle for twenty minutes. just for you.”

oh, he’s just awful. you want so badly to be mad at him, and that teasing, smug, shit-eating little smirk of his — but you can’t. 

not when he looks so effortlessly pretty, bathed in the light of the sun, surrounded by a mellow glow so tender it makes him look something like an angel. not when he’s acting so characteristically himself, so stubborn and infuriating and entirely impossible not to love. 

another sigh. you’re a little surprised you have enough air left in your lungs to breathe it out, and as much as you hate to admit it, you’re beginning to grow just a bit tired of the back and forth. ”i’m not shy,” you huff. ”i just don’t want to. it won’t look good on me, anyway.”

satoru blinks. genuine surprise shines in his eyes, for a second, like you caught him off guard. ”huh? of course it will. why wouldn’t it?”

a pause. gnawing at your bottom lip, you avert your gaze, trying to find the words. ”it’s just… tacky,” you settle on. ”it’ll look weird.”

”it won’t! you’ll look so cute!”

another huff, as your dispassionate, bored gaze meets his. ”and how do you know that?”

satoru's answer is instantaneous. ”you always look cute. just wanna see how you look in this,” he chirps, brandishing the outfit with barely contained excitement. thoroughly giddy. ”when i saw it, i knew it’d look adorable on you. and i’m never wrong!”

a soft pout plays at your lips, in the wake of his eager sincerity. barely noticeable, just a little embarrassed, but it’s there. and satoru’s seen it, finally — the road to victory. he knows he can win this, if he’s smart about it.

”i just wanna see you in it. just for a second. please? pretty please?” he tilts his head, tantalizing, showing off the blue of his eyes and the curl of his lips. ”then i’ll never ask you for anything again. promise!”

”okay, that’s a lie and we both know it.”

the grin that blooms on your lips is a mistake, you quickly realize, because satoru interprets any sign of joy on your face as positive approval. his determination grows.

”yeah, yeah… but i mean it! i won’t bother you if you just wear it once. just once!” he puts a single finger up, to emphasize the point. ”just wanna see my precious baby all frilly and cute. won’t you indulge me, oh my dearest?”

he’s grinning, now, all soft and teasing. it’s more breathtaking than he’ll ever understand. he’ll never even come close to understanding how gorgeous he is, like this — when there’s no one around to perform for, when he can just be himself. when it’s just you, and satoru, and the feeling of having all the time in the world.

(even if you don’t.)

and you know your face must be flushed, a soft cherry red, as your gaze falls to the floor. the heat on your cheeks and neck, the pitter patter of your heartbeat; you feel it all. 

and it’s embarrassing, to find yourself so fervently twisted around someone’s finger — to find that you don’t even really mind. being wrapped around satoru’s finger isn’t so awful, all things considered. it’s a scary thought, for sure, but he’d never abuse the privilege. probably.

— a sigh. 

you still don’t want to wear it. you really don’t. it’s just awful. tacky, and embarrassing, and overall unpleasant. 

… but if it’ll get him to stop nagging you like this… 

and if it’s just for a short while…

silence, only silence, spilling into the sunkissed air. outside your apartment, the sky melts into a buttery orange hue. an intense contemplation is etched into your eyes, and satoru takes note of it; opting to put the final nail in the coffin. his very last bid.

”fifteen minutes. then you’re —”

”ten minutes,” you cut him off. sounding just a tad exhausted — resigned to your fate. 

and satoru doesn’t even bother trying to hide his excitement. suddenly beaming, he shoots up to his feet, and it causes you to jolt. ”perfect,” he grins, holding the dress out toward you. a little too eager for your liking.

”— but seriously. i’m only wearing it once. never again,” you tilt your head. ”got it?” satoru just nods, happily, so excited he’s practically jumping up and down — and despite everything, you still can’t find it in you to be angry. 

he looks so earnestly giddy.

eyes brimming with suspicion and weariness, your hands reach out to take it into your arms; the puffy dress, the frilly headwear, and the black thigh highs. you’re surprised he didn’t invest in a pair of shoes, while he was at it. just to complete the set.

(you decide not to comment on it, knowing he’d have some poor, overworked shoemaker on the phone within seconds.)

”need my help putting it on?” he purrs, face suddenly very close to yours — and the sudden stutter of your heartbeat sparks a hitch of your throat. desperate to cover it up, you shoot him a hefty glare.

”oh, shut up,” you hiss, but satoru only grins wider. soft little giggles flowing from his lips, like a schoolgirl teasing her upperclassman. silly.

a heavy hesitance rests on your features, as you give the outfit another chance. judgemental eyes trailing over the bows and frills, giving it a thorough look, until your lips curl down into a soft frown. it’s not that bad, but…

”it’s kinda ugly,” you lie, decisively.

”really? i think it’s cute, though.” 

”yeah, ’cause you have no taste.” a click of your tongue. ”what’s so great about maid outfits, anyway? i don’t see the appeal.”

satoru smiles. carefree, amused — still very much teasing. ”well, we’re about to find out,” he chirps.

you give him a look, eventually giving way to a soft exhale. ”fine — but only ten minutes. at most.” a pause, as you stop to think. what else? ”oh, and no taking pictures.”

”— i’m taking pictures.”

…

the exasperated look you send his way doesn’t seem to phase satoru even in the slightest. he continues to smile at you, unbothered, soft around the edges, and you know you’re not winning this one either.

”… fine,” you sigh. ”but — not too many, okay? and you aren’t allowed to show anyone, either.”

”of course not,” he scoffs, almost offended. ”as if i’d let anyone else see you like that.”

stuck between feeling relieved and put off, you settle on simply letting it go. and satoru continues to speak, reassuringly, glossy lips shining in the sunlight as they part.

”rest assured, baby,” he hums, a melodic lilt to his sugarsweet voice. ”this stays between us. i swear on my honour.”

you snort. ”like you’ve got any of that.”

”mean. anyway — c’mon. i can’t wait any longer.” before you can think to protest, he’s ushering you away in the direction of the bathroom, big hands heavy on your shoulders as they push you. still hesitant, you make no move to resist.

(what have you gotten yourself into?)

with one final sigh, your fingers curl around the doorknob, outfit hanging off your arm. not before sending one final glance back at satoru, reinstating your conditions. ”just this once. then you’re selling it. or burning it.”

”yes, yes — you have my word,” he promises. before you can narrow your eyes, he pushes you forward, gently; bouncing excitedly on the balls of his feet. ”go on, i’m waiting!”

”yeah, yeah…”

the door closes behind you with a soft thud, and the reality of the situation begins to finally dawn on you. the maid outfit weighs heavy on your heart, but light in your arms — you gaze down at it with pure contempt. it’s not like you have a choice, though. satoru won’t let you wriggle away from this one. and maybe, just maybe, a part of you wants to indulge him, after all.

(his smile shone so brightly, in the light of the sun.)

and it’s almost cautious, the way you begin to dress yourself; first the thigh highs, black and silky, then the outfit itself. pulling it over your head, your arms sneaking through the openings. 

it’s a perfect fit. 

a second passes. you stop to think, brows furrowing in suspicion — did the little bastard measure you? just to make sure he got it exactly right? he has been rummaging through your closet more than usual, recently, but you didn’t think much of it. over the years, you’ve conditioned yourself not to question the things that he does. that sneaky, sneaky man.

after putting on the headwear, you finally lift your gaze, tentative and slow — to take a peek at your own reflection. the flush on your face stands out, a contrast to the black and white colour scheme of the outfit. 

and you can’t help but exhale, a little exasperated.

it’s so… frilly. there are frills on the sleeves, on the shoulderpads, on the skirt, on the hems… everywhere. little bows litter the surface of the smooth fabric, a big one attached to the collar, and several smaller ones across the sleeves. 

and as much as you loath to admit it — it is kind of cute. 

still, you can’t shake the feeling that you’re only embarrassing yourself. it’s hard not to think, when a maid outfit is staring into your soul through the mirror — and you just so happen to be wearing it.

(what the hell are you even doing?)

a low groan slips from your lips, and you crouch down, to bury your face in your knees. the flush of your cheeks is beginning to spread towards the tips of your ears, growing hotter by the minute. satoru’s about to see you like this, of all people. how on earth will he react?

(what if he thinks it looks weird, too?) 

”i’m still waiting!” a voice suddenly exclaims, sing-songy and sweet, and closer than you realized. has he just been standing there and waiting in silence, this whole time? of course he has.

”just —” you croak out, words a little strangled. ”just… give me a minute.”

satoru lets out a high-pitched whine, cheek pressed against the cold wood of the door. ”but i’ve been waiting so long already!” he complains, pouting, the urge to see you growing unbearable. impatience tugging at his heart, so excited he can barely pull himself together.

(all he can think of is you, you, you.)

curling up into a little ball, you attempt to swallow the bundle of nerves in the back of your throat — but that jittery, feather-light feeling of your heartbeat just won’t go away. it makes you feel a little paralyzed.

you're actually, genuinely, sincerely about to go show off a goddamn maid outfit. what the hell.

when you finally grasp control over your vocal cords and part your lips to speak, the voice that spills out into the air sounds more than a little meek. but you can’t quite bring yourself to care, overcome by a heart-tingling nervosity and the heat of your skin.

 ”… i don’t want to.”

satoru pauses. 

he can picture you, in his mind’s eye; the way you must look, right now. clad in frills and a cute little skirt, face flushed red and embarrassed, as you shift from foot to foot. and it takes concentrated effort, to bite back the coo that threatens to crawl up his throat — but he knows it’s still not too late for you to change your mind. if he wants to see you, he needs to be careful. so he tactfully opts not to tease you.

”come on, angel,” he soothes, instead. voice smooth like honey, like coffee with cream and too much sweetener. ”don’t be embarrassed.”

you stay silent, still attempting to suffocate the tinge of humiliation in the depths of your chest. so satoru continues. ”just come on out, hm? might as well get it over with. then you won’t have to think of it again.”

a moment passes.

”… do i have to?”

the corners of his lips curl up.

ah, you’re so cute. all embarrassed, almost childish, in the way you’re still trying to be difficult; and satoru just indulges you, all too eager to get you to show yourself to him. ”yes, you do,” he coos. ”be good f' me and come on out, okay?”

a couple moments pass. eerily silent, growing second by second. the only sound that fills the air is that of satoru’s soft breathing, the distant whirring of the ceiling fan.

until finally, he hears the squeak of the bathroom floor. you stand up, turning to glance at your reflection in the mirror one last time, before hesitantly reaching for the doorknob.

it’s slow, the way you open the door, agonizingly so — pushing at it slightly and dragging the movement out. and you can feel satoru’s presence, right behind it, as he takes a step back to give you space. when you finally step over the threshold, you adamantly refuse to meet his gaze.

(satoru’s breath hitches in his throat.)

there you stand, gaze stubbornly averted, expression flustered and mildly annoyed. cheeks dusted a dark cherry-red, that crawls towards the tips of your ears as you fidget with your frilly, oversized sleeves. they’re dressed in little bows, awfully cute, and so is the skirt — short, but not enough to expose the skin of your thighs above the thigh highs. you still squirm a little, thighs pressed together. 

and then, of course, the big bow on your collar to complete the look. pink in colour, a stark contrast to the whites and blacks of the remaining outfit.

after a moment passes with nothing but pure silence, your lips part to speak. doing anything you can to stop yourself from looking over at the man in front of you, afraid of what you’ll see. ”i don’t think it suits me,” is muttered, a tiny huff. ”… and i still don’t see the appeal, by the way.”

— but satoru doesn’t answer. 

he just stares. uncharacteristically silent, in a way you’re wholly unaccustomed to. enough so that you find yourself gnawing at your bottom lip, fidgeting with the hem of the skirt, hoping the smooth texture will soothe your nerves a little. the beating of your heart resounds in your ears, sending blood flowing through your veins with excited pumps.

the silence festers, and all you can do is let it grow, your nervosity thickening with it — until it’s just too much to bear. 

(ahh, you knew it. it really does look weird, doesn’t it? that’s to be expected. 

still, you can’t help but feel just slightly dejected.) 

”… why aren’t you saying anything?” 

the little mumble comes out sounding embarrassed, and maybe just a little defeated, too. but satoru doesn’t hear it. as your gaze falls on the man in question, slowly, you take in his expression with a frown on your face — and realize that he isn’t just keeping quiet. 

he’s completely stunned. 

no matter how hard you stare, you can’t seem to get a good read on his expression. he’s just standing there, face completely blank, eyes entirely obscured by the black of his shades. the light streaming in through the glass of the windows has shifted its course, falling away from the two of you — but you still see the vague, red tinge crawling up his neck. 

and as soon as you spot it, satoru begins his descent.

crouching down to the floor, silently, he brings his hands up to cover his face. feet against the ground with his knees folded, pressed against his chest, stilling as he inhales sharply. shades seated on top of his head, pushed up by his hands when he buried his face in them. a groan drops from his lips, muffled by the skin of his palms — but you can hear it clear as day.

”hold on, just… give me a minute…” he finally croaks out, words somehow tiny. almost shy. 

upon closer inspection, you realize your eyes weren’t deceiving you — there really is a red hue to his neck, one you aren’t used to seeing on him. strawberry-tinged dust, staining his smooth skin, the tips of his burning ears. satoru actually looks flustered, for once. and your heart can’t help but flutter.

— he thinks he might actually, genuinely die.

it’s a wonder, he thinks, that he managed not to fall to his knees the very moment he laid eyes on you. all dolled up; frilly and cute, in his own words, though they don’t come even close to properly describing how adorable you look right now. with your flushed face, shy eyes, and all those little frills and bows adorning your dress. rendering him speechless, clogging up his throat with pure unbridled love. a mouthful of honey, too sweet for even him to swallow.

god. god. he really, really needs to pull himself together.

crouched down like this, face hidden behind his hands, he can physically feel himself grow more and more flustered. senses invaded by the sound of his heartbeat, deep and visceral, until it’s all he can hear — he knew you were going to look cute, obviously, but he was seriously underestimating you. your cuteness is lethal. 

even just the sight makes him weak in the knees. even just the thought of you makes him feel a little like his heart is attempting to break out of his chest. hurling itself at his ribcage with ferocious resolve, like he could keel over and die of heart failure at any given moment. he’s pleasantly surprised that he’s managed to suppress the loud squeal his body keeps trying to let out, honestly.

and while satoru struggles with his deep, internal turmoil, all you can do is watch. looking down at him with wide eyes, as his skin flushes a bright pink, like little chrysanthemums blooming from his neck up to his ears. 

yeah, you think, there’s no doubt about it. satoru is flustered. it’s not a side of him you get to see very often, so you can’t help but be just slightly caught off guard. staring at him silently, until you snap out of it, eyes simmering with something soft and delighted.

he’s so cute.

(and maybe, just maybe — it makes you want to tease him, a little bit.)

so you crouch down, facing him with your knees against your chest, jaw resting on your crossed forearms as you gaze at him. he’s still not looking at you, face hidden behind his palms, shying away from your view.

and then you sigh. the sound catches his attention, soft — and just a little bit dejected.

”… you’re the one who wanted me to wear it,” your lips curl down into a pout, ”and now you won’t even look at me?”

satoru stiffens. 

(you sound sad. you sound disappointed.)

slowly, he parts his fingers, desperate to soothe you — blue eyes peeking out through the gaps, as if the sight of you could blind him. he then proceeds to move his hands, tentative, laboured, like he’s dragging heavy weights off his body. like it’s a struggle. 

with his face finally exposed, all flushed and pretty, bright azure eyes stare at you; brimming with pure adoration. 

satoru exhales, almost shaky. he has to take another moment to simply look at you, as if drinking in every inch of your expression. memorizing every corner of the face he’s grown to love so much.

a moment passes. then two.

then, he practically pounces on you — engulfing you like a tidal wave, trapping you in his big arms as they go to curl around your waist. shades falling off at the impact, hitting the floor with a soft thunk.

”you’re killing me,” he whines, loud and right by your ear. nuzzling into you, squeezing you like he’s a puppy with a chew toy. ”you’re so, so, so cute. d’you want me to have a heart attack?”

a hitch of your breath. that’s all you can manage, utterly failing to keep up with him as he presses you up against his chest. rocking you back and forth in his embrace, smearing open mouthed kisses across your skin; whining and murmuring about how adorable you look. 

a flurry of warmth, of love, of something a little too precious for words. something distinctly satoru, that makes you forget about everything else — as if the world stops spinning somewhere outside of his arms. as if that’s where you belong.

all you can do is indulge him. maybe you’re spoiling him a little too much, but it feels nice; letting him drown you in his overwhelming affection. the thought of creasing the dress doesn’t even seem to cross his mind, as he squeezes the life out of you.

evidently, satoru suffers from an acute case of cuteness aggression. 

”so adorable,” he murmurs, leaving wet kisses on your cheeks. his exaggerated mwahs make you feel just a tad shy. ”my little sweetheart. all dressed up for me.” 

squirming in his hold, he only brings you closer, smothering you in his warm embrace. the slightly erratic beating of his heart is all you can hear, with your cheek squished against his chest. arms keeping you nice and still, lips lingering over that one ticklish spot behind your ear. 

a little giggle slips from your lips, and satoru feels himself smile; wide and giddy, boyish and adoring. nuzzling into the comfort of your chest, soft fabric brushing against his skin, a low whine escapes his throat. ”can't take it. wanna put you in my pocket.”

”your pocket?” a grin blooms on your lips, words dripping with honeyed amusement. satoru grins right back.

”my pocket,” he hums, approvingly. ”you’re just so cute and small. gotta keep you close, so i don’t lose you.”

a huff, lighthearted. 

suddenly, the grip around your midriff tightens — and you’re hoisted up, stumbling a little as satoru lets go of you. still holding onto you by your wrists, softly, delicately, as if you’re made of glass. when you lift your head, all you can see is his satisfied little grin, and the twinkle of his eyes.

your heart flutters. 

satoru gazes at you, silently, still drinking you in. every second spent staring into the brightness of your eyes fills his heart up just a little more; colourful, heart-shaped candies, scooped up and poured into the hole in his chest. patching it right back up, so effortlessly sweet that it makes him want to pluck every star from the sky and offer them at your feet. 

”alright,” he breathes, taking a step back. breaking the delicate silence, a little dance between him and time. fingers still curled around your wrist. ”do a twirl for me.”

a humoured scoff. ”hell no.”

”aw, come on! you gotta pose for the photo, baby.”

before you know it, satoru’s got his phone out — and it’s aimed right at you. by the time you notice it, you’re fairly certain he’s already managed to snap a couple pictures. so all you can do is sigh, in faux exasperation.

”c’mon, c’mon,” he coos. ”give me a smile, pretty.”

a roll of your eyes, as you bite your lip to muffle a soft bout of laughter. it doesn’t really work. ”i’m good.”

satoru seems unaffected by your words, pulling back from your touch reluctantly; just so he can make a show out of playing the cameraman, switching between elaborate positions and taking pictures from angle after angle. somehow, you get the feeling he’s forgotten your request to keep the pictures to a minimum.

(he looks like he’s having fun, though. so you let it slide. just this once.)

”god. you’re way too cute for your own good, you know that?” he murmurs, leaning down to take another picture. and it flusters you, how smoothly the words slip from his lips, how it seems like he barely even has to think about them at all. 

it’s a little embarrassing, in a heart-fluttering kind of way. but you do your best to hide it.

”you’re a sap,” is all you say, soft smile playing at your lips. 

”and you’re adorable,” satoru grins. 

then he slips his phone into his back pocket, satisfied with the collection, and grabs your hand.

his fingers curl around yours, softly — and then he lifts it up. bringing it to his lips. they’re warm, as he kisses across your knuckles, the tips of your fingers. soft as a feather, tickling your skin. 

(as if he’s whispering psalms under his breath. as if he’s worshipping you.)

then he tilts his head, eyes gazing at you sweetly. sweeter than fresh mandarin slices, splotches of marmalade, his favorite caramel fudge. and his eyes crinkle, crow’s feet and dimples peeking out as he smiles, an easygoing kind of joy blooming on that pretty face of his — youthful, boyish. it suits him more than anything.

his voice comes out smooth, awfully coaxing. so very easy to give in to, paired with that breathtaking grin. 

”one tiny twirl?” he asks, politely.

he’s so annoying. 

(but you’re far too in love to say no.)

so with a single roll of your eyes, and a soft little scoff, you relent. indulging him once more, just one more time. just one little twirl.

satoru feels his heart squeeze painfully, deep within his chest, as he watches you spin around. skirt and frills ruffled by the movement. just once, a soft little twirl with your fingers intertwined. far too precious for his heart to take.

when you stop, just a tiny bit dizzy, he leans in, and the kiss he leaves on your forehead is soft. chaste, but it still pulls a blissful sigh from the back of your throat. satoru’s lips curl up against your skin, before he pulls back — eyes almost overflowing with affection.

”cutie.”

you blink. 

averting your gaze, flustering a little under the weight of his love-filled eyes, all you can do is emit a soft little huff. embarrassed, as it flows from your lips. but it only makes satoru’s smile grow further.

”okay, okay. you’ve had your fun.” you clear your throat. ”time’s up.”

suddenly, satoru’s eyes fill with something akin to dread — nose crinkling, just barely, a sign of his displeasure. ”noooo,” he whines, draping his arms around you. tugging you close. ”just a little more? please? pretty please?”

”nope! we said ten minutes. no take backs.”

”can’t i have an extension? since i’m your favorite?” satoru pouts, puppy dog eyes in full force. only this time, they don’t work as well as he’d hoped.

”nope,” you repeat, popping the p. ”sorry.” another whine buzzes right by your ear, and you smile. 

”and then we’re burning it.”

”noooo!” 

”sorry, but it’s gotta go.” you bite back a soft grin. satoru sounds agonized, voice dripping with grief, and it makes your heart dance with barely contained laughter.

”but then you can’t wear it anymore, baby…”

”that’s kinda the point, toru.”

”but you’re so cute in it,” he pouts, bringing you closer still. squeezing at your waist and rubbing his cheek against the top of your head. ”it’d be such a waste if you never wore it again, don’tcha think?”

he’s trying his best, you can tell — attempting to make you falter, coax you into wearing it just a little longer. but for today, you’re done indulging him.

”well, too bad.” nuzzling into his neck, your tone settles on a firm tilt; decisive, as you nip at his skin. just a little teasing. ”i said i’d never wear it again, and i meant it.”

a moment passes. maybe it’s the warmth of your lips on his skin, or maybe he can tell you aren’t budging — whatever the case, satoru finally seems to relent. an exhale tumbles from his tongue, deep and drawn out. ”fineee,” he drawls. ”i’ll just buy you a new one.”

”i won’t wear it. i’ll just get angry.”

”at lil’ old me? really?”

”really really,” you click your tongue. ”if you love maid outfits so much, why don’t you wear one yourself?” a beat. ”it’d look good on you.”

satoru perks up, suddenly. pulling away so his eyes can meet yours, bright and teasing, glazed over with something excited. ”oh?” he purrs. ”you wanna see me in one, huh? so bold, baby.”

a scoff slips from your lips, sharp but tinged with laughter. ”well, it’s only fair, right?” grinning up at him, your hand reaches out to smooth away his bangs. fingertips trailing across the expanse of skin, touch so very tender that his eyes flutter shut. ”i think you’d pull it off better than i ever could, anyway.”

a hum buzzes in his throat, seconds ticking by slowly; a dance with him and time. an attempt to prolong the softness of the moment.

”hmm… well, i’ll consider it.” just barely holding back a smile, he leans into your touch. ”you gotta wear it with me, though. we can buy a matching set!”

”that makes no sense,” you huff, with a raise of your brow. ”i’ve already worn it once, so next time, it’s gotta be all you.”

”sorry, baby, but you need to do it too.” he cradles you close, smoothing a palm down your spine, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. chest rumbling with the smooth timbre of his voice, words rich with teasing fondness. ”i’m too shy to do it by myself.”

and you really, really wish you could be angry with him — but it’s just impossible. 

satoru is just way too lovable, smile far too sunny and warm for you not to melt under. and his caress says more than words ever could, light and doting, careful and loving; like how a believer cups a handful of holy water. as if you could slip from his grasp at any moment, so he has to keep you extra close.

in the end, all protests and complaints die on your tongue. you only laugh, soft and breathy, filling the air with a fondness so palpable you can almost taste it. bordering on something close to a scoff, but never quite getting there. 

eventually, satoru does — begrudgingly — let you change out of the outfit. whining a little, sulking a tad, before brightening right back up again. like clockwork, the sun peeking out after a rain shower, the calm after the storm. always that same happy smile, wrapping you around his little finger.

satoru, in all his glory; your very own pocket of sunshine. annoying, stubborn, thoughtful — 

and yours, wholly and thoroughly.

(while you’re busy gazing at him adoringly, satoru grumbles under his breath. contemplation painted on his features, as his mind spins in circles. frills, bows, lace…

what kind of design would make him look the prettiest for you?)

[yonaioana]

Okay first of all! I loved that request where is God reader from ennead! So!

What IS relationship with Egypt Gods with reader? The God of festivals and happiness but real role is the God of freedom? So as I read that request it says that he DID have good relationship with them(I think) because he was in Egypt but not anymore? And they never talk anymore as he moved from Egypt where all god mostly where, why did he move away from them? Did he knew what will happend?

So my request is about male reader God of festivals and happyness/ God of freedom.

How would they react to seeing reader once more? But there is plot twist! The reader is not kinda happy about seeing them.( I love angst, dont mind me)

That all!

Heeey im back, im sorry I was gone all this time I moved, finished highschool and now im struggling to finish my first year of college but im back and im trying to get through my entire inbox and write for everything I missed, I will also update the masterlist with a few new fandoms. This is a short one i still had in my drafts. Kisses!!!

I guess that as the god of freedom and happiness ennead is not the best place to live. Since all the gods have to obey Ra and her kinda liking the suffering of everyone else cause she sees it as entertainment would not sit well with a god who's entire concept is boring to her.

I dont think that you would have beef with any of them other than Ra and maybe Osiris if you try to call out his bluff of being the victim and all that. You could have some trouble with Seth if you tried to opose him in his early years when he ruled Egipt but i dont think he is the kind to try and hurt other gods. Cause he tried to hurt Isis and Horus only because of some prophecy not because he really hated them. So my guess is that you either tried to vouch for someone who was in trouble or did something to upset Ra but she just pushed you aside and continued as if you were not there. Or you found out about some of the things Osiris did to Seth and you tried to tell everyone but because nobody really liked Seth they only listened to what Osiris said and called you a liar, ultimately pushing you aside. So you got sick and tired of them and left.

Anyway back to the present Horus and Anubis actually like you cause they're not as old as the other gods so either they were not born when you left or they were too young to remember. If we take the first route Ra will not be verry pleased to see you but if we take the second one Isis and Osiris are the ones in a sour mood.

Lets say that after you left you found yourself a village on the other side of Egipt where it was like a port so there was a big mix of cultures and instead of asserting dominance as a god you just lived among them helping out and being nice to everyone. Of course horus while searching for Seth could happen to accidentally find your little comunity and asks Isis about it wich leads to the others finding you and dragging you back to explain yourself and interogate you on the "where is seth" matter. While at first you were happy thinking they came to visit it was auickly shut down when chains apeared around your neck, wrists and ankles and you were being dragged away from your home and people back to ennead. If you knew about what happened to seth osiris will try to keep you quiet one way or another, gods forbid you helped him escape or helped him while he was on the run with resources and hiding from the others, in the I feel like horus will try to take you with him against his mom's dissaproval to help him heal seth emotionally with your powers

[forestryfae]

silly hcs cus im sitting here waiting

the light has bimonthly bowling night for? morale???

idk its just rly funny imagining villains doing silly little actovities

bowling is the only game klarion doesnt cheat in (except poker and jenga and chess if you dare him)

i found this in my drafts i dont remember writing it

living for klarion making them all put teekl on one of their teams tho. she has a consistent highscore of 0 points but shes having fun

teekl just nudges the ball with her head until it starts to roll. it tends to get stuck in the gutter atleast eight times per game and it annoys the hell out of them every time but by god they are not invoking klarions cat wrath by complaining

ofc they ply in lexs private bowling alley. he doesnt remember building it but apparently he has one (klarion faked the papers neccessary to get it built and hes telling noone)

bowling night used to be hanging out and drinking night while discussing plans for world domination but it evolved into drinking and bowling and discussing world domination

queen bees lap is the only lap besides klarions teekl will sit in

ultra humanite has on many occasions gotten bowling balls stuck in the roof due to excessive force

whatever vandal is drinking, klarion wants. whatever klarion brought as a drink, everyone is too afraid to try.

this is very klarion centered but thats fine lol

[thatcheeseycandle]

(Current me here right before posting this, I yeah- I was a bit burnt out from a lot and I found this sitting in my drafts while looking through them. Might as well post it while I can)

//ITS ACTUALLY A GOOD MONDAY CAUSE ITS A HOISNY READING WOOOOOOOOO

TW FOR SPOILERS ON THE ENTIRETY OF HOISNY CHP. 4 BTW

wOO OKAY I'll be wishing that the notes aren't gonna jinx me LMAO

"He didn’t want to think about what had happened at the Great Race, though it was the only thing he could think about." Felt that feeling before hOLY GOSH

Diving head on with a fresh recap of the chapters before this with it's angst I suppose BEHHSWHDH but hey I'm not complaining SO YEAH CONTINUING ON

(insert me reading silently with some "oUGHS"s in the mix, I can't remember how I exactly felt about this bit but I remember that I was just sad for Thomas. Like my guy found out all his family was wiped out IN SECONDS right there and it was infront of A LOT of people.)

"What would Gordon say if he saw his friends divided?" Well considering a lot, it's not a thought to dwell on with the joyous of emotions unfortunately BEHSHDHDHSHS

(Okay yeah insert another silence with the only noises from me being "oh"s and "oUGH"s cause I don't know how to word how I felt but I just felt like my heart was melting but like in a way I felt sad for them)

"'Wait a minute-' Samuel started, suddenly coming to a realisation. 'The story of you falling into a mine, that’s true?!'"

'It was written about?!' Thomas screeched, his face going as red as James’s paint from embarrassment and both crews spontaneously started laughing." I LOVE THIS BIT OHMYGHAHAGAHSJXH

(Yet again, I couldn't find the words to describe my reaction for the rest of this considering my lungs kept deflating when I regained a bit of oxygen every sentence LMAO)

AAYYYY READING RWS LETS GOO

This whole bit, I love it so much like YEAHAHDJDHDH LETS GO THEYRE GONNA READ RWS and AND THEYRE GONNA HANG OUT WITH EACHOTHER (aka cope with their situations together LMAOCHDHSJ)

Okay people WE'RE AT THE STEAMWORKS NOW LETS GOOO

(Yet again, lost my words at this bit and my feelings were basically a combination of curiosity and sadness sneaking from the back of my mind aka I started slipping into that unbreakable trans whenever you read)

Ah crap okay Scot you better not slip your words on this (but hey I cant exactly blame him if he does considering that was HIS BROTHER)

(Okay seriously WHAT IS WITH ME PAUSING WITH MY WORDS IN THIS- Insert another silence with the only emotions in this being relatability and sadness)

Scot you aren't the only one to have a hard time sleeping now BHAAHSHXBJAJXH SO YEAH

(Seems like I was so shocked in this scene that I fORGOT TO WRITE MY REACTION TO IT But basically it was me being super shocked, my heart dropped, then needed minutes to process it before continuing on)

“No, it’s not silly. You’re going through a hard time right now and what you’re experiencing is valid.” SAY IT LOUDER FOR THE PEOPLE IN THE BACK AND SIDE HENRY‼‼

(Okay sorry for interrupting this reaction with my current notes but GOD I FORGOT TO WRITE DOWN A LOT OF REACTIONS. But from what I remember of this, I think I was just happy at the fluff that started to slither in. Thank God I'm finishing up this review the same day Chp. 5 comes out so I dont have to wait after this LMAO)

And RIGHT THERE FOLKS we end it off with a cliffhanger, except it's a nice cliffhanger! Very excited for the next chapter now that's built up to that

Yet again credits to Loraine ( @lorainedoesthings ) for releasing such a great chapter! Very excited to see what's to come in these coming weeks

[gumsnail682]

I seriously don't remember writing this? How long has this been sitting in my drafts?

This made me sad why did I write this?

(Unedited, I was just looking through my drafts when I found this lol.)

---

Ok I dont know why but the marble game from Squid Game popped into my head earlier and I was like "What if the Obey me Charecters were forced to play that against eachother and who would end up sacrificing themself?" So heres how I think it would go.

Lucifer and Satan, I wholeheartedly believe that Lucifer would lose on purpose but he'd do it in such a way that it looked like he was trying. Satan would know though, he'd know but he'd deny it, "Lucifer would never lose on purpose."

Mammon and Leviathan, I think Mammon would throw the game just like that one girl did (I cant remember her name, the one who just dropped the marble and didn't try at all.) Mammon would talk big about not losing but when it came down to it he couldn't bring himself to possibly get Levi killed. "Mammon what the hell was that!? Try again, DONT GIVE ME THAT LOOK YOU IDIOT! TRY AGAIN!"

Asmodeus and Solomon(Hes not immortal in this scenario), I feel they'd both try and sacrifice themselves but on the end Solomon would talk Asmo into being the victor, "How could the world possibly go on if you weren't in it?"

Beelzebub and Belphegor, Beelzebub no doubt about that. Beel would slip his marbles into Belphies pocket and when Belphie found out he would beg and cry for Beel to take them back but it would be far to late "NO! I cant lose you to! Beel please take them back, I cant- I CANT lose you too!"

Barbatos and Diavalo, Barbatos is Diavolos loyal servent who would follow any command the prince gave him. That being said Barbatos would question everything when Diavolo orders him to win the match.

[sincerely-sofie]

The finishing of this fanfic has left me with some pretty mixed emotions. On the one hand, I dont want it to end. It's such an incredible piece of work and even though I finally committed to reading it a few weeks ago, it already feels like such a significant part of my life. On the other hand, I'm a little glad that it's over. FAR from the sense it was bad (I'll steal your liver if thats how you interpret it) but moreso in the sense that it was like a good crying session. It's something that a lot of us (or I assume a lot of us) typically want to avoid even though we know its good for us, and satisfying after the fact. It's like catharsis in a way. Endings aren't always a great feeling in the moment, but it's something that we can look back on with a fondness.

I'm so glad I found this work. I'm being completely serious when I say that this fanfic, and the other content you make, has changed my life for the better. Its helped me reconnect with that love I have for creativity after nearly a decade of not making anything even though I wanted to. It's helped pulled me out of a few ruts of depression. It's helped me realize that I'm not actually emotionally stunted (per my own conclusions) and be more willing to cry instead of burying those feelings. In the past I would just, kill these kinda thoughts before they got far because of how much I wanted to avoid crying. Much less actually writing them down, or express them to someone else. But now, I've been crying the whole time I write this, and for the first time in, I think ever, I'm okay with that. I know we don't actually know each other, but you've genuinely helped me become a better person with the things you make. Thank you so much for everything you've done Sofie. hey look! I got your name right!

But enough about me. I feel like it's getting indulgent at this point. (I've gotten dehydrated with how much ive cried writing this and from what I can tell, you cry a lot more than I do. So go drink some water first, and then) I wanna hear your thoughts. What are your thoughts and feelings about your work being finished? Do you have plans to take a break from creative endevors for a while, or are you gonna keep going? Are you going to be expanding more on this and other au's, different fanworks or move into something completely your own? Whatever the case may be, I'm excited to see what more you are going to come up with!

From the bottom of my heart, and on behalf of everyone else, Thank you for everything.

It's so surreal to have posted that final chapter. I finished the first draft almost 100 days ago exactly, and I spent a number of days after completing it kind of adrift. I'd go to my computer every morning like I had during the month prior and sit down, ready to write, only to remember that I was actually supposed to be taking a break before I made the final edits.  It didn't click in my head that I had actually done it… until a couple weeks later when it hit me like a truck that I had an entire completed manuscript sitting in my Google Docs. I think I was making myself lunch at that moment, and I had to bolt to lie down on the floor and put my legs up against the wall because I was ready to pass out at the realization. 

This feels pretty similar. For me, The Present is a Gift— the main fanfic, at least— was finished in mid-January. But the process of uploading it and agonizing over what people thought of every passing update wouldn't be formally done until about 3 months later. It still hasn't clicked in my head that I won't be posting a new update once Tuesday rolls around. 

On the subject of taking a break— I've actually been taking a break, at least partway! I've barely written anything after I finished TPiaG's first draft, and I haven't drawn much “serious” art, for lack of a better word, since I started my blog. I've still been making things, yes, but scattered oneshots and sketchy pieces without solid lineart are not my typical fare. I'm usually a lot more “exact” with what I make— words fail me here— I hope I'm not being too vague! I might take a brief break as I finish up the winter semester, but that would be less a break from creating and more of an “OH MY WORD I NEED TO FOCUS ON NOTHING BUT PASSING THESE COURSES” kinda thing. 

TPiaG (along with its derivative AUs) is still very much a living project to me— there's a lot more stories the characters have in them, even if I struggle to envision a full-on sequel. I'm absolutely going to answer the asks relating to it that I've received over the months along with any I continue to receive, and if I get any ideas for comics or oneshots here and there, I'll make them. As for what's officially next up on the Sincerely Sofie menu, I'm planning to make a visual novel that's a lot more meaty than the last one I made. I'm not sure if it will be original or based on TPiaG— but a visual novel is the medium I'm planning on! 

I'm so overwhelmed by your kindness. I truly don't have any words. This project started off as something private to help distract me from a depressive episode and to process trauma, and it's become so much more. I'm so glad it was able to help you. Catharsis was the keyword for TPiaG— I wanted it to uproot difficult emotions and help people start to heal from them, but I never dreamed it would really help anyone but myself. So to hear it was able to provide you with that is unbelievably meaningful to me. 

I gave myself the goal somewhat recently to let myself cry whenever the urge strikes me. I used to go months without crying, and whenever I did shed tears, it was alone in my room while muffling the few sounds I accidentally let slip. I'm a natural crybaby, but I had schooled myself into thinking for a number of reasons that it was bad to cry— that it was selfish, or attention-seeking, or weak— so I've been trying to reclaim my teary-eyed identity. It's been difficult, but it's so freeing to let myself feel things fully. All of this is to say: let the tears fall. I've helped more people by crying than my stoicism ever did. 

Thanks again. I can't properly word my gratitude, but know that it's overwhelming :,>

[brybryby]

VERY LONG POST IM SORRY. DONT FEEL OBLIGED TO READ

HI. Alrighty, this has been on my mind for a while (ever since promotional content for Trials started being released).

I have a TON of analyses in the drafts, but I want to make this post before I release them for public viewing.

I know that I like to make goofy, light-hearted little fan animations and fan art of Outlast, but I think I need to start changing how I navigate through the content. After spending so much of my time deep diving and writing up these analyses, my eyes have been opened to just how much the franchise revolves around fucked up historical events. I feel that some of the stuff I've posted is tone deaf, or at least the way I posted about it is. And I think—for the most part—there's an understanding that I don't intend to be harmful, but I fear that the way I go about it **is**. (And obviously, action takes precedence over intent.)

For contextualization, when I initially got into Outlast at the age of 12, I was enthralled by the horror aesthetics and found a lot of the angsty gore to be cathartic. I felt so “taboo” and “scandalous” lol (especially as a developing child trying to understand myself amidst my puberty stage). I was young and—for lack of a better word—braindead in how I navigated the media. I was naive, mindless, ignorant, etc etc… Now that I have a deeper understanding of the narratives and historical implications/influences, I need to do better in how I interact with the franchise.

What am I getting at?

Pretty much, I'm working on being more careful with how I interact with the media. At the same time, I want the analyses that I post to be educational. And most importantly, please message me if I ever say some bullshit. Seriously. All I ever want to do with my life is to be a positive impact. I genuinely get upset if I cause harm to someone else. (One time I literally cried at a high school football game as a freshman because I thought I hurt someone else's feelings. It turned out they were faking it lmao. Then they started feeling bad and then that made me feel bad for crying and yea yea).

Seriously though. I know that my posts can get public outreach, and anything that has public outreach can be influential and have a good or bad impact. So please let me know if I do or say anything harmful or ignorant. I won't be offended. I don’t want to spread harmful stuff. There are many instances in my life where people sit me down to have meaningful conversations about shit I've said or done and how I can improve myself.

That said, I'll be posting more analyses and making my own syntheses of historical events. My next analysis post will be about Waylon's Asian-coding (specifically Korean-coding), how Trials actually supports this (using themes of US immigration), and why it is apparent to many Asian fans (including me, hehe).

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

That's pretty much it. But if you wanna stick around a bit further, I'll tell you my (excruciatingly long) story about how I got into Outlast :) along with how much it has invaded my brain and life :') and maybe get a little ~personal~ hehe

STORYTIME:

So, the game came out in 2013. Nearly 10 years ago. I was 12 at the time of its release. Let me tell you…this game was a HUGE impact in the horror community. HOLY. SHIT. It changed the way I looked at lockers and beds. I remember it being critically acclaimed (and rightfully so). It may have not been the most technical video game, but it certainly was a piece of art.

I remember commercials being shown everywhere. The trailer of beta Miles Upshur running and parkouring through Mount Massive while being chased by the tiny beta model of Chris Walker will forever be canonized as part my childhood. I remember specifically heading to the bathroom from my living room and my dad interrupting me to say “Hey! Check this out!” and then proceeding to play the trailer for my 12-year-old eyes. I was scared shitless.

Couple weeks later, Conan O'Brien featured Outlast in one of his segments of “Clueless Gamer” (yeah, my family and I used to watch Conan lol). I was very familiar with Slender and Amnesia, which were the 2 other games featured in this Halloween special, but this was the first time I REALLY got to check out Outlast.

Now, let me preface that during this time, internet culture was very interesting and even less safe than it is today. I had a ton of bad experiences on the internet during my childhood. But oddly (and embarrassingly), the emo/scene/horror/creepypasta culture was what brought me comfort amongst a sea of awful things you could find on the internet. It was probably unhealthy for my developing brain, but I indulged in a lot of angst that was presented with heavy gore and violence. And to be honest, looking at this kind of stuff at a young age helped me process a lot of my own personal shit that I experienced outside of the internet realm. (To be clear, I don't endorse this type of violence, and I don't endorse exploring the internet in the same way I did as a child—it was probably very unhealthy and I think it caused some early development issues.)

But nothing—and I mean NOTHING—scratched that itch more than the way Outlast did. I watched the finger cutting scene in Conan's “Clueless Gamer” and was fucking mortified. I was scared of the dark for weeks. But I remember spending that night in my bedroom looking at more Outlast content to get that cathartic fix to fill my emotional hole of…I don't know…morbid curiosity? I definitely felt shame at the time. I don't know. In recent years, I've been on this journey to process stuff I experienced during my childhood and I struggle to go about my middle-school/junior-high stage because…I don't know…puberty? Access to the internet? I once got bullied by a forum of adult men for posting fan art LMAO. I was 12 years old—I forgot what the fan art even was. ANYWAYS, yea. That was only one instance of my conglomeration of internet experiences. (Like many other peeps, I had to hide my gender & racial identity to preserve my sanity). Indulging in gore art was therapeutic and helped me release negative emotions in a non-harmful way. Horror-genre communities online have been mostly friendly and welcoming towards me. That's probably why I fell in love with Outlast as an art rather than a video game.

I wasn't in the fandom straight off the bat. I had other hyper fixations at times but I navigated through these other fixations with this personal “Outlast standard” where the art and fiction I consumed needed to be horror-themed, gorey, or angsty. And Outlast isn't solely to blame. I was into gore and angst before the game came out. It just so happened that it came out at such a perfect time in my life. (Horror made my queer self feel accepted)

This whole “Outlast standard” stuck with me throughout high school. Uh… this next bit of information may get a little personal. During my sophomore year, someone really important in my life passed away. Then I had this life-impacting thing happen during my junior year that changed how I perceived things forever (lol, this sounds so dramatic). I turned to art to help me process and yada yada… but y'know what really helped? You know what I turned to when I needed to “scratch the itch”? (I bet you'll never guess)

I finally considered myself a part of the Outlast fandom in 2018-2019. I was a high school junior/senior and I posted the Outlast-Outkast animation that got retweeted by Red Barrels. Had a lot of fun in the fandom during that time and it helped get my mind off of things. Also, I loved the fact that Waylon graduated from Berkeley. I was applying to colleges during this time and it made me romanticize Berkeley, lol. I ended up getting accepted. Had an awesome time. I recently graduated and got my Bachelor's. I'm very privileged and gracious for my experience. I spent a lot of grueling time and energy dedicated towards my education.

During my college years, a lot of the unprocessed shit from my childhood started resurfacing and it was becoming hard to navigate through life. I became really disconnected with people who were close to me. Art started to fall out of my life. Stuff happened. Got in touch with psychiatrists thanks to my college's free health services. I don't mean to downplay or normalize what happened, but I'll bring up that many college students deal with mental illness and depression (and this could be attributed to many things: moving away from family, student-life, financial pressure, pressure to secure jobs/internships, living alone for the first time, maturing into an adult, etc. etc.).

But I remember sitting alone in my studio apartment one weekend and started surfing Tumblr. I came across new Outlast fan art and it sparked my hyper fixation all over again. I re-read the comics and—OKAY THIS IS GONNA SOUND FUCKING RIDICULOUS—but I started jogging because Miles went on jogs LMAOOAKJDGHJAHKGFL. I finally picked up the pencil and started drawing again (after like…months) and drew Miles and Waylon flipping off Murkoff. And THAT was when I realized what the narratives of Outlast were actually about—FUCKIN' CAPITALISM AAUGGGHHH. MY LITTLE POOPOO BRAIN AT AGE 12 NEVER UNDERSTOOD THAT. AND NOW THAT I'M AN ADULT—NOW THAT I CAN BLATANTLY SEE MYSELF AND MY PEERS AS VICTIMS/PRODUCTS OF CAPITALISM—CAN FINALLY FIND SO MUCH VALUE AND MEANING IN THIS GAME HHHRHRJGHKSDKFGLAJKDG SAY W H A T IM GONNA *explodes*

Then a year later, I started drawing more and more again. Trials' promotional marketing was becoming more prominent. I started posting my fan art on Tumblr. Then I made the fanimation (thank you Mr. Baichoo, you're so awesome, I will forever be a fan of yours) and now here I am. Still fixated on this silly little game for nearly 10 years. WHEW.

I FEEL LIKE A SHRIMP CHIP. Anyways, thanks. I much needed to get this off my chest.

Also, hey! Just wanted to say thanks for the friendly and welcoming interactions in this space. It feels so much safer and more comforting than previous internet experiences I've had. Since 2013, the fandom has evolved a lot. In my opinion, it has evolved for the better. The resurgence of new fans bring such refreshing perspectives and fields of knowledge that haven't been influenced by some of the harmful internet culture that I grew up in. So truly, many thanks to y'all for making the fandom space a nicer place (especially for such a heavy game). Also, what the heck, everyone in the fandom is seriously so talented and artistic

Uh… fan art time? (old stuff/sketches I haven’t posted)

But seriously if you got this far, thank you

[robthewischmop]

Just normel shit I do

I have been sitting here for like 40 minutes trying to post something but when i start to actually write it just fells wrong and maybe I just need to post something to stop felling the dread of not having really posted any thing since the literal day that i made this account and just post some shit. But when ever i want to post some thing It just gets longer and longer until Its just a bunch of words that made sens a minute ago but now they just fell wrong [The fact that I go back when I am done and add my thoughts In the []things probably dosnt help with that] and I have no Idea what to do about this but to just make a post[That would have been a good idea six months ago because at that point I was just not using tumbler because If I actively used tumblet that I had to poste something and thats scary ] . Because it literally does not matter if or when or even what i post because no one I know even knows what tumbler is and even on tumbler almost no one will (probebly) see this and so anything that i do with this account really dos not mater. I think i just needed to hear/think/type that because I feel much better now. It is now 8.51 pm on the 25.05.2024(DD.MM.YYYY) I have been writing this since 7:45 pm or something (about 7pm if we count the 40 minutes) You dont need to read further anything under this isnt really important

First of all it fells so good to just type the last paragraph with the time and date again I will now try to compress every idea for a post that I had In those 40 minutes i mention into one or less sentences. Fist post idea I am have been executive dysfunctioning this account and originally wanted to make a post similar to this or my first post on the first of each month. [Just because you dont put a . or , in there dosnt mean its just one sentenc there are tow of them in there at least]

Second post idea My pc isnt good enough to run windows 11 and its sad about it

the 3ed post idea(how the fuck do you spell third (why do I know how to spell now and not like 10 seconds ago)) I have been here for a year now and I still have now Idea how tumbler works

fourth post idea how do I get other stuff than splatoon on my tumbler there is just to much of it[actually I lied to you this was a post idea that I had like 3 months ago its better now i fixed it]

Look what i found In my drafts before finishing up this post its such a nice small message that I wrote 10 months ago and if I actually remembered to post this the day after I wrote it maybe then I would have actually done what this draft says:

"Hello again people on the internet

I have bin here fore a month now and I think I really like it here . I still have no idea what i supposed to do so im just going to do something.

i will probably do something on the first of every month just because that`s when i made my first post "

I will hear by try to do that this year (this is not part of the draft anymore i will actually try to do this)

Its about 9:30 pm still the 25 of May now . it has just been fun to write all this stuff again

[goldproblems]

[read on ao3]

“I felt it. You know what I mean.”

John indeed knew what Sherlock meant. The night of his wedding, the end of an era, the news of an unexpected pregnancy. Most importantly, the look they had shared exactly at that moment.

The look had said sorrow, regret, sadness. It had transmitted everything not said in years. They both understood what it meant at the time, but neither said a word. What could they have said? Everything was shit and John had just gotten married. There wasn’t anything to do. 

But that was then. Now, John was back at Baker Street, they found out the baby was fake, and Mary was gone. Despite all this, Sherlock and John never mentioned The Look until now.

This topic of conversation came about after hours of investigation and research for a case, tired sighs and takeout dinner. Sometimes, in moments like these when they felt completely in their element and one hundred per cent trusting in each other, the courage to ask certain questions and talk simply and naturally rose up, allowing all that had passed between them and Mary to be discussed.

In this particular day, after dinner and with them sitting in their respective chairs with a cup of tea, John asked how was Sherlock capable of deducing the fake pregnancy. The answer was, of course, that Mary faked all the symptoms for Sherlock to deduce. After that answer, Sherlock gave John a look. That’s when he said it. 

“I felt it.”

Silence. John looked up from his tea. 

“You know what I mean,” Sherlock continued. 

“I never thought we’d ever talk about this,” John said, appreciating the comforting heat coming from his mug.

“I never thought I’d have the courage to bring it up.”

“What changed, then?” 

Everything was quiet. The streets were uncommonly empty at this hour, few cars driving by. The only sounds filling up the living room were their breaths, the crackling from the fireplace and the occasional muffled noises of Ms Hudson downstairs going about.

John could see Sherlock was hesitant. He had his head down and was holding the mug tighter than necessary. John wanted to reach out, tell him to continue. At the same time, he knew he had to give Sherlock space for what he was about to say. 

After a few seconds,

“You – us. It’s just the two of us again. Baker Street, solving crimes, you blogging about it..I know you’ve been through a lot, yet... This feels like a second chance.”

“I agree,” John responded simply with a shy smile on his face. He felt truly at peace for the first time in a long time. 

Hearing this, Sherlock brows went slightly up, his mouth opened in surprise. 

“You do?”

“Yeah, I do.”

“So, indeed –“

“Yes.”

John put his mug on the rug, beside the armchair, and leaned forward with his elbows on his knees, hands clasped together, head up looking at the man in front of him. 

“You know what that look meant. Nothing’s changed, I… I still feel the same. I wouldn’t have brought it up- I know things between us have been a bit complicated, and I know I’ve made a lot of mistakes…But Sherlock,” he took a deep breath, somehow trying to keep the emotions in but failing, “I never forgot that look. Nothing’s changed. You must know.”

John had tears coming out of his eyes. He didn’t care. 

“John-“The name came out like a sigh.

“Come here.”

Sherlock did. He sat on the rug right in front of John, between his legs. John’s hands went straight to his face, thumbs caressing cheekbones. 

“I know I hurt you. I’m so sorry Sherlock, for everything, I really am. I was so alone, I didn’t know what to do-“

“I know, I know. It’s okay. It’s only us again. The two of us.”

They were both smiling through the tears at this point, and just like it was the most natural thing in the world, like it was always meant to be – John leaned down and pressed his lips to Sherlock’s. 

And just like that, John finally understood that between all his bad choices and regrets, he must’ve done something right, cause life finally brought him to here, to Sherlock.

@consultingbeekeepers @red-pen-revolution @patiencegrenade @fellshish @200and21bees @not-a-bit-good @holmesianscholar @notjustamumj @theconsultinglinguist @jonwatson @icandothisalldayy @almosttomorocco @worriesconstantly

[limegreenink]

Paying Farina 20k gold to her onlyfans account so she joins my army

[turnerchic]

ARABELLA

Alex turner x reader

a/n - sorry for being ia i've been ill from my covid vaccine and i'm finishing off a few fics but i'm running out of ideas so requests open.

AND my fics are getting so short it's because i'm so busy with school etc, so writing long fics is so time consuming but i have a few fics i'm finishing in drafts so!

summary - Alex and Y/N discuss baby names for their unborn daughter.

warnings: non.

y/n pov :

"I'm clueless Alex i am"

" Love.. do we really have to worry about it now? i mean we still have 3 months left"

"but i should atleast have some idea Alex, you're not even helping" getting up from frustration

"listen we'll think of something" trying to not frustrate you further he knew how emotional you was during your pregnancy

"stop saying that- (Y/F/N and her boyfriend thought of a name straight away" and this is where you get all emotional "i cant even think of a stupid baby name alex, god this is stupid"

"Love you're emotional it's orite and it's not stupid that you care" grabbing your hand and stroking his thumb in circles

"come ere' sit down" patting the side of the bed next to him

"it's literally worthless that i'm getting upset over it Alex and it, it just" struggling to get your words out

"it's orite it's orite it doesn't matter" he laughed

you had tears on your face he probably thought you were a huge emotional pregnant lady and found it amusing

"i'm crying? why am i crying?" you groaned

"you're carrying a whole human i'm not surprised you're crying" he said trying to lighten your mood

he kissed your head

"later we can sit down and talk about names, properly"

"really?" he really had lifted the mood,

not only was he putting up with your horrible mood swings and lash outs but actually understood them

"yeah, when was the last time you ate?"

"this morning- 10 i think i dont know" despite it was now 8pm

"y/n?"

"i forgot"

"well then better get you fed, you're eating for 2 remember" he laughed getting up "i'm gonna cook you y/f/m"

"my favourite, thank you Alex you're the best you know" lying down laughing

"anything for my favourite girls"

"she's not even born yet"

"still my favourite, and i'm gonna be her favourite" he shouted from the kitchen

"you wish"

a/n - not proofread and also i wanna make a part 2 to this.

[krabjoons]

omg professor... what are you doing?!?!?! [pjm]

⮕ summary: park jimin is the hottest, most popular guy at school. the only catch? he also just so happens to be your teacher.

⮕ pairing: park jimin x reader, mentions of jaebum x reader

⮕ genre: smut, university!au, pwp

⮕ word count: 12.8k

⮕ rating: 18+, nsfw

⮕ warnings: hard dom!jimin x bratty-ish sub!y/n, professor!jimin x university student! y/n (he’s 27-28 ish and she’s 21-22), fuckboy!jaebum, pussy eating, fingering, thigh riding, vaginal sex, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), dirty talk (carries the whole fic tbh), degradation, edging, dumbification, impact play (pussy + ass spanking), manhandling, humiliation, exhibitionism, creampie, teasing, praise, orgasm denial, begging, overstimulation, crying, kissing/making out, jimin’s a meanie but y/n likes it (aka i go ham on the degradation and edging you have been warned), aftercare (like 500 words of it :P)

⮕ a/n: this took too long to come out and has literally been sitting in my drafts since august but here it is! writing this was definitely a rollercoaster because this was my first smut and honestly i felt like it was really bad at times but other times i was like wtf this is so hot,, ANYWAYS, i’m glad that i’m posting it and getting over that fear of imperfection. i hope that you guys enjoy this piece :). i would also like to add that please don’t hook up with your teachers… if you do, that’s on you i take no responsibility for that whatsoever lol. excuse the title i literally have no idea what to change it to but i like it the way it is tbh LMFAOOO OK I’LL STOP RAMBLING NOW BYEEE ILY ALL

University has never been when you’ve expected. When you first graduated high school and came here, you expected your late teenage years to be filled with just as much studying as high school combined with only a few parties here and there. You didn’t expect to make as many friends as you did and certainly did not expect to be known as the girl with the high grades and even higher alcohol tolerance. No longer are you the shy Y/N L/N that walked through the entrance gates on the first day of school; you’ve changed a lot.

It was a surprise to you. With academics taking precedence much of your life, the freedom university provided you with was welcomed - perhaps a little too much. You quickly learned that polar bear shots were great to keep you in a good mood at parties and that eating mangoes before smoking gave you a better high. And, you also learned about sex.

Admittedly, the first time you had a hookup, it was awkward and messy (at least for you… it was a guy, what else were you expecting?) but with more practice, you were able to get the hang of it. You’ve found your tastes and now willingly talk about who catches your eye to your best friends, something you never thought you’d do last year. 

Speaking of who catches your eye, as of now it’s Park Jimin. A really hot guy, according to your friends, and according to you, an even better voice. When you first walked into your Applications of Economics class, you nearly spit out your Starbucks drink after you saw the astonishingly handsome man with silky black hair in a dress shirt and tie. Surprisingly formal for a university student, you thought, but you weren’t one to talk, considering your current outfit of business casual.

Only, he wasn’t a student. He was your teacher. You should’ve put the pieces together earlier but you didn’t. Let's just say a Coconut Lime Refresher is good for hangovers, and you needed one desperately (basically, you were drunk as hell the night before and were still in the process of recovering). It certainly didn’t take long before all of campus was talking about the new economics professor who was hotter than hell. Girls (and some guys) immediately tried transferring into his class, one of them being your best friend Lisa, just to get a glimpse of how attractive he was. You remember a couple of girls offering you literal cash to transfer out, but you didn’t.

A good call, thinking about it now. You’ve gotten closer with Mr. Park, although it’s nothing too special yet, the two of you are on good terms and have even hugged before (you still get giddy thinking about it). Y/N from 2 years ago would be screaming her head off at how bold you’ve gotten, but now, you can’t bring yourself to care. Park Jimin is a hot guy, and you’re pretty hot too (if you must admit), so it would only be logical if the two of you could hook up. Unsurprisingly, you’ve lost your shame, nothing but thoughts of your teacher filling your mind in your spare time. 

So here you are, another day of university, as monotonous as ever. The only highlight of your day will be the morning, where you have a class with Mr. Park. You've started changing your style a bit recently, opting for more, let’s just leave it at provocative outfits. Walking into the room, you take your usual seat in the front, closest to Mr. Park’s desk. 

The class progresses like it normally does, starting with a review of the work from the last class and a discussion about the new material. "I’m going to give you guys this last half hour of class to review the material individually if you want or you can leave early, I don’t mind. I know it's a Friday so there’s gonna be some parties around campus, if you want to prepare yourselves for that then go ahead." Your professor glances around the room, smirking at you when mentioning the parties. You flush and look away, biting your lower lip. 

You make the decision to stay in the classroom while the majority of the other students file out of the room. "I'll be available for any questions," Jimin calls out, returning to his desk across from you.

Sticking to your reputation, you get a head start on the assignment and easily work through the homework. Surprisingly, you forget about Jimin for the time being, focused on finishing your assignment so that you have as little work as possible to do after classes. You don’t notice your teacher looking at you, admiring the way you put so much effort into the things you’re passionate about. Hearing a student call his name, he gets up to help him. 

Surprisingly, Mr. Park has assigned a disturbingly low amount of homework, probably because of the upcoming weekend and maybe a pop quiz later next week (ugh). You’ve finished your work in a mere twenty minutes and are surprised to find that Jimin is not at his desk when you look up from your laptop. You turn around, looking for him, and see that he’s helping another student. Whipping out your phone, you text your best friend Lisa (who just so conveniently, also thirsts over Jimin the same way you do).

to lisa: hey i finished classwork for mr park and have like 10 minutes of free time now lol

Instantly, she responds as if she wasn’t in class. Then again, she has never been one to pay too much attention to her professors. 

from lisa: ayo talk to him 

from lisa: also save me from bio i literally cannot

Smiling slightly, you respond to her.

to lisa: i WOULD but he’s helping other students

from lisa: then be like "m- mister park, i- need help please" and use puppy eyes 

to lisa: LMFAOO PLEASE he’d be like whats wrong with you since when did you struggle in this class

to lisa: but i mean, anything to hear him talk i guess 

from lisa: god i'm so jealous you have him early so you can hear his morning voice it must be hot asf

to lisa: it is omg

from lisa: god what if he moans like that it'd be such a turn on

to lisa: dUDE STOP NO the way this is literally true like if he has a good sip of coffee or a pastry he likes hes gonna go all "mmmm I wish you could try this" pls its so fking hot

to lisa: like SIR I WANNA TRY YOU or you to try me no complaints

from lisa: wtf he finishes his breakfast before my class so i can't even hear it tf I hate it here

to lisa: u have him right after my block bro at leAST you have him 

to lisa: what ab the people who don't even have him

from lisa: idk what i'd do honestly. imagine not having a literal sex god teaching you every day i pity those who dont

You’re about to type out a response when a smooth voice sounds out from behind you, "alright guys, you’re good to go. Have a good weekend!" You jump in your seat, not realizing that your teacher was helping the student right behind you for the past five minutes. 

As the rest of the class begins to pack up, you pray that he hasn’t seen you talking about your sexual fantasies less than five feet away from him. Mr. Park doesn’t say anything, so you must be in the clear, right? You’re hoping and praying that he didn’t find out, but your heart rate is already rising and you’re getting a sick feeling in your stomach. Your gut must be trying to tell you something.

Well, your gut’s telling you that the universe must not be on your side because as soon as you stand up, he says, "Ms. L/N, can you stay a bit after class? I have a few things I want to discuss with you." Cheeks flushing hot, you squeak out a "yes, sir."

When everyone has left and it’s just the two of you left in the room, Jimin pulls up a seat next to his desk. "Sit," he commands, leaning on his desk. You scramble to your feet and walk over, mind buzzing with thoughts. Oh god, what if he tells the administration department? Then you’d definitely be punished and maybe even kicked out of the school. Maybe you could make up a story? Oh, it’s ANOTHER Park Jimin, haha. Definitely NOT my teacher. Even if you did, they could go the rest of the texts between you and Lisa and you’d be screwed. And not to be petty or anything, but being kicked out would mean that you wouldn’t be able to be in Jimin’s class anymore and wouldn’t be able to see him. Oh, and the bigger problem would be that you’d also be unable to get your degree.

You start internally panicking, heart rate picking up even when your teacher rolls up his sleeves and leans down in front of you. Stop thinking about dirty things FOR ONCE, Y/N, half of you screams, while the other half of you has already started fantasizing about things which shouldn’t be thought about, especially with one of the people in the fantasies less than a couple of feet in front of you. With his hands on his thighs, the ones you’ve thought about riding far too often, he smirks.

"So, I heard you wanna try me?"

You gulp, absolutely mortified that Jimin caught you. Yes, he was attractive, and you would do practically anything to fuck him, but you didn’t expect to be humiliated into admitting it. "Um, no sir! I mean, maybe, but not in the way you think!" you ramble. Shut up, Y/N, part of you screams. You’re only digging yourself into a deeper hole.

"Yeah, sure. Because I definitely didn’t see what you were talking about with your friend. Be honest, Y/N," he says, smirking down at you. "You think about me, don't you? I'm not new to this. I see the way girls like you look at me. I know the way they talk about me when they think I can't hear. I know the way you think. Who would've thought? Little Miss L/N, all prim and proper on the outside, would be so filthy deep down?"

"Sir, I- uh. I-" you stutter out, cheeks burning furiously hot.

"You what? You're not going to try to prove your innocence now, are you? Not when you've gotten this far, hm? Getting to do what you’ve wanted after all this time?" he asks, standing up from his desk, and walking over to you, kneeling in front of you so that you were forced to hold eye contact. 

"You know, nobody else has been as daring as you, my dear," he hums softly. "Sending promiscuous texts about their teacher in the very class they're in. Rubbing their thighs together every time their teacher catches their eye." You shift in your seat, Jimin's words sparking the slightest of fires in your core. "Gazing ever so obviously at said teacher’s dick, too. Y/N, you amaze me. So, so brilliant. yet so, so naughty. You thought that nobody else would catch onto you? Unfortunately, you thought wrong."

"I'm s- sorry sir," you whisper out.

"You're just sorry that you got caught, Y/N. You'll keep doing this even after today," Jimin chuckles lowly. "Possibly even more after today," he adds on, taking note of how his words have affected you. Your pupils are dilated and your cheeks are starting to get flushed. "Such a dirty girl. I'm here trying to scold you, and here you are, getting turned on by my words. Is this why you ask so many questions, doll? To hear my voice?"

You bite your lip in a mixture of embarrassment and nervousness, nodding imperceptibly. The logical, studious side of you is thinking, oh my god, is this really happening? Am I going to fuck my teacher? I really shouldn’t be doing this. The relaxed, easygoing side of you (pretty much your horny side) is thinking, finally, it’s happening. I’m going to FINALLY be fucking Park Jimin.

"What else have you imagined about my voice, hm? How I'd whisper into your ear while pounding into you? Hear me moan as your tight cunt clenches around my dick? Tell you how good you're making me feel? Reminding you how much of a slut you are to fuck your teacher in the middle of his classroom, where anyone could walk in?" he continues, seeing you shift in your seat more. "Would you like that?" he asks.

"Y- yes Mr. Park. I- I would," you whisper. You have to consciously clench your thighs together to keep them from spreading at his words.

"Hm, I don't believe you. Try again another time, darling," he sighs, leaning back on his knees, getting ready to stand up. You don't want this, whatever it is, to be over that quickly so you make up your mind. Swallowing your pride and succumbing to the dull throb in your panties, you pout.

"But professor, I really do want you. I want you to make me feel good and I wanna make you feel good. Please," you whine out. "I wanna be thinking about you all the time because you fucked me so well in class. And when my friends talk about wanting to get in your pants, I want to be the only one who already has. Please, Mr. Park. I need you." you breathe out. At this point, the pressure in your core is rising steadily, and only intensifies when you see the way your teacher's eyes are glazed over in lust and eyebrows are furrowed. Your eyes travel down the expanse of his face to his lips, plump and pink. Oh, the number of times you've wished to kiss them, imagined them suckling on your clit. And now that Jimin knows, perhaps it's finally coming true. 

"You'd like that, hm? God, you're so dirty," Jimin mutters, inching closer to you, cautiously placing a hand on your knee. Your legs instantly part to make room for him in between and he inches forward. "Does dirty talk really turn you on that much, Y/N? I can smell you through your panties," he remarks.

"Mr. Park, please do something," you whimper. And with that, Jimin pulls you over to his desk and sits you on the edge. You spread your legs and he stands in between them. He leans his head closer to you until he's next to your ear.

"Want me to get you off with my words? You seem to like that already and I haven't even tried, doll. Or perhaps," he pauses, bunching up your skirt so that it pools at your waist. "You want me to touch you?"

You nod eagerly, chest heaving in anticipation. "I want both Mr. Park. I want you," you purr salaciously. And with that, your teacher lets out a low growl and presses his lips onto yours harshly. It’s already bruising, but you just can’t get enough of the way he tastes of caramel and coffee and how ridiculously soft his lips are, so you wrap your arms around his neck and pull him in even closer. He seems a little put off by how eager you are, but once he hears you sigh in enjoyment, he melts into your eager grasp. 

His hands start sliding down your waist so that they are resting on your upper thighs, and he rubs comforting circles into them, trailing them closer and closer to your panties. He breaks off from the kiss to look down and smirks back at you before joining his lips to yours with even more fervor and you praise yourself for deciding to wear your lace thong today. You feel his tongue slide against your lips, asking for permission to enter and your mouth immediately complies. 

The feeling of his hot breath on your lips and thumbs rubbing against the juncture of your thighs has you feeling needy for more. Jimin swirls the tip of his tongue against yours, the filthy action turning you on even more. You moan into his mouth and thread your fingers through his hair, causing him to let out a low groan.

Finally, after what seems like an eternity, the two of you break apart. Chest heaving up and down, you take note of your teacher's face. His lips are redder and plumper than ever before. His cheeks have the faintest blush on them. His eyes, the ones that crinkle into a happy smile whenever you answer a question correctly in class, are now clouded over with deep lust.

"Get onto all fours. On the desk," Jimin commands, and you immediately comply. Now your ass is facing Jimin and you're very nearly completely exposed to him, save the thong you're wearing.

"God, you're such a slut," Jimin moans out at the sight. "Do you get dressed up like this just so you can get fucked in class? Such a short fucking skirt that I can see whatever you're wearing underneath whenever you bend over, hm? You wanted me to give in to you, doll?" When you nod weakly, he chuckles, "I don't think so."

Arching your back so your ass sticks out even more, you whine, "professor, please fuck me. I'm so fucking horny, please." Jimin cups your pussy from outside your panties and leans over you, "I don't think so, kitten. I'm the one calling the shots here." Your pussy flutters in response and Jimin slaps it lightly, chuckling. The brief stimulation has your cunt clenching around nothing.

He spreads your knees slightly and begins trailing hot, open-mouthed kisses up your thighs to the arch of your back. Feeling his breath so close to your core has you getting wetter by the minute in anticipation. He finally hovers over your back, placing a soft kiss on your shoulder, muttering, "I'm going to wreck you, Y/N", and you feel yourself clench in excitement. 

"Then do it," you whisper, and Jimin hooks his fingers around the waistband of your thong and pulls it down, so slow that it's almost painful, exposing your heat to the cool air of the classroom and causing you to shiver in response. 

You don't see it, but his eyes widen seeing the strings of your slick connecting your pussy to your panties. He takes a look at your core and his mouth starts watering. You're soaking and clenching around nothing, thighs shaking ever so slightly in anticipation.

He flattens his tongue and licks a flat stripe up your pussy, from your clit to your entrance. He pauses to suck some of your juices from it, but your cunt just keeps leaking them out. He runs his tongues through your folds over and over again until you let out a wanton moan.

Encouraged by your reaction, he hooks his arms around the side of your hips, nuzzling closer into your pussy. He laps at your cunt and purposely avoids your clit, only heightening the pressure in your core.

"Mr. Park," you whine out, pushing your hips back. "Please. More," you pant out. Suddenly, Jimin spanks your right ass cheek, rubbing his hand over the fleshy globe soothingly afterward. You let out a little yelp and turn around to catch his eyes. 

"More what?" he spits out, smiling at you evilly. "My little slut's gotta tell me what she wants. How else would I give it to her?" your mind is foggy, pleasure causing you to lose track of everything other than the man behind you. "W- want you," you garble out, "t- to play with my clit too." 

"What's the magic word, doll?" Jimin teases, breath fanning over your slit, causing your walls to clench erratically. "Please, Mr. Park," you whine, pushing your cunt closer to his face. He smirks at you, avoiding your advances. 

"Good girl," he praises before finally positioning himself just barely in front of your clit. You feel him blow cool air onto your slit, but the temperature of it is magnified even more due to how wet you are. You whine out, expressing your displeasure, and Jimin finally indulges you by taking your throbbing button between his plush lips.

"F- fuck, sir, yes! Right there, please," you squeal, back arching even more. Jimin hums, the vibrations sending waves of pleasure through your body. You can feel yourself growing wetter, your entrance squeezing out more and more of your arousal down to where Jimin's lips are sucking. He momentarily pauses to flatten his tongue out, letting your juices drip onto them and slurping them up eagerly. The obscene noises behind you combined with the low thrum of student life just outside the classroom door mesh together to have you realize where exactly the two of you are doing this.

You glance at the clock, and your eyes widen. "Prof- oh my god, Pr- Professor Park," you moan out, trying to keep your focus. Jimin again hums, making you jolt in pleasure. "I- uh, there’s only ten minutes until the next block of classes start. I need t- to leave in around five." When Jimin releases from you with a pop, you can feel your slick running down your thighs and some dripping onto his desk. You feel a rush of excitement at the thought of everyone walking in during class to see the mess Jimin made of you on his desk and again squeeze around nothing.

"Well then," Jimin hums lazily, "guess you better cum within five minutes if you want to cum at all." He dives back into your heat, tongue skillfully running through your folds. He cycles between kitten licking and delivering harsh sucks to your clit and dipping his tongue into your entrance. You grind against his face in desperation to reach your release, and just when you finally feel it hurtling towards you at an alarming rate, suddenly, Jimin gets up.

He leans over you, trailing a hand up your slick-ridden thigh to cup your bare heat and mutters lowly in your ear, "time’s up." Your heart drops in frustration, and you whine out. Grinding into his palm, you beg for him to touch you once again, knowing nothing but how good he was making you feel just seconds ago. "Mr. P- Park, please. Make me cum," you cry out.

Jimin spanks your pussy, a wet echo sounding through the room. You jolt forward and your cunt leaks out even more of your arousal in response to the combination of pain and pleasure. "I said no," he hisses, "you couldn't cum in time, you don't deserve to cum." 

"God, look at you, you're a mess. Bent over and spread out so desperately for me. You taste so sweet, doll. So responsive, too," Jimin murmurs, lazily rubbing your slit. He's, once again, avoiding your clit and driving you insane. Your sensitive nub is now swollen and throbbing with need, slick with your arousal. 

"Has anyone touched you as well as I do, Y/N?" he asks. When you shake your head, he slaps your cunt again, another wet sound echoing through the room. "Words, baby girl," he goads, fingers dancing through your folds. 

"N- no, sir. they can’t make me feel half as good as you did. I’ve al- I’ve always been thinking about having you touch m- my cunt and making me cum really hard. and I- shit I’m so needy sir, I wanna cum," you garble out, tears pricking the corner of your eyes. You feel Jimin’s hand leave your pussy, exposing your soaked heat to the cool air of the room. Slowly, he pulls your thong up your thighs and the light touches make you clench in desperation and whine out.

He marvels at the sight of you so fucked out in front of him. The way his top student was falling apart at the slightest touches he gave you. And the words you said. God, to have you say such filthy things in comparison to your gentle demeanor, all because of him, it really did something to him.

Jimin finishes clothing you and presses a kiss to the top of your ass and walks across the room to get some tissues to clean up the mess you made. Still perched on the desk, you watch him needily, thighs rubbing together to relieve some of the pressure from being denied your orgasm. "So I really don’t get to cum?" You ask meekly, holding back a sob. "I need to cum, Mr. Park."

He chuckles, "there’s a difference between need and want, doll. You want to cum, you don't need to cum. But what you do need," he returns to you, leaning down so that his face is right in front of yours, "is to get to your next class." Your face, once eagerly lit up in anticipation, has now fallen in disappointment.

Rolling your eyes, you huff out a "fine" and get off his desk, feeling your arousal make your thighs stick together. Your panties are uncomfortably damp and you’re so wet you can even smell yourself. "Can you make me cum later?" you question Jimin, sliding closer to him and playing with his tie, praying that he’ll be the one to make you release instead of having to do it yourself when you get home.

"If you play nice I might. If not, then… we’ll see," he hums, handing you a tissue to clean yourself up while heading to wipe down his desk. "I have a lunch meeting in the second half of the lunch block, so if you really need me, I’ll be here before then." 

You grin and nod in excitement. "Cool! so I’ll-" you begin before the first students from the next class start filing in, making you jump. "The door wasn’t locked?" you whisper frantically to him. "We could have been caught, Jimin! Are you crazy?!"

He smirks at you, "didn’t you say you wanted it that way? Where anyone could walk in? I only did what you asked, doll." You’re left speechless as he continues. "Anyways, you should be in your next class pretty soon. I’ll write a note to your professor just in case you’re late. But get going, yeah? I’ll see you in time for our meeting." He hands you a slip of paper and straightens up, tossing the dirty tissues into the trash can in the corner of the room. 

"Okay class, we’re going to get started soon. I presume you all did the reading, so just prepare for the discussion we’re going to be having about it when the bell rings," he calls out to the class. Turning to face you, he questions quietly with genuine concern, "you okay? Did I push you too much for our first time?" 

Your mind swirls with thoughts. Our first time. The words fill you with giddy excitement. It’s just the two of you that know about this, the dirty things you were doing just minutes ago, very nearly getting caught. Knowing that this won’t be the only moment you guys are doing this, fills you with excitement.

"On the contrary, actually," you tease your teacher with a smile. "It was really nice honestly, but perhaps, you didn’t do enough." You bite your lip at the way Jimin's eyes darken and he looks away. "Get to class, Ms. L/N. The bell will ring any minute," he says lowly, jaw slightly clenched. Your core throbs at the sight and you head towards the door. 

"Goodbye, Mr. Park. Thank you!" you call out, catching sight of Lisa, who raises her eyebrows at you teasingly and mouths text me. Blushing, you nod at her before leaving the room to go to your next class.

Being "one of the smartest students on campus" comes with its perks. Like right now, for example. You always (somehow) come to class overprepared, so when your next teacher gives you a day to work on your project (which you've already finished), you head to the back of the room to text Lisa in private. 

from lisa: dude wtf was that you were literally talking to Mr. Park outside of ur class time with him

from lisa: omg wait don't tell me you fucked him

from lisa: did you

to lisa: NO I DID NOT OMG I wish tho lmao

to lisa: I was asking him for help on the paper he's assigning us and to proofread it and stuff before I submit it

from lisa: omg I forgot he assigned us that shit

to lisa: dude lmao its due in a week or so you have plenty of time

from lisa: ugh literally he's such a hottie why does he have to be so into teaching

to lisa: sis commitment to something is hot

from lisa: omg ur right wait a sec tho

from lisa: dude

from lisa: omg

from lisa: he definitely has a boner

Knowing that you were likely the cause of it, you shift in your seat cockily, smiling slyly to yourself while looking down.

to lisa: whAT

to lisa: wait how big is it

from lisa: ok I dont think he’s fully hard yet he's like semi hard but barely 

from lisa: LMFAO Y/N don't worry I think he’s packing seems kinda thick too

Taking in a deep breath, you look up at the ceiling. You imagine him slowly sinking into you and making you whimper at his size. Him seeing your face and growling, "if you’re really a good girl, you should be able to take it." You cross your legs tightly and rock up and down in a lame attempt to diminish the rising pressure between your thighs and look back down at your phone.

to lisa: pls thats so hot

from lisa: IKR I want him to r a i l me

to lisa: or eat me out… have you sEEN those lips of his wtf

from lisa: on god do not get me started

to lisa: pls i bet he’d be the type to tease you

Oh Lisa, if only you knew the truth behind those words.

from lisa: YES hes lowkey cocky bc he knows like the entire fucking population simps for him

from lisa: he’s def gonna make you beg to cum

to lisa: pls thats hot do not get me riled up in class istg

from lisa: too late i've already started babe ;)

You continue texting Lisa throughout the entirety of your class. Finally, you look at the clock and seeing that there are only a few more minutes till the class ends, you wrap up your conversation with her.

to lisa: hey btw i’m gonna be coming to lunch late… save me a seat at our regular spot?

from lisa: when ur best friend is a teachers pet :(( fiNE I guess I will

to lisa: love u!! xx

from lisa: love you too nerd xoxo

The bell finally rings, signaling the start of the lunch break and you immediately stand up and walk out the door, bidding your teacher goodbye and thanks.

Running into the bathroom, you do a quick check of your appearance. You tug up your skirt a bit higher and tuck in your shirt so that your outfit accentuates your curves. You glance at your face and notice how abnormally large your pupils are in comparison to most days. Jimin has completely ruined you today, just like he said he would. I'm going to wreck you, Y/N. His words echo in your ears as you make your way out to his classroom. Trying to ignore how uncomfortably wet your panties are, you knock on the door to his room. 

You hear a smooth voice answer with a, "come in," and take a deep breath before opening the door to see Jimin sitting behind his desk, leaning back in his chair with his arms behind his head. He scans you up and down, eyes taking in every inch of your figure. "Nice outfit alterations," he notes, patting his laps as a hint for you to sit on it. You quickly lock the door and make your way to him, placing one leg on each side of him so that you’re now straddling his thighs. "Is this all for me?" he asks and you tuck your head down, suddenly shy now that all his attention is on you again. 

"Mhm, depends on whether you like it or not" you smile timidly, hands reaching out to play with his tie again. He laughs. "Princess, I’m conflicted. You do look very nice, all dolled up for me like this. It’d be a shame if I were to ruin your efforts. But on the other hand," he remarks, "you’ve very nearly crossed the line for indecent exposure. What if another teacher caught you like this? you would get in trouble, hm? And what if it were a student to see you like this? What would they think of you then?" He questions, causing your cheeks to burn at his words.

"They would think I- that I’m a whore. I- and that I dress up like this just so I can pass my classes," you whisper out, biting your lips in a combination of excitement and humiliation. You can feel yourself start to throb again and you start to rut against Jimin’s thighs. He shifts you over so that you are sitting on only one and slightly bounces his leg. The stimulation to your neglected cunt sends a shock running through your body and you squeeze your thighs around his.

"Look at you, so fucking desperate to cum. You think that you aren’t a little whore already, so needy for me this quickly, hm? Do you really think you deserve to cum?" He hums, admiring the way you’re worked up. He pushes up your skirt and slaps your thigh just underneath your ass. You shift away as a reaction, causing your clit to get the stimulation it finally deserved. The way your underwear rubs against your neglected bundle of nerves causes you to let out a groan and drop your head to Jimin's shoulder. He spanks you this time, making you yelp. "I asked you a question, doll."

"Mmhm, yeah," you whine out, "I deserve t- to cum, sir." At this point, your hips are moving on their own accord, shifting back and forth desperately against Jimin's thigh. He grabs your waist tightly, holding you still. "Look at me," he commands, bouncing his thigh. You mewl into his shoulder, the change in motion making you lose focus. He spanks you again, the sound echoing around the room. "Listen to directions, sweetheart. Or else you’ll get punished," he warns.

You lift your head to look at Jimin, faces just inches apart. His eyes scan over your face, lingering on your lips. Slowly, you lean towards him, closing the distance between you two. He gives into your eager kiss and you glide your hands up his firm chest to run your fingers through his hair. He starts bouncing you on his thigh and you groan into his mouth. Breaking apart panting, you place your forehead against Jimin’s, moving your hips back and forth harder to increase the pressure going to your clit.

"God, Y/N, you’re so wet," Jimin pants while looking down at the way your clothed pussy drags over his thigh. "I can feel you soaking through my slacks," he says, shifting you over. just like he said, there is now a wet spot on his thigh from where you just were. Thankfully, it’s barely noticeable, but if you focus enough, you can see it.

"What are you going to do about it, hm? I have classes to teach, meetings to attend. Do you want people to see the mess you made all over me?" He hisses, spanking you to elicit an answer. "N- no, sir. I’m s- sorry," you whisper out, eyes clenched, still rutting against him. You feel your orgasm bubbling up as every second passes.

"I don't think you're sorry, doll. Look at you making a mess all over me through your panties. You're absolutely soaked, so fucking desperate to cum," he tuts, clenching his thigh muscles purposely. You gasp and shove your head into the crook of Jimin's neck, letting out a low groan.

"Mr. Park, I'm so wet because of you. I- god, I wanna cum. please. I'm so close," you mewl into him, legs starting to tighten around his thigh.

You shut your eyes, feeling your impending orgasm build up. Right when you're about to let go, Jimin holds your hips in place tightly, preventing you from moving. Squeaking out, you make an attempt to shift your pussy over his thighs. It's no use because you can feel it start to drift away slowly and you look at him in need. Tears stinging the corners of your eyes, you plead, "S- sir I need you to touch me again. Please."

"Well, since you asked so nicely," Jimin smiles cockily, lifting you onto his desk and spreading your legs after stripping you of your panties. You lean back so that you face the ceiling. Your eyes roll back once you feel him take your clit into his mouth. You moan and arch your back off of the desk, thighs involuntarily clenching around his head. 

"God, Mr. Park, yes! O- oh, fuck, please," you blabber out incoherently, your mind hazy and overwhelmed with pleasure. "More," you whimper out without thinking.

Jimin disconnects from your heat to look up at you, murmuring, "Greedy little slut wants it all, huh? Won't even ask nicely for it. Tell me what you want, Y/N. Beg for it, and I might just give it to you."

"God, I- I want it all, professor," you call out, wiggling your hips in search of stimulation that never comes. "Want you to stuff me with your f- fingers and lick my p- pussy and make me cum. Want you to fuck me r- raw with your fat cock from behind and sp- and spank me. Want you to ma- make me cry from cumming so hard just as much as you have from not letting me cum. A- and I want you to leave hi- hickies on my thighs so that if I bend over, p- people are gonna know how much of a cockslut I am, just for you."

"Yeah? Well, I can tell you this," Jimin says, fingers dancing up your thigh closer to your sick-ridden core. "You are a cockslut. So fucking dirty. Most people come to class to learn but it seems that you come here to get off." He inserts a finger into you and your walls immediately clamp down on it. He moves the digit in and out of you smoothly, your arousal allowing the smoothest of motions. "You like that, baby? Finally having something in that tight cunt of yours?" You nod at his question, adding on "want more, sir."

"Not enough? Greedy little bitch. look at you, so needy. What are you gonna do when I have my cock out, hm?" He shoves a second finger into you and starts curling them into your heat. You arch your back to the ceiling and he hovers over you. For a moment, there’s nothing but the squelch of his fingers in your wet pussy and your panting as he stares into your eyes. Jimin's eyebrows are furrowed and he’s biting his lip - he’s focusing on something.

That "something" becomes apparent when, all of a sudden, you nearly sit upright and let out a loud moan of pleasure, "Fuck, Mr. Park! right there." His fingers continue rubbing that special spot inside you repeatedly and your legs start shaking ever so slightly. You look back at him to see a smug smile on his face. "I found it," he chuckles as you writhe underneath him. He leans down to kiss you, lips melding together.

He keeps fingering you, bringing his thumb up to ghost over your clit ever so slightly to provide enough pleasure to bring you close to your orgasm but just not enough to make you cum. You whine against his lips and he breaks the kiss, asking "you want to cum, doll?" to which you weakly nod. "Then fuck yourself on my fingers. Show me how much of a little slut you are for me. How you’re a cocksleeve for me, so wet and needy as soon as I touch you, so ready for me to fuck you." He stills his digits inside of you and you buck your hips on them, rolling your pelvis repeatedly in an attempt to get to your orgasm. You reach down to provide some stimulation to your clit, but he smacks it away.

"Jim- professor, it’s not enough. I- I need more, please." Tears start welling up in your eyes at the thought of not cumming for the third time. Jimin kisses your temple, the gentle action reminding you that he’s not going to do something you can’t handle. "Please, Mr. Park. I wanna cum," you whine out, hips jerking back and forth in a pathetic attempt to chase after your high.

"Show me then, Y/N. how much you want it. A good girl can show me that she wants it bad enough and will make herself come on my fingers alone. She’s not greedy. She doesn’t need to touch herself too. She just needs my fingers to cum. I know you can be a good girl,  Y/N," he goads. "Can you show me what the pretty little face of yours looks like when you cum? I bet you’ll look so beautiful, even more than you are right now, all fucked out for me."

"Hhngh, sir I- I’m trying," you pant out. "It’s just not enough. I promise I'm a good girl, I swear. Please let me cum. Oh god, I wanna cum." At this point, you’re nearly crying. You haven't ever been edged like this and are desperate for release.

Jimin sees this and purposefully retracts his hand from your cunt covered in your honeyed juices, glistening in the lights of his classroom. "Professor Park, please," you choke out weakly, chest constricting in disappointment. With a soft smile, he brings his fingers up to his mouth and cleans them off, savoring the flavor of you. 

"Be a good girl for the rest of the day and then I’ll let you cum, baby," he hums. "You promise?" you plead, holding onto his arm desperately. 

"I promise, Y/N," he kisses you gently and you taste the remnants of yourself on his tongue, the filthy action causing your clit to throb even more. Combined with the way your cunt is still clenched tight in preparation for an orgasm that won’t come soon, you can definitely say that you can't wait for the school day to come to an end.

"Go to lunch, doll. I have a meeting soon. Don’t think of me too much, hm? Gotta keep those straight A’s the way they are," Jimin teases, pulling down your skirt slowly, fingers just grazing your thighs. He grabs your panties. "Oh, and I think I'll keep these for now," he says cheekily, putting them in his pocket. "They didn’t seem to be doing their job when you were riding my thigh."

You watch him in shock, cheeks flushing red hot. "I- okay. uh, I’m going to lunch now, Jimin. Have a good lunch and meeting, I guess?" you say awkwardly, shuffling to the door with him, tugging your skirt down. 

"Jimin? We’re on a first-name basis already, Y/N? Don’t let anybody hear you call me that in class, baby," he winks, holding the door open and you nod, preoccupied with the little "situation" your skirt just barely hides. You can feel yourself still leaking down your inner thighs, and pray that nobody’s going to notice when you walk into the dining hall.

"Ugh! Bitch, what took you so long?" Lisa exclaims when you sit down next to her with your lunch. You pout. "I wasn't even gone for that long."

"Ha! That long, my ass. You were gone for more than half of the break! I had to tell Jaebum and his cronies to fuck off on my own! I’m not as intimidating when you’re not around, though, so I don’t think it worked. They’ll probably come over again soon." Lisa rolls her eyes. You snort, "One of them probably likes you, that’s why they keep bothering you."

"They just like any female and will take what they can get," Lisa mutters, "but anyway! How was your meeting with Mr. Park? Did you solve his boner problem?" she wiggles her eyebrows.

You clear your throat. "No, Lisa I did not. I'm obviously above that," you say in a sarcastic tone. "I simply offered to," you tease. Lisa squeals and slaps your arm in response. "But for real though," she says. "Anyone that gets to hook up with mister Park Jimin automatically wins at life," and you hum in agreement.

You scan at the dining hall around you and catch the eye of Jaebum sitting with his friend group. He winks at you and you roll your eyes and stand up, "come on Lisa, let’s go. Those assholes are going to come over any second if we stay here any longer." You drag her to your guys’ next class.

The bell rings and the two of you burst out of the classroom. Thank god that’s over. Only one more class left, you think to yourself, gripping your books tighter to your chest in excitement.

"Jesus fuck, since when were you this eager to get to the last class of the day, Y/N? I thought you loved staying in school for as long as possible," Lisa huffs out. You steer her into the direction of your locker, right across from Jimin’s classroom. 

"I'm picking up my books, you dummy. Be grateful I paid for this locker because otherwise, you wouldn’t be able to put your books here." You put in the code and exchange your books while Lisa checks herself in the magnetic mirror attached to the door. you have to be careful when bending over because otherwise you’ll flash the entire school, so you do a weird sit-squat thing. "Geeking out over lockers? You act as if you’re still in high school, Y/N," Lisa teases. "Only during the school day," you wink up at her.

Lisa spots someone through the reflection of the mirror and groans out. "Incoming," she warns, rolling her eyes and turning around. "Wha-" you begin when you get cut off by a smooth voice behind you.

"Damn, L/N. didn’t know you wore skirts this short on campus. Looks good on you," the guy winks. "But it would look even better on my bedroom floor." You hold back a gag and turn to Lisa, raising your eyebrows in exasperation. 

"Wow, I see the originality," Lisa says in the most sickeningly sweet voice. "What do you want, Jaebum?" He chuckles and places an arm over your head, leaning over you. "Well, I’m having a party tonight, and it would be amazing if you two little ladies could attend. Be mine and Jackson’s plus one?" he says. You’re about to say no when he leans in closer to you, inches away from your face, "plus you can get the high-quality drinks for free, not the cheap booze we leave out for the randos who show up."

"You’re probably gonna drug them or something. No thanks, dickwad." you huff out after a second’s hesitation, pushing him away, ready to go to your next class. "Nah, baby. I may be a fuckboy but at least I've got morals. Whaddya say? You get me off, I get you off? Maybe make you cum so many times it starts hurting? You look like you haven’t been able to get an orgasm in a while, you’re so uptight, L/N," Jaebum smirks. 

"You fuckin-" you start to hiss out but you’re shut off again. This time it’s by someone different. Jimin. "Mr. Lim, I don’t think it’s necessarily appropriate to discuss your sexual endeavors while in an academic setting. I’ll be letting you off with a warning for now." He turns to you, eyes flitting across your DIY skimpy outfit. You feel your cunt leak more of your honeyed juices under his piercing gaze and clamp your thighs together to keep them from dripping down your thighs. "And Ms. L/N, I expected better from you. You’re not typically one to do these things in a school environment. Get to class, the two of you," he says, turning back to his classroom.

"Oh," he adds, "and Y/N. fix your outfit. I would hate to see you get dress coded by a teacher who isn’t as lenient." You, Lisa, and Jaebum stare at his back in shock as he heads inside his classroom. 

"Well, uh, that just happened," Lisa states, turning to you. "Ready to go?" you nod numbly, mind swirling with embarrassment and excitement as you tug down your skirt. The two of you walk to the last class of the day while Jaebum calls out, "my place after 11, L/N! I’ll be waiting!", making you wince. Great, now a bunch of people are gonna think you’re hooking up with him.

The last bell of the day finally rings, and you head to your locker after bidding Lisa goodbye. You put your books in your locker and head to the bathroom to fix your clothes. You decide to tease Jimin even more by adjusting your skirt so that it ends just at the bottom of your ass. It’s a terribly risky decision; if you walk too fast, you risk flashing everyone. You’ve tried to wipe the slick off the juncture of your thighs, but it keeps getting replaced with more of your arousal.

You speed walk down the halls and fling open the door to see that Jimin isn’t in his classroom - or so you think. Once you take a few steps into the room, you hear the door shut behind you and lock. Jimin looks at you up and down. "You didn’t fix your outfit, Ms. L/N. Looks like I’ll have to dress code you for indecent exposure then," he hums, heading to his desk to take out a slip of paper.

"Wait Jimin, what? I thought we were- um. You know, going to-" you splutter out, realizing he was actually serious. You can’t have this on your academic record! What would your parents think?

"Going to what? Fuck? Seems like you already have someone else for that, Y/N," he shakes his head, grabbing a pen. You reach forward quickly to stop him, hand, gripping his forearm in desperation. 

"No Mr. Park, I- I never told Jaebum yes. I just-" you try to explain, but Jimin cuts you off. "You what?" he asks bitingly, taking you by surprise. "Did you think that you could just come back and hop on my dick after nearly making out with another guy? God, you really are a slut, aren’t you?"

You rub your thighs together, trying to relieve some of the steadily mounting pressure in your core at Jimin’s words. "Look at you, I told you to fix your outfit and you fucking pulled up your skirt. You pulled it up. You don’t listen to me, talk to your friends about how much you want me to rail you, and yet let other guys make plans to hook up with you. And you expect me to let you cum after all of that?" he continues, noticing the effect he has on you. "You really think I should let you cum, Y/N? I'll tell you what I think. I think I should leave you like this, dripping and needy for me. So ready to get fucked by me but not being able to."

Your eyes widen, "no, please professor, no!" 

"Should I jack off in front of you and not let you touch me? Maybe then would you learn your lesson? Or maybe I should spank your ass till it’s blue you’re unable to sit. Would that work, hm? What if I just send you back to the dorms? You could ask Jaebum to touch you, even if he can’t make you half the mess I can," he continues, pushing you onto his desk. He grabs your jaw and tilts your head up, forcing you to look at him, humiliated, with tears in your eyes.

"Aw," he pouts sarcastically, "is the baby crying? Because I didn’t let her cum? Well, princess, you knew what you were getting yourself into. Little cocksluts like you don’t deserve to cum so easily."

"P- professor, please. You can punish me. Teach me a lesson. B- but just please let me cum." You whimper out, attempting to cross your legs together to assuage your aching clit, but Jimin stops you by holding your knee with his other hand.

He slowly trails his hands up your bare thigh, admiring the way your soft skin seems to get chills at his touch. He pushes you back onto the desk and you prop yourself up your elbows to look at him. "Are you a cockslut, Y/N?" he asks, unbuckling his belt and unzipping his trousers. 

"Y- yes Mr. Park. I- I’m nothing but a hole for you to fuck," you whimper meekly as he pushes up your skirt. He pushes apart your thighs and tugs you to the edge of the desk. "Damn right you are. Nothing but a little whore that I can use to get off. I’m going to fuck you here in school like you’ve never been fucked before. And this dick you’ve been thinking about all this time, it’s going to finally be in you, and I better not hear any complaints," Jimin growls, pumping his length in his hand. "No sir," you whimper out.

"You on the pill?" he asks, to which you reply with a yes. He teases your slit with the pink head of his cock and your entrance flutters at the touch. "But on another note, tell me if you want to stop. I don’t want to push you too much."

You smile, "Jimin, you’re being too kind. I promise I'll tell you. But I did say before perhaps you weren’t doing enough. Mr. Park, I want you to ruin me," you bite your lips, mimicking his words from earlier in the day. He cocks his head in amusement. 

"Don’t worry princess, that’s exactly what I’ll be doing." Without warning, he thrusts forward into your heart, barely giving you time to adjust to his size. The girth of his cock stretches open your cunt with painful pleasure. Once he’s sheathed inside you, you can feel him very near your cervix. 

You let out a shaky breath but it’s cut off as he continues thrusting in and out of you, wet slaps echoing through the room. "M- Mr. Park-" you moan incoherently. 

"Fucking take it, Y/N. You wanted me to ruin you? Well here I am doing it; be fucking grateful." he rolls his hips into yours, hands gripping your sides harshly.

"Th- thank you Mr. Park, s- so much," you nearly sob out, almost crying at the relief of being fucked. You’re so turned on that your walls are clenching around Jimin’s dick so hard that he grips your jaw harshly. Gritting his teeth, he spits, "loosen up, babe. You’re so fuckin’ tight." You whine and try to relax but the stimulation Jimin’s providing has your eyes rolling back instead.

He snakes a hand down to your stomach and under your skirt, circling your throbbing clit. Your pussy flutters at the stimulation and you bite your lip harshly. He changes his angle slightly, causing your thighs to start shaking. His precum and your honeyed juices drip out your sopping cunt, the sound of wet slaps echoing around the room.

"Mmmmh," you moan out softly, back arching slightly. You can feel Jimin hitting your g-spot with impeccable accuracy each time. Doubled with the way his thumb is rubbing circles on your sensitive clit, you feel yourself reaching your orgasm. You try to suppress the giveaway signs of your impending release, knowing that Jimin, in order to "teach you a lesson" of sorts, is likely to take it away from you, so you attempt to just breathe out, "Jimin, fuck, it feels so good."

"Yeah, you like that, baby?" he thrusts into you deeper and harder and you bite your upper lip to stop your moans from slipping out. "Come on Y/N, let me hear those pretty little moans. Let everyone else know how well I'm fucking you, how good I make you feel," Jimin urges.

As soon as he utters those words, you give in, letting high pitched whimpers spill from your lips. Your pussy lets out filthy squelching noises at each of his thrusts, your wetness dripping down your ass and onto the desk. You feel your walls tightening around his cock and try to fight it off, but Jimin can already tell of your impending orgasm. He pulls out of you, leaving your warm and soaked cunt open to the air.

"Fuck," you exclaim in frustration, bringing your hands up to cover your face so Jimin doesn’t see your face, tears starting to spill down your face. It’s frustrating you so much that he won’t let you cum. That he enjoys seeing you whimpering and teary-eyed for him. Your thighs haven’t stopped shaking and Jimin parts them after you close them. He pulls down your arms and smiles evilly. 

"Well, what do we have here," he exclaims, "looks like the baby finally did start crying. Come on, Y/N, I thought you had it in you. But look at how you’re spread out on this desk for me, such a fucking mess. I bet you like it, huh? Dirtying up my desk with that cunt of yours."

"I need to cum, Mr. Park," you choke out, trying to gather your thoughts. "I need to cum now." your teacher’s eyes narrow and he grips your thighs harshly. "What did you say to me?" he asks, a tone laced with dangerous amusement. 

"You heard me. I-," you hesitate for a moment, but decide you’ve already put yourself through enough teasing today. You muster up your courage before saying, "I want you to make me cum now." 

There’s a moment’s silence before you add on shamelessly, "o- or if it’s too much to ask of you, I- I’ll just find someone else to help me do it. Maybe Jaebum? He promised a good time a- and said he would let me cum as many times as I want."

Jimin grabs you by the chin and pulls you up. "You’re such a fucking brat, Y/N." Shifting his hand so it’s gripping your throat, he mutters, "you don’t fucking learn, do you? I thought you were smart, hm? But has the need for sex made you lose your sense? Made you turn into a dumb little bitch, ready to bend over for anyone because you’re so horny? And here I was thinking you were better than that. That you had standards. Perhaps I was wrong, hm? Would you like to tell me?"

You try to look down, away from his piercing glare, but he turns your chin to look back at him. Humiliation courses through your veins as Jimin’s gaze wanders down your body scathingly. "Look at you," he coos sarcastically. "Y/N, baby, you’re such a fucking mess. Pathetic." Suddenly, he lifts you off the desk and bends you over it, cheek pressing the top and ass exposed over the edge to him. You whimper at the feeling of your shirt being stickied from your arousal left on the table from just a few minutes ago. You try moving away from it, but Jimin holds you in place. 

"Are you afraid that everyone else is going to see the mess on your shirt, Y/N? Is that why you’re trying to move?" he hovers over you from behind. "Or perhaps," he continues, hot breath tickling over the shell of your ear, "you want to continue being a brat. Make me punish you until you’re begging for me to make it stop."

He spanks you, the sound echoing across the room before you register the sting of his action. You clench involuntarily and let out the slightest of whimpers. "Fucking hell, are you this turned on? Making noises even if I don’t touch your filthy little pussy?" he asks, smacking your behind again. You bite down on your lip to avoid giving him the answer he already knows.

"Count for me. Be good and maybe I’ll finally let you cum." he commands, spanking your right ass cheek again. "O- one!" you groan. He spanks your left side, the stinging sensation causing you to leak more arousal. "Louder, Y/N. Let me hear you," he hisses, hand in your hair, and pulls you up slightly. "T- two," you stammer. another slap echoes across the room. "Three! God Mr. Park, please." At this point, you’re not even sure what you’re begging for; your mind is numb with lust.

"T- twenty! Agh, fuck, please," you squirm under Jimins grasp. The throbbing of your clit has increased tenfold, and you can practically feel the shaking of your thighs through the desk. 

Jimin slips his hand between your legs, feeling the soft flesh of your inner thighs slicked with your juices. "You’re fucking dripping, Y/N. Look at you. Did getting punished turn you on this much, doll?" He swipes up your slit, teasing your fluttering hole. You scrunch your eyes in displeasure and try to back up into him, only to be stopped by a harsh smack onto your already throbbing cunt. You yelp and flop back on the desk, cheek pressing the surface.

You feel him rubbing his dick against your folds and sigh in relief. Suddenly, Jimin slams into you from behind with no warning causing you to let out a harsh groan. "Ah, professor!" you exclaim, balling your fists in pleasure at finally being stimulated. His cock seems even bigger from this angle, and your entrance stings delectably at the way he splits you open.

"You feel how tight your pussy is, princess? How tight it is for me? Nobody else makes you feel this needy. Nobody," Jimin mutters in your ear after pulling you up. He pulls your head back by your hair, exposing your neck, which he plants wet kisses on. He reaches down in front of you, tracing an achingly slow path from your stomach to your slit with his fingers. You’re reaching your orgasm at an embarrassingly fast rate due to all of the edging you’re been through, so when Jimin finally brushes over your clit, it’s no surprise that your walls tighten even more instantaneously.

"Ji- ‘m gonna cum," you moan wantonly. "Yeah? Is my little slut finally going to cum?" He hisses out at the way you tighten around him. You nod desperately, gripping his arm rubbing figure eights over your sensitive bud. 

"Oh god, Jimin, I feel it coming. Please please please let me cum. I'm being good for you, Mr. Park, please let me cum," you sob out incoherently as Jimin continues railing you from behind. You feel the ridges of his cock brushing your walls and shudder at his ministrations.

"Let go, princess, I got you. Cum for me. Tell me how good I’m making you feel," Jimin snarls, snapping his hips into yours, eager to get you to finally melt in his arms. You feel your orgasm crashing over you and you clamp down on his dick, legs shaking in relief. Jimin's grip on your hair tightens as he feels you pulsing around him, getting impossibly tight. Nevertheless, he continues thrusting into you. 

You mewl, trying to shift away from Jimin's hold as his fingers return to your clit, rubbing figure eights into them, "J- too m- much," you whimper out, straining against his arms.

"Yeah?" his smooth voice asks, "but I thought you wanted to cum, princess? Didn't you? I need to cum, Mr. Park. I need to cum now." He mocks you. “Well, that's what I'm doing doll. I'm. Making. You. Cum," he emphasizes each word with a harsh thrust, jolting you forward.

You're being reduced to a mess, tears streaming down your face and slick dripping down your thighs. You can feel your gummy walls tightening more and more on their own accord, without even trying. Without even realizing it, you've changed from trying to move away from Jimin's fingers to grinding down on his dick.

Jimin, however, notices this. "God, you're such a slut, Y/N. Weren't you just asking me to stop?" He raises your left leg onto the desk, allowing him to have more access to your folds. He slaps your clit when you don’t give a response and you yelp, clenching down on his dick. He slaps you a couple more times, and your cunt drips even more, making your thighs sticky with your honeyed juices. You can feel yourself nearing your orgasm once again from his motions.  

Suddenly, Jimin pushes you back on his desk and begins hammering into you from behind. "You're going to cum again, aren't you? Filthy little girl, didn't you just cum? Are you really that needy for some dick?" You try to hold back a whimper from his words but it slips from your lips. "You're really a whore, aren't you, baby?" 

In response, Jimin spanks you, and you yelp. "Keep doing that," he hisses when you clench down on his dick. "You like being punished, don't you?" You nod meekly in response. He smacks your already reddened ass again and you hiss at the stinging sensation. Paired with the pleasure his cock is giving you, thrusting so deep into you, you can feel yourself practically getting high off the feeling.

Jimin feels you cumming before you realize it yourself. His hips nearly stutter at the way your walls have clenched around his dick. He opts to rut his hips into yours, no longer being able to thrust in and out due to how tight you are. He reaches under your body to rub tight circles on your throbbing clit and you start cumming again, clenching erratically around his dick. "You cumming, Y/N? Be a good girl and let go for me. Get this fat cock all wet," he commands. You ball up your fists and dig your nails into your palms, pleasure coursing through your veins. Riding the course of your high, you wish for nothing more but to be in the moment. 

When you come down from your orgasm, Jimin finally pulls his hard dick out of you. You feel his precum and your cum drip down your thighs. Whining, you rub them together to get rid of the feeling but it only serves to make you stickier. Jimin parts your thighs and runs a hand up them to cup your pussy, pausing to feel your cunt still clenching from the aftershocks of your orgasm. He smacks your abused heat, jolting you forwards and causing you to grit your teeth in overstimulation. 

He flips you over, spreading your legs open. He leans over you, rubbing the tip of his dick over your swollen and throbbing clit, making you shiver. "Prof- professor, I can’t-" you begin but are interrupted my Jimin quickly shoving into you. Gasping, you clench down onto his dick, eyes rolling back into your head.

"You can, Y/N, and you fucking will," he grunts harshly, snapping his hips into yours. You grasp at his arm after feeling him in you deeper than before. The head of his cock nearly kisses your cervix and his impossibly hard dick stretches your tight cunt open even more, making you wince at the pleasurable pain.

"I- oh god, I really can’t. It feels-" you choke out through your tears. "It feels too- oh!" your head rolls back as Jimin hooks your legs over his shoulders, creating a new angle of penetration. He rubs your clit ever so slightly, the abused bundle of nerves pulsing under his touch. "It feels too what?" he hisses, rolling his hips upward so that his tip just barely grazes your g-spot. Too good, you want to say, but pleasure is clouding your mind and you can’t get the words out.

"That’s it, baby," he hums, "taking my fat cock so well even though you’re so- shit, you’re so fucking tight. Are you gonna cum again, hm? Cream all over my dick and make another mess?" you’re being reduced to a blathering mess, Jimin’s name rolling off the tip of your tongue. "Yeah? Can’t even hold it back a little? Even though I let you cum so many times, you still want more? Greedy little bitch," he spits at you.

When you clench down at his words, he starts pistoning his hips into yours, the sound of his balls slapping against your ass echoing around the room. His cock seems to be splitting you open even more, and you can feel every pulse of his dick on your walls. "Fuck, Y/N. I’m going to cum," he groans.

"I- I’m close too, Mr. Park. It- fuck, it feels really good," you breathe out as Jimin leans down over you. He slows his hips down, opting to roll his hips smoothly and brushing over your g-spot with painful accuracy. Hovering over you, his stare bores into yours, eyes flitting down to your lips, reddened and swollen from you biting them. You whimper and tilt your chin up towards him and he leans his head down to yours.

He lets his lips ghost over yours, warm breath brushing over your lips as his hips grind into yours. "P- please," you beg, and Jimin finally relents and melds his lips to yours, bringing the two of you into a searing kiss, groaning as you near each of your highs. You break the kiss to gasp out, "I’m c- cumming again Mr. Park."

"Yeah?" he breathes surprisedly, "your little pussy’s that sensitive that you’re gonna- fuck, you’re cumming already? So quickly?" he leans down as your orgasm washes over you, this one hitting you slowly and harshly. You arch your back into Jimin’s chest, hands gripping at the collar of his shirt. His thumb continues to gently rub over your clit, causing you to roll your eyes back into your head at the overstimulation. You start shaking underneath him, squirming to get away from the overload of senses, but he holds you in place as you ride your high for what seems to be like an eternity.

"That's a good girl," he soothes as you continue to writhe underneath him. "Look at you, stuffed so full of my cock it’s making you cry. Does that feel good, darling?" you nod, sobbing. When your orgasm starts to fade away, spots of white dotting your vision, he still doesn’t stop thrusting into you. 

You bite your lip, and seeing that he’s close, you whisper, "M- Mr. Park, I want you t- to cum too. I- in me." His hips stutter at your words. "Shit, yeah? You’d let me do that?" 

You nod, "want you to fill me up w- with your cum and s- stuff me so full of it that it’s gonna be in me for days. And I wanna fe- fuck, I wanna feel you in me even when I’m alone, professor." At your words, Jimin lets out a slightly animalistic growl and leans in. "You’d like that, huh?" he asks. "Me fucking you so well till you can’t think straight? Putting my cum in you so that when you walk out of here, it’s dripping down your pretty little thighs, making you look like the filthy little slut you really are? You think you deserve that?"

"Please, sir, I really want it," you beg, "please." With that, Jimin attaches his lips onto yours again, grinding his hips into yours even deeper as he finally orgasms. He doesn’t stutter his hips as he continues his ministrations, even though he can feel your walls desperately squeezing around him, milking his cock of its seed. You feel the thick ropes of his warm cum painting your inner walls every second. Each time he pulls out slightly, a bit of it leaks out of your cunt, dripping down your ass onto his desk. He continues fucking his cum into you until he’s satisfied with the way you’re shivering under him.

For a moment, all is still, nothing but the sound of the two of your breathing filling the air as you stare into each other’s eyes. "Um-," you begin, and Jimin quickly looks away, brushing his thumb over his plump lips. So that just happened. I fucked my teacher. I fucked Park Jimin.

"Wait here," he mutters, making your heart drop in disappointment. You nod, offering him a weak smile. Seeing this, Jimin reassures you, "don’t worry, I’m not leaving you. I’ll be right back," and cautiously steps out of the room after clothing himself.

You take this moment to recollect what exactly happened. Okay, so you just fucked your teacher. It still hasn’t sunk in yet, and probably won’t till you leave to clean yourself and look at the marks he’s made on your thighs and ass. You can’t help the giddiness you feel, like a kid who got the best candy bar in the world. After all, you got to hook up with your crush - in fact, the entire campus’s crush. The door creaks open and Jimin returns with some paper towels and wipes.

"H- hey," he smiles nervously. For the first time, he’s the one that’s stuttering. "Let me clean you up. It’s the least I could do after putting you through so much today." He spreads your legs gently, cheeks flushed, and begins wiping off the slick and cum between your thighs. 

"Jimin, you didn’t do anything bad, calm down. Well, I mean you fucked your student? But other than that you’re fine. I really liked it," you try to explain, stumbling over your words. He looks at you incredulously, but shakes his head, smiling. "I don't want to tell anyone about this," you continue, "and I highly doubt you will, so this can stay as our little secret." 

"Well looks like someone got fucked a little too happy. How come you never smile this much when I’m teaching, hm?" Jimin jokes after he finishes cleaning you up, kissing your knee gently. He hands you your thong that he’s kept for half the day and tells you to put it on. 

"You’re still going to the party, right? Jaebum’s?" he asks and you shrug. "You should go. Have a fun time there, drinking and all that stuff." He leans into you, whispering into your ear, "and if that rascal wants to get into your pants, he’s going to see your soaked panties covering up that precious little cunt of yours stuffed with all that cum of mine. Maybe then he’ll finally back off," he smirks.

You blush, "maybe, Mr. Park. You know, you’re pettier than I thought you’d be." Standing up, to face him, he pulls you in by the waist till your chests are touching. You wrap your arms around his neck and he leans in, whispering, "well, Y/N, I don’t think you knew too much about me in the first place." Closing the gap between the two of you, you give him a peck on the lips, which quickly turns into a more heated kiss, lips melding together and tongues colliding. When you break apart, a faint blush on the two of your cheeks, Jimin smiles fondly at you and you look away.

"Well," you hum contentedly, "if I don’t know much about you now, I’d at least like to get to know you better in the future." 

"One day," he breathes out. "One day."

Your grin, disentangling yourself from his arms. "One day soon, I hope. I’ve got to go now, but I’ll see you next class. Goodbye prof- Jimin. Have a great weekend."

He smiles softly, walking you to the door. "You too, Y/N. If you do end up going to that party, have fun. Stay safe."

[imeternallylove]

The gunshot - BBC Sherlock

Request by Anonymous

hey Tanya! Can I request you to write reader get shot x sherlock please! thank you so much 💌

____________________________________________

- Yay! Go go go! I mixed with my draft / kkk hope you like it! -

yasss it’s me again. This spoiled 'The Reichenbach Fall'

watch out!

Sherlock x Reader

genre: blood, character get injured

words: 4,096

summary: Y/N already in relationship with Sherlock (sry i dont mention about it much ;_;) And the whole part of this ep

"John!"

John runs to your body. Lifeless. John touches your neck to find your pulse. The shot wound is close to your heart. He looks down at your bullet hole, blood still pouring.

Sherlock starts sobbing, collapses beside your body lies down on the cement, cold and still. "No. No No. Y/N! Wake up!" He brushes off your hair behind your ear. Put your head on his chest, holding you, "Please. Don't leave me."

"Y/N!"

St Bart's. The lab. Molly's lab. Sherlock opens the plastic Petri dish and takes out one of the samples with tweezers. He drops the sample into a test tube that has some liquid in the bottom. The fluid begins to fizz. He suctions up some of the liquid and drops it onto a slide. Sherlock has found the first component in the mixture of items: 1. Chalk

Sherlock takes another sample and dissolves it. The results reveal another item: 2. Asphalt

Dissolving another sample into a dish: 3. Brick Dust

And another sample dissolved and heated over a Bunsen burner: 4. Vegetation

Later, he has another sample on a slide and is looking at it in the microscope. He quietly murmurs to himself. "I ... owe ... you." He turns his head and looks at a nearby computer screen. 'Glycerol molecule.'

He sighs while struggling to identify the item, seeing it in his head as:

5. ?????

"What are you?" He looks into the microscope again as Molly stands beside him, typing onto a laptop. She asks him. "What did you mean, 'I owe you.'? You said, 'I owe you.' You were muttering it while you were working."

Sherlock raises his eyes from the microscope and watches Y/N crossing the room. "Nothing. Mental note."

Molly sigh but continues. "You look sad." She glances towards Y/N. "When you think she can not see you."

Sherlock's eyes lift from the microscope and drift towards Y/N. She is looking through papers on the other side of the lab some distance away, unaware of the conversation. Sherlock turns his head and looks at her.

This time Molly looks serious, "Are you okay?" He opens his mouth, but she interrupts before he can speak. "And don't just say you are because I know what that means, looking sad when you think no-one can see you."

"But you can see me."

"I don't count." Molly looks at the floor. Sherlock blinks and looks at her. "What I'm trying to say is that if there's anything I can do, anything you need, anything at all, you can have me." She flinches and looks away briefly, turning away.

"What-what-what could I need from you?" Molly turns back to Sherlock. "Nothing." She shrugs. "Maybe not." She speaks nervously but firmly. The side of Sherlock's mouth twitches as if it doesn't know how to say the words.

"Well, actually, I-"

"I know you don't." Molly turns and walks away, leaving the room. He watches her go, then gazes into the distance thoughtfully for a moment before looking back to his microscope.

____________________________________________

Scotland Yard. After the great detective locates the traumatized children in a disused sweet factory in Addlestone. Sherlock is pacing outside an office while Y/N sits nearby. The door to the office opens and, Sally and Greg come out. Y/N stands up and walks over to the others. Greg looks seriously at Sherlock. "Now, remember, she's in shock and, she's just seven years old."

"Okay. Sherlock, you wait here." Y/N decides to walk into the room alone.

"Hello. Claudette, I..."

Y/N gets no further because Claudette lifts her head, takes one look at Y/N. She begins to scream in terror and continues screaming and scrambles to get away while pointing at her. "No-no, I know it's been hard for you..." But the girl continues screaming and scrambling to get away while pointing at her. "Claudette, listen to me..."

"Out. Get out!" Lestrade grabs her arm he bundles her out of the room as the girl screams continue.

Sherlock is standing at the window of another office looking out into the night through the slats of the Venetian blinds. Y/N sits close to Greg. Sally stands at the other side of the office watch him and Y/N thoughtfully.

Y/N looks down the floor. Her voice shakes. "The kid's traumatized. Something about me reminds her of the kidnapper? Makes no sense."

"So what's she say?" Sherlock asks while not turning back.

"Hasn't uttered another syllable," Sally replied.

"And the boy?"

Greg answer. "No, he's unconscious; still in intensive care."

In the building opposite Scotland Yard, all the lights in the offices come on. On the second floor, spray paint was applied to three of the office windows. Sherlock stares at the enormous letters:

I O U

Seconds later, the lights on that floor go out again. Behind Sherlock, the others are unaware of what he has just seen, their view blocked by the blinds. Sherlock deduces immediately, this kidnap is stage to resemble a fairytale. Moriarty told him last two months ago, Jim was breaking down all the keycode of the state.

He noticed Y/N complete in a panic. His eye widen.

Moriarty didn't want to destroy him but his heart.

Soon, the police -Even Lestrade begins to suspect that Y/N and Sherlock may be a front. Could you two be the real kidnapper?

____________________________________________

221B Baker St.

"You want to take me and Y/N to the station. Just saving you the trouble of asking."

Lestrade walks closer to Sherlock, he pulls in a breath. "Sherlock..."

Y/N shakes her head. "The scream?" Lestrade nodded at her.

"Who was it? Donovan? I bet it was Donovan. Am I somehow responsible for the kidnapping? Ah, Moriarty is smart. He planted that doubt in her head; that little nagging sensation. You’re going to have to be strong to resist. You can’t kill an idea, can you? Not once it’s made a home..." Sherlock gets up, reaches forward, and briefly places his index fingertip on Greg’s forehead between his eyes, "...There."

"Will you come?"

Sherlock turned away, sitting down at the laptop beginning to type. Silent. "He won't, Greg. I think." Y/N walks forward to Greg, gets to the door as he walks out of the living room.

"Give my regards to Sergeant Donovan." Sherlock sighing and exchanging a brief look with Y/N, Greg turns and heads off down the stairs. Y/N watches him go, then turns back towards Sherlock. She looks concerned about him.

Upstairs, Y/N has gone over to the right-hand window and looks out at the car parked outside as Greg and Sally go over to it and get in, Greg glancing up towards the window momentarily. As the car starts, Sherlock briefly looks at Y/N, "They'll be deciding."

"Deciding?"

"Whether to come back with a warrant and arrest me."

"You think?"

"Standard procedure."

Y/N bit her lips, "Should have gone with him. People will think-" Sherlock interrupts her. "I don’t care what people think."

"No. You'd care if they thought you were stupid, or wrong. John and I. And you know well." Y/N looks at the window.

"No. That would just make them stupid or wrong."

Angrily, Y/N turns towards him. Her eyes were red, "Sherlock, I don't want the world believing you are..." She breaks off as Sherlock lifts his head to look at her. They lock eyes for a long moment.

"That I am what?"

"A-" Her voice discontinue, "A fraud." She avoids his stare and looks out at the window again while Sherlock rolls his eyes and sits back in the seat. "You're worried they're right."

"What?"

"You're worried they’re right about me."

"No. I'm worried about you."

"That's why you're so upset. You can't even entertain the possibility that they might be right. You're afraid that you've been taken in as well."

Y/N still looking out of the window, stunned at what he said, "No. I'm truly not."

Sherlock leans forward her, "Moriarty is playing with your mind too." Furious, he slams his hand onto the table. "Can't you see what's going on?"

Y/N looks at him for a few seconds, then looks out, "No, I know you're for real."

"A hundred percent?"

Y/N quietly, turning back towards Sherlock, her voice firm. "You already know."

Sherlock locks eyes with her again then his mouth twitches with the trace of a smile. Y/N looks away once more.

____________________________________________

"You said that they wouldn't find me here. You said that I'd be safe here."

Y/N teeth bared, she glares at Moriarty, breathing heavily in pure fury. Her face is full of shock points at him. "So that's your source? Kitty! Oh, for goodness sake! Moriarty's Richard Brook? What are you talking about?"

"Look him up. Rich Brook –An actor. Sherlock Holmes hired to be Moriarty." Kitty just smirk.

Sherlock stares at Moriarty, who is still holding up his hands and looking at everyone nervously. Moriarty's voice is shaking as he turns to Y/N. "Ms. Y/L/N, I know you are a good detective." He backs into the corner of the room, appearing terrified under Y/N ferocious glare, "Don't... Don't h... Don't hurt me."

"No, you are Moriarty!" Y/N screams at Moriarty, pointing towards him furiously. She turns her head briefly and yells at Kitty, "He's Moriarty!" Then she turns back to him, "We've met, remember? You pushed me fell into the pool!"

Moriarty puts his hands briefly over his face, then holds them up in front of himself again, sounding as he is almost crying in fear. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry." He gestures towards Sherlock. "He paid me. I needed the work. I'm an actor. I was out of work. I'm sorry, okay?" He looks across to Sherlock again, this time keeping his Richard face on.

Breathing heavily, Y/N turns to Sherlock. "Sherlock, you'd better explain because I am not getting this." But Kitty cut off, she hands Y/N a folder. "Oh. I'll. I'll be doing the explaining – In print. It's all here – conclusive proof."

Y/N looking through the folder at other publicity stills of Rich together with his CV. Moriarty gestures towards Y/N, looking at Sherlock pleadingly. She furiously frowns at Kitty. "Bullshit! This man was on trial!"

"Yes..." Kitty points at Sherlock, "And you paid him; paid him to take the rap. Promised you'd rig the jury." Sherlock stares at her silently.

Kitty walks over to Moriarty and puts her arm around his shoulders while he stands with his hands still held out in front of him. "I'm ... I'm The Storyteller. It's on DVD. Just tell her. It's all coming out now. It's all over! Tell Y/N!"

Sherlock's eyes are wide and terrified. He shouts Moriarty furiously. "Stop it. Stop it NOW!"

Moriarty backs away from Sherlock and up a short flight of stairs towards the bedroom on the upper level of the flat. He turns and bolts up the stairs. "Don't hurt me!"

Sherlock and Y/N chase after him. Y/N pick up a pistol. "Don't let him get away!"

Moriarty runs into the bathroom on the other side of the bedroom. With Kitty still at the bottom of the stairs and therefore unsighted, and Y/N halfway up the stairs with his vision blocked by Sherlock ahead of him, Moriarty turns and grins manically at Sherlock for a brief second before slamming the door shut. Sherlock runs to the door and struggles momentarily to open it, then shoves it open but, he has already disappeared through the open window opposite. There's a crash outside as if Moriarty has landed on top of a dustbin. Sherlock looks out of the window, then turns to stop Y/N.

"No, no, no. He'll have a back-up." Sherlock heads towards the stairs. Kitty backs down to get out of his way but doesn't move quickly, slowing him down.

"D'you know what, Sherlock Holmes? I look at you now and, I can read you." He stops at the bottom of the stairs as she gets into his face. Turn and head out of the door. "And you ... repel ... me."

Y/N, one hand still holding the folder of the articles about Rich, the other still holding a pistol. She put it to Kitty's head, pushing her aside, ruthlessly ordering her,

"Will you stop it or let me place the bullet over your head?"

The pistol still points at Kitty, until the sound of Y/N footsteps fades away.

____________________________________________

The Diogenes Club. Mycroft walks across one of the common rooms, where an old man is fast asleep in an armchair, and goes into the smaller private room, reaching for the door handle to close it, but he stops when he realizes that John is sitting in one of the armchairs with his back to him. John is looking through Kitty’s file.

"She has really done her homework, Miss Riley." John's upset, "Things that only someone close to Sherlock could know. Y/N give me this. She was really disappointed, you know? I'm just got back from the Baskerville and, everything messed up."

Mycroft closed the door, coming in, " Ah."

"Have you seen your brother's address book lately? Three names: his girl, yours and mine, and Moriarty didn't get this stuff from Y/N and me."

Mycroft walks across the room to face him. "John..."

"So how does it work, then, your relationship? D'you go out for a coffee now and then, eh, you and Jim?" Mycroft sits down in the chair opposite and opens his mouth but, John interrupts again. His voice is full of controlled anger. "Your own brother and you blabbed about his entire life to this maniac."

"I never intend... I never dreamt ..."

"So this ...th-th-this." John interrupts, looks through the papers again... Is what you were trying to tell me, isn't it? Did you also tell Y/N? 'Watch his back, 'cause I've made a mistake.'" John slaps the papers down on the table beside his chair and sits back, clearing his throat as he tries to stay calm. "How did you meet him?"

Mycroft draws in a long breath, "People like him: we know about them; we watch them. But James Moriarty... The most dangerous criminal mind the world has ever seen and in his pocket the ultimate weapon: a keycode. A few lines of computer code that could unlock any door."

"And you abducted him to try and find the keycode?"

"Interrogated him for weeks."

"And?"

"He wouldn't play along. He just sat there, staring into the darkness. The only thing that made him open up..." He sends the photo to John, 'Get Sherlock' photo, "I could get him to talk... Just a little, but," He trails off.

John grimly finishes the sentence for him. "In return, you had to offer him Sherlock's life story. So one big lie – Sherlock's a fraud –But people will swallow it because the rest of it's true." John leans forward in his chair. "Moriarty wanted Sherlock destroyed, right? And you have given him the perfect ammunition."

John smiles bitterly at him. Mycroft lowers his eyes. John pulls in a sharp breath and then gets to his feet, turning towards the door.

"John."

John turns back. Mycroft looks up at him. "I'm sorry."

"Oh, please..." John shakes his head in disbelief and turns away, laughing humourlessly as he walks to the door.

"Tell him, would you?"

John opens the door and walks away, leaving the door open behind him.

____________________________________________

Bart's lab. The lights are now on. Sherlock sits alone on the floor with his back against the bench. He is bouncing a small rubber ball off the floor and cupboard in front of him and catching it before repeating the action constantly. John comes in.

"Got your message."

Sherlock catches the ball and holds on to it. "The computer code is key to this. If we find it, we can use it– Beat Moriarty at his own game."

"What d'you mean, 'Use It'?"

"He used it to create a false identity, so we can use it to break into the records and destroy Richard Brook." He looks up at John, "Is Y/N in Mycroft's protection now?"

"Yes." He replies. "And you bring back Jim Moriarty again." John leans against the counter, staring at his mate.

"Somewhere in 221B, somewhere– On the day of the verdict, he left it hidden." Sherlock turns and faces the bench, putting both hands on the work surface. John walks to stand beside him. "Y/N think Moriarty hasn't the keycode." He hisses in a breath and looks at him. "She thinks Moriarty made a trick for us, Sherlock. She told me that the keycodes are meaningless."

"He needs me to finish 'The final problem'." Sherlock stands up, "If I don't. He must do something bad to Y/N and me."

Both of them stare ahead of them, thinking. After a minute, he turns and walks across the lab, blowing the breath out again. Sherlock figure something out, he pursed his lips then look at John. He lifts the fingers of his right hand, hesitates for a moment. Straightening up, Sherlock turns his back to John, takes his phone out of his pocket, and begins to type a text message:

Come and play.

Bart’s Hospital rooftop.

SH

He pauses for a moment, then adds:

PS. Got something

of yours you might

want back.

Sending the message, Sherlock tucks his phone away into his jacket and then turns back towards the bench, his eyes full of thought.

____________________________________________

I'm waiting...

JM

Y/N taking her feet off the chair and standing. Walk across the room. Looking at Mr. and Mrs. Holmes were fall asleep on the dining table. She picks up Sherlock's coat, opens the door, and leaves the Holmes residence.

____________________________________________

Bart's rooftop. The two men have turned towards each other at the edge of the roof.

Sherlock points at Moriarty, "I can prove that you created an entirely false identity."

"Oh, just kill yourself. You have chosen the right places, Sherlock. Finish our 'final problem.' It's a lot less effort." Moriarty was wearily exasperated. Sherlock turns away, pacing distractedly. "Go on. For me."

In a sudden movement, Sherlock grabs Moriarty by the collar of his coat with both hands and spins him around so that Jim's back is to the drop. He stares into his face and then shoves him back one step nearer the edge. Jim looks at him with interest as Sherlock's breathing becomes shorter. "You're insane."

"You're just getting that now?"

Sherlock shoves Moriarty further back, now holding him over the edge. Jim whoops almost triumphantly and gazes back at him with no fear in his eyes, holding his hands out wide and committing himself to Sherlock's grasp.

"Okay, let me give you a little extra incentive." Sherlock frowns. Moriarty's voice becomes more savage. "Your friends will die if you don't."

Fear begins to creep into Sherlock's eyes. "Y/N. John."

"Not just that two dolls." Moriarty whispers, "Everyone."

"Mrs. Hudson."

Moriarty speaks in a whisper, with a delighted smile, "Everyone, there's no stopping them now."

Furiously, Sherlock pulls Moriarty back upwards to safety. Jim stares into his face. "Unless my people see you jump."

Sherlock gazes past him, breathing heavily and appearing lost in horror. Jim shakes himself free of his grasp and smiles triumphantly.

"You can have me arrested; you can torture me; you can do anything you like with me, but nothing's gonna prevent them from pulling the trigger. Your only three friends in the world will die. Unless..."

"Unless I kill myself – Complete your story."

Moriarty nods and smiles ecstatically. "You've gotta admit that's sexier."

"And I die in disgrace."

"Of course. That's the point of this."

Sherlock moves away across the roof. He takes several shallow anxious breaths, his stare is distant and losing. He lifts his gaze and, his expression becomes thoughtful.

"He won't jump."

Moriarty spins around furiously. He doesn't look at his back as Y/N comes onto the roof and walks towards him. Wicked sigh, "Ah. My dear Y/N. I should get myself a live-in one. A pet like you."

Y/N pointing the pistol into the air fires it three times. Moriarty laughs at Sherlock. "Wow. Look at this doll be naughty. You pretty in his coat." Y/N fires the pistol at the air again, "If will have someone dies today. Not him. Not anyone!" She walks directly to Sherlock.

"Then you will?"

"God's Sake Y/N!" Sherlock shouts out at her, "I said don't come here!"

Y/N points the pistol point at Moriarty again. A few steps can reach where Sherlock is. "No. You will."

"I texted her to invite. And here my doll, Y/N." Moriarty blinks, then closes his eyes briefly. He looks at Y/N. Jim smiles and opens his eyes again. Jim insanely out a delighted laugh and his voice becomes more high-pitched. "Urgh. Loving is boring. You both are boring. Really. I have told you;”

“I'll burn the heart of you. Sherlock Holmes."

Moriarty continues to blink with his gaze lowered. He nods almost frenetically, though his voice stays soft, "Well, good luck with this show."

In rapid succession, Moriarty raises his eyes to Sherlock, grins maniacally. While he reaches into his waistband with his other hand and pulls out a pistol and raises it towards Sherlock. As Sherlock instinctively stands still, Jim pulls the trigger.

"No!" Y/N scream loudly.

In super-slow-motion, the bullet heads towards sherlock who stands there unmoving. Y/N, who had no doubt anticipated that this was going to happen, hurls herself frontways in front of him, trying to grab his shoulder to push him to fall the floor against the bullet. But, the bullet impacts her midden back. Blood sprays outward and immediately there is a large bloodstain on her shirt. Y/N crying out, Sherlock moved forward to pull her into his embrace instantly.

"Y/N. Y/N!" Sherlock stares in horror as blood begins to trickle across through Y/N's back in his hands. Moriarty's eyes are fixed and open and there is a smile of victory on his face. Sherlock watches John fire Jim from the rooftop. He breathing noisy and frantic. Over his shoulder, Y/N starts to slump in his grasp. She slumps more, gasping in pain as her arms drop from around him. He takes her weight and moves her back so he can see her face. She is now unconscious, her eyes are closed. Sherlock sits on the floor, gently bringing her lies in his lap. Kisses her forehead, sobbing and, look around with panic. "No. No, no."

John runs to her body. Lifeless. "Jesus Christ. Y/N." John touches her neck to find the pulse. The shot wound is close to her heart. He looks down at the bullet hole, blood still pouring.

Sherlock starts crying, almost collapses beside Y/N's body that lies down on the cement, cold and still. "No. No No. Y/N! Wake up!" He brushes off her hair behind the ear. Put her head on his chest, holding her, "Please. Don't leave me."

"Y/N!"

____________________________________________

Hospital. After the surgery to remove, the bullet is complete. Y/N didn't lose much blood. So her surgery and recovery are going well.

A drip hangs on a stand beside Y/N's bed where she lies with a nasal cannula on her face. A rotary fan is on the cabinet beside her bed and the shadow of its rotating blades flickers across her face.

Y/N regain consciousness. Look up to where she can see Sherlock standing beside the bed. Her vision is blurry. Sherlock stroked her forehead softly. "I'm here. Y/N. Just sleep, not time to wake up." He kisses her forehead. "It's won't happen again, sweetheart." Then her vision becomes even more blurry, and her eyes close.

____________________________________________

"Goodness sake Mary. I hate this soup!"

"Nah. He on the case, Y/N." Mary takes another spoonful of soup. Try giving her some to eat. "Eat. For Sherlock."

Y/N frowning. "I'm not a child Mary!" She opens her mouth, eats, and shrugs her shoulder.

"A couple of spoons more. And, it's time for your medicine." Y/N opens her mouth to speak but Mary cuts off. "Nurse order."

"Wait, are you recording me?" Y/N noticed Mrs. Hudson giggle and pick up the phone to record the video of Mary and her. The landlady chuckle, she respond. "No dear. I'm facetime with the boys."

"What?" Both of Watson's and Holmes's girls are confused.

The loud laugh sounds through from Mrs. Hudson's phone. Sherlock orders her to give a phone to Y/N. "Hey, love."

Mrs. Hudson and Mary are a wink to each other behind Y/N.

"Hey. What's about the case now?"

Mary looks at Y/N talks to the phone. Happiness. Moriarty is dead. Life is good now.

____________________________________________

guyssss! thanks for reading my work!!!

[guessimjoiningthespidermanfandom]

Dozed Off

Peter Parker x Fem!Reader

Peter Parker x Black!Reader

Peter Parker x Girlfriend!Reader

Word Count: .5k

“He frowned and pulled you to sit in his lap. He could see your eyes were still wet from crying. He didn’t want to force you into talking but how was he supposed to comfort you if you wouldn’t tell him what was wrong.”

Warnings: Mentions of crying and fighting.

Masterlist

A/N: I just finished sobbing then remembered I’d written a comfort blurb like a couple of weeks ago so I came back to edit it. I’m cool now except for the fact I don’t know what I was crying about. Hope y’all enjoy it sorry it’s so short. This has been in my drafts and I dont remember writing it but I’ll post it now. 

“I came here because I didn’t want to be found.” You mumbled pulling your knees up to your chest at the top of the slide. 

You’d gotten into a fight with your parents over nothing really and stormed off. They called Peter because they figured you’d be with him. You weren’t but he had an idea of where you might be and he thought to check on you. You were at the park the two of you would hang out at when you were younger. 

“I know, jus’ wanted to make sure you were safe.” He said moving up the steps to the slide. “I can leave if you really want to be alone.”

You shook your head. You didn’t want him to leave. 

He squeezed his legs into the spot next to you. You leaned into his chest letting him wrap his arm around you. 

He kissed your forehead. “Wanna talk about it, princess?” 

“Not really.” You sniffled. 

He frowned and pulled you to sit in his lap. He could see your eyes were still wet from crying. He didn’t want to force you into talking but how was he supposed to comfort you if you wouldn’t tell him what was wrong. 

You shifted to a more comfortable position fully straddling him.

“You smell good.” You mumbled into his neck. “What’d you do today?” 

You really just wanted to hear him talk. He rubbed your back while telling about his school day.

“Oh, and I got an A on that test I took last week,” He paused, placing his hands on your waist and pulling you away from him a bit. He could feel you dozing off. “Am I boring you?” He teased, pressing a kiss to your temple. 

“I’m sorry.” You cut yourself off with a yawn. “I didn’t mean to ignore you, keep talking, I'll respond this time.”

“No it’s okay you’re clearly tired. You can take a nap.” 

“You sure?” You scrunched up your face at him.

“Positive.” He smiled, pressing a quick kiss to your lips. 

He pulled you back to him, relishing in your warmth. 

“Can you keep talking?” You placed light kisses on his shoulder. “Just until I fall asleep please?” You asked looking into his eyes this time. You looked so sleepy and adorable that it made his heart clench. 

“Of course.” He wouldn’t have been able to say no even if he wanted to. 

He continued rambling about random things until he heard your breathing even out. He then made it his mission to be still for however long you would be asleep.

He used your phone to tell your parents you would just stay with him and May tonight and you were well before shutting it off. 

“I love you.” He whispered to you. 

That was the first time he’d ever said those words out loud to you (he’d thought them a lot) and you were asleep so nothing bad could happen. 

“I love you too, Parker.” You smiled.

You were not asleep.