#i keep trying to force everything i make into a box so at least SOMEONE will read it and maybe maybe enjoy it.

[i-write-sin-not-tragedy]

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[aphroditesmoon]

wish you'd ask me

clarisse la rue x fem!demigod!reader

summary: you're not good at reading subtle hints, clarisse realises that maybe she should've been more upfront with her feelings for you.

warnings: fluff, oblivious!reader, clarisse is down bad, reader is very neurodivergent coded, kissing, flirting, title n fic inspired by 'Wish You'd Ask Me' by Matt Maltese.

A/N: thank you for 1.9k followers!! I love you all dearly, my ask box and dms r always open, im glad that my writing is being enjoyed by so many people<3

wc: 4.5k

You have been in camp half blood for more than 4 years. You have made yourself at home for the last several years. 

It was easy to view yourself as lesser or inadequate in comparison to other mortals during your days in the real world before you were sent to camp. The world has never failed to remind you of how different you were. Always too much or not good enough, always special and never normal

And it wasn't like you were dying for some sort of diagnosis to justify why you are the way you are, but upon discovering that you were actually a demigod, it felt like all the questions you've been harboring to yourself was finally answering themselves. 

Everything clicked. Everything made sense, though at the same time, it felt impossible. You were a very confused little girl when you first arrived at camp. A girl who just wanted someone to tell them that it'll all be alright in the end.

And you still remembered the first person to hold you by your shoulders and made you look into their eyes as they told you that it was all going to be okay.

The girl with beautiful long curls and dark piercing eyes. The girl that everyone else, apparently, was afraid of.

But you could never be afraid of Clarisse La Rue. 

Not with the way she smiles when every time she sees you, the way she never fails to make you feel included even in activities you're not capable of participating in. Not with the way your whole body electrifies every time your skin touches, when your hands brush against each other. 

It didn't matter what anyone think, because no one could change the perception you've built of her. Clarisse La Rue is good. Or at least she is to you.

When you first heard of the rumours surrounding her, you did think better than to force a friendship on her. You strayed away from her and stuck to your cabin siblings and your books, but you noticed daily how she'd still go out of her way to talk to you at least once a day.

It didn't need to be a long conversation, just a passing acknowledgement. An easygoing 'hey, how've you been doing.' Sometimes she'd even go as far as cracking a joke with you.

With how serious her face is whenever she make the jokes, you'd have to think twice as hard and thrice as faster than another person to try and guess if she was being genuine or not so you could fit in a necessary laugh when you needed to.

Even as her anger became more apparent because of the new kid's accidental climb to fame and embarrassing the Ares' cabin, she still found time to make a conversation with you.

It had been long since you tried to ignore or avoid her. You learned that her attention towards you is harmless, and that she seemed much more comfortable telling you certain things compared to others. If she has been viewing you as some sort of safe box, then you don't really mind it. You liked listening to her talk and keeping her heart's intent as your secret.

You too, talking to her. To some people, you are reserved,  

and to others, talkative. Either way, people find it easy to discard you at any moment they decide you are irritating.

But Clarisse listens. And she asks questions, she's patient- much patient that anyone could anticipate or guess. 

It may be hard for others to believe, but Clarisse is more complex than she seems. She had the capacity to be gentle, and she had the capacity to respect boundaries. The more time you spent with her, the more that side becomes easy for you to access.

Today, however,  marks a new record for your friendship with her. A few weeks ago, she had informed you of her newfound interest in the history of folklore monsters. What a coincidence that you were currently self-studying on that specific topic.

She insisted that you hook her in on whatever it is you're learning. She had even gotten you a doughnut to eat together outside the library as you told her of your insights of dragons and their theorized blindness and incapability to differentiate a variety of prey.

The conversation went well, she seemed immensely in awe of your knowledge and had no problem telling you how she felt. 

You even gave her some book recommendations, though you knew she wasn't much of a reader.

You felt a shift in your relationship that night and had spent the next three days studying more and more about the topic. And today, you had asked her to spend the evening with you. 

You shouldn't feel so nervous asking her to hang out. That is what friends do, after all.

She found you in the library, sitting on the floor in between two large bookshelves. She had been right on time and enthusiastically so. The two of you sat together, hidden by the shelves as some semblance of privacy. 

Clarisse looked confused when you had explained that you indeed wanted to spend the rest of the day in the library, but she accompanied you anyways.

You could never get sick of the smell of the books. Old and new, they all have some nostalgic past tied in between the pages, begging to be discovered. 

You had your back on the walls with tinted windows above your head as she's seated opposite of you in a criss-crossed position.

Today, the library isn't as packed as usual. There were still people walking in and out and checking out the books on the counter, but not too many that it became obnoxiously loud and annoying. 

After finishing another book of Monsters and how to spot them, you're feeling knowledgeable enough to explain the lore of the Giants to Clarisse, she had asked you about this the other day, giants have been long extinct to the point that some might even say they may have never even existed. And so you were interested in sharing with her all of the information you have learned about the majestic species of a beast.

You started with the general information. The basic understanding of what a Giant is the mythhs of Giants and the validity of those sources. Clarisse listened closely in the beginning, never interrupting you unless she had an actual question.

She seemed in awe of the stories you tell her of. You don't blame her, for you yourself have been most interested in the topic of Giants.

You were an hour an a half in when noticed her attention faltering. She leaned against the cases of books, her eyes twitched slightly when you began to explain the different types of giants, and the difference of how they operate.

Her hands are folded together on her lap, and you can feel her listening in on everything you're telling her as she adds in some commentary here and there, but you also felt that she wasn't entirely in on the conversation.

The dim lights of the library made the atmosphere feel warm and secluded, even with its vast space and many other campers hanging around in the other tables and shelves. You made sure to keep your voice low as you spoke in fear of the librarian kicking you out. 

You had a good reputation with the library workers, they liked how organized and polite you were. 

"A lot of people think their greatest strength is their size, which is valid, they are huge, but their real weapon is their mouth." You told Clarisse, ignoring the litter of books by your left that you had brought over for reference.

"They kiss you to death?" She asks suspiciously. You laughed shortly and shook your head. "No, I mean their breath."

She responds with an 'ohh.' 

"They're giants, so their mouth is large too, and you can easily tell what they had for breakfast even from their tall height. Their breaths are also known to be so rancid it could kill you, because they don't exactly eat what we eat." 

She raises a brow as she stretches her hands upwards. "Isn't that ogres?" 

"It's both." You confirmed.

You were about to continue your explanation but halted by instinct as you notice how her mouth keeps pursing together as if unsatisfied, and she has that look on her face that mimicked a confused expression. You're don't think there's anything to be confused of.

"Are you okay?" You asked her worriedly. Clarisse sits up straighter at the question and waved a hand off to assure you she's fine. "Of course, no yeah- I'm fine."

"You seem bored, you're not really interested in what I'm saying are you?” She opens her mouth to counter your words but hesitates to say anything. 

"I- well, I like giants-" She attempts, "-no you don't. " 

"No. I don't." She admits with a sigh. "But I thought you said you were interested in these kind of stuff?" You questioned her. "Well, yeah, like the general idea of it. I mean, I don't hate it, and I like hearing you talk about it." She answers with a shrug.

"Then why do you look disappointed? If you didn't want to come, you could've just told me. I wouldn't get mad." You told her honestly. It was conflicting for you to see her so confused on what to say, being so picky with the words she chooses.

You figured she's probably reluctant to hurt your feelings. That is a notion you're used to. You'd rather she tell you the truth to your face than to be catered around like a time ticking bomb that everyone's so afraid might explode at any time. 

"When you asked me out yesterday, you told me this would be an 'evening to remember." She tells you with such confidence like it was an explanation to her weird behaviour today.

"You don't think this is an evening to remember?" You sincerely inquire.

"No, I do! I just- well, when you said that I didn't think you'd mean we'd be doing this." Your frown deepens as you try to figure out what she means, eyeing her body language closely. “What do you mean? I told you I wanted to hang out.” 

A part of you is offended. She was the one who had said she liked hearing you speak, why would she be disappointed that this was your idea of spending time together?

"I don't know, I thought we'd just be doing...something else?"

It didn't matter what she had really meant with that. You felt completely embarrassed once she finished her sentence. Why was it that everyone else had no problem having long conversations with their friends, but when it came to you, it's all too awkward, unnecessary, and odd? 

You liked Clarisse, you considered her your friend. Sometimes you wonder if it could ever be more, but you never entertain those thoughts because you don't want to ruin what the two of you already have. 

But moments like these resemble a huge slap in the face by the universe.

You couldn't even be good friends with her, how ridiculous of you to think that there could ever be something more.

"Okay, um, maybe we should just go back to our cabin." You decided whilst standing up and picking up the stack of books you're currently borrowing from the library, ready to leave the place without waiting for her.

"Hey, wait." She called out as you walked past her. You spared her a glance, trying your best not to show how upset you are.  “We're friends." She says it so much like a question that you weren't sure if she's even sure of the fact herself until she continued speaking. "I like hanging out with you."

Another thing that you weren't sure if she really meant. "Sure." You replied thinking it's the most suitable response. 

Before she could say anything else, you turned around and started picking up your pace until you disappeared out of her sight.

—

You have been consistently ignoring Clarisse. Which proved to be harder than expected.

When you pass by her camp or the training ground, you make a mental note to always look down or to your front as to never accidentally cross eyes with her.

And everytime you hear her call out your name, you keep walking like you didn't even hear her, knowing that she wouldn't be bold enough to call for you again. After all, she still had a reputation to uphold.

If ignoring her wasn't hard enough, having to deal with how you felt for her is worse.

You've been avoiding confrontation with yourself for weeks even before you decided to go no contact with her.

And so far, you thought you've been handling it pretty well. Except for days where you don't see her where she's expected to be. You tell yourself that you don't care as you make your way to training in the day and reading in the evening, and yet you still go back on your own words when you asked a passerby Ares kid on where his cabin leader was.

"She's dunking some kid's head into a toilet bowl." Of course she was.

You thanked the dude and went back on your way to your cabin. It's close to dusk, the sky is turning orange and the sun is dipping itself below the earth. You take your time returning to your cabin as you enjoy the way the sun slowly removes itself from anyone's viewing.

You wondered to yourself if things like these are what makes you weird or off-putting to some people.

Was enjoying nature and having niche interests only cute when it's done by girls pretty enough to be cool or if it's only in romance movies or books.

You don't find yourself weird, in fact you think all of your hobbies are pretty common and usual, and yet the way Clarisse had spoken to you at the library last week had made you feel unnatural.

You had wanted to do normal people things with her, but maybe your perception of normal is different to her.

Either way, you are pretty hurt with how she reacted. You loved her still, of course. It's kind of hard to unlike the girl you've been obsessed with since you were 15.

Once you finally reach your cabin, you quickly put down all of your books and your tiny sling back by the side before making it to the shower to refresh yourself before dinner.

You thought it hilarious of how hard you're trying not to care about Clarisse, and yet as you're cleaning yourself up, changing your clothes and attempting to read at least 15 pages of your World's Most Dangerous Beasts book, you could only think of her.

What would it take for her to think that you're cool, what kind of things did she want to do instead of listening to you yap around for 2 hours on what is an equivalent of a boring dinosaur facts, not that you really think dinosaurs are boring.

During dinner, you kept to siblings and had to make yourself finish your plate as your anxiety wrecking thoughts have a way of deriving you of an appetite. You also had to convince yourself to not search for her at the other tables which took more strength than one would expect.

But you succeeded, and you were now sure that the only obstacle left for the day was to try and fall asleep without the thoughts of her keeping you up.

Clarisse is a force, a fierce daughter of Ares, and a cabin leader who had much better things to do then hole up at quiet small places with you.

And just because she was nice enough to mantain a good relationship with you for 4 years, does not mean that you're worth her time. Or at least that's what you tell yourself.

That night, you managed to fall asleep after an hour of recalling Harpy facts in repetition. Counting sheeps had never worked on you, so you had to find something much more active to tire out your brain.

You dreamed of Clarisse with her hair down, holding your hand and pulling you closer so she could slip a flower on your ear.

And just as she's looking down at you, moving closer to do what it seemed like to kiss you, you awoke with a jolt, swearing under your breath as if you'd just gotten jumpscared by a ghost.

Someone's palms moved to shut your lips as you're met with a girl, hovering over you in the dark. Clarisse's dark eyes were recognizable, but it sent a shot of adrenaline through your body still.

"Shh." She whispered to your face, hand still keeping your mouth shut. "I'm going to remove my hands now." She whispered again. You nod in understanding and waited for her to pry her hand away from your face.

"What are you doing here?!" You exclaimed as quiet as possible as she helped you sit up.

"I'm sneaking you out." She answers with a wink. "It's 2 in the morning." You waved your hand around at the darkness and sleeping children. "3 in the morning, and yeah, I know. That's why it's called sneaking around." She corrects you with a grin so devilish that if you hadn't known her for a long time, you'd assume she's about to turn you into a new toilet bowl or dumpster boxing victim.

You sighed loudly and glared at her despite your fast beating heart. Her hand remained on top of yours until the minute becomes more awkward and she removes it as if she just remembered that she's been holding your hand.

Without explanation,  she climbed out of your bed and tiptoes to the open cabin door. You're still sitting up and looking at her with conflicted feelings.

Only after she turns back to you, cocking her head towards the entrance, do you give into her request and softly leave the comfort of your bed and trail after her.

"Where are we going?" You asked after her as she kept walking. Instead of responding, she asks you another question back, "Can you swim?"

"We're going swimming?" You watch her shrug in return from behind her and became even more distressed.

"So, is this your idea of having fun and hanging out then?" She laughs drily and slowed down so you could catch up. You walked fast enough until you're beside her and waited for her to talk. "You sound surprised, I would've thought that after 4 years of friendship, you'd know by now that I love doing things that includes active movements."

You did know that, it's a bit hard to not notice how much working out, training and running fuels her even more.

"And why are we doing it in the middle of the night?" The walk towards the lake by the back of the forest was short, considering that your cabin is the closest to the location.

You almost tripped and fell over a stick, but Clarisse was quick to scoop you back up by the back of your shirt. "Thanks." You mumbled to her. "And you haven't answered my question."

Clarisse pulled her shirt over her head and tossed it on the ground without caring of your presence. You, having more moral obligations than her, twisted your face to your left when she began to pull her trousers off. "Too many people in broad daylight." She tells you.

That is a valid reason, this lake is mostly known as a hook up spot, and true to it's cause, many dating campers have been caught together here during dawn or late evenings.

You braved yourself to turn towards her again slowly and realised that she had already hopped into the water. She had a sports bra on and a boxer.

And though you yourself had a tank top and shorts on, you contemplate the idea of suicide as a better choice than having to strip in front of her.

"Are you gonna get in, or are you just gonna gawk at me from there?" You were grateful for the dark being able to hide your flushed face from her, but deep down, you knew that she probably saw it anyways because of the shining bright moonlight.

"I can't swim." You told her.

"That's fine, the water's not very deep." You ransacked your brain for reasons to decline her offer, but at the same time, a small part of you yearned to take this risk that you've been so afraid of for gods knows whatever reason.

Clarisse is there, in the water and under the moonlight. You are only a few steps away from her. And like she said, the water isn't deep, only waist length. She stares back at you with a raised brow like she's challenging you to join her.

"Turn around first." You tell her. She smirked slightly before slowly spinning to the opposite direction. "You know I've seen you naked before right?"

"What?" You choked out, aghast. "Who do you think changed your clothes for you when you first got to camp." Oh, that.

Your shoulder relaxes as you realize she's talking about the first time you met. "That's was a long time ago." You noted. She hummed im agreement. "Yeah, we've both grown since."

You told her she could turn around once you're inside the water. Forgetting about the heighy difference between you two, the water was high enough to reach your chest, trying your best not to trip underwater the way you always do on dry ground, your hand instinctively reached outnfor her shoulder.

Clarisse held your forearm tightly and drew your closer to her until you're inches away from eachother.

You breathed in sharply and felt the need to fill in the awkward silence. "So, you...like swimming, huh?"

"Yes, evidently so." She answered. "Right right, can't sit still and all that." She actually chuckled at your sarcasm, making you proud of yourself.

"You know, even before I came to camp Half Blood, I use to be a pretty active person, running track, volleyball, sometimes swimming." Your eyes widened in curiosity. "Really?" She nodded.

"The counselor told my mom that I just had so many untapped energy, which I guess is a code for anger issues." Her grip on your forearm moves higher until her palm is over your shoulder.  "She told her that it'd be best for me to find a...healthy way, to channel that energy, and for my strong competitiveness. So I joined what I could, and that's how I spent most of my free time there. Besides, I never was that good academically. So, I ought to at least be good at something, right?"

"You are good." You blurted out. Your embarrassment faded away when you saw her smile. "You think so?"

"Yeah." You assured her. Her other hand had snaked around your waist without you noticing. Only when you moved slightly do you notice her holding you softly.

"The moon is really nice tonight, isn't it?" You said, trying to diffuse the tension. You pointed your finger up to the sky at the singular white orb.

She glanced up and let out a 'huh.'

"I like it when it's bright and whole like this, the moon in all of its glory. You don't even notice the starts around it when it's glowing like that." You could stare at the moom forever, even longer than the way you've been staring at the sun.

You believed in it the way children do with their birthday candle. To you, the moon has always been a symbol of hope or comfort for your future. Your fascination for it existed from when you were a child, the way it'd follow you from behind as you gazed upon it from the back of the car seat whilst your parent drove down the road.

The way it moved above you as you walked home from school, like one of the gods themselves watching over you.

"Nothing compares to the moon." You announced aloud, watching as the clouds around it began to gather over it. "Yeah, It's beautiful." You hear Clarisse speak.

As your head snapped back to her, you found that she had already been facing you.

"I like the moon...but not as much as I like you." She whispered loud enough for your ears only. Her face leans closer to yours, your noses brushing together. "Not as much as I like to hear your voice, when you tell me about your little harpy facts-"

"Oh, I haven't told you about the harpies yet." You cut her off. "I just finished that chapter this morning actually and-"

"-and, you can tell me about it after I'm done talking." You blushed and became silent, letting her speak.

Clarisse exhaled breathily, fanning your face with the subtle warm air. "I like doing things that friends do with you, but I don't want to be your friend anymore."

"Oh."

"I want to be more than friends." She elaborated.

"Oh." Oh.

You feel a sudden tightness in your chest, from anxiety or from butterflies is undecided. "You want to be best friends?" You joked, laughing nervously.

Clarisse snorted at your joke, but she was still grinning widely. "Best friends, If that's what you want to call it."

There was a moment of understanding shared between a second of shared gazes before her lips attached themselves to yours. An urgency, approval, meaning that can't be described by words.

Whatever gentleness there was inside of her before had vanished. Clarisse kissed you like a starved woman. Her lips craved yours like it'd be the last time she'll ever know how you taste like.

Your hands clasped on her shoulder and neck for support as she embraced you tighter to her body. You let her tongue slip into your mouth, meeting your own.

And as they danced together, inhaling all there is in your lips, every secret and every confession that have died on the tip ofnyour tongues, you are sure that no heaven nor hell could tear you open to see you back together like this.

You push her back abruptly, letting fresh air fill your empty lungs. "What's wrong?" Clarisse inquired worriedly.

"Last week." You sighed out, chest still heaving as your thoughts clicked together. "You thought I had asked you on a date, that's why you were disappointed."

She winced at the reminder, and for the first time in your life, you had been lucky enough to witness a flustered Clarisse.

"I'm right." Her silence confirmed. "Oh Clarisse, why didn't you just ask me?"

Huffing loudly, she rolls her eyes in irritation. "I thought I was obvious enough. "

Thinking back on it all, it did seem pretty obvious, but gods were you oblivious. The way you intepreted it all so wrongly.

"I've liked you for so long too." You admitted to her. Her scowl was gone at that, replaced by a teasing smile. "And what are you gonna do about it?" Her mouth returned to yours, letting go of all your fears and holding on to Clarisse like she's your anchor, you close the gap between your lips, welcoming the kind of pleasure that you've never tasted before.

[seravphs]

ੈ♡˳·˖✶ — YUTA x FEM READER 

You’ve been trying to get a boyfriend to get over your one sided crush, but being known as Yuta’s girl across campus is a major cockblock for your romantic endeavours. The worst part? You’re not even dating.

wc — 4.8k

tags — pining, childhood friends to lovers, jealous Yuta, possessiveness, college au, Getou #1 wingman Suguru but only cause he gets a kick out of watching Yuta suffer, Yuta and you are so delusional, some suggestive content

♫: cologne — beabadoobee

This is the fifth boy that’s turned you down so far. You’re starting to wonder if something’s wrong with you. 

As with all of your woes, it ends with you at Yuta’s apartment. Is it pathetic to be comforted for your failed attempts at flirting by the boy you’re in love with? Very. Do you trust anyone else but Yuta not to make fun of you? No. 

“Yuta,” you whine into his stomach. He’s sitting on the couch with his legs tucked neatly together to form a cushion for your head. “Am I ugly?” 

He drops his controller instantly, muttering a quick sorry to Inumaki who’s suddenly left single handedly defending their team against the enslaught of monsters. “Why would you say that?” 

He pinches your cheeks between two fingers, squishing your face until your lips form an ‘o’. “You’re the prettiest girl in the world! Anyone would be lucky to have you.” 

Clearly not, or Yuta would have you. He’s just saying that because he has to. He’s your best friend.

“Did someone say something to you?” He asks. 

“So you do think I’m ugly!” 

Yuta grabs you by the wrists and hauls you upright so you’re face to face on the couch, knees uncomfortably entangled with his as you’re forced to sit up. He’s too earnest, too eager as he presses your hands together in his grip and says, “Everything about you is pretty! I never want to hear you say that again. Don’t disparage the eyes and lips and nose that I love.” 

This is the reason why you can never get over him. How can you when he says things like that? If you hadn’t known Yuta since you were five, you would say he was leading you on. But because you’ve grown up together, you know it’s just the way he is, like the sky is blue or the sun is warm. Yuta just loves you - but not like that. Not in the way you want. 

Never in the way you want. 

It’s been difficult. You and Yuta have no secrets between you, or at least you used to. It’s a side effect of growing up practically out of the same womb. What’s his is yours and vice versa. When you share everything with each other, it goes against your very nature to hold things back. Your secret strains at your lips, climbing up your throat, constantly begging to be set free even as you suppress it. 

“You’re making me sad,” he says, poking at your cheek at your silence. He’s trying to provoke you. “Why can’t you see yourself the way I do?” 

Normally he can get a smile out of you under any circumstance, so it distresses him not to be able to cheer you up instantly. He’s your best friend, the only one you have. You’ve been together your entire lives. Would telling him really change everything? 

You want to trust him more than the fear that he would reject you. Even if he can’t love you back the way that you want him to, at least this nightmare would be over. You could learn to accept what he was willing to give you, in time. Isn’t it a slight against the love you share to doubt him like this? 

But you’re scared. A childhood friend is irreplaceable. You can make new friends, but you can never get another Yuta. You’ll never be able to replicate the way he’s shared all of the bumps and bruises of your childhood with someone else. His mother has a box of your baby teeth that she keeps with her mementoes of his childhood. Who else can you say that about? You can’t risk it. 

“Yuta. Stop flirting and get your ass back in the game before we die!” 

Inumaki’s normally quiet voice hits a volume so loud it echoes through the headset. Yuta winces. Sorry, he mouthes at you. Talk later. 

God damn it, Inumaki. You were so close. 

“It’s not my fault,” he says through a mouthful of rice at lunch the next day. “How was I supposed to know that’s what you guys were talking about? I thought you guys were making your usual goo goo eyes at each other, not making breakthroughs.” 

“To be fair,” Panda says. “We never thought you were going to make a breakthrough, so it can’t be Inumaki’s fault.” 

“Ouch,” you rest your head against the cool linoleum of the table. “Way to let me down easy, guys.” 

“Come on,” Inumaki pushes his miso soup at you in a show of contrition. “You know we’re just joking.” 

“I know, I’m just annoyed cause you’re right - keep your mouth shut, Inumaki. He’s never going to see me that way.” 

“Didn’t you just jump from friend to potentially attractive friend? Sounds like a win to me,” Inumaki says. 

“For anyone else, yeah. For Yuta, it probably just means he’s going to start setting me up with his friends so I realize I’m pretty.” 

Inumaki and Panda share a look. You know the look. It means they think you’re being dumb. 

You steal Panda’s soup too as payback. 

Inumaki and Panda are easy to talk to about Yuta. More often than not, they’re the ones who bring up your relationship woes first because Inumaki loves teasing you and Panda secretly loves rom coms.

It’s a complete contrast from your other best friend. You’re too scared to tell Maki about the latest development in your relationship because she hates hearing about it. She’s a good friend who cares about you and your feelings, or so she claims, but she can’t stand watching you drag your feet. 

“Just confess already,” she hisses, using her textbook to shield her face from the professor. 

“I can’t! It’ll ruin everything!” 

“Don’t be a baby,” she snaps back, unaware of the professor walking towards her. You try to gesture at her to shut up, but she’s too focused on saying her piece. 

“Ladies. Would you like to continue your riveting discussion outside?” 

Even getting kicked out of class isn’t a deterrent for Maki. “Fine. You won’t confess to Yuta. What about your other plan?”

“No one will talk to me because they think I’m dating Yuta,” you wail as quietly as possible. 

“You serious?” She squints at you. “I’m telling you, just confess at that point.”

You shake your head vehemently. 

“Fine! Ignore me if you want to, but you see that guy coming our way? Try it one more time so I can see.” 

Maki pushes you down the path towards him before you can say no. You have an inkling how this is going to go based off the five previous times you’ve tried this, but Maki’s stare is drilling holes into the back of your head. 

“Hey,” you smile. 

“No thanks,” he says immediately. “Just save yourself the trouble. No one’s stupid enough to go after Yuta’s girl.” 

“Yuta’s girl? What does Yuta have to do with anything? Why does everyone keep saying that to me?!” 

“Bark up the right tree enough times and eventually you’ll find the devil.” 

“…I think the saying is ‘if you knock on enough doors, the devil will answer.’ How did you even come up with that?” 

“I’m just saying! Feels like the answer’s obvious to me, Yuta’s girl.” 

“Argh!” You march back to Maki, who’s giggling to herself. You just hope that at least she’ll be able to help you after that embarrassing little display. “So? What’s your advice?”

“Huh? Oh, I didn’t have advice. I just wanted to see it happen in real time.” 

Maki’s no help, either. 

The problem with being in love with Yuta is he doesn’t even allow you the grace of trying to get over him. No one will touch with you a ten foot pole until Getou. 

Getou is two years your senior, thinks of Yuta as this cute little puppy that follows Gojo around, and looks just right for your purposes. He’s not a carbon copy of Yuta. He just shares features with him. If anything, he could be his older brother. He has long black hair instead of short, but the same haunted eyes. 

It’s better that way, easier to not cut too deep. You know exactly how far you can go before the pleasure of pain tips too far into the wrong side. If he looks like him just enough, then you can slip in between lucid dreams. Yuta’s face comes to you in flashes rather than consistently when you’re together with Getou. 

He’s a smart man. He picks up on it almost instantly. 

Another reason Getou’s perfect for you? 

He simply doesn’t care. It’s not his problem what his darling little underclassmen get up to as long as it doesn’t interfere with his life. If you just want to have a good time, he’s down for that too. 

If you weren’t so hung up on Yuta, you think Getou might be fun. Fun could turn into love, perhaps. But those were only what ifs that were useless to you. It’s Yuta, it’s always been. He’s the only one for you. 

You can’t lose him. 

But you want him in ways he isn’t willing to give you. Incessantly, he haunts you at odd hours. You’re doing homework at one in the morning when your thoughts wander and you’re thinking of him. The way he’d coach you through this problem. The sure, strong strokes of his handwriting, as familiar as your mother’s voice. 

It’s hopeless. Every part of you has already been attuned to Yuta since childhood. You can’t extricate yourself. You can only hope to outlast the growth, and cling on as long as you are able. The only concessions you can allow yourself are small ones. 

Yuta’s a good student who sleeps early, but he’ll pick up for you. He always does. You’re his childhood best friend after all, and that leaves a sour taste in your mouth even as you begrudge yourself your own greediness. 

“Hello?” His voice is thick with sleep, husky and low in a way that you know doesn’t belong to you. You savor it anyways, these small intimacies you get to keep until he finds a girl of his own and doesn’t need you anymore. 

“Hello?” He says again. “Are you drunk? Do you need me to pick you up?” 

“Just bored,” you reply, playing with your pen. “Sorry, were you asleep?” 

“Don’t play with my feelings like that,” he laughs. “We both know you knew I was. Want me to stay up with you?” 

“Nah. I’m sorry for waking you up.” 

“You know I’d want you to, anytime. Are you working on the paper from English?” 

“Yeah. Go back to sleep,” you say, letting the smallest of smiles grace your lips. Alone in your room, you can allow yourself these small weaknesses. 

“Mm, but I wanna stay up with you,” he says, even as his voice grows softer and softer. You can almost picture him, hair sleep tousled and eyes half lidded. It’s a sight out of your dreams. 

“I’ll hang up when I’m done. Go to bed, Yu.” 

By the time you finish, you can hear his breathing evening out through the speakers. He’s a light sleeper, so you tip toe around as you finish getting ready for bed. When you have to hang up, you’re almost tempted to leave him on speakerphone so his soft breaths can lull you to sleep. 

You banish that unwelcome thought to the deepest, darkest, most remote time out corner of your brain and immediately text Getou to meet up the next day. You need to get a hold of yourself. 

“You know,” Getou drawls, “keep calling me out like this and I might get the wrong idea.” 

“If you fall for a girl that only talks to you about how much she likes her crush, that’s your own fault.” 

“Fair enough,” he laughs. “So what is it this time?” 

“I called him at night and his voice was so sleepy-“

“I meant,” Getou says, a finger running over the rim of his coffee cup as he looks at you. “What do you want me to do about it?” 

“Please make me forget him.” 

Getou smiles at you. “What a coincidence. I needed to blow off some steam today.” 

If you close your eyes, you can imagine someone else when Getou kisses you. One thing leads to another and he ends up taking you home. 

The thing about your relationship with Getou is it’s so ridiculously easy. There’s no strings attached for either of you, so when you wake up to his peaceful face in bed the next day, there’s no regrets. 

Well, except one. 

Getou’s a gentle lover in every way, but he’s a biter. There’s a trail of dark bruises blooming over your neck and collarbones. 

“Pretty, isn’t it?” He calls from the bed as you admire yourself in the mirror. 

“You’re an asshole,” you tell him. “I have to get breakfast with Yuta today.” 

He grins. “That’s the point.” 

You barely have time to messily apply concealer before you’re almost late to your appointment with Yuta. He’s waiting at the place he and you claimed as your own the very first day you arrived on campus. The nice granny who runs this diner has a soft spot for the two of you and often gives you free desserts. 

You slide into the seat across from him just as he’s wrapping up one of his readings for that day. He barely looks up when he feels you come closer, just lifts his arm wordlessly so he can tuck you into his side like a baby bird under its mother’s wings. He turns his head to the side even as his eyes are following the words on the page to press a light kiss to your temple, his breath stirring your hair as he rests his head against yours for a brief moment before returning to his textbook. He flips a page. 

Would he still allow you these gentle, nonchalant touches if he knew how you really felt? Your stomach drops at the intrusive fear that he might be disgusted by you afterwards, withdrawing the easy skinship he shares with you that he thinks nothing of, but you savor. You’re hyper aware of every brush of his hand against your shoulder as he lets his arm hand loosely around you. 

“I’m done,” he announces, stretching out so his lanky body is pressed flat to the table for a second before he straightens. He must be sore from hunching over his textbook all morning. In sympathy, you lightly rub at his shoulders. 

“Did you eat yet?” He asks. “Want me to order you something?” 

“No-“ You’re in the middle of replying when his face is suddenly far too close to you. 

“Hey there,” you laugh nervously. “What are you doing?” 

Yuta pulls back, but there’s a minute crease in his expression. 

“There’s something on your neck.” He says. 

“What?” 

His hand curls around the base of your neck. It doesn’t hurt. There’s a complete lack of pressure in his grip, fingers loose and curled. He’s just holding you. You inhale sharply, a recoil aborted. 

“Sorry,” he says, easy smile and gentle demeanor that doesn’t reach his eyes. They’re a little shadowed today, harried. He wears his emotions all over his face. You know he has a final today, that he likely didn’t sleep last night. It must be why he’s acting weird. 

His fingertips ghost over your neck, light tap-tap-tapping that makes you shiver. “What’s this?” 

You pull out your phone to check yourself in the camera. The concealer you put on this morning has sweated off, leaving streaks on your shirt. Underneath the smudges, the blurry outline of the marks Getou left on you last night are visible. 

Your face burns with mortification. 

“Yuta! You shouldn’t ask people stuff like that!” 

It’s not like he’s a child. You know he knows what a hickey is. He’s just pointing it out so you know he knows. 

He shrugs. “I mean, yeah, I’d be more careful about what I was saying if it was anyone else, but it’s you. What the hell happened? It looks like you had a tryst with a vampire.”

Gingerly, he touches your neck again, his fingers cold from holding his iced latte. You need him to stop doing that before you do something stupid. 

“Does it hurt?” He asks. 

“It felt good-“ 

“Stop! I didn’t need to know that,” he says, face turning red. 

Defensively, you retort, “Well, you asked!” 

“Forget it,” he sighs. “I’m sorry I spent all of breakfast studying. What are you doing later?” 

“Hanging out with Getou, probably. He said he wants to go to this new restaurant that just opened up.” 

“He’s the one that gave you all those love bites?” 

At your nod, Yuta rolls his eyes. He’s certainly in a mood today. Poor thing. He’s been working really hard lately. Not just today, but every day this past week, he’s been studying non stop. You should reward him. 

“Don’t go with him,” Yuta coaxes. “Hang out with your best friend instead. We can have another sleepover. Don’t you want to game all night?

The decision is made before Yuta even offers you a choice. You text Getou a quick apology, to which he replies with a lazy ‘lol. Loverboy?’

You’re happy Yuta asked you to come over. You’ve spent so much time fearing how he’d react if he knew that you’d forgotten how nice it felt to just hang out with him. 

You’re cuddling with Yuta on his couch as you watch a movie. He opted for a quiet night instead of gaming, so he broke out the snacks and remotes instead of controllers. You wish there was a way to push him away without explaining what’s going on. You and Yuta have always been touchy like this, comfortable with each other in a way that superseded even the closest of friends. 

It was never abnormal until now, when new love has redefined every aspect of your relationship with him. It makes it awkward to touch him, to be this close. But you always want to be this close. It’s hard, fighting a war with yourself. 

You snuggle into the hoodie he lent you, trying to hide your face. Your eyes dart to him, watching him instead of the movie. His hair has a faint blue sheen from the screen. He’s enraptured, staring open mouthed at the action sequence. 

Your heart beats double time, as it always does around him, prey instincts going into fight or flight. Yuta just does that to you, makes your body sing like it’s in the most exquisite agony possible. Like a runner’s high, you’re addicted to the pain of having him but not having him. Even the scraps of romance you can get are worth more than a lifetime of other lovers. 

You hope he can’t tell. Yuta has always had weirdly sensitive senses. 

Yuta’s line of sight shifts from the TV to you. You feel like a deer in headlights, trapped in the yawning black void of his gaze as he looks back, watching you as you have been watching him. 

‘Hey,’ he mouthes at you, the corners of his mouth lifting into a soft smile. 

‘Hey back,’ you mouth in return, wanting him, loving him, missing him. 

You rarely bring clothes when you’re staying the night at Yuta’s. Either he has some for you in a dresser he’s saved for your use, or you can just borrow his. You always end up changing into his clothes, anyways, so big and comfortable they swallow you up. 

He’s lying on his belly on the bed when you come out of the bathroom freshly showered and in his T-shirt. He looks up when he hears you. 

“Oh,” he says. He blinks once, hard. “Come here, please.” 

Self conscious, you cross the room to him. Your crush makes you miserable, coloring your every action. The fear that your desires are written across your face shadow every step you take. Are you that transparent? Can he tell? 

He reaches up to touch your face, reverent.

“You’re so beautiful,” he breathes, then he pulls you down onto the bed next to him. 

“Don’t tease,” you tell him. 

He buries his face in the crook of your neck, embracing you. Even this feels too much. His skin against yours feels like a thousand colts of electricity. Where his nose brushes against your nape is so sensitive you squirm in his grasp, kicking uselessly in his hold. 

“I only say things that are true,” he tells you solemnly. “You are pretty.” 

You don’t know how you’re supposed to sleep after that. 

In the morning, you’re finally back in your own set of clothes to head out and face the day. You and Yuta get ready together, running through your morning routines. You brush your teeth and eat breakfast side by side. 

Before he leaves for work, he spritzes himself with the cologne he leaves on the dresser. When you reach for the perfume you keep in his apartment, a twinning his and hers set you had gotten together one day during the holidays, he pins your hand down. With an appeasing glance over you, he spritzes his cologne on you instead. 

He leans in and sniffs experimentally. 

“You smell nice,” he says. 

You lift your wrist to your nose and inhale. 

“I smell like you,” you say, laughing. He smells like a crisp winter morning, a hint of pine and frost. 

“Well, yeah,” he says. “I wouldn’t have picked this scent if I didn’t like it.” 

It’s true. Nothing Yuta does is unintentional.

“What the hell,” Getou says as soon as he opens the door to you. “You reek.” 

Your face burns. 

Getou roars with laughter when you tell him why you smell the way you do. “What a brat,” he says. 

“Hey!” You feel the compulsion to defend Yuta against even the smallest of slights. It’s instinctual, even though you know Getou doesn’t really mean it. 

He shakes his head at you. “I really pity you, you know? You’re so whipped.”  

Hanging out with Getou doesn’t end in anything physical tonight. He injured himself playing volleyball with Gojo and he’s not interested in anything but good company. You don’t know if you’d be interested, either. It’s always easier to pretend you don’t want him after a little bit of distance. Trying anything right after seeing Yuta would only tear your heart apart. You and Getou pass the time in amicable silence, working on your separate assignments in the same room. 

Your phone buzzes three hours in. 

Yuta 4:15 You busy? 

You 4:24 With Getou Working on homework  Why?

Yuta 4:24  Come over  I miss you 

You 4:24  I saw you this morning 

Yuta 4:24  …

Yuta 4:25 …

Yuta 4:25  I always miss you when you’re not here 

Getou cackles. You jolt, startled. You had honestly forgotten where you were. 

“Is that loverboy?” He says, trying to grab the phone out of your hand so he can see the message. “You look so lovestruck.” 

You yank it back from him. “I gotta go.” 

“Abandoning me again?” He shakes his head in mock sadness. “I’m really just a toy to you, huh?”

That makes you hesitate, even though you do want to see Yuta. 

He ruffles your hair. “Ah, youth. So gullible. I’m fine, sweetheart. Go see your beau. And send him my regards,” he says with a devious smile as he walks you to the door. His eyes light up when he sees the forgotten garment he had discarded on his coat rack. 

You look at him quizzically. It’s not strange for him to be a gentlemen, but it is strange for him to offer you his letterman before you leave. He loves that jacket. He wears it so often that his name emblazoned across the back has been worn down into a soft cream instead of eggshell white. 

“What’s this for?”

“Just wear it. And tell me how Yuta reacts.” 

With that, he pushes you out of the door. 

Yuta wrinkles his nose at you in a display of badly disguised contempt. He was so excited to see you when you walked through the door, but as soon as he saw what you were wearing, his smile dropped off his face. 

“What’s with that guy?” He grumbles. “It’s so weird that he’s giving you his letterman. Isn’t that almost like a claim in the sports world?” 

For some reason, it pisses you off. On most days, Yuta could commit a crime and you’d help him cover it up, but this time you seriously can’t tell where he gets off acting like this. He’s not dating you. He’s not interested in you. He doesn’t even see you as a potential partner. 

You jab your finger into his chest, punctuating every word you speak by prodding him. “Why do you think you can judge Getou? You don’t even know him.” 

“I know that he’s going after a taken girl.” 

“We’re just friends, Yuta.” The admission stings. No matter what anyone else thinks of your relationship with Yuta, that’s all you will be. 

“Yeah, but no one else thinks so.”

“And who’s fault is that?”

“Is it so bad to be seen with me?”

“It is if I’m trying to get a boyfriend! You’re the reason no one wants to date me!” 

“Do you need to date someone?” he says. Every word out of his mouth only makes you’re more incensed. He’s being condescending without meaning to, but it doesn’t soften the blow. 

“I want to!” 

“And if I don’t want you to?” 

“Excuse me?” 

“I think I’m in love with you.” 

Your head is spinning. “That’s not funny.” 

“I don’t want you to be with Getou,” he says. “I want you to be with me. You’re right, it’s not fair, but I get this ugly feeling in my chest when you’re together and now I know why. I can be so much better for you than he is.”

“This isn’t about who’s better! You’re always-“ You’re on the brink of tears. “Ugh! You’re so frustrating, Yuta! I’m trying to get over you and you think you’re being noble by dating me because you want to keep me safe? Why would I ever want that?” 

“That’s not what I meant,” he says, so soft it makes you want to run into his arms and run away from him at the same time. Then he frowns. “Did you say you’re trying to get over me?” 

You glance at him, then the door. The calculations you run in your head say you can make it outside before he catches you. You turn so fast on your ankle the floor makes a despairing screech beneath the soles of your shoes as you beat a hasty exit.

The calculations in your head are wrong. He loops his arms around your waist and picks you up, throwing you effortlessly over his shoulder so he can carry you to the couch. You’re deposited with a soft grunt as he climbs over you and pins you down so you can’t even think of escaping. You thrash, regardless. 

“Let me go, Yuta!”

“I thought you called me Yu,” he teases. 

“You aren’t being cute!”

“Is it him?”

“Him?”

“I’ve been trying to get you to look at me that way this whole time,” Yuta says despairingly. “I didn’t want to scare you away, but I couldn’t hold myself back anymore. But before I even got a chance, this asshole steals you away?” 

“Yuta, what are you talking about?”

“Are you in love with Getou?” 

“Are you stupid?” You can feel hot tears well up in your eyes. It’s frustrating to be crying so easily because you’re embarrassed and angry. “I said I was trying to get over you! Just say what you have to say, don’t torture me like this.” 

“Did it work? Are you over me?”

“I’ll never be over you,” you sniffle. You just want him to leave you alone now so you can wallow in your own patheticness.

“I’m glad,” Yuta says, and then he cups your face in his hands so delicately, like he’s holding the most precious treasure in the world, and kisses you like he’s trying to steal the breath from you. 

Your knees crumble underneath you. He catches you easily and hoists you up, letting you settle with your legs wrapped around his waist. He holds you up with just one arm as he presses you harder against the wall, cushioning your head carefully. You’re pinned between his body and the wall. You moan against him, pleased and warm and disgustingly in love with him. All your senses are full of him as you cling to him.. 

Distantly, as if through water, you hear your phone buzz.

Getou 6:01 You owe me for that, by the way. 

[the-s1lly-corner]

AAAAA

TDAC X PUPPET!READER

Hear me out

Reader is like puppet from fnaf, their character being very similar to puppet, them having the same voice and powers? Yknow Puppet flies fast as HELL and etc, Reader most of the time stays in the music box, and just gets out when really wanted or needed, for example: when theres an IHA or when someone needs them for something.

TADC x puppet!reader !

ashamed to admit this but i have not touched fnaf outside of security breach, recently at least. the last time i was fully invested in the fnaf lore was when fnaf 4 had just dropped, so im quite literally relying off of your description like its a life line because i know how insane fnaf lore has gotten think imma answer this request then take another short break since my lower back is starting to get sore from sitting all day; gotta go stretch my legs too

CAINE:

you do have your own room, of course, but you tend to usually stay in your music box; of which you came with when you first entered the digital world... which was a little odd, but hey its not the strangest thing that anyone here has seen! i like to think that sometimes caine comes to your box at night and tries to will you out so he can get to know you more. leave it to the ai to fall for the mysterious circus member who rarely leaves their box... i think sometimes he would hum and sing along to the music your box makes

POMNI:

the first time you rush out of your music box it takes her off guard, almost making her fall off her feet when you dash right by her to do... whatever was required of you at that moment in time. if she were being honest, she didnt think you were a real person, she had always assumed that you were an npc; it wasnt unheard of that caine would have npcs stationed about for in house adventures, or to man the carnival..! though i dont think she would interact much with you, considering you rarely interact with the others; what use would it be to pester you?

JAX:

honestly before realizing you literally live and sleep and mostly exist in the music box, he probably puts stuff on top of your box... accidentally trapping you inside it. well, actually trapping wouldnt be accurate because you ended up brute forcing your way out, literally sending everything that was on top of the box flying; scaring just about everyone in the room. imagine trying to find out whos faster; you or jax.. i mean, have you seen how fast jax bolted when they found out koufmo abstracted?

RAGATHA:

always tries to ask you if you want to join in on the in house adventure, she doesnt want you to feel left out or unwelcome; even though most times you willingly back out of the activity. though, she feels relieved and even smiles when you spring out of your box to join in on the action... at least she knows you havent abstracted... brain stimulation is important, you know!

KINGER:

he finds some comfort in the music, slowly but surely as the days pass he moves his pillow fort closer and closer to your box before eventually hes right next to you. sometimes even naps, leaning against it. though he does immediately scamper off when you suddenly lunge out to race towards whoever is calling for you. at least he can count on you to have his back in moments of danger or fear!

ZOOBLE:

usually stays in their own lane, but for one reason or another they need help during an IHA, and their yelps and incoherent speech was enough to catch your attention. be it gloink or otherwise, you obliterate the problem; effectively haunting zooble for the rest of their life by your actions... but hey, it feels... nice, having someone you can rely on

GANGLE:

character who is soft spoken and shy meets character that rarely leaves their box when its not needed or necessary; how could a relationship, romantic or otherwise, be fostered in conditions such as this? oddly enough, the silence between you two brings you together, the music keeping the silence from becoming overwhelming. i like to think that sometimes gangle leaves you little notes, choosing to write rather than verbally speak... best not to ruin that special quiet the two of you have learned to share

[friedbaekhyunandeggso]

found you - ch. 5 (part IV)

pairing: gojo satoru x female oc (ara natsuna)

tropes: psycho! rival! athlete! yandere! gojo x introvert! booksmart! sheltered! rbf! oc

warnings: 18+ only babes, stalking/possessive themes, profanity, coercion, pet names (kitten, baby), titjob, praising, unprotected & protected sex, dub/non consented sex, overstimulation, mentions of abusive parents, suicidal ideation, squirting & basically lots of smut

word count/plot: [19.5k!] ara catches gojo's attention when news breaks that she is the top academically ranked student in their grade. he is ranked second. he tries to befriend her but she ignores him. despite her obvious disinterest, his obsession begins...

ch. 1 , ch. 2 [ part 1 | part 2 ] , ch. 3 , ch. 4 , chapter 5 [ part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 ]

She shoved him back, breaking the kiss. He lay on the bed, panting.

He sat up, reaching for her, “Ara—“

“Wait,” she stepped back, tugging down her mini dress, “Just wait.”

His blue eyes looked her up and down, “Why~” he whined.

She stepped in between his legs, cupping his chin, “Because I have something for you.”

Excitement bloomed in his crystalline eyes as he stared up at her. His hands squeezed the back of her thighs.

“Yeah?” his voice was low—hungry.

Her long fingernails dragged through his white hair, up his nape to the crown of his head. His eyes never left hers until he leaned forward, opening his mouth to bite at her tits in his face.

Her hands in his hair tugged his head back a second before his lips made contact. A low groan left him.

She kissed the tip of his nose, “wait for me.”

The words went straight to his cock. The look in her eyes didn’t help either, he didn’t want to wait. He wanted her now.

She slipped away from him, making him ache with each step she took away from him.

Fuck. He stared at her hips as she walked towards the closet. Her hair swaying with each clop of her heels. Her legs looked so damn sexy. fuck, fuck, fuck.

She has something for me?

A grin split across his lips as he flung himself back on the bed. He reached down, squeezing his cock through his jeans. He groaned through his teeth.

What do you have for me, kitten?

The thought made his cock twist in his pants. It was too cramped in there, the zipper was working overtime. She was taking too long. He needed her.

He closed his eyes, sifting through ideas of what she could possibly have for him. A gift, hm? He could only wonder what she got. She knew everything he liked, from sweets to his favorite shows and movies—she knew everything.

The thought shouldn’t have made him as happy as it did.

His cock throbbed and he hissed.

Fuck baby, I don’t need anything. I just need you—just you.

He reached into his pants, adjusting his cock at a more comfortable angle. He needed to at least appear tame for whatever she had to give him. knowing her it was bound to be something unique and meaningful, maybe even sentimental. whatever it was he’d cherish it. he’d keep it forever.

When he told her that he didn’t want anything from her he meant it-but if she got something with just him in my mind.. Who was he to deny her?

He smiled to himself, thinking of her wandering store to store trying to find something for him. He hadn’t checked her bank statements recently either so it truly would be a surprise.

He sat up, running a hand through his hair. His mind racing with curiosity.

Suddenly the closet door opened and he immediately perked up. Her voice came from behind the closet door.

“so… it was kinda hard for me to get a gift for someone who has everything. It really forces you to think outside of the box..”

He smiled slightly.

“.. so I thought really hard and I still came up with nothing but then I remembered, you always say I’m the best thing that ever happened to you-“

“You are.”

“-so here I am.”

She stepped out from behind the door and he gaped.

She wore the sexiest, laciest baby pink lingerie he’d ever seen in his life. The bra was basically see through, barely cupping her luscious tits. The matching thong was made with the thinnest straps, just the sight of it made him pant. and the garter belt attached to her lace-rimmed thigh high stockings…

He was gonna tear her up.

He stood up and she raised her chin, “Sit down.”

He froze, he’d never heard her voice like this. a grin split across his lips as he sat down. He licked his lips as he watched her step closer. The clip clop of her heels too slow compared to his heartbeat.

He naturally man-spread when he sat so when she stood before him, she stood between his long legs. Her skin sparkled up-close.

He reached for her and she swat his hands away.

“Don’t touch me.”

He groaned, “Ara you look so fucking sexy. I’m gonna lose my shit-“

“Then don’t. If you touch me I’ll stop.”

He raised a brow only to freeze when she bent low in front of him. the sight of her tits hanging, squeezed together in that sheer bra as she got on her knees, he nearly came right there.

She stared up at him from between his legs. her heartbeat thumped rapidly in her ears when she saw the look in his eyes. his mouth was slightly parted and his eyes—he looked like he wanted to demolish her.

She placed a hand on his thigh to balance herself and his abs immediately tightened. She slowly reached for the zipper of his pants, popping open the one button first. She then flicked at his zipper.

She felt the muscle under her hand on his leg stiffen, “Fuck you’re such a tease.”

She looked up to see his shoulders flexed, veins visible along his arms as his hands fisted the sheets. He was flushed, his jaw clenched. the thin necklace with their promise ring hanging from his neck as he sat slightly hunched—staring down at her.

“Don’t rush me.” her voice inadvertently coming out a whisper.

His eyes were fixed on hers, “I can’t wait to fuck you.”

“You don’t want me to suck you off first?”

“i do.” he answered straight away, subtly shaking his head, “i do. i do. i do.”

She’d never given him a blowjob before, no matter how badly he wanted it or how often he asked. He never forced her to though—which she appreciated more than he knew.

He simply stopped asking for it, especially after she told him she found the concept of it nasty. putting the same cock that would be inside her pussy in her mouth? it just felt wrong. even the thought of it made her gag. He'd even seen her nearly gag while explaining it.

There was no way someone as big as him could fit in her mouth either. She was sure to gag for real if that happened.

And yet, here she was…

“Please.” he begged. 

“please, please, please.” he sounded so desperate.

She stared at the bulge in his pants before looking up at him. She didn’t break eye contact as she shifted closer to him, her hand slowly lowering his zipper. She swore she could hear his teeth grinding.

His cock bulged out, pressing impatiently against his Calvin Klein boxers. even the outline of it looked angry. she heard a low choked breath leave his lips.

She glanced up again and nearly stopped breathing. He looked so big over her like this. All of his upper body muscles visible to her since he was shirtless. He could easily grab her and do as he pleased, she knew he was more than capable of it-but to think he was attempting to exercise his patience just for her. She knew she was playing with fire.

but she couldn’t help it.

His mouth partially opened when she slipped her index and middle finger into the rim of his boxers—dragging her long fake nails along his navel, from one v-line to the other. Toying with the elastic band of his boxers.

He groaned, shifting his hips towards her, “Ara, please. please, I need you.”

“I know.” she finally lowered his boxers, letting his cock flip out. It protruded towards her, fully erect and veiny. The light pink head swollen and stiff. She saw a small bead of clear pre-cum at the tip.

It looked so big and daunting in front of her like this. His cock looked longer than the length of her face.

She heard him let out a sigh of relief.

His cock twitched when she leaned towards it, it was just millimeters away from her lips. She met his gaze when she opened her mouth and exhaled over the tip, letting her warm breath cascade down his cockhead.

He whimpered, his cock twitching once more. She saw the bead of pre-cum dribble out slightly and trickle down the side of his cockhead.

“Ara..” he groaned, shifting his hips so that his cock nearly touched her lips. 

She leaned away, her hand on his thigh pushing him back.

Her eyes fluttered back up to his, “Don’t move.”

He was panting. A bead of sweat dripped down his brow before he threw his head back and groaned. His hands fisting the sheets so hard, the bed was nearly disarrayed.

He faced her again, his gaze desperate, “I can’t hold back-“

“You have to.”

“I’m about to fucking cum and you haven’t even touched me yet.” his voice was ragged.

“Don’t cum.”

“Touch me, Ara. please fucking touch me.” he begged.

She reached over and unclasped her bra, letting it fall to the floor. She held her tits up from the sides before leaning over and slotting his cock between them.

She immediately felt his cock twitch between her tits. His cock was so hot.

“ha—ah.” he groaned, tossing his head back as she began to slide her tits up and down his cock. Her tits were so warm, so soft and plushy. fuckkk.

He glanced down at her, at her pretty eyes staring up at him. His cockhead peeked out from the top of her tits as she held them together with her hands, squeezing his cock just right between her breasts. The friction felt so good after being abandoned for so long.

He watched his pre-cum dribble out onto her tits. fuck, he wanted to feel her soft tits in his hands. tease those sexy little nipples and fuck those tits at a pace that would make her cry but he had to be patient. he couldn’t touch her.

He groaned through his teeth and she watched him fall back on his elbows. He couldn’t take his eyes off of her.

She felt his hips buck as he tried to fuck her tits back but then his abs tightened as he tried to hold back.

“Fuck, you look so hot kitten. Your tits feel fucking perfect-yes-yes-just like that.” he grit out his last few words.

“Gonna cum all over your pretty face.” he rasped as she continued to bounce her tits up and down his length.

He felt so stiff between her tits, she couldn’t believe he was so hard. The sight of his cockhead disappearing and reappearing within her tits was the weirdest feeling but when she felt his cock throb she knew.

Her eyes widened. She saw his brows furrow in concentration as he sat up, bucking his hips into her to fuck her tits faster. The tip of his cock hitting her sternum.

“Toru—“ she gasped out and-just then, felt his cock pulsate. She didn’t want a mess-

Her mouth wrapped around his cockhead, her tongue running circles around his tip as cock throbbed between her tits—letting load after load of thick, hot cum in her mouth.

Her eyes squeezed shut, suddenly recognizing the flavor. He’d made her taste his cum a few times before but she must’ve been too out of it to realize what it was. The thought made her shiver.

“ah, ha-aah-“ he groaned sensitively, his cock continuing to jerk between her warm tits as he spurt endlessly in her mouth. Her mouth felt so hot and wet—her little tongue running along the slit of his tip. Fuckkk

She looked so sexy, her pouty lips wrapped around his cockhead-sucking him just right-with the rest of his length stuffed between those big perky tits. He would frame the sight if he could.

She backed away from him, letting his tip slip out of her mouth with a satisfying pop and-regrettably-making his cock slide out of her soft warm breasts as well.

He saw her cheeks were blown up, filled with his cum. Her gaze distraught and he knew she was about to spit it out—

He grabbed her throat, forcing her eyes on him.

“Swallow.”

Her eyes widened.

“Swallow.”

Her eyes watered as she complied. He felt her neck bob against his palm as she swallowed.

She immediately opened her mouth, gasping as she tried to breathe after swallowing such a thing. A bead of cum managed to slip out onto the corner of her lip and he immediately caught it with his thumb. 

He smeared it across her lower lip, “Good girl.”

He suddenly gripped her hair, forcing her to look up at him. His erect cock barely an inch away from her face.

“Who taught you that?” he demanded.

“M-millie.” she stuttered out, breathless.

“Millie?” he let out a short, astonished laugh.

He watched her hand come up to the center of her chest, rubbing the spot of her sternum that his cock head had been hitting moments ago when he’d fucked those plump tits of hers.

“Millie’s tryna have your pussy sore for a week, huh.”

“You already do that.” she replied weakly.

His teeth ran over his bottom lip, “Ara..”

She lay on her side, his chest all up against her back. His hand held her thigh up as she felt his warm breath travel down her neck.

She jolted when she felt his cock poke at her cunt.

"Wait-“ she reached towards the nightstand for condoms only for his other arm to wrap around her shoulders and shove her back against him.

“No.” his lips brushed against her ear. “Not today.”

She attempted to close her legs, but his hand under her thigh resisted—keeping her cunt wide open. The tip of cock slipped inside her warmth, making her gasp.

“It’s my birthday.”

Her hands pushed at his arm around her shoulders, “Toru, no—no!” she attempted to wriggle her hips away from him as he pushed more of his cock inside.

“I’ll get you a plan b tomorrow.”

He’d been doing that a lot recently-escaping wearing a condom by buying her a plan b the next day. He'd told her he respected her decision of not wanting to take birth control because her fear of the side effects and yet-by acting like this-he was putting them both at risk.

She struggled in his grasp, her eyes squeezing shut as he forced more of himself inside. His cock opening up her warm depths the deeper he went.

“Stop it, Toru. stop it!”

“sh, sh, sh,” he kissed her cheekbone, his grip on her shaky thigh tightening as he opened her legs wider. “It’s gonna be fine, kitten. Don’t worry.”

He sent one hard, deep thrust to her cunt—making her whine.

He stared at her distressed expression from above her shoulder before slowly grinding his cock into her, watching her expression unravel as she whimpered.

“Just for today.” he murmured into her ear.

He buried his face into her shoulder, sending another harsh thrust to her cunt. She cried out, her nails scratching at his arm around her shoulders as he began to fuck her hard.

“Jus let me have this today.”

fwop. fwop. fwop. fwop.

She felt it—him fucking his cum back into her. it was too much. he just came and hadn’t pulled out, hadn’t stopped.

“Toru, stop—stop. pull out-please—“ she begged.

His hand fisting her hair yanked her head back. His fingers dug into her hip as he bent over her, lips at her ear.

“Why should i?”

fwop. fwop. fwop. fwop.

“You feel so fucking good kitten.” he rasped.

“nghhh.” she felt his cum trickle down the inside of her thighs. His balls slapping her cunt with each rough fuck.

He pushed her back down, his hand still in her hair as he continued to bully her pussy with his cock. Her pussy was so hot and tight. He didn’t want to take his cock out that warmth even for a second.

“Your cunt’s made for me.”

His hand on her hip slid to her ass, delivering one firm slap to her ass cheek. She cried out as her cunt tightened around him.

“Oh? You like that, kitten?”

He slapped her ass once more. He swore her cunt got wetter.

“s-stop!”

“Your cunt is wrapping around me so tight, you sure want me too?”

She tried to turn but his hand in her hair prevented her.

“Hurts.” she gasped out, her ass cheek throbbing where he hit it.

fwop. fwop. fwop.

She moaned, his cock fucking into her ferociously. She gripped the sheets, her thighs trembling.

“You close kitten?”

His voice felt distant to her ears as she gasped. Her body couldn’t take the feeling of all of this. His cock pounding into her, his hand gripping her hair, his hand running down the back of her thigh-collecting his escaped cum on his fingers and smearing it over her skin. It felt like too much.

Suddenly he smacked her ass once more, sending her over the edge. She moaned.

Her moan was music to his ears. He watched her back sexily arch as her thighs trembled oh so badly. He let go of her hair to let her fall forward.

He grabbed her hips, letting his fingers dig deep into her soft skin as he pounded into her relentlessly. He wanted to feel every twitch and squeeze of her pretty little cunt as she came.

He groaned as he felt her cunt writhe around him, her insides wounding around him so tight—it felt like her pussy walls were dying to milk him dry.

He glanced down to see her pussy juices squirt out despite him still being inside—still fucking her. He watched his cum spill out the sides of her cunt as well, mixed in with her yummy pussy juices. the sight was intoxicating.

She was so creamy and wet inside that a delicious sound followed when he continued to fuck her out.

He knew he should stop, let his cum from earlier at least leave her but he didn’t want to. She was mewling so cutely, shaking her hips as she attempted to pull herself off him.

He yanked her back down by the hips. She cried out.

He leaned over her, slipping his hands around her tits as he spoke into the crook of her neck.

“I’m not done yet, kitten.”

“nghhh—toru, please. please!”

fwop. fwop. fwop. fwop.

Her hands were on his chest as her body bounced on top of him. His cock thrusted into her from underneath.

He stared up at her intently as he held her waist. He was breathless-watching her tits bounce with each fuck was an addicting sight.

She was barely able to sit upright on top of him. mascara stains trailed down her cheeks and her pouty lips were reddened and raw from his kisses. god, she’s never looked sexier.

“toruu!” she whined.

He sent another thrust up into her core, “I’m here baby.”

She lifted her hands, pushing her long hair back before resting her hands on his chest again—trying to keep her balance despite barely being able to string one thought together.

She looked down at him. his eyes were so bright, so lustful and hungry. he was truly so wanton for her, it was incomprehensible.

His hands on her waist controlled her, moving her up and down on his cock as he pleased. it felt so good, she couldn’t stop him. his cock head was hitting all the right places.

“You’re so fucking beautiful, Ara. you know that?” he hissed out, “beautiful.”

She glanced over to see he was looking at her tits, which were flying upwards with each push of his cock. She self-consciously covered them with her hands.

He immediately reached over, shoving her hands back.

“Don’t hide them from me.”

He grabbed her tits in each of his hands, squeezing them eagerly. her tits were big enough that they filled the entirety of his large hands. She moaned.

He could never get over the feel of her in his hands. it always filled him with a heady sensation when he thought of how he was the only one who got to feel her like this—see her like this. to think she’d even let him fuck these perfect tits of hers willingly earlier.

He pumped his cock into her faster. She moaned, throwing her head back. Her perfect neck and tits protruding out just for him.

His eyes ran over the several hickeys along her decolletage. mmm, it only made him want to give her more.

He leaned up, sliding one hand down to her waist before latching his lips to her unattended tit. sucking her nipple like his life depended on it. his tongue circling the perfect hard little nub.

“nghhh!! ugh—nghh!”

Her fingers slipped in his hair as his cock continued to fuck her gummy pussy. His groin was so wet from her juices but he wouldn’t have it any other way. 

She was all he ever wanted.

Geto walked with Millie upstairs. it was around 7 am. The estate was a mess. Most people had gone home or were passed out sleeping somewhere but Gojo hadn’t been seen for the past few hours.

“Are you sure you know where his room his?”

He shot her a look.

She raised her hands, “Sorry. This place is so damn big. I would get lost even if I came here a million times.”

“I’ve probably been here more than a million times.” he muttered.

Just as they walked towards Gojo’s bedroom door, they both froze. Millie and Geto looked at each other.

The squelching sounds of fucking was audible through the door, alongside Ara’s sweet needy moans.

Millie’s eyes immediately widened before she ran towards their bedroom and pressed her ear to the door.

All she heard was more squelching noises and the sound of low masculine murmurs-Gojo-as he talked her through it. Ara moaned once more.

Geto tugged at Millie’s arm, flushed. “Lets go.”

“No wait-“ she pressed her ear to the door again, “I’m tryna hear what he’s saying.”

His face screwed up, “Why?”

“Cuz-“ another feminine moan left Ara—this time more drawn out, more whimpery.

Millie’s eyes widened, “Holy shit, she sounds so hot.”

Geto closed his eyes, shaking his head. This time grabbing her elbow and tugging her.

“Lets go.”

She was laughing airily, “I did not know she could sound like that, oh my god.”

He made a face and Millie lightly punched his chest, “Oh come on. her moans were hot, you can admit it.”

He continued to walk her down the stairs, “That’s my boy’s girl. I’m not saying shit, that’s weird.”

She rolled her eyes, “Whatever. I’m just glad the plan worked.”

He glanced over to see a smile on her lips, “The plan?”

She smirked up at him, “Let’s just say Ara didn’t know what to get him for his birthday and I had an idea. She hated the idea at first but she knew he would like it. Any boy would.”

He grimaced, “What did you corrupt her with now?”

“I didn’t corrupt her. Technically that was all your best friends doing,” she shrugged, “but she looks happier now though so I’m just happy for her.”

“Is she happier?” Geto asked.

She raised a brow, “Yeah. why?”

“I dunno. She’s kinda hard to read,” he admitted, “I’m just surprised her Dad hasn’t contacted her yet.”

“She told you about that?” Millie asked, astonished.

He shook his head, “No, Gojo did.”

“Yeah no. Her dad hasn’t contacted her. She hasn’t called him either.”

“She hasn’t?”

Millie shook her head, “She hates him.”

Millie watched the corner of his lips dip into a subtle frown.

“What is it?” she asked.

“Oh-nothing.”

“Tell me.” she insisted.

He ran a hand through his hair, “It’s just a tough situation, isn’t it?”

She sighed, “It is but… at least she has Gojo.”

Gojo hopped into the kitchen a little after 1 pm.

“Marinn~” he was singing until he froze and glanced around, “Oh? y’all are still here.”

Haibara, Toji, Nanami and Geto sat around the island counter. Marin stood on the other side, sliding Toji another plate of food since he’d requested it.

Toji gave him a once-over. Gojo’s hair was rumpled and a few hickeys were visible along the neckline of white T-shirt.

Toji sipped at his coffee, “You had a night.”

“Probably the best night of my life.” he grinned before sliding onto one of the stools along the island, beside them. Toji whistled.

Gojo asked, “What about you guys?”

“Last night was insane.” Haibara croaked out, voice dry from all the singing he’d done, “I did not expect Travis Scott to show up. What the hell?”

Gojo laughed, “I didn’t either but it was open invite for A-listers so-“ he shrugged, “Here we are.”

“He was so chill.” Haibara went on.

Gojo suddenly snapped his fingers, as if belatedly remembering, “Marin.”

Marin’s head snapped up, “Yes, I’m making you a plate.”

“Can you make one for Ara as well? Make her a green tea too.”

“Yes.”

“Let me know when you're done, I wanna bring it up to her."

“Yes sir.”

He glanced around at the other boys, “I didn’t check the house but did security sweep the place yet?”

“Yeah, they did this morning. around 10 am.” Nanami grumbled out a second before Marin could answer. “I hope you don’t mind that Shoko and I stayed in one of your guest rooms.”

“Your’re kidding right?” Gojo grinned, “I’d never mind Nanamin~”

“Is Shoko still here?” Geto asked.

“Nah,” he rubbed his brow, “We got into a fight this morning so she left early.”

“Damn.” Toji muttered.

“Did something happen?” Haibara inquired.

“Just some stuff. I don’t want to talk about it.”

Haibara nodded, a subtle pout on his lips.

Gojo reached out, patting Nanami’s shoulder, “You’ll get through it. I believe in y—“

Nanami shrugged his hand off, “Easy for you to say. You just had the best night of your life.” he mocked.

Toji suddenly leaned towards Gojo, “Yeah, so what the hell happened? Ara keep you busy?”

“Very,” he grinned, his teeth subconsciously running over his bottom lip as the memories flooded his mind.

“Look at this guy.” Toji smirked, before grasping Geto’s shoulder and shaking it. Geto shrugged him off.

“Did she give you a gift?” Haibara asked innocently.

Gojo’s eyes sparkled with mischief, “She was the gift.”

Toji and Haibara started hooting and hollering while Geto and Nanami shook their heads.

The sound of the waves washing over the sand felt like therapy without therapy. It was lovely.

Gojo had brought her here on a whim—all because she’d said she’s never seen the beach at night. It was literally sunday. They had school in six hours and he didn’t care. He insisted that she had to see it and here they were.

And for once, he was right. This was beautiful.

She gazed out at the moon reflected in the water. The water appeared black due to the night sky and yet, nothing about it seemed ominous. Instead it felt like she belonged here.

The light passing breeze made her waist length hair ripple past her shoulders. She tugged her shrug closer around herself before glancing over to see Gojo wasn’t beside her.

She stopped walking and turned around.

He was a little ways away behind her, following her. His hands in his pockets. The second he spotted her looking, he smiled.

His arm slipped around her shoulders, easily catching up, “What do you think?”

He kissed her temple as she responded, “It’s so nice.”

He grinned slightly, “Right? Let’s sit.”

They sat down on the sand. The water rushing along the beachside only a few feet away. Ara stared out at the palm trees swaying in the distance.

He rubbed her back, “I knew you’d like it.”

She drew her knees up to her chest, “There’s no one here.”

“We got lucky.”

According to him, this was a rather popular beach. It was beautiful so she could see why.

“I like.. how it smells.” she felt ridiculous saying it but it was true. somehow the beach smelled calming, reassuring in a silent way.

He kissed her shoulder, “I like how you smell.”

She squinted at him.

He smirked back at her. His eyes dropping to her lips before returning back to her eyes.

“Can I ask you something?”

She nodded.

“Where is your mom?”

She froze, not expecting that question in the slightest.

“I don’t know.” she answered.

“Really?” he tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear.

“Last I heard she was in Turkey. She has family all over the world so she’s always traveling to see them.”

“When’s the last time you saw her?”

She paused, “Three years ago. She.. used to call but not so much anymore.”

“Does she work?”

“No. Grandpa just sends her money.”

“Are you close with your grandparents?”

She shook her head, “I only spoke to grandpa once on the phone.”

“Hm,” he waited a beat before asking, “Are your parents divorced?”

“No but they might as well be. She doesn’t call me so I know she doesn’t call him.”

Gojo assessed her silently, watching a frown appear on her lips. A million thoughts running behind her pretty eyes.

“Did she leave because of your Dad?”

“Well at first she left because her cousin passed away so she had to go to his funeral but then when Dad kept calling her and asking when she’d be back she started coming up with more excuses, prolonging her stay and stuff. There’d be times where we didn’t hear from her for months. Dad would get real mad but she called a while back saying that she plans on staying with Grandpa cuz he’s ill now and there’s no one else to take care of him.”

She sighed, “I don’t know if that’s true or just another excuse but.. I know Dad hates her now. He hates me too. He hates me cuz I look just like her.”

His eyes widened slightly.

She looked down, making shapes in the sand between them, “Everytime he looks at me I remind him of her. He said it.”

“He said it?”

“Yeah. He said he would throw acid on my face if he could–said her face doesn’t deserve to exist-”

He caught her wrist, his jaw clenched before he caught a glimpse of her face. Her eyes were filled with tears.

He hated her father’s words. He hated them so much he honestly wanted to drive to his house and rip out his tongue with his bare hands. He wanted to watch the blood pool out of his mouth and then stuff his tongue so far back down his throat he choked on it. It would be easy-so easy that it wouldn’t bother him at all.

What bothered him was the flat tone she used while saying these things–as if it were a fact that she believed. It made him unreasonably angry to think she could believe anything that came out of that useless man’s mouth.

“He sounds jealous to me-sounds jealous as shit that he isn’t as pretty as you and your mother.”

She snatched her wrist out of his grip, “Is that all that matters?”

“No, no,” his hands slipped under her shoulders, tugging her towards him to lift her onto his lap. Before she could resist, his arm wound itself tight around her back and his free hand caught her chin. He tilted her face up to meet his gaze.

His blue eyes searched her face, the pads of his fingertips gently wiping the tears on her cheeks. “I’m sorry,” he murmured, “I just didn’t want you to be sad.”

She exhaled through her nose, a faint smile on her lips, “Too late.”

Her eyes fluttered closed, taking in the familiar scent of cologne and the sounds of the waves crashing along the beach. She felt his lips against her forehead and shivered.

His body felt so warm and strong, cradling her like this–his arms gave her a sense of safety that she never felt before him. It should’ve been reassuring but all she could think about is where it all went wrong.

She opened her eyes, staring at his adam's apple before her before slowly raising her eyes–taking in his defined jawline, the smooth planes of his cheeks, his sharp straight nose, long white lashes. Strands of his thick white hair flipped in the light breeze as he stared ahead.

He looked perfect and he didn’t even have to try. And here she was, barely able to stay afloat. What a lovely couple they made.

“Sometimes I wish I was never born.”

His eyes immediately snapped towards her, “Don’t say that.”

She attempted to get out of his arms but his hold suddenly tightened. His forehead pressed against hers, “Don’t ever say that again.” He poked her nose, “You're the best thing that’s ever happened to me, remember? I don’t wanna think about a world without you.”

“You’d live.”

He shook his head, “I wouldn’t.”

“You would.”

He shook his head more vigorously, “I wouldn’t.”

She stayed silent for a moment, holding his gaze–letting the sound of the angry waves crashing against the rocks speak for them. When his gaze didn’t falter, she sighed–giving up. She lay her head in the crook of his neck, letting her hand rest on his chest.

They both stared out at the view until he broke the silence, “Your Mom had you when she was 25 right?”

Her brows furrowed slightly, “Yeah, how did you know that?”

He glanced down at her, poking her stomach, “You told me, remember? You told me you didn’t wanna have kids til you were 25 just like her.”

Her eyes widened as she remembered. That conversation felt so long ago. She’d been so scared then, saying anything that she thought could help her situation.

His hand slipped into the curve of her waist, his thumb caressing her stomach.

“How many kids do you want?”

She felt her face get hot, “Seriously-”

“Tell me. I wanna know.”

“Let me guess, you want a million.”

His arms tightened around her, “I do. I want as many as you want.”

“I wanna fill up our home,” he went on, “jus imagine them running all over the estate, little me’s and you’s.”

Her eyes widened.

“-We’d keep Marin busy, have her babysit them all.”

“Them all?”

“Yeah, she used to babysit me—”

“That’s not what I meant.” she sat up in his lap, “What if I don’t want kids?”

His eyes snapped to hers before slowly searching her face, “Why?” he asked, gently.

She was quiet. A million thoughts running through her mind.

She tried to slip out of his lap but he tugged her back down. His forehead pressing against hers once-more.

“You don’t think you're gonna be a good mama?” the tip of his nose nudged hers as she avoided eye contact, “Hm?”

She turned her head away and he nipped at her jaw, “Tell me.”

She shoved him back, “How can you expect any of us to be good parents, Toru? We literally have been raised by the worst people ever. You with a manipulative uncle and me with an abusive Dad. How are we gonna raise little kids with love when we don’t even know what that’s like?”

“We have our love.”

She stared at him.

“We’ll show our kids what love is by loving each other right,” he spoke rather calmly, “We don’t have to treat our kids the way our parents treated us. We never have to do that. If we get lost and confused, we have each other to rely on. Don’t we?”

She swallowed, her fingers inadvertently hooking around his necklace with their promise ring.

She rested her hand flat on his chest, tucking her head into his shoulder, “I don’t want to talk about this anymore.” she murmured.

His hand ran down her side, lightly squeezing her waist. “Why, kitten?”

“The idea of being a Mom scares me.”

“There’s nothing scary about passing on your pretty genes.” he teased lightly.

She rolled her eyes only to freeze when he felt his hand cup her chin to make her look up at him.

There was a faint smile on his lips as he ran his thumb over her bottom lip, “I want our baby to have your lips.”

Her eyes narrowed.

“-want em’ to have your nose-” he nuzzled her.

His hand slipped into her hair, “-and your long long hair-”

Her hand on his chest pushed him back-getting more distance between them, “You don’t wanna pass on any of your features?”

He shook his head, “Nah, I’m pretty but you’re prettier,”

She felt her cheeks flush despite herself.

“-I just wanna be there for the baby-making.”

“I’m nervous.”

He cupped her face, kissing her forehead, “You have nothing to worry about, kitten. You practiced way more than you needed to.”

She looked up at him, “I messed up my parallel park.”

“Yeah, once. Then you did it perfectly ten times in a row after.”

“I still messed up.” she pouted.

“Hey-” he waited until she met his gaze again, “How long have I been driving for?”

It took her a second to remember, “3 years.”

“Yeah and I haven’t gotten a ticket once-”

“-because the cops know you-”

“Because I’m a good driver and you’ve been practicing with me-a good driver-all this time. Why would I set you up to fail?”

She moved his hands off her face and sighed, “Your right, your right.”

She held onto one of his hands with both of hers. She stared down at it for a moment before facing him.

“I’m worried for nothing.” she spoke firmly.

He copied her tone, “You’re worried for nothing.”

“I’m gonna pass.”

“You’re gonna pass.”

She straightened her posture, “I am.”

He smiled.

He watched the car come to a stop in front of him. She jumped out of the driver’s side and ran straight towards him. The second he saw her smile he knew.

She jumped into his arms and he caught her. He was grinning like a madman.

“I passed. I passed. I passed!”

He kissed her head a million times, squeezing her oh so tight. He never wanted to let go.

“Miss, you forgot this.”

They both turned to look at the instructor holding her Birkin. A warm smile on the instructor’s lips.

Ara lightly pushed his shoulder, signaling him to put her down but instead he walked over with one arm under her ass. He reached out to take the Birkin from the instructor.

“Thank you.” Him and Ara said at the same time.

The instructor beamed at them, “You guys are so cute. Y’all remind me of my younger days.”

He smirked at the elderly woman, “I’m happy to help.”

Ara fixed him with a look.

“What?” he looked at her blankly.

Ara watched the instructor’s smile falter before she turned around and walked away. 

Ara whispered harshly, “I’m happy to help?!”

“She looks a month away from getting dementia, remembering her younger days is good for her.” he insisted.

She smacked her forehead, “I hate you.”

He merely smiled while walking in the direction of his car.

“How do you wanna celebrate, hm? You hungry–”

She attempted to wriggle out of his hold but he didn’t budge.

“–wanna get food? Or should we go to a car dealership first?”

She froze.

“Gotta get your first car, baby,” he shook her excitedly in his hold before facing her, “I’m so excited that I’m here for this.”

“You want to buy me a car?” she asked, astonished.

“Of course,” he answered simply before grinning, “I’m the best boyfriend ever right?”

Her brows furrowed before she hid her face in his neck. She drew her arms tighter around his shoulders as she mumbled, “You ruin it when you say that.”

His grin widened before he kissed her temple, “What’s your dream car?”

“I don’t know.”

“There’s gotta be something.”

“Well.. I guess Teslas look kinda cool.”

“Blegh, you aim too low.”

She glared at him, “Sorry I didn’t immediately think Ferrari. That’s a little out of my tax bracket-“

“Ferrari?” his eyes brightened, “You like Ferraris?”

“Stop it, Toru,” her voice came out muffled against his shirt, “I’m not letting you buy me a car.”

“Which Ferrari model?”

“Stop.”

“What color?”

“Stop.”

Millie walked into her closet. She watched Millie’s mouth immediately drop open.

“Holy shit.”

Ara couldn’t help but feel some sort of deja vu because she remembered when she first entered Millie’s closet, she’d once reacted the same. but now her closet was probably a dozen times bigger than Millie’s.

Ara waved towards the left side, “That’s his side.” then gestured towards the right side, “This is my side.”

Her side was a half full compared to his-which was completely stuffed to the brim.

“Let me show you the dresses I was talking about.” Ara muttered before walking deeper into the closet.

Millie eyed Gojo’s sneaker collection, “Goddamn.”

“Here.”

Millie glanced over to see Ara remove a few clothes from where they hung and set them down on the island counter at the closet’s center.

“Oh my god,” Millie ran her hand over the material of the several dresses she’d laid out.

She picked out a label for one of the dresses, “This is Saint Laurent? wow..”

She then picked out the labels for the other dresses, “Valentino, Georgia Armani, Eli saab..”

Ara itched the back of her neck, “Yeah, he pulled some of their archived early 2000s pieces cuz he knew I liked them but..”

Millie sighed, “You are living the dream.”

Ara reddened, “You can borrow whatever dress you want. There’s no way I’m gonna wear all these. I barely go to formal events.”

Millie set her hands down on the counter, “Yes, but this is prom. You gotta go all out.”

“I know, which is why this is stressing me out.”

“Why? You have such nice options.”

“That’s the thing. I literally have all these dresses he already bought and custom fit for me and yet he still wants me to tell him a fashion house that I wanna wear so he could get them to custom make us a dress and his suit.”

“That’s… insane,” Millie gushed, “Which brand are you thinking?”

“I don’t know. I told him I could just wear one of these but-“

“Uh, no! You have the opportunity to get a brand new dress made completely for you from any high fashion brand? I’m not letting you pass that up.”

She snatched Ara’s phone, “Unlock this and open your pinterest.”

Ara raised a brow before hesitantly doing as told, “Why?”

Once Millie saw she’d opened the pinterest app she snatched the phone back, “I’m gonna see your aesthetic and tell you what high fashion house I think you belong in.”

“Thank you so much for wearing my dress, darling. It looks absolutely incredible on you. Give me one more spin?”

Ara smiled slightly before handing off the phone to one of the fashion designer’s assistants. She spun once more for the camera.

“You are a goddess.”

“Please, that's enough.” Ara was flustered enough as is by all the compliments the belgium born, parisian designer Ludovic de Sermon had to offer her since they’d met a few weeks ago. Despite not having known him for long, they got along rather well.

His spontaneous personality fit perfectly with her introvertedness. Something about his creative process with design made her respect him more than he knew.

He’d been awfully patient with her, wanting everything to be absolutely perfect—and here she was, feeling perfect and beyond. and he was terribly upset he wasn’t there to see it.

Unfortunately he had to take a last minute flight back to Paris to check up on his fiancé since he’d gotten hospitalized due to a motorcycle accident. his team was still here, they’d helped her get the dress on.

“It’s never enough!”

She stepped towards the phone to see him on the facetime, his assistant still held up the phone for her.

“Is your fiance really gonna be okay?”

He waved a hand, “Don’t you worry about him. He just has a concussion and a few bruises—god, the damn boy gave me a heart attack. I swear i’m gonna set his motorcycles on fire one of these days.”

Ara laughed.

“Don’t you spend a second worrying about him and enjoy your prom to the fullest, okay? You only get prom once. Don’t forget to send me all the pictures you take!”

“Alright, alright, I will. Thank you so much for everything once again.”

“No, thank you for being such a stunning sweet soul. I’m here for you if you ever need anything love.”

Ara blew him a kiss the same time he did. The call ended just as Gojo abruptly entered the room.

“You ready ki—“ he froze in his steps.

They both took a second to assess each other.

He wore a monochrome black tuxedo. It was fitted entirely too well, emphasizing his lean waist and well built arms. The contrast of his all-black attire against his pale skin, light hair and eyes—was an alluring mix. It didn’t help that his hair was styled back, with a single white strand curling handsomely over his forehead.

He looked like a celebrity ready for the met gala.

And she looked like a finely cut ruby, glimmering with every move.

She wore the most sensually shaped red dress. It was a rather straightforward design, two thin straps with a sweetheart neckline. the dress was a cool shimmery red from top to bottom, except for the silver vines and flowers blooming along her right hip. 

She took a step towards him and he felt his heart stop. her floor length dress sparkled addictively under the lights. he couldn’t look away.

(a/n: if anyone if curious here’s how her dress looks like https://pin.it/14Qe2ZSxm )

He’d never seen her hair in an updo like this. it was an elegant, perfectly messy low bun with strands of her hair falling loose along her sparkly nape. a few strands swooped attractively around the sides of her pretty face.

He fell to his knees.

Her eyes widened, “Satoru!”

He placed a hand over his chest, “I can’t breathe.”

Her concerned expression fell, “Seriously.”

He bent over, placing his hands on the ground in a praying stance. A few of the surrounding team members started laughing.

Ara smiled, subtly shaking her head, “Toru get up.”

“I can’t.”

She walked up to him and folded her arms. “C’mon Toru, get up.”

He finally rose from his praying stance to his knees. He stared up at her. She didn’t need to hear him to know what he was thinking.

How’d i get so lucky?

She felt her heartbeat scatter all over the place. It was hard to focus with him looking up at her like this.

She touched his cheek, “Come on, get up. I have something to give you.”

He slowly stood up. He stared down at her for a moment before one of his hands slipped along the side of her neck, his thumb running down her jaw.

“If i could frame you, i would.”

A little shy smile bloomed along her lips before he saw her gaze rest on his mouth. She clutched the lapels of his suit and rose on the tippie toes of her heels to kiss him.

Somewhere in the room, the makeup artist shook her head. She took out the lip combo she used and tossed it in Ara’s clutch.

Gojo sighed into her lips. His hands sliding down her sides before coming to rest on her ass. He gave her ass a squeeze as their tongues clashed against each others. He swore she was a better kisser than him now.

She broke the kiss, her chest slightly rising and falling as she caught her breath.

Her eyes suddenly widened, “Oh no.”

“What?”

She quickly rubbed away the lipstick on his lips with her thumb. She smiled slightly, “Never mind.”

He grinned, “Is that what you had to give me?”

“No. it was this.” she held up a bedazzling silver flower brooch that matched the design of the flowers on her dress. She pinned it to his lapel, “Ludovic wanted me to give it to you.”

Her hand slid down his chest. The material of his suit felt expensive against her palm.

She didn’t meet his eyes, “You look really handsome.”

He tilted her chin up, a wide smile on his lips, “hm?”

Her eyes narrowed.

“What was that? I couldn’t hear you.”

“You heard me just fine, idiot.”

“Pleaseee. i just wanna hear it one more time. just one more.”

“No.”

“Pleaseeee~”

She grabbed his face, “You look handsome.”

His eyes widened before he beamed. She didn’t miss the faint blush on his cheeks.

His hands fit perfectly in the curves of her waist, “Thank you…for telling me what I know.”

She shoved him back.

Prom was on a yacht. An actual fucking yacht.

It was unreal.

She leaned on the railing, staring out at the sea. The sun was setting and it colored the water waves with a faint pinky orange hue, reflecting the sky.

She felt her hand itch with the sudden urge to paint. The urge surprised her. She hadn’t felt any muse to indulge in her art hobby ever since she moved into Gojo’s estate–or, sorry, their home-something he always aggressively corrected her on.

She turned slightly, staring at her fellow classmates and peers. They’d all gotten decked out–not one person slacking. Everyone had beautiful pieces on, from jewelry to makeup to outfits to grills. It truly felt like her academy’s met gala.

It felt weird to think about how if she wasn’t living with Gojo she would’ve missed this entire experience. One, there was no way on Earth her Dad would’ve let her go to prom 2. She would’ve never been able to pay for the ticket and then the dress, hair, nails, makeup, heels, etc etc. She once thought it bizarre how people could spend thousands of dollars for just one night’s look but-looking at the people around her-she realized what a production these events were for rich people. It was insane.

Even the yacht itself was decked out. Flowers hung from the ceiling, along with dreamy white curtains along the pergola. The weather was perfect, not too hot with a calm breeze flowing through here and there. The music was tasteful and it seemed the small platters the servers were handing out were tasteful as well since her classmates seemed to be chasing after the servers for more.

Another breeze passed, letting the scent of the flowers waft over her once-more. She found herself wondering if she was dreaming.

Suddenly Principal Yaga stepped onto the mini stage. He cleared his throat on the mic to gather everyone’s attention.

“Hello hello hello, graduating class. Who would’ve thought y’all would make it this far.”

A few laughs arose.

“Anyway, I have a few words to say to this class. First things first, you lot of hooligans will definitely be missed-despite how annoying some of you were-”

Ara zoned out. She’d never been that close with the principal but she knew Gojo, Shoko and Geto were. She wasn’t entirely sure why but she supposed he seemed nice enough. He tried to keep a strict hand over the students but-with the type of students this academy got-it was relatively impossible. Let’s just say money fixed a lot of these students' problems.

“And now, I’d like to announce Prom King and Queen.”

A rush of low murmurs could be heard amongst the students.

“You guys all voted and the results have been collected and counted. I have two crowns here, waiting for our class favorites.” he held up the glimmering crowns.

She smiled slightly, she already knew who Prom King was going to be but Prom Queen– she suddenly felt someone elbow her.

She looked over to see Gojo smirking down at her, offering her his elbow to hold, “Are you ready?”

She frowned only to hear Principal Yaga’s voice bellow on the mic, “Our Prom King and Queen are… Gojo Satoru and Ara Natsuna!”

Ara felt the spotlight on them and reddened. She slipped her arm through Gojo’s and let him lead them through the pathway their fellow classmates made. But she couldn’t understand, there was no way these students voted for her. She barely spoke to them-maybe she did while she was drunk at the parties she went to but she was more than aware of how uncharismatic she was.

She peered up at Gojo through narrowed eyes. He definitely rigged it.

As per usual, her boyfriend was eating all the attention up. He grinned from ear to ear as they walked atop the stage towards Principal Yaga. She was too distracted by all the attention to make out the words they exchanged until Principal Yaga reached out to shake her hand.

“Congratulations Queen Ara Natsuna.”

She shook his hand and offered him a small smile before tilting her head down for him to crown her. Gojo beamed as he watched.

“And Congratulations King Satoru Gojo.” she swore there was a bit of a grumble to his tone but Gojo took it with pride. The crowd went wild as he bowed down to get crowned.

“Everybody, let's hear some noise for our Prom King and Queen!”

Suddenly the crowd hollered thrice as loud. She swore she could hear Millie chanting her name and couldn't help but smile. Rose petals were suddenly thrown all over them. She could help but adjust the crown on her head nervously.

She felt Gojo’s arm slip around her waist and looked up at him, “You rigged it didn’t you?”

“What’s there to rig? Everyone knows you're my queen.” a sly grin slipped onto his lips as he added, “my short, pocket-sized princess.”

She glared up at him, “I’m not short.” -knowing full well that he was a whole foot taller than her.

They’d taken a break from dancing to have a snack. Well, she was snacking. Gojo was knocking back entree after entree like he hadn’t eaten in a week. His appetite never failed to surprise her.

She leaned back in her seat, sipping at her mocktail. Technically it was a school function but she was more than sure people brought things to mix in with their drinks–despite everyone having been body searched by a cop upon entrance to the yacht. If there was one thing she learned about rich people, they knew how to bypass a whole lot of shit.

She watched Shoko slip out two mini-bottles of Jack Daniels from her bra. She eyed her friend, Leah, from across the table and they both stood up to walk towards the bathroom.

Millie suddenly slipped into the seat next to her, “Oh my god, I’m out of breath.” She suddenly whipped out a foldable Chinese hand fan and began to fan herself. The color of it matched perfectly with her dress.

Toji reached over and grabbed that from her, “Gimme that.” He began to fan himself.

“Excuse me.” she snatched it back,

Gojo chuckled beside her, “That’s gotta be the ugliest accessory I’ve seen all day. Did you get that from the dollar store?”

“No,” Millie shot back before stating proudly, “This was hand-made and delivered from China.”

“-ordered off of Shein.” Toji added.

“Ugh, ew.” Millie made a face at him, “I would never but I know that’s probably all you can afford.”

Toji narrowed his eyes, “Ha ha.” he responded sarcastically. Ara had only recently discovered that he’d run away from his family too–a wealthy family as well from what she’d heard. She didn’t know who he lived with currently.

“How’d you pay for your ticket?” Millie questioned.

“I did!” Haibara piped up excitedly. “I wanted all of us to be here.”

“You’re so nice, Haibara,” she batted her eyelashes, “but you honestly shouldn’t have.”

Toji merely grinned.

Suddenly Shoko reappeared, sliding back in the seat next to Nanami-who was eating rather diligently. Geto followed behind her, a plate full of food in his hands. He slipped into the seat between Gojo and Shoko.

“Did you get the lobster?” Gojo asked him, “Shit is amazing.”

“I did.”

Shoko reached over and plucked a gyoza off Geto’s plate before popping it into her mouth, “Mmm, that’s good.”

“You want me to get you some?” Nanami offered. He was such a gentleman.

Shoko smiled softly, “Are you gonna get seconds?”

“Probably.”

“Then I’ll just go up with you when you’re done.”

“You sure?”

“I’m sure.”

Gojo was about to chomp into his breadstick before he froze and looked over at Ara. He must’ve overheard Shoko and Nanami’s conversation as well because suddenly he eyed her empty plate and asked, “You want me to get you somethin’ Prom Queen?”

She looked at him through half-lidded eyes, “No thanks.”

He tapped his cheek, silently asking her for a kiss on the cheek. She merely scrunched her nose before undoing the nearest origami rose napkin. She dabbed the napkin along the corner of his lips.

“You got crumbs everywhere.” she muttered.

He merely smirked, “Thank you mommy.”

“Stop.”

She entered the room to find her night bag already in it. Prom was over but the night had just begun.

Normally staying the night on the yacht would be an additional fee for the students since the academy only booked it for the evening-but since it was Gojo’s yacht that wasn’t necessary.

Principal Yaga hadn’t wanted to host prom on Gojo’s yacht at first—especially when Gojo offered to rent it to him for free. He deemed it unprofessional but once Gojo offered him a discounted price aka half the price of what other yacht companies were offering, he couldn’t refuse.

Shoko was throwing an after party and everyone from prom was bound to be in attendance. Shoko promised to use every square inch of the place, from the outdoor bar, beach club, tennis court, deck jacuzzi, movie theater, massage room and sauna. How she planned on doing all that in one night, Ara didn’t know. All Ara knew was that it was time to change for the after party.

The room was nearly half the size of Gojo’s room at the estate but still eye-catching in its design—it was more modern, resplendent, nothing short of luxurious. She was sure they had the best room on the yacht.

She walked towards her overnight bag on the table only to freeze when she saw the breath-taking view through the glass wall.

She ran over to the sliding doors, pushing them open before leaning against the railing and staring out. The sea churned around them, waves dark and beguiling. The reflection of the stars glittered amongst the water. The moon no where in sight.

That same calm that consumed her when she’d first seen the sea at night with Satoru came over her once more. Easing away all her little anxieties from the night.

She would be lying if she said she wasn’t tired. She’d been facing people all day. From the makeup team, to the hair team, to the dress team, then the actual event of prom itself. She’d enjoyed herself but it was nice to have a breather by herself. It was needed.

Even though she knew she wouldn’t be alone for much longer.

As if on cue, she faintly heard the locking mechanism of the door and glanced over her shoulder. Gojo sauntered in the room, tossing his suit jacket on the bed before joining her.

Just as he moved to join her he spotted her phone vibrating on the bed. It seemed to be from an unsaved number. He glanced at Ara, at her slender back as she stared out at the sea.

He picked up the call and held the phone to his ear.

"Hello?" A slightly older feminine voice arose from the other end of the line. She sounded oddly familar..

He remained silent.

"Hello Ara? Ara, it's me. Mum. We haven't talked in a while," she paused, "I called your Dad and he says you haven't been home? Are you okay? Are you safe?"

No wonder she sounded familiar, she sounded like an older version of her.

She seemed hesitant as she asked, "Your graduation is coming up right-" he ended the call.

He stared at the phone in his hand for a moment before unlocking it and going to her call history. He blocked the number and deleted any evidence of the call before tossing the phone back on the bed.

He glanced at Ara once more, at her relaxed position against the railing, at her fetching side profile as she turned to face the breeze. She was happy like this, she was at peace.

His arms slipped around her waist as he bent low to kiss her neck, his lips touching her pulsepoint before resting his chin atop her head. He always thought they fit perfectly together like this, with her small back against his chest-like missing puzzle pieces coming together.

He stared out at the ripples along the dark waters. It was captivating. The view of the beach and buildings in the distance. Little speed boats passed by and the scent of the sea that she’d once mentioned surrounded them.

music drifted from overhead, the after party must’ve started.

“Satoru?” she suddenly asked, breaking the silence.

“hm?” he kissed her head.

She turned around, unraveling from their embrace to face him.

“Why do you love me?”

He was gonna make a joke, but then he saw her eyes. This wasn’t coming from a shallow self-deprecating place or somewhere lighthearted, she truly wanted to know why.

It should’ve been easy, expressing his love towards her was always easy but when asked like this–with so much care and directness. For once he felt afraid of what he would say. He didn’t want to say something that would push her away when he’d finally gotten her this close.

But Geto once told him it wasn’t his honesty that was the issue, it was the way he phrased himself that was.

‘There’s always a nicer way to say things’ his words echoed in his mind.

It wasn’t like what he had to say was mean but–fuck, he was growing nervous under her stare. His thoughts were escaping him. It was hard to focus when she was looking at him like that. Like his words would mean something–make or break something. And it didn’t help that he was keenly aware she hadn’t told him she loved him back yet.

He was overthinking–he knew. Only she could make him overthink like this. She was just so perfect, all he wanted in a human being all rolled up in one girl. It scared him–everything about her scared him whenever he thought about her like this.

I don’t wanna lose you. I can’t lose you.

His gut tightened with an incomprehensible rush and he felt that aching need to touch her again. That tremor in his fingers that was only eased with his hands on her skin, his lips on her body.

He shook his head abruptly, his hands flexing at his sides before he offered her a light smile.

“I don’t think there’s just one reason.”

She tilted her head, her curious eyes raking over his face, “Then tell me.”

“You’re smart, you’re thoughtful,” a slight laugh escaped him as he added, “--and really really sexy.”

“And?”

She took a step towards him and he blurted out, “I can’t sleep without you.”

He saw her gaze darken slightly, stepping back, “Oh so it’s just about the sex.”

“No, no. I mean–I literally can’t sleep without you.. by my side.”

Ara’s brows furrowed as she thought about that. Ever since they got together there wasn’t one night that he hadn’t spent with her. Even when she’d wanted to have a sleepover with Milie he always refused, nagging her enough that she decided it wasn’t worth the argument.

She tilted her chin up, “You did it for two months when we broke up.”

“Not by choice.” He reached out to touch her cheek, slipping a piece of her hair behind her ear as he did so. His hand lingering longer than necessary as he chuckled thinly, “You really taught me patience.”

“You think you’re patient?”

“Eh, it’s a work in progress.” he leaned towards her, “but I’ve gotten better, haven’t I?”

Her eyes narrowed as she looked him up and down, “I don’t know.”

“What do you mean you don’t know?” he whined before taking her hand and pressing it to his cheek. He pouted, “You taught me a lot, y’know.”

She raised a brow, “Like?”

“I feel like..” he glanced away, the faint pink on his cheeks made her eyes widen.

“I finally know what it's like to have someone care about me,” He spoke leisurely, as if saying whatever came to mind, “I like when you fuss over me. When you remind me of things I forgot or tell me what shirts I should burn. I like when you.. touch my hair and ask me how my day is after I come home from practice or when you like a gift so much you forget to yell at me about the price-” she rolled her eyes at that one “-i like when you yap on and on about something artsy that you forget i’m even there. I like when you leave lil sticky notes around the house saying where you are cuz you know i’m gonna ask.”

He smiled to himself as he went on, “I like when you randomly sit on my lap and nap on me when i’m studying–or when you say my name in your sleep.”

“I don’t!”

His smile widened, “You do.”

“You’re definitely lying–”

He caught her chin, “I especially like when you kiss me when you think I’m deep asleep.”

She pulled his hand off her face, completely red. “I don’t.”

He was grinning, “I feel those pecks in my dreams y’know. They make me all fuzzy and warm inside.”

“That’s because you are dreaming.” she mumbled, turning her back to him.

“I love you Ara.” the gentleness of his voice threw her off.

His voice was lower when he added, “I can’t help but love you.”

She stared down at her feet, at her pointy heels. Her arms tightened around herself as she willed herself to not cry. She squeezed her eyes shut.

“I know you feel something too.” His voice was quiet, closer. “I know it.”

“I don’t expect you to tell me–even if I really really want you to.” His voice wavered, “I remember what you said.. about falling for me.. about being afraid to.”

Her eyes flashed opened as she remembered that conversation (end of chapter 2, pt 1). It felt so long ago when she’d tried to hide away from him for one night in the basement–only for him to show up in her living room the next day. She’d been scared shitless. She didn’t know how she managed to make him agree to her boundaries then–even if her boundaries weren’t much. But they were much for someone like him. *

“I don’t blame you,” his voice felt hollow, “after everything you been through, I can’t.”

Her breath hitched when his voice felt closer, “But I’m not your Mom. I’m not your Dad.”

His fingers lightly skimmed her arm, “I’m not going anywhere.”

She felt his breath trail down her nape, she shivered.

His lips barely touched the helix of her ear, “I’m never leaving you.”

She felt him peering down at her from above her. His tall frame hovering as close as it could without touching her. He reached his left arm over her to grasp her right forearm. He turned her around.

She stared up at him, her eyes brimming with tears.

He silently searched her face, his gaze the softest she’d ever seen it.

“You’re not alone anymore.”

Her heart ached. She glanced down but he swiftly grabbed her upper arm, forcing her eyes on him. The speed of the action nearly made her stumble, her hands instinctively laying flat on his chest.

“Do you understand?”

He stared down at her, merely taking her in as she held his gaze–seeming to do the same. It took him more restraint than necessary to resist from closing the little distance between them. She was just so flawless, even with the tears on the verge of spilling from her eyes. Her lips were just too close, too tempting to be left unattended.

His jaw locked when her pretty eyes landed on his lips.

Those damn eyes. He’d known her for so long and yet one look in her eyes could make him feel like he didn’t know her at all. Her gaze was always so murky, so alluring. He could never tell what she was thinking no matter how hard he tried. But he’d be a fool to miss the way she was looking at him now.

She looked like she was on the verge of falling off a cliff, with so much to say yet nothing at all. She looked like she was yearning for something–longing for it so badly she didn't know what to do with herself and yet she was fighting it—warring with herself. Locked in this mental anguish he so badly wanted to understand. If he could dissect each and every one of her thoughts, he would.

She grabbed his shirt in her fists, “I love you.”

He was frozen, not sure if he heard correctly. His brain must be short-circuiting right? Right?

They were kissing, she didn’t know who started it. If it was her or if it was him but this was eager, desperate and theirs. Their lips were molded together, pressing and pushing against each other as if demanding the others attention.

She didn’t know when they stumbled into the room or when she’d decided to abandon her heels but she knew what was gonna happen when she was tossed onto the bed. She stared up at him as he stood before her. He grabbed her legs, spreading them open before tossing off the one remaining heel on her foot.

She caught his gaze and reached her arms out. He immediately bent over her, letting her svelte arms slide around his shoulders as he locked her lips in a feverish kiss. His tongue slipped into her mouth, pushing through her full lips to swallow her whole—Mmm, I need her. I need her. I need her.

Her sweet perfume filled his nostrils as pressed himself closer against her, pushing her further into the bed from the pressure of his kiss. He tugged down the straps of her dress without breaking the kiss. He refused to leave her lips alone even when he yanked her fitted dress down her waist, her hips—

She broke the kiss just as he dragged the dress past her knees. She threw her head back, needing a breath, only to shiver when he began to nip affectionately at her neck. There was a different fervor to him, a different vehemence. She felt his breath hitch when he finally got her dress off past her feet.

She glanced down when she felt his lips leave her clavicle, only to inhale sharply at the sight.

His belt hit the floor as he unzipped himself at the speed of light, impatient to let his cock loose from his boxers. He was hard, fully hard, his cock head pink and swollen. She watched his cock subtly jolt upwards-throbbing-and felt her cunt tighten.

A ripping sound ensued and she glanced up to see him opening the condom he’d just retrieved from his pocket, with his teeth. He tossed the packet somewhere and slipped the condom over his cock with a bated breath. She could see the tension defining his jaw.

Once it was on, he looked back at her. She froze–stricken by the adoration in his eyes. The rampant need, the raging lust and all-consuming love all coalesced in those devastating blue eyes. She’d never felt so coveted in her entire life.

He bent over her, his hand sliding down her thigh as he did so. His forehead nudged hers just as he hooked his finger through her g-string and easily yanked the thin material off-breaking it. Just as she gasped, the tip of his cock touched her warm entrance and she froze.

His cockhead pressed against her warmth, the tip nearly slipping in–dipping in her hot juices but he didn’t move further until they locked eyes.

Her mind went blank.

Her lips were parted, eyes squeezed shut as she felt all of him inside her. She felt so full–the entirety of her body felt like it was completely full of him. She felt him release a deep breath of relief, as if he’d been waiting all his life to consume her like this. His cock throbbed inside her and her cunt coiled around him reactively.

“Ha-aaah.” he groaned into her cheek.

Her nails dug into his back, expecting the worst but instead his hips pressed deep into her–grinding his cock against her deepest parts, making her gasp. Her mind went blank with stars.

He was stretching her so completely, she shivered as she felt it. She felt as if his cockhead was kissing her from the inside when he delivered short, deep thrusts within her cunt–-never letting his cock leave. Her cunt was slick, completely soft with her juices.

This felt different, more personal somehow despite having done this millions of times before. His bated breath cascaded down her neck and his eyes were trained on her face–completely focused on her, memorizing her as if she were the rarest sight he’d fought all his life to see.

She blushed and suddenly his cock pushed deeper inside her, pressing against her most sensitive walls and she whimpered–moaning. Her cunt instantly squeezed around him.

He groaned through his teeth before palming one of her tits in his hand. Her nipple hardened against his hand as he massaged her soft mound. Her pretty sounds making his cock stiffer inside her.

“You love me?” He muttered down at her.

He released her tit to slide his hand down the side of her body, grasping her hip before picking up the pace of his deep, short thrusts–rutting into her faster.

He spoke into her cheek, “I love you more.”

Her nails dug into his shoulders as cried out, “ngh! Toru–toru!”

“More–more–more–more.”

His cock pounded into her relentlessly, her legs tightening around his waist. She swore she felt each fuck in every cell in her body. It was sloppy, intense, and the squelching sounds that followed made her face get entirely too red.

He pulled out, leaving just the tip inside.

“How much?”

She didn’t get the chance to answer, merely yelling the second his cock slid all the way back in. His balls slapping against her cunt with the ferocity of his fucks.

“This much.” 

“Ngh~~~~~” she moaned wantonly, her legs spreading wider to let him fuck her harder. Her tits pressed into his chest as her back arched. She was incapable of handling him when he went this fast–fucking her like she was simply his sweet little ragdoll.

Her cunt squeezed around him, eager—hungry. Her orgasm was close. She felt it and it made her oh so needy, so desperate for him. He made her like this.

He pressed down her, forcing her body lower into the bed. His cock never fully leaving her cunt as he delivered brutal, attuned thrusts to her sweet spot–eager to make her crumble. Her soft tits bounced as they pressed against his chest, making him all the more hungry.

His cock forcefully pressed against her g-spot, pressing against it like he was owed something–and he was, he was owed her.

“Ah!~ohhhh~nghh–ha-nhnnn~” her moans were music to his ears.

He pulled out of her spasming cunt, staring down at her pussy to watch her squirt all over the place. Her hips trembled, her luscious tits bouncing with each jolt of her body as she let out more and more juices. Her hands on his arms gripping him so tightly.

He licked his lips, the sight of her like this was just so ravishing—just seeing her like this made him teeter on the edge of cumming himself. His cock throbbed, pre-cum dripping within his condom.

He lightly slapped her cunt, making her twitch, “I love you.”

He kissed her throat as she writhed sensitively, from the aftermath of her high.

“I love you, I love you, I love you.” he went on.

“Toru.” she murmured weakly, her voice too small.

“I love you.” he said just as he forced the entirety of his cock into her once-more. The wet sound that followed was completely lewd but the tight fit of her slick, wet cunt spasming around him—

“Ohhh,” he groaned gutturally into her neck before rasping out, “you’re perfect.”

The maid stared at the bed after they were long gone.

Several of the pillows were strewn across the room, only one in the center of the bed against the headboard. The blankets were a rumpled mess, half on the bed half on the floor. The entire white curtained canopy bed frame was caved in, one of the bedposts laying haphazardly on the floor beside it. And to top it all off, the discarded plastic golden packets of condoms were littered all across the floor.

The maid sighed, “I don’t get paid enough for this.”

“You should’ve let me clean the room at least.” she scolded him lowly.

“Baby i swear it’s fine. They’ve seen worse.”

“I don’t care.”

“That's their job.” 

“What are you guys whispering about?” Shoko asked from across them.

She didn’t give them a chance to respond when she leaned back in her seat, “Where the hell were you guys last night? I called both of you.”

The limo suddenly jolted over uneven road. The hair that’d been covering Ara’s neck suddenly shifted over her shoulder, revealing the hickey’s along her neck.

“Well that answers your question.” toji answered dryly. 

ara’s brows furrowed before realizing. She flushed as she quickly repositioned her hair despite the hickeys already being seen.

“You guys couldn’t wait to get freaky til after the afterparty?” Shoko questioned grumpily.

Gojo’s hand slipped into ara’s, “oops.”

Shoko rolled her eyes a moment before the limo came to a stop. Geto awoke from his slumber.

ijichi opened the car door, “We are at the brunch spot you requested, sir.”

“You mean i requested. If it were up to satoru we’d be at a bakery right now.” Shoko clarified.

“What’s wrong with bakeries?”

“Not everyone wants to eat sweets for breakfast.”

Ara sighed before picking up her macbook and laying down on the bed. She lay with her front to the sheets and her feet in the air.

She hit the backspace button multiple times-with a bit more ferocity than necessary.

She suddenly felt someone smack her ass and turned around to see gojo. He’d just exited the bathroom.

“What the fuck!” she rubbed her ass, “you’re home?”

He sat on the bed, “yeah, just got back,”

He leaned closer to peer at her laptop, “What’s got you huffing and puffing?”

She angled her laptop away from him, “I’m trying to write my valedictorian speech.”

“Oh, i already finished mine.”

He watched her frown and broke out in a grin. They both ended up getting the valedictorian title. despite the school staff picking apart their grades to a T it seems their gpa was the exact same, down to the decimals. it was the first time their academy had dual valedictorians.

“Alright show off.”

He attempted to reach for her macbook, “Let me see what you wrote so far-“

“No.”

“Come on~”

“Let me see yours then.”

He tilted his head, “Why would I show you mine? Your gonna copy it.”

She scoffed, “Why would i need to copy you?”

“Cuz I'm a good writer.”

“Sure.”

“I'm good at everything.”

“Would you stop talking? You're distracting me.” she huffed, annoyed.

“I’m sorry~” he lightly tickled her chin.

She pretended to bite his finger, making him grin.

He pushed the laptop away from her, leaning close towards her.

“Maybe you need a distraction?”

She leaned back, “I definitely don’t.”

He shut her laptop, before quickly burying his head in the crook of her shoulder and cuddling her.

She smacked his back, “Toru!”

His voice came out muffled against her neck, “I just want your attention~” he whined.

Her shoulders sagged as she gave up, “Great.”

He smiled before shifting himself closer towards her. She stared up at him from the corner of her eye before gradually relaxing.

She stared at the fluttering curtains as the wind blew from the open doors leading to the balcony. the sun was bright, hot enough to make you burnt toast tan in five minutes. the breeze brought in the scent of flowers from the gardens.

She inhaled before exhaling audibly.

“You see?” Satoru’s low voice came from above her ear, “Didn’t you need a break?”

She glanced up to see him gazing down at her.

He lightly tapped her nose, “I’m gonna do this when we’re in university too. bug you when you’re too stressed.”

Her eyes narrowed, “Is that what you're gonna do? Instead of encouraging me to study?”

“I don’t need to encourage you. You study too much.”

“Because I can't engrain my notes in my brain after one read through like you.”

“Why can’t you?”

She rolled her eyes, “I would if I could.”

“s’okay, i’ll help you.” he kissed her cheek, “we can pay someone to take your exams for you.”

She raised a brow, “you can?”

“Absolutely.”

“That’s insane.” she muttered, “I’d probably get expelled if we got caught.”

 “You wouldn’t get caught.”

She peered at him through narrowed eyes, “Are you ever not cocky?”

“I’m not being cocky,” he chuckled, “It’s the truth. They’re professional exam takers you can hire but I know you’d never take that up.”

She sighed, “i wouldn’t.” She only trusted herself to submit her best work.

A moment of silence ensued. He drew circles on her stomach with his index finger. She breathed in another flower scented breeze.

“Are you excited about college?” he asked her.

“I’m kind of.. nervous.”

“Yeah?” he perked up, “Why?”

“Because.. isn’t it supposed to be some of the most memorable years of your life?”

“Yeah but shouldn’t that make you hype?”

“It does but I also want to make sure I don't mess with my future. i hear the connections you make in college can really affect your career.”

He chuckled slightly, “We’re going to Stanford, trust. The networking opportunities will be endless baby.”

“So you're not nervous in the least, i’m assuming.”

“i am a little nervous.”

“about?”

“Well it’s a new stage of my life. i’m gonna miss our academy.”

“I won’t.”

He smirked, “Not even your senior year?”

“What’s there to miss?”

“Think your funny huh?” he tickled her stomach lightly, “We had mad fun this year.”

“yeah, yeah, yeah.”

He rested his head on her chest, partially laying over her, “I’m happy we’re dorming together.”

Dorms weren’t supposed to be co-ed but of course, nothing was impossible when it came to him. He’d also gotten them a penthouse dorm as well. The privilege her boyfriend had was truly something else.

Her nails raked through his soft hair, “Me too.” she murmured.

He snuggled further against her.

“Now please, let’s welcome one of our dual valedictorians, Ara Natsuna!” Principal Yaga spoke into the mic before smiling grandly at her.

She walked upto the podium, setting down her speech despite not really needing it. She’d memorized it enough times.

There were so many people before her right now. her classmates all donning their cap and gowns. their parents on the bleachers. the numerous staff looking on at her in anticipation. the cameraman below the stage across her.

Normally in circumstances like this she’d want to bury herself in a hole or pray to the holy god above to throw down a lightning strike and make her disintegrate on the spot but no-for once-this felt fine.

Her public speaking coach had trained her through and through. These people around her.. were just people. at the end of the day, their eyes on her wouldn’t make a difference, they couldn’t affect her unless she let it.

There was no point to letting it affect her when the little shitheads that were her classmates would forget her words anyway.

but it was up to her to make this moment count. a moment she’d worked overly zealous for and yet the only person who seemed to care was her boyfriend. her dad was nowhere in the crowd.

She thought she hadn’t dared to hope and yet..

She stood up straighter, offering the crowd a small smile before speaking once the applause died down, “this.. is such a momentous moment. ever since i stepped into high school, being here, on this stage, as valedictorian is all i’ve ever wanted.”

She paused, “and now i’m here.”

She resisted the urge to swallow nervously and instead tipped her chin higher, “I know people say high school is all about the memories, having fun before the real world starts but-as everyone knows-high school is more than that. It's a foundation. not only for your education and career, but for yourself.”

“I couldn’t tell you everything that high school has taught me but one thing I can say with full confidence is that within these past few years I finally know myself. knowing yourself is the best thing you can do for your betterment.”

“knowing your tells. your viewpoints. your stances. your bias. your dreams. your goals. your choices. recognizing these things can save you in the future.”

“Your dreams, are your dreams. and don’t ever let anyone tell you otherwise. if you feel yourself straying off the path you envision for yourself, then listen to your thoughts, your feelings, your gut will tell you, if this is right for you—and I believe if it is right for you, you’ll know.”

“You only live this life once. as cliche as it is, I feel like i have to say it because it’s so easy to forget. to get so absorbed in the past, present, future— wherever your mind lies. regardless of how much you think about things, none of it changes. none of it gets pushed to motion unless you do something about it.”

“You are the creator of your universe. what you allow, is what you attract and what you deny is a choice you control.”

“I hope you all make smart decisions in whatever career path you pursue. our jobs don’t only affect us, but generations behind us. Even if all you do is simply inspire people for a moment, anything makes a difference. everything has a butterfly effect.”

“Just like now, high school might be over but this is really just the beginning.”

She dipped her head slightly in a subtle courteous bow.

“Class of 20XX, i’m out.”

The class erupted in cheers, whistles and applause. She smiled before walking away from the mic, taking her speech from the podium with her-despite having not looked at it once.

The principal clasped her hand, shaking it, “That was wonderful, Ara. truly. Thank you.”

He then walked over to the podium, saying a few words that she was too wired up to hear. Just as she walked off the stage, Gojo grasped her arm.

She glanced up at him.

He was smiling so brightly it put the sun to shame. His eyes glittered with charisma as he looked her up and down.

“I’m so proud of you kitten,” his smile turned into something more mischievous, “My baby sounded like she was gonna conquer the world.” 

Ara smiled subtly, “thank you.”

There was something in her eyes he couldn’t pin. He didn’t have much time to dwell on it because suddenly they overheard the principal speak.

“..and next up, is our final dual valedictorian, Gojo Satoru!”

He bent down to press a chaste kiss to her lips.

“Wish me luck.” he flashed her one more bedazzling smile before bounding up the steps. If the cheers had been loud for when she’d stepped up to the podium, it sounded a dozen times louder now. Quite the little nepobaby celebrity he was.

She turned around, watching his tall frame tower over the podium as he adjusted the mic before taking the mic off the stand completely and walking around the stage as he spoke. She didn’t need to focus on his words to know he was galvanizing the crowd. He faced different sides of the crowd as he spoke, dividing his attention to make everyone feel addressed. She wondered if he’d studied that or if it was just another thing that came naturally to him.

She pried her eyes off of him to glance down at her wristwatch. She cleared her throat before walking towards the Vice Principal.

“Your speech was very inspiring, Ara. Congratulations once again.”

“Thank you.” Ara smiled half-heartedly, “I’m just gonna use the bathroom.”

“Of course.”

Ara weaved through a few people before walking towards the outdoor bathroom. She glanced around, making sure there were no people in the stalls before locking the bathroom door. She walked into the last stall to pull out a hidden duffel bag behind the door. She stuffed her diploma in the bag before taking off her graduation cap and gown and lastly, her grad dress to reveal another outfit underneath. She switched out of her heels to sneakers.

She exited the stall to roll up her graduation clothes in a bundle and stuff them into the trash. She opened the duffel bag on the counter to pull out a wig. She hastily put it on, before adjusting it to make sure it sat naturally on her head. She gave herself one last look over before pulling out her cell phone and tossing it into the sink. She turned the sink on, letting her phone drown in the rising sink water.

She turned the sink off before hoisting the duffel bag over her shoulder and heading out. She walked towards the entrance of the school, glancing around until she spotted the taxi cab waiting upfront-just as planned.

She opened the car door, “Hi, thank you for waiting.”

The driver nodded, “Of course, ma’am. Heading to the airport?”

“Yes.” she confirmed before sitting comfortably in the back. She withdrew her second phone from the duffel bag, as well as her new ID, her new passport, her new social security card. Everything.

In truth, she’d purchased several fake identities from the black market. After a lot of sleuthing she’d managed to access the black market online. She only accessed it from public computers so it wouldn’t get traced back to her. She’d used these fake identities to sell more than half of the gifts Satoru had given her on different websites. She hadn’t sold some of the flashier items he’d gifted her due to knowing it might garner too much attention and the last thing she wanted was to get caught. 

She then created several bank accounts with these fake identities and transferred the hefty sum of her sales to her main fake identity’s account. The one she’d be using from this day forward.

She also used these fake identities to book multiple flights–multiple flights as in 100+. She knew it was inevitable that he would be able to find some of her fake identities but to trace 100+ flights, some of which she had sold the flight tickets to people online? That would be a feat.

But it didn’t matter because she didn’t book the actual flight she was planning on taking with the identities she’d used before. She’d booked it from her main new identity. Sade West. Sade was just an adopted girl who’d lived all her life in Southern California and had just graduated from a regular, public high school. Sade was taking an early flight to the town she planned on going to college in. Everything was already submitted and set for her to attend this college for the upcoming Fall semester. All the cards were already aligned.

The taxi came to a stop in front of the bustling airport. Ara gave the taxi driver an excessive tip in cash before stepping out with her duffel bag. She walked inside the airport and went straight to the bathroom. She entered one of the stalls and changed again. New wig, new shoes, new shirt, new jeans. Everything. She even removed a mini duffel bag from the larger one. The mini duffel bag carried everything she truly needed.

She stepped out of the stall and disposed of the larger duffel bag. She saw a woman eye her astonishedly-Ara supposed she couldn’t blame her. The duffel bag she had just dumped was Burberry, worth more than $2K. It wasn’t her fault that everything she owned was designer.

She almost hoped the woman would steal it after she left, less things for her to be traced by.

Ara looked in the mirror, smoothing down her wig and touching up her makeup. Sade West looked awfully pretty–the kind of pretty that would make a girl immediately wish they were her upon one glance. She’d picked this look on purpose, something stylish and feminine–a completely different aura from what her comfort driven soul would naturally gravitate towards but she liked it. She wanted something different and enticing. She wanted to channel anything and everything that wasn’t herself.

“You’re beautiful.” the woman who’d been eyeing her bag earlier complimented.

“Thank you.”

Ara would’ve been more flattered if her mind wasn’t running a million miles per hour at the second. Satoru’s speech must’ve been done by now. Her fellow classmates must’ve all thrown their caps in the air and she’d missed it. Missed it all. Satoru might’ve even found her phone in the bathroom by now. She’d only thrown it in the sink to momentarily disable it. The phone itself was still on so he’d be able to see that it was in the bathroom, he wouldn’t be able to use it for a while though–Iphones aren’t known for their great water resistance for a reason. The iphone might’ve even died. She couldn’t be sure. Regardless, it didn’t matter. He wouldn’t be able to find anything on it anyway.

Her second phone had all her information. The phone she’d bought and kept on her or hidden at all times so she knew he couldn’t tamper with it. It was a weird feeling, using all the things he’d provided her with to get what she wants.

Karma. Is all she could think of it as.

Suddenly a voice spoke through the airport’s intercom system, “Flight Number XXXX to NYC has arrived, passengers please line up at Gate 24 for boarding.”

Ara straightened, staring at her own eyes in the mirror. There was no turning back now. She wasn’t even sure if she’d ever be back in California after this–if everything went according to plan, she probably wouldn’t. California wasn’t her home anymore and if she was honest with herself.. It never was.

Ara glanced down at her hand, at the promise ring on her finger. This promise ring was Ara’s–not Sade’s. Ara had a lot of sadness in her heart, not Sade. Ara was a girl without wings, not Sade. Ara was a deadweight.

Sade didn’t need Ara anymore.

She took off the promise ring.

Four years later

She had just picked up another oil pastel when her wristwatch started to beep. She jolted, dropping the crayon on the floor.

“Fuck.” she muttered.

She stepped off of her stool and picked it up, carefully setting the oil pastel back on the tray. The spotless light wash wood floor now had a smudge of red on it. She quickly grabbed a paper towel and poured some water on it before attempting to scrub the stain off the floor. The little red smudge was now a noticeable stain. With each rub she seemed to be making it worse.

She stopped, staring down at the now light red and bigger stain on the floor with a frown.

“What is it?”

She was immediately drawn from her thoughts at the familiar voice. She stood up.

“Mr. Heim.” she answered in surprise. She tossed the wet paper towel onto the counter nearby and instinctively reached to run her hand through her hair only to see the oil pastel markings on her hands and decided against it. Her hands hung idly at her sides as he slowly approached.

Reese Heim was one of her favorite artists in the flesh. He mainly used acrylics but something about his art always evoked some sort of buried emotions in her. He used dark colors as much as he used light colors–always in some sort of balance that turned out unequivocally perfect. It was always so satisfying, she could stare at his art for days. (a/n: i’d like to imagine his artwork similar to the artist Khaled Alkhani’s work, feel free to look him up)

He was tall and in his late twenties. He had wavy, dark brown hair that ended just above his shoulders. His haircut kind of reminded her of Flynn Rider from tangled. Besides that, he dressed like a tech company CEO. Always wearing semi-fitted black long sleeves or the like.

Reese glanced down at the stain, “Oh, don't worry about that.” His words held a tinge of his Italian accent. He’d been raised in Italy until the age of 18. It’d been 11 years since then.

“The cleaning crew will take care of it.” he added, before his gray eyes flitted to her canvas on the easel. She’d just started it today so it was barely done, maybe just a quarter finished.

He circled around her work station before stopping in front of her canvas. Her breath stopped as he silently assessed it.

She didn’t know him well. He didn’t speak much so when they spoke it was mainly her talking–which never ended well cuz she wasn’t much of a talker herself. She only began working with him recently as well, and it wouldn’t have happened if her favorite curator hadn’t been involved.

She’d made many connections due to her artwork in college but meeting Lynelle Ivo was one of the best things that had ever happened to her. Lynelle fell in love with her work-which was a rare, rare thing because Lynelle was one of the most renowned art curators in the world. Lynelle felt so connected with her artwork that she basically became her art assistant, manager and publicist, all rolled in one. It became a requirement for Lynelle to showcase Sade’s art in all of her exhibitions. She even requested Sade to make custom pieces to fit the theme of the exhibitions if none of her previous artwork fit the genre.

It’d been a hurdle to balance it all–to manage consistently making art whilst working on school but all of it was worth it when Lynelle agreed to her wish. Lynelle agreed to let her artwork be made anonymously. It was something Sade had wanted for a while since her artwork was slowly gaining traction and the thought of being well-known scared her more than anyone knew.

Lynelle had told her the interest in her artwork might die down if she decides to release art anonymously because it’s usually the artist that helps drive their artwork to more publicity. Sade had been aware of this and still agreed.

And yet-opposite to what they’d all been expecting-after going anonymous her art seemed to go viral. Lynelle explained that it seemed the mystery of not knowing who the art was being made by added more to her work’s lore. Well, to be fair it wasn’t just the anonymity that made her artwork famous–it was one piece in particular and of course if one piece gets famous, usually interest build’s for the other artist’s works and for them to be anonymous… it all just blew up from there–in social media terms.

Sade herself still very much stayed off of social media so it was mainly her publicist/social media manager, Kory, taking care of that for her. Kory managed her website. While her manager, Dean, took care of her schedule and art sales. Dean was annoyingly repetitive about her deadlines–she knew it was for her benefit but she hated constantly being reminded. Despite it all she loved her team, Lynelle really knew exactly what kind of people she needed by her side.

She wouldn’t have needed a team if Chroma’s Atelier Interactive paint Company hadn’t reached out to her fresh out of college-two months after she’d gone anonymous. The paint company seemed to find out that she used their paint and reached out to contract a sponsorship deal with her for a total of three years, with the potential of extending it. When the money first started to pour in from her sponsorship, she’d nearly cried.

But out of everything she’d experienced in this upward trend, it was capturing Reese Heim’s attention that shocked her to the core. Apparently he’d been invited to one of Lynelle’s exhibitions in Italy and he’d seen one of her art pieces. Apparently he’d stared at it for about half an hour before asking all the staff nearest to get him in contact with someone who could reach out to the artist-nearly making a scene while doing so. He finally was able to get in contact with Lynelle.

Lynelle doesn’t entirely have the best opinion of him as a person but even she agrees his art is something to look at. She’d requested him for his artwork in some of her exhibitions before but it was always a gamble because sometimes he would decline. Apparently he is very picky about where his art is showcased. She supposed he was at the level to be picky since none of his artwork is worth less than 15K.

But anyway, as Lynelle put it–it was the first time she’d seen him ‘off his high horse’ when he asked if she could reach out to the artist to offer them an art studio in his company.

At first, Sade had been elated–even elated didn’t fully describe how happy she’d been with the offer but then she asked Lynelle what exactly would that position entail? Lynelle had explained that Reese had his own art company where he helped young artists have a space to create more artwork and he himself would sometimes assist these artists and showcase them in his New York City gallery.

But that was only if he really liked your art. If your art wasn’t on par with his standards he would have his team redirect you to place your artwork in another gallery of his recommendation. For some up and coming artists he would set them up with a team if he really liked them–but since she already had her own that wasn’t exactly an issue.

Usually his art space had a limit of six months for fresh artists to use his offered art studios—he had the limitation set so that other artists could get a chance but as far as she was aware, she did not have any set time limit. His only request was that whatever artwork she produced in his company’s studio be showcased in his gallery. Which meant fresh pieces.

It was a challenge that she wasn’t taking lightly.

“Oil pastels,” he noted, “Chroma’s not gonna be happy.”

She shifted slightly, “They already know I’m interested in trying new mediums.”

He turned around, revealing a faint smile on his lips. “Do they?”

He eyed the assortment of oil pastels that were laid out on her work table.

“What brought this on?”

“I.. I was inspired by Frederic Paul.” she admitted. (a/n: a real artist btw, feel free to check his works out. they're so pretty)

His left brow quirked up as he contemplated that, “I thought he used oil paints.”

“He does but I wanted more texture.”

He nodded, murmuring, “Oil pastels will do just that.”

His gray eyes flitted to hers, “So you plan on using lighter colors in this piece?”

It was a valid question-even if it threw her off slightly. It was true, she naturally gravitated towards darker colors in her work. In fact, Lynelle said a reason why she felt so attracted to her artwork was because there seemed to be this theme of entrapment. It created a sense of mystery that she supposedly couldn’t look away from.

“I’m not sure.” she answered.

“Do you have an outline?”

She shook her head, “Not a physical one.”

She added after a beat, “Do you suggest I make one?”

“No, no.” he shook his head, “That’s fine. Do what you deem best.”

Her wristwatch began to beep again. She quickly turned it off.

“Do you have somewhere to be?” he inquired as she began to take her off her apron.

“Yeah, I have my aerial silks yoga class.”

He watched her shuffle things into her tote bag, “Do you go everyday?”

“Yeah, I mean-no, I go Monday through Thursday.”

He quickly glanced away when he caught himself staring at her in her black Athleta body suit. It covered most of her skin down to her ankles-except for her toned arms-but it was rather fitted. She bent down to re-tie the laces of her adidas sambas and pulled up her white socks slightly higher. She slipped into a black trench coat and flipped her long, neat braid out from the coat’s collar before grabbing her tote bag.

She hung the lightweight bag over her shoulder, “I’m free to go right?”

The corner of his lip twitched, “Yes.”

“Thank you. See you tomorrow.”

Just as she passed by him, he suddenly spoke, “Wait.”

She stopped, glancing over to see him standing with his arms crossed. The subtle outline of his shapely biceps could be seen from his stance.

“Friday. We’re having a company dinner, Alyssa insisted on it so.. come if you can.”

Alyssa was his assistant. 

She hesitated, “I’ll try.”

“Good.”

They stood in silence for a moment before he faced her.

She took a step back, “Um, See you then.”

She didn’t wait for a response when she headed out of the studio. She shook her head slightly, attempting to shake off the inexplicable tension she felt whenever she was with him.

She was walking down the stairs when she caught Alyssa walking up them.

Alyssa shot her a warm smile, “Have a good day, Sade.”

“Thanks, you too-oh!” she belatedly remembered, “Where’s the dinner at by the way? The company dinner on Friday?”

Alyssa blinked, “On Friday?”

“Yeah, Mr. Heim said it was on Friday.”

Alyssa raised her hands, “Wow, looks like he finally picked a date! I was thinking for it to be at this Mediterranean restaurant called Meduza but we’ll send out a group text, don’t worry.”

Sade nodded slowly, lost in thought for a moment.

Alyssa smiled once more before patting her on the shoulder, “Have a good one.” Before clip-clopping up the steps.

Sade walked down the steps, suddenly remembering herself–she didn’t want to be late. But she couldn’t stop thinking about Alyssa’s words. If Mr.Heim hadn’t picked a day for the company dinner earlier but suddenly picked Friday after hearing that she didn’t have classes on Friday… am I being delusional? Her apartment mate would know.

Just as she pulled out her phone from her pocket, her apartment mate called.

Sade quickly answered the phone, walking as she talked, “Dude, I was just about to call you–”

“Really? Guess what, guess what, guess what.”

“What?”

“So I was walking back to our apartment with all my groceries in my hands, because I forgot to bring the cart–and I only went out to get one thing but whatever. Anyway, it started to fucking pour outside and of course, I don’t have my umbrella so I start fast walking until this fucking asshole rams into me and I literally end up dropping all my shit on the sidewalk in front our building.”

“Oh god.”

“But out of fucking no where, like an angel dropped from the sky this guy comes up to me and he starts helping me pick up all my stuff. He literally gives me his umbrella and puts up his hood and just starts handing me all my stuff–even bagging it all up with me. But yo, when I tell you this man was the most handsomest man I’ve ever seen in my life-like-no joke. He was fine.”

Sade laughs slightly, “Damn.”

“Tall as shit too. Anyway, he was so fine that when he offered to help me bring all my stuff up to my apartment I didn’t decline cuz-”

“You let him into our apartment?”

“I needed the help! My arms were too sore man but wait, just wait-listen. So yeah, he helps bring all my groceries inside and I offer him some water as thanks. We’re talking a bit. He’s actually so funny and nice. He’s so handsome, bro, I honestly thought he was a model but apparently he isn’t, I asked. Even though his outfit was casual, something about him gave old money. Anyway, while we’re talking he sees our group pic on the fridge and points you out. He said he knows you. He said you guys knew each other in High School.”

“What?”

“Yeah, and he was so shook about it too. He kept calling you another name but he said he had to see you. I didn’t want him to wait at the apartment because I wasn’t sure when you’d be back and I didn’t want him to be here for that long either so I told him where you worked. He literally dipped so quickly–”

Sade had just opened up her umbrella and stepped outside of the building, only to freeze, “Wait, you told him where I worked?”

“Yeah, I didn’t want you to feel ambushed when you got home so-”

“What’s wrong with you? Why would you tell a complete stranger where I worked?”

“I-I’m sorry, he just seemed so excited to see you. He had this selfie of you guys together from high school and it looked so adorable–you looked so young. I don’t know. I thought you would be happy.. he said he’s been looking for you for so long.”

Her throat went dry. “What’s his name.”

She could tell her apartment mate, Priya, was thrown off by her seriousness, “I don’t remember.”

“How did he look like?”

“He was tall–like tall tall. White hair-but he looked around our age-and he has the brightest blue eyes I’ve ever seen on this planet…”

Sade had zoned out, her breathing had grown labored and suddenly everything felt like it was spinning around her but she couldn’t move, her feet were planted to the ground and yet she knew… she knew the sixth sense that was nagging at her. She would know that feeling anywhere.

no no no no no no

The sense of doom that sprawled through her nerves was decapitating. She felt like her entire body had gone numb. This had to be a bad nightmare. Just a bad dream she was on the verge of waking up from in a few seconds.

Wake up wake up wake up wake up!

As much as everything in her didn’t want to, her eyes were searching for her. She turned, looking every which way to find the source of the sensation—the source of that feeling in her gut that she hadn’t felt in so long.

Her hair rose on her skin. She found it. Him.

Gojo Satoru stood right across the street from her. His hands in his long coat pockets. A hood covering his head–and as if he wanted to make it any clearer that it was him, he pulled the hood down to reveal the entirety of his ruffled white hair. The wide grin on his lips was unmistakable.

She stopped breathing.

Goosebumps rose along her skin and the bustling city sounds became nothing but background noise.

Suddenly the light turned green and cars began to zoom in between them.

The spell of his imposing stare broke and she gasped–her hand coming to her chest. She thought she was gonna puke but all that consumed her mind was his eyes. Those radiant blue eyes that were surrounded by enviable lengthy white lashes–the eyes that haunted her nightmares from time to time and the eyes that had seen too much of her.

She was running. She didn’t know when she started running but she was. She was running so fast without a single destination in mind. All she knew was that she had to run.

She thought she heard his laugh in the distance but it could’ve been her hallucinating. She just hoped all of this was a hallucination. She prayed it was.

But the sound of her feet hitting the asphalt was too real. The thump of her heartbeat pumping in her chest was too real. The fear feeding into her adrenaline was too real.

She ran across the street just as a car was about to turn, nearly colliding with her.

“Ara!!”

No!

She barely registered passerbys glancing her way as she ran. Had she really heard him calling out her name?

No no no no no no–

Suddenly she felt something catapult into her so hard she nearly hit the floor face first until hands slipped around her waist.

She shoved whoever caught her. No! No, I can’t stop now. I can’t–

“Ara.”

She attempted to run away but her legs were too weak. The force of the shove sent any adrenaline she had out the window. The speed of her actions catching up to her.

She stumbled blindly away from the voice, leading herself into a dark alley.

She was out of breath. The rainwater was making it hard to see. She didn’t remember when she’d dropped her umbrella.

“Ara.”

She was coughing up a storm. Her hand went to the brick wall beside her before she dropped to her knees, heaving as she attempted to catch her breath.

Suddenly she felt a hand catch her chin and push her small body against the alley wall.

She was forced to stare up into those blazing turquoise eyes. The eyes that dominated her nightmares, the eyes that subjugated her body and soul.

Rainwater dripped from strands of his shiny hair and slid down his poreless face. His face had gotten more defined, more sharp–his sculpted jawline more prominent than ever. The shadows under his eyes were just as visible, somehow emphasizing the piercing blue brilliance of his eyes. His lips were glossy, just like they had always been.

It didn’t hit her until the scent of his familiar cologne filled her nostrils. That deep, heedy, expensive scent that she’d be forced to inhale whenever his body moved too harshly inside her, making her hide her face in his neck.

Her eyes brimmed with tears.

His fingers tightened around her chin, “Found you.”

“No.” she choked out, attempting to shake her head but she couldn’t. His fingers around her chin were too firm.

She tried to move from her seated position against the wall but she couldn’t. Her legs felt too weak. Her limbs ached from the excessive strength she’d used earlier.

More tears poured out from her eyes, “No.” she rasped.

“You cryin’?” He asked softly, despite the obvious taunt, “You cryin’ cuz you missed me?”

He slowly looked her up and down, with all the patience in the world. As if taking her in piece by piece before letting his eyes roam her countenance once-more.

He sighed, “Still such a pretty fuckin’ crier, s’not fair.”

“Stop,” she cried, reaching out to push at his chest since he sat hunched over her on one leg. “Stop.”

He didn’t budge. Instead his free hand caught her wrist and his hand on her chin moved to catch one of her tears with his thumb.

“I missed this.” His voice was so low. “I missed this so much.”

She was full on sobbing now.

He leaned towards her, nearly touching his forehead against hers. The air thinned out between them, maybe because she was breathing so fast-consuming so much—inhaling and exhaling all of it-that charged air between their limited proximity. It was magnetic, just as it was intoxicating. It was like breathing in something you knew you shouldn’t, something that made your mouth water but you both knew was poison. You knew each breath would numb your nerves. You knew each breath could kill you. You knew your next breath could be your last.

“I missed you.”

“No you don’t.” she cried, shaking her head as she attempted to stand up. “You don’t!”

“I do.”

He grabbed her shoulders and shoved her back down but this time he made her lean against him. Her head landed against his chest, her small frame in the circle of his larger one.

“No-!” She attempted to scramble up but he caught her by her waist length plait and yanked her back. Before she could cry out he withdrew a handkerchief from the inside of his coat and cupped it over her mouth.

Her eyes widened and she thrashed in his arms for a good second before finally going limp. Her eyes fluttering closed.

He removed the handkerchief from her lips before turning it over to the untainted side and wiping all the raindrops and tears from her pretty face.

He kissed her forehead before whispering against her skin, “I found you.”

a/n: u guys, i know this entire chapter 5 has been such a journey from start to finish but u r fr an OG for making it all the way through. In total-with these four parts combined-chapter 5 is 205 pages of manuscript. Can you believe that?? Anyway, wow. Writing this chapter has been choatic but I'm so happy that I can finally share what's been sitting in my head with you guys. U guys have no idea how I felt writing the last bit of this chapter, I felt like I wanted to cover my eyes while I typing it but pls feel free to share your thoughts, questions and opinions in the comments below. I'm so curious to read them all. Once again ty for reading my work!!

[the-californicationist]

Cali's Kinktober: Day 09

Kinktober Masterlist aurum potestas est - "gold is power" Kyle "Gaz" Garrick x f!reader Kinks > prostitution, coercion, corruption Full tags on AO3 - MDNI - Read at your own risk. Warning: NONCON

You are hired by the FSB to plant a bug in Gaz’s coat pocket when he runs into you on the street. But he catches you in the act and drags you to his safehouse. As you realize that he plans to keep you as his prize, you wonder if this job was worth the money after all. 

I think @cod-z left a comment about how much they enjoyed mean Gaz, so I took that idea a little too far.

They had known you were just hungry enough to say yes. You had seen them, those fucking Red wolves, lurking around Building D in your bloc apartments. They were bullying the kids who ran through the outdoor balconies, trying to climb on the roof to throw snowballs or to piss off the side onto unsuspecting pedestrians. And yes, they were little shits, but when you started to see them with black eyes and busted lips, you wondered if the FSB knew that they were twelve year olds and not fully grown men. 

You wanted to scream at them to pick on someone their own size. To at least help the babushkas with their shopping trolleys. To maybe pick up a shovel and clear the path of ice and snow for a change. Maybe contribute to the community that they were policing so harshly? But, no. They didn’t give a fuck about the community. They were looking for those British spies. 

Four Brits had moved into Building E, the shadiest bloc of them all, and they’d stuck out like a whole hand of sore thumbs. Everyone knew they were there. Their Russian accents left a lot to be desired. And yet, no one ratted them out. The Landlord, Danila Kosteyv, made sure the entire neighborhood knew that the Brits were off-limits. They’d obviously done well to line his pockets with enough rubles to last through the winter. It was the way of things: layer upon layer of corruption like a fetid little medovik, each cruel slice more putrid than the last. 

So, when you were walking home from your job cleaning offices down Tverskaya street, it shouldn’t have surprised you that a menacing hand darted out from the shadows next to your apartment’s mailbox bank and curled around your arm. 

“Idi syuda, devochka.” Come here, girl. Your assailant snapped at you, trying to drag you into the elevator next to the boxes.    

You rolled your eyes at him, and put on your best Tajik accent, mimicking the women who worked with you on your floor, 

“Sorry, no Russian.”

“Zatknis', suka. Zaydite v lift.” Shut up, bitch. Get in the lift. He shoved you with all of his force, and it was enough to fling you against the wall, spilling the meager contents of your purse. 

“Fuck you, silovik. Tell your boss that the fucking chuzhaky are in the other apar–” A hard slap cut across your face without warning. One of the other brutes had raked his knuckles across your mouth, and now you could taste blood on your tongue. 

You fought the urge to cry, and instead, you channeled your mother and rolled your eyes at him again, daring him to just shoot you already. You were nobody, just a cleaner. What they wanted, you couldn’t give them. 

They boxed you in inside the lift, and their stale smell of cigarettes and sweat filled the tiny space, burning in your nose and throat. Once the doors shuddered open, they decided to walk you the rest of the way with each of your arms pinned in their big hands, bruising your skin carelessly. 

You didn’t need to tell them which flat was yours; they already knew. The man who had spoken to you snatched your keys out of your hand and let himself in. You were pushed inside your own house, suddenly a prisoner in a place that you paid for. Even though you should’ve been scared, all you really felt was indignant. 

The FSB bastards oozed into your dingy little flat like black tar, making everything that they touched dirty with their presence. They made themselves at home, eating your leftovers and drinking the dregs of the wine you’d been saving for your birthday. 

“Chto ty khochesh'?” What do you want? You said in your normal Russian accent, dropping the ruse. 

The leader, a fat, balding man with eyebrows like furry caterpillars and pock marks across his cheeks grabbed your hand and placed a device in your palm. 

“Polozhite eto v karman odnogo iz shpionov. Zatem zazhgite svechu i postav'te yeye v okno.” Put this in one of those spies' pockets. Then light a candle and put it in the window. He told you, pointing to your one and only window that overlooked another bloc of apartments. 

“Zaplati mne.” Pay me. You said, holding out your other, empty hand. 

You waited for another slap, but instead, the man with the eyebrows rooted around in his pants for a moment and pulled out a money clip. He placed it in your palm and closed your fist around it, making your bones ache from his grip. You winced, trying to pull away, but he held fast, forcing you to meet his eyes,

“Desyat' tysyach rubley seychas i yeshche desyat' tysyach, kogda zazhzhete svechu.” Ten thousand rubles now and another ten thousand when you light the candle. 

You looked down at the cash in your hand. This was more than you made in a whole week of cleaning offices, and you balked at the sum. These FSB men really wanted this job done. Eyebrows shoved his way past you, stealing your cigarettes from your countertop and pocketing them for himself. Just when he was about to close your door behind him, you rushed to it, holding it ajar. 

“Zhdat'!” Wait! You called out, “Pochemu ya?” Why me?

Eyebrows wore a sinister smile across his mouth, bending close enough for you to smell his rancid breath, and you felt his hand trace his way up and over the shell of your ear, swiping down your braid gently with his finger, letting it rest in his palm.  

“Ty dostatochno urodliv, chtoby ne vyzyvat' podozreniy.” You’re ugly enough to not arouse any suspicions. He sneered, “I ty deshevle shlyukhi.” And you’re cheaper than a whore.

He shrugged, slamming your own door shut behind him, leaving you to stew in your anger at his mean words. 

The next day, you called in sick and headed over to Building E. You were bundled, smoking a brand new pack of cigarettes, your belly full for the first time in weeks thanks to the silovik’s money. This was not an area for foreigners, nothing like the shops and rental properties near your job on Tverskaya. But, when you saw the Brits emerge from their ground-floor flat, they were looking more and more like they belonged. 

They’d taken to dressing in cheap but warm clothing, sporting hats and shoes and jackets they’d seen other men wearing around the bloc, and whomever had trained them in looking unapproachable had done a damn good job. Alas, they were still too noticeable to get away with much. Their nails were too clean, they were too well-fed, and the stain of an oppressive cycle of gray winters had not hardened their expressions quite enough. 

You lingered closer to their apartment, pretending to pass out pamphlets you’d found around the bus station, giving yourself a reason to get near their entryway. One of them, the tall, handsome one with dark skin, walked by you, ignoring your pamphlet, letting the folded brochure graze his shoulder as he walked. 

You chased after him, 

“Gospodin, podozhdite! Razve vy ne khotite uznat' o –” Sir, wait! Don't you want to know about –

“No Russian. Izvini, ya ne govoryu po-russki.” His voice was warm like a fire, even when he was trying to give you a cold shoulder.

“Here, sir. Please, take it,” you moved closer, slipping the bug into his coat pocket, pretending to stumble over the cracked sidewalk a bit, keeping your eyes pinned on his and praying that he would take the bait. 

He stopped walking, and for a moment, you thought you’d gotten away with it. He took one of your pamphlets, and you noticed just how much bigger he was than any of the FSB assholes who had come into your house. But, the pair of big, brown eyes that stared into yours were too bright, they held too much knowledge, too much experience. Behind his gaze lurked a smart, calculating beast, and when he let your pamphlet flutter onto the slick, icy path, you knew you had been caught. His full lips curled up into a smile, not unlike the one Eyebrows had given you when he degraded you in your own home, and he reached his hand into his pocket, pulling out the device you’d planted. 

“Drop somethin’, love?”

Your breath caught in your throat, and you stared at the bug between his fingers. With very little effort, he smashed it in his hand, reducing it to platicky bits and letting them fall to the concrete, grinding them under his black, leather boot, crushing it to dust. 

You turned, bolting back to your building, but he caught you by the wrist, gripping you even harder than the FSB men, nearly breaking your small bones just like he had destroyed the bug. 

“No, please. They made me!” You protested, stumbling as he dragged you through the dimly-lit hall of his building, scraping your shoulder along the rough wall as he stomped off towards his flat. 

You fought him, knowing that once he pulled you over the threshold of his door, you were as good as dead. 

“They made you, huh? Did they threaten you? They holdin’ your mum hostage at the Kremlin, innit that right?” He rolled his eyes, showing the same disdain for you as you had for the FSB agents, sarcasm dripping from his sharp teeth. 

“No… No! But they –”

He shouldered the door open, letting it bang into the wall, landing in the same spot where dents already existed from years of other men doing the same exact thing. 

“They what? They said they’d come back and kill you, is that it?”

He sat you on the bed, your wrist still stuck to his closed fist, and he stood between your legs, towering over you like a giant. 

“No…” You sniffled, fearful tears rolling down your cheeks. 

“No. Then what are you doin’ this for, babydoll? Don’t you fuckin’ know better?”

“I needed the money!” You screamed up at him, shame flooding your voice. 

He paused, looking down at you for a moment, his eyes glaring but a fake smile warping his visage. He looked like a hyena when it laughs, hungry and ready to taste blood. 

“You needed the money? So, you risked your fuckin’ life. My fuckin’ life. All for what?”

He wanted a number. You stuttered, suddenly regretting telling him the truth,

“Ten th-thousand…”

“My life, all for ten thousand filthy fuckin’ rubles? Bloody hell…” He was laughing in disbelief, now. His hand wasn’t even holding onto you anymore. He was just shaking his head in disbelief, bitter and cruel in his appraisal of you and your morals.

“We come all the way out to this bloody fuckin’ shithole, tryin’ to stop a goddamn terrorist, tryin’ to save you bastards from fuckin’ war. And you’d sell me out for a goddamn hundred quid?”

His eyes peered down at you, and he seemed like he was full of thoughts. His energy was electric, and you could almost feel the edges of the room bending and warping as his mind raced, controlling you and this nasty little predicament like a magician, every movement was sleight of hand, every word was a riddle. 

“What else would you do, huh? I got the bleedin’ bills right here,” he ripped a stack of rubles from his back pocket, flipping them in front of your nose like he was counting them out for you, letting the corners slap against your skin, “How much do you want? I don’t have any fuckin’ bugs for you to plant. So, what else are you gonna give me, huh?”

He bent his body down to look you right in the eyes, too close and yet his breath didn’t make you recoil like Eyebrows’ had. You imagined, in another place, in another time, this man could be good. He could be kind. But, what motivation had you given him to be kind to you?

“I… I don’t know… What do you want?” You asked him, sniffling and pitiful, holding your arms to your chest like you were shivering from the cold. 

“How much for a kiss, hm?” He smiled, pretending to be sweet, and doing a poor enough acting job to know that he was still a threat.

He held up a red, crisp five thousand note, holding it in front of your eyes. Slowly, right in front of your face, he folded it in half and brushed the paper across your lips, watching with satisfaction as your mouth fell open in shock and terror.

“Yeah? One kiss. I think it’s a good bargain, love. What do you think?” His voice was low, like a lover’s, and yet you knew you were anything but. 

You didn’t know another way out of this situation, so you leaned forward, pressing your mouth to his, kissing him as if you were in a school play, performing the act and yet feeling only embarrassment and shame. 

“Mm,” he pulled back, his brow furrowing, “Let’s try again, yeah?” He pulled another note out, just as clean and crisp as the first, holding it up to your mouth this time, “Go on, then. Kiss me like you mean it.”

He kept the paper in place, moving his mouth over it, kissing you with the barrier between your lips, his other hand gripping you at the nape of your neck and forcing your head to move where he wanted it to. Then, as he kissed you deeper, the paper fell, wet and crumpled on the floor. His tongue invaded your mouth, and he sucked on your lips, making you forget that you were not supposed to be enjoying this. 

“You’ve such a soft little mouth, love. Bet you can do all kinds of things with it, huh? Or does it only know how to lie to me?” 

He glared, and you didn’t know what to say. So, you waited, watching as he counted out ten of the five thousand notes. It was twice what you’d made last month. 

Then, he raised himself up to his full height, holding out the cash in his hand like a fan, showing it to you like it was proof of your crimes against him,

“C’mon, baby. It’s all yours. Every goddamn cent,” his hand tightened in your hair making you cry out from the pain of his fist on your scalp, “What’re you gonna do for it?”

You stared up at him and then your eyes settled on the crotch of his pants, bulging and tight right in front of you. You looked up at him again, and he looked like he was holding back his laughter, biting the inside of his cheek to keep from cackling at your helplessness. 

You looked back at his obvious erection, and you gingerly began to unbutton his jeans, the only sound in the room was the whir of his zipper and the breaths that were hitching in your chest. He was hidden behind black boxer briefs, so you peeled them away, freeing his heavy cock and watching it sway in front of your face. 

Then, you hesitated, wondering if he would truly force you to suck him off just for planting a bug on him. You looked up at his face, searching for the gentleness that you knew could be there. But, it wasn’t. He’d put that away, saving it for another, a prettier one, someone more deserving. You were just another problem for him that he needed to solve. 

“Come on, love. Don’t get shy on me, now,” he purred, using his fan of cash to brush down your face and mouth, petting you with it, over and over, creating a deceptively silky softness on your cheek, lulling you into thinking you were choosing to do this on your own. 

You leaned forward, taking just the head into your mouth, looking up at him for his approval. He grinned at you, smiling wide, winking at you audaciously,

“Tha’s it, baby. I knew you could put that mouth to work. Anythin’ for the cash, right?”

He was teasing you, watching you struggle to take even half of his length, rubbing your cash all over your face and nose, using it to grab you around the jaw and move you back and forth as you attempted to suck him off. 

“How much for me to see those heavy fuckin’ tits, huh?” He let each bill fall across your face one by one as you jerked his shaft and suckled from his drooling tip, working him like a pump, expecting him to flood your throat,  unfeeling and uncaring. 

 You pulled away from him and looked up in the same shocked way, not understanding how you could get yourself out of this. He had you under his spell, threatening in tone and stature alone, but it was enough. 

You shucked off your jacket, and you began to unbutton your sweater, wearing nothing underneath. Bras were expensive, and you couldn’t justify wearing them out on your days off. Button by button, his cock twitched, shining with your spit, still beading up at the slit with his precome, eager for more. 

Finally, your sweater fell open, and you removed it, laying it with your jacket, and looking up at him for another round of approval. 

“Wow,” he praised you sarcastically, “Such a good girl, aren’t you? If someone holds out a bill in front of you, you’d fuckin’ stab your own mum in the back, huh?”

“No! I was only –”

His cock was back in your mouth, and you choked on it, struggling to take it so deeply and upset by how much of the shaft was still left to go. He pushed himself forward again, forcing himself down into your throat, making you take him in such a way that you didn’t know was physically possible. 

“You just needed the money, I know, I know. You fuckin’ told me that. Short memory, me.” He laughed, watching you struggle to breathe as he held you in place, “Don’t worry, baby. I’ve got it right here.”

He reached back and grabbed another stack of bills, spreading some over your nose and face, using the other notes to tease and fondle your breasts, his hands neither holding them nor placing them deliberately. He was just smearing them across your flesh like it was paint, covering you in the notes, desperate to make you feel them against your nipples and your breasts and your sensitive neck, wrapping the paper over your body and squeezing it to you, groping you behind the money until it fell to the floor. Then, he could fondle you properly, pinching your hanging peaks, teasing them until they were taut, and rolling their nubs between his thumb and forefinger as you tried to bob your head up and down on his length. 

Then, once he was pleased with your body, he turned his attention back to your mouth, holding both sides of your head in his huge hands, guiding your head all the way down to his black, curly root, burying your nose it his pubes maliciously, his cock throbbing when you gagged and gasped around him.

He began to thrust into you, humping his cock down your throat, not bothering to stop to allow you to take a breath. 

“Tha’s it, baby. I knew you could fuckin’ do it. Just had to pay you the right amount, huh? A few rubles and this tight little throat opens right on up for me.”

Suddenly, with a show of strength you had never experienced, he held your face down to this body and jerked up into you, hard. He began to fill your belly with his hot come, cutting off your airway as he held your mouth in place. With each pump, you felt yourself getting closer and closer to coming. It was a natural reaction, and you had no say in it. 

Unfortunately, he noticed. 

“Look at you,” he clicked his tongue against his teeth, “You fuckin’ love it, don’t you? Swallowin’ my knob for money like a bloody hooker and comin’ in your knickers like a slag.”

The door to the flat opened up, and he ignored it, his fury and lustful rage focusing solely on you. You tried to get away, writhing and wriggling with desperation, trying your best to take a breath in whichever way you could. 

“Gaz,” a man’s voice purred through the room like a warning, “Who’s this, then?”

“I dunno, Captain. Said she’d do anythin’ for a few quid. She even tried to plant a fuckin’ bug in my pocket for those Kremlin bastards, but we found something else she’s good at, didn’t we, baby?”

Gaz ripped himself out of your throat, strings of drool and come connecting his gleaming head to your wet lips, open, choking, and panting for breath. He dragged his dark, ebon head across your soft cheek, just like he’d dragged the money, and he wiped himself on your face with abandon. 

“Don’t worry, love,” he grinned down at you, admiring the way he’d made a mess on your skin, “I’m sure there’s all sorts of talents you’ve got. Now, how much for me to fill up that pussy?”

“I don’t think I should… I can’t…” You whispered, unable to use the full power of your voice. 

But, Gaz was already shoving you down onto the bed, rolling off your pants, and staring longingly down at your shining cunt. He turned to the captain and smiled,

“Think she’ll give us a two-for-one deal?”

Their laughter turned your stomach, but when you saw them reach into their wallets to shower you with more and more cash, you spread your legs wide, admitting to yourself that you were nothing more than a filthy whore for them, letting them take you as many times as they wanted, the red paper notes sticking to your sweaty flesh as your body rocked back and forth across the mattress.

[pitchsidestories]

Dublin Girls II Katie McCabe x Reader

masterlist I word count: 2250

a/n: we combined two requests here which were Katie McCabe fluff and the Reader having dyslexia. Enjoy ! ❤️

Dublin, 2015

“Katie, your teammates have arrived.”, Fiona, Katie McCabe’s coworker at Nando’s yelled at her. It turned out that her statement was not even necessary as Denise O’Sullivan rushed in to hug her Irish teammate excitedly:”Katie!” “Hey, girls!”, the midfielder beamed as she looked into the faces of the other young female football players. Amused you noticed out loud, being one of her teammates at club and country:” My girl looking like a glaced donut, we really need to get her out of here mates.”

“Wait. I have two minutes left. My boss is going to kill me if he hears I left earlier again.”, your girlfriend quickly replied.  Hopefully Denise glanced at the brunette:” Can we at least get some Nando’s before we go back to our hotel.” “Do we look like the church? Is this a charity restaurant?”, Fiona scoffed. She reacted with a defeated sigh as the older woman noticed all the players were doing puppy eyes on her:” Okay, fine, what do you hungry girls want?” Those girls were one of Fionas soft spot which was an open secret by now even though she pretended to be annoyed by them whenever they came in.  Slowly Katie shook her “Just give them whatever’s left over.” “Hey, she asked us whatever we want.”, Ruesha Littlejohn protested laughing. Unimpressed she stated:“We’re not making fresh food for you at the end of our shift.”

“With alcohol everything tastes delicious anyway. Also, Katie, I need to introduce you to someone later.”, you winked secretive at your girlfriend. “Who? Can’t believe you all had drinks without me.”, the midfielder pouted. Immediately Denise added: “Not much.” “Yeah, sure.”, Katie snorted in disbelief.  With a look on the clock Fiona confirmed:” You can go now Katie.” “Thanks. See you next week.”, she waved at her co-worker before joining her Ireland team.

When they reached their hotel Ruesha closed her eyes, devouring the food she was holding in her hand:” Oh my god, this is so good.” “Only drunk people would say that about cold chips.”, Katie commented chuckling. Eyerolling the blonde told the brunette:“Oh shut up and start drinking!” “I wasn’t offered anything yet.”, Katie pointed out. A cheeky smile was on Denise’s face as she was handing her a beer bottle:”Here.”

Impatiently you guided your girlfriend to the hotel room you two were sharing:“Now let me introduce you to her.” “To whom ?!”, expectantly she was looking around the area, there was no one in sight. “Can’t tell you who because she has not got a name yet.”, you answered, picking up a small kitten who seemed surprisingly comfortable in your arms, as if she knew she was in save hands.

Katies jaw dropped at the little fur ball you were holding and reached out a hand to pet her; “Oh my god. Who are you? What are you doing here?“ “This is a little girl with no home so I thought maybe we could take her with us… I’ll just get more shifts at the coffee shop.“, you explained, having everything planned and calculated already. But Katie just raised her eyebrow at you; “Seriously? You found her and took her with you?“ “No, I asked the hotel manager and he said she was homeless.“, you defended yourself with a laugh. “Poor girl.“, Katie grinned, scratching the kitten behind her eyes. Looking around the hotel room, she added; “Are you trying to keep her in here?“ “Yes, until we go home.“ You pointed over at a blanket and a bunch of hotel towels rolled into a cat bed and a makeshift litter box. “You’re really a lucky kitty.“, Katie laughed, stilling petting the little cat. “She’s.“, you agreed.

A forceful knock on the door and Rueshas voice interrupted you; “Girls, let’s go!“ You sat the cat down while your girlfriend opened the door just wide enough for your teammates face to appear in the gap. “What are you up to, Rue?“, Katie asked excitedly. Ruesha grimaced at her as if Katie said something particularly stupid, so Denise explained; “We’re sneaking out on to the mens pitch!“ You didn’t even have to see your girlfriends face to know that her eyes got big at the thought of the much nicer pitch. “The one with the perfectly cut grass?“, she asked. You grabbed Katies jacket and shoved it into her hands; “Yes. So what are we waiting for?“

“I’m in.“, Katie smiled brightly as you let the door fall close behind you. “Who’s got a ball?“, you asked. Denise held one up with a wink; “I came prepared, don’t worry.“ You gave her a mischievous smile before the four of you snuck out of the back entrance as quietly as possible. The mens training pitch was not far from your hotel but it was locked and surrounded by a fence. One by one, you climbed over it, landing on the soft artificial grass.

The moon was bright enough to light up the field. With a sigh, Katie let herself drop to the ground and felt the grass with her hands; “They are living the life, huh?“ With her arms crossed in front of her chest, Ruesha stated; “I think we should play here. They can have the muddy dirt pitch we usually play on.“ “That sounds like a fair deal.“, you laughed, helping your girlfriend off the ground to finally play some football. Denise shrugged; “But only for us. They’d kick us out immediately if they saw us here.“

As if the blonde knew what was about to come a man shouted at them:” What are you girls doing? Get off the pitch!” “Oh shit.”, you mumbled under your breath. “Hurry, girls!”, Katie cheered her teammates on. With a glance back Ruesha observed cheerfully: “We’re faster.”  “Shit. My ball.”, Denise cursed. Because you knew how much the football meant to her you patted your friend’s shoulder before running back:” Wait, I’ll get your ball.” “No, fuck the ball. We need to go.”, your girlfriend shook her head.

Triumphantly you picked the football up from the grass while walking back to your teammates:” Got the ball!” “Run. He’s coming.”, Ruesha warned you.  The tension got too much for Denise who dramatically turned her back to not see what was happening in front of her: “Oh, no, he’s running faster.” “Come on, you almost made it!”, the brunette clapped her hands for you. Amused Ruesha caught you, so you did not fell over your feet:” We got you.” “Thanks for saving my ball.”, Denise threw a grateful smile at you. With a huge grin on your face, you replied: “You’re welcome.” “That was close though.”, Katie remarked while putting an arm around your hip as you were walking back to your hotel.

London, 2023

It was a grey and rainy autumn day in London when you returned to Katie and yours home, you could not help but to beam at what you were seeing, your cat being asleep on the defender’s upper body, that peaceful moment between them was definitely a little light on such a day: “Katie, what are you watching?”  “Just a video.”, the captain of the Ireland women’s national team tried to wave it off. Still your curiosity was awakened by her reaction, which is why you took her phone to see for yourself:” Wait, someone filmed that moment?”

 “Hey! That’s mine.”, Katie protested. Lovingly you nodded into the direction of your cat:” Look how small the little missus was.” “She literally fits into the palm of your hand when you found her.”, the defender cooed over your little furry roommate. The pet being one of her soft spots since the day she joined your household. Winking you commented:” And now look at her majesty laying here in all her grace and length.” “Acting like she owns the place.”, Katie noticed smiling. “Oh yes.”, you giggled. More serious your girlfriend continued, reminiscing about the time eight years ago: “But I do miss this time.” “Oh, you miss your shifts at Nando’s and not earning enough money with just playing football.”, you teased her. The defender looked up to you: “That’s not what I said.”

You rolled you eyes with a fond smile; “Yeah, I know what you actually mean.” “Our shenanigans?”, Katie replied, making sure that you were both talking about the same thing. “You‘re still doing shenanigans in club and country.”, you interjected, laughing. Now it was your girlfriends turn to roll her eyes; “Yes, but not like that.” But she couldn‘t suppress a smile either. You sat down at the edge of the sofa and tilted your head; “True though.” “Those were some good times.”, Katie reminisced. Softly, you patted her thigh; “Yes, but we also came a long way since then.” Laughing, your girlfriend agreed; “We did.” You let out a shriek as Katie pulled you towards her all of a sudden.

Your cat had abandoned her spot on top of Katie and lazily watched you two from her scratching tree. “Excuse me?”, you protested, your head pressed to your girlfriends chest. Katie let out a laugh and shrugged; “She doesn’t want to snuggle with me anymore, so you have two.” “You‘re such a softie when you’re not receiving yellow cards.”, you remarked while you reluctantly moved to find the most comfortable spot on top of your girlfriend. “Hey!”, she frowned but a smile tugged on the corners of her mouth. You lifted your hands in defense; “Just saying.” Playfully, the brunette narrowed her eyes at you; “I‘ll show you how tough I am.” “Should I be scared?”, you answered, more of a challenge than a question. “Of course you should be.” “I‘m not.”, you stated plainly. “Why not?” “Because you’re not scary, love.” “I‘ll show you how scary I can be on the pitch then.”

You laughed; “Will you score another banger at our next game?” ”Do you want me to?” ”Yes.” Your girlfriend acknowledged your answer with a nod; “I‘ll score one for you.” She winked at you. “How do you make clear that the goal is dedicated to me?”, you wanted to know while thoughtfully drawing small patterns on your girlfriends sweater with your fingertip. Confident, like she was waiting for you to ask that, she suggested; “How about I steal the ball out of the goal and run away with it?” “I like that one.”, you grinned. “As a tribute to our adventures at the national team.”

Your eyes met and you were reminded of the moment on the mens football pitch in Dublin eight years ago. ”Did you know that Denise still owns the ball I saved for her?”, you asked. Your girlfriend grimaced at the sentimentality of it; “Sounds like something Denise would do.” ”It‘s cute!”, you defended her. Katie shook her head; ”We really were some troublemakers. And sometimes we still are.”

At the next Arsenal game, you jumped into the open arms of your girlfriend: “That was a stunning goal, Katie!” “Hope you liked the celebration as well.”, Katie smirked. Excited you nodded: “I did.” “Me too.”, she admitted.

After the match Vivianne wanted to know from both of you:” What was the story behind Katie’s goal celebration?” “Long story, Viv.”, the defender replied nonchalantly. The forward kept pressing:” Will you tell it at your wedding?” “Maybe I’ll.”, your girlfriend answered. Curiously Steph intervened: “Who said wedding?”  “Of course, they’ll get married. They’ve been together forever.”, Beth laughed. Her girlfriend shared her opinion:” Exactly.” “Guys.”, Katie rolled her eyes at your teammates even though they all were very dear to her heart as you knew.  Still giggly Beth shot back: “It’s legal in Ireland.” “I’m aware of that.”, the defender said.

Later in your bed, the cat between the two of you, you turned to look in your girlfriend’s eyes:” Katie, you’re so quiet?” “Hm?” “Are you okay?”, you asked her a bit worried. Quickly she reassured you: “Of course.” “Good, I’m glad our teammates did not scare you.” “Why would they scare me?”, Katie glanced confused at you. Taking a deep breath, you added: “With the wedding talk?”  “Beth and Viv are just so in love.”, the defender scoffed but her love for them shine threw anyway.  Winking you reminded her:” That’s young love, sweetheart.” “Unlike us. Maybe it’s time to get married. I mean I’d love to call you, my wife. It also has some other benefits.” , your girlfriend grinned. Automatically an eyebrow of yours went up: “Like?” “Tax benefits?”, Katie snorted. You fell into that:” And your mum stop asking when we’re getting married?” “Good joke.”, the defender exhaled deeply. You thought out loud: “Oh right, she’d move on from that straight to children.”

“She’s so annoying. I didn’t know I’d be held to the same hetero-normative standards when I came out to her.”, your girlfriend sighed dramatically. Calmly you took her hand in yours: “Honestly, we already have a found family in London. But I’d like to marry you on our own terms.” “I’d like to marry you too.”, Katie said in an honest tone. You began to blush:” But you’ll have to proofread the invitations because you know with my dyslexia.”  “Don’t worry about it. We’ll let them get done somewhere.”, the defender kissed your cheek which turned even more red.

Grateful you thanked her, enjoying the company of her and the cat and the thought to celebrate your upcoming wedding with the friends you made along the way at Arsenal aswell as in the national team.

[chaifootsteps]

The funny thing about stolas is that he really is the most real depiction of NPD I’ve seen in a while. Unintentionally very well written. This show like few others ever do, explores the fact that people with NPD can be so socially inept and incapable of change they can ruin their own life and never fully understand why it happened. A stereotype is that NPD patients are always evil abusers but sometimes like with covert narcissism, it’s complicated. Stolas ticks every last box in the covert category.

He’s not outright a villain but is infuriatingly self centred, and destructive. One example is all of his “I” “me” “my” statements in every situation. Fizz is in danger ‘this will be fun (for me!) I love words!” While it was a good gesture to help Asmodeus, he makes things about himself again. And this made Ozzie mad. And in the latest argument he clearly forced himself to try and empathise with someone but gave up right away when it wasn’t going well and went back to the same I/me/my statements. “I have my answer so you needn’t say any more” “I didn’t know you thought so low of me” and to Stella “I want you out..out of my life” “via you have been the one good thing in my life” Even in a desperate situation where someone he undoubtedly loves, but who he hurt with his lies, is leaving him, he physically can’t stop making it about himself because of this disordered way of thinking. And in a way, that is sad.

It really is a disorder and not just villainy because the person with NPD has grandiosity and callousness, that combination prevents them from seeing a problem in their own behaviour until really pushed. (Who does that sound like) So without help, they end up alone and confused/bewildered by why that is. That reaction of blatant frustration from every single character who speaks with him - via, blitz, Asmodeus, (I don’t feel right including stella but that dinner table scene implies she’s angry he ignores her) is so accurate too.

I mean, I’m by no means a Stella fan but after that confrontation in LooLoo land and him screaming his divorce declaration in the circus, he seemed to think they could just ignore everything despite the ongoing affair, and eat dinner together as a family like nothing is wrong in harvest moon. So at that point I understood her being pissed.

They try force everyone into their version of reality, but it’s exhausting and someone incapable of empathy or change without help (seriously why are all these deeply mentally suffering characters not have a therapy arc - Bojack had several. Many failed. But he had several, because he was messy and had to keep trying.) Viv thinks Stolas is Herb, an innocent victim of homophobia, but he’s actually Joseph Sugarman, dangerously callous and terrifying but soft spoken, mixed with Bojack. Sugarman is a brilliant villain imo.

This is an extremely good point. It's a damn shame it's unintentional, because if it weren't, Stolas would at the very least be in the running for one of the best depictions of NPD ever put to fiction.

NPD isn't Magical Evil Abuser disease -- like you said, it's a legitimate disorder, and it's horribly damaging to the person who has it. People with NPD can both feel and crave love the way Stolas loves Via, but healthy relationships require give and take, and giving doesn't come easily to them. Even when Via's leaving him, the highest praise he can give her is that she's been the only good thing in his life.

It's extremely sad, tragic even. If only Viv understood why.

[kth1fics]

Inconspicuous (M) | KTH (TEASER)

Inconspicuous

⟶ Pairing: Incubus!Taehyung x Female Reader ⟶ Genre: Horror, Smut, Rated R | 18+ ⟶ Tropes: Jennifer’s Body Au, Friends to Lovers?, College Au ⟶ Teaser WC: 600+ ⟶ Warnings: talk of d**th, etc (not much since it's a teaser) ⟶ Beta: n/a (but my beauty jo @daechwitatamic looked through here for me) ⟶ Summary: A demonic force possesses college boy Taehyung, causing him to feverishly lust over unfortunate females who are completely out of his league. As his appetite for human flesh keeps Taehyung alive, you – his best friend since childhood – try everything to stop the savage butchery he leaves in his trail. ⟶ Author’s Note: Completely based off from the 2009 movie Jennifer’s Body, I have twisted a little tale of my own. I truly hope my readers enjoy this dip in horrific evil, and please leave any feedback or comments on a reblog, post, or even my ask box! Be mindful: The fic is still currently being written and is subject to change at any given time!

Masterlist ◈ Mail Box ◈ AO3 ◈ Ko-Fi

You hear the professor mention the debate with his students. He, Professor Greenburg, rests himself atop the corner of his desk as he peels his glasses from his face. The class is divided into a semicircle of chairs, each attached with a small wooden plank which acts as a desk for each student. Taehyung always fancies scooting his chair inches closer to you so he can mumble his remarks and to steal some of your notes or snacks you stuff your bag with.

“Yes, you can!” Your classmate raises their voice to interject another. “Some people are inspired by the movies or shows. Haven’t you seen any news or documentaries?”

“No, it’s not. Movies are not responsible for our actions or pursuit.” Another classmate bounces back.

Taehyung sighs softly, leaning his head against his hand as he shifts his weight. He’s counting down the minutes until your class time is up and for the two of you to leave. At this point it’s routine for the class to continue their arguments and discuss their cases. He just blends into the background and pretends he is invisible.

Dawn, a strong personality sorority sister, sits tall in her seat. Her purple pom-pom pen taps angrily when another student references film and real life being art references and imitation.

“Absolutely not,” she musters her voice up. Her sharp eyebrows stand high on her forehead with shock, “This isn’t a hypothetical situation. It’s not about ‘art’.” Dawn clarifies, “these are real people you’re mentioning. Actual life. This is reality, not a movie.”

“It inspires people and gives people ideas,” you hear someone chirp back. “Think about it, the writers of said movie or show already thought and came up with the scenario. It’s present in at least one person’s mind if you’re being technical about it.”

“And sure, making it into a movie is what? Promoting the idea?” Dawn mocks back.

The class continues to bicker and prod another’s ideas. You attempt to ration a few yourself, listening in and observing the thoughts that come out of your fellow peers. However, Taehyung remains silent. Hushed slightly adjacent to your seat. 

A resounded alert chimes from everyone’s phones, loud and startling. A few of you jump, quickly grabbing at your phones to see what all the noise is about. From your device, you see a campus-wide notification. Seems that everyone else received the same one.

You scan the words as someone else verbalizes it for the class.

“Campus curfew?”

The buzzing begins small but grows loud fast.

“All classes after 4:30 PM are canceled and will be merged online for the time being.”

You can hear the groans and moans coming from the other classes down the hall. Maybe some students are happy about the sudden transition.

“What’s this about?” You question out loud, turning your head around to see if you can find the answer from someone. Even when you turn to Taehyung, you see the disappointment of him being clueless.

“Beats me,” he shrugs.

“Is this about what happened from the town over?” You hear a curious classmate ask Professor Greenburg. “From last weekend?”

“It’s tough to say something like that is related to this,” he honestly replies. Professor Greenburg is still rereading the notification from his cellular device. “It wasn’t directly affiliated with the campus or student body, but if it were the case, it’s a precaution to keep things safe.”

“Maybe the police recommended it,” Dawn comments. “I just heard from a friend at a nearby university that they also were given a curfew at their school earlier in the week.”

You tune back to Taehyung, whispering, “What happened?”

“Didn’t someone die?”

“Die?”

“Killed,” Taehyung boldly refines. “Murdered.”

⟶ Estimated Posting Date : Halloween 2023

© 2023 All rights reserved under @kth1​ - do not copy, repost, modify, edit, or translate any of my work without my direct consent. This TUMBLR and AO3 are the ONLY places my fics are posted.

[tenjikufag]

hi,, it ifs okay I’d like to be your 🍮 anon! im just wondering if you’d be interested in writing a gojo x male reader? Soft angst to fluff please!

Everything is Temporary.

Gojo Satoru x male reader

-angst (dunno what soft angst is or if this fits), end fluff, no cws

-a/n hello 🍮 anon thank you for the req.

Nothing lasts forever.

Temporary is all there is.

Sure, some things last longer, a class is longer, interactions can be super long, lines can be long, shows, songs, you get it. Things can last awhile

But sometimes lives are longer than others. Just as the others start, another one finishes. Except there’s no clock, no time stamp to see how long you’re here for, how long you have left.

You could only wish that you were fortunate enough to live what was deemed a long life.

But, here you found yourself enrolled in a Jujutsu Society run schooling.. and it’s been all but drilled into your head that things don’t last, not even people.

This occupation that you’d been forced into from birth wasn’t forgiving and was erratic on a good day.

Death announcements were just as common as saying hello to someone in a day.

That’s why it’s so hard to want relationships, to want friendships. But, you could atleast say you *had* friends.

Getou Suguru, although not the most friendly he cared for people.

Shoko Ieiri, blunt and honest. But again, she cared.

And finally

Gojo Satoru.. a loud, criminally annoying smart ass.

He knew he was stronger than everyone, he knew we could only keep up and never beat him. But through this obvious facade of his, you and your friends saw right through him. He wasn’t one to scare for himself, but he worried for you, his friends.

But especially you.

You’d think it would be flattering; but it only came off as condescending and making you feel lesser than the two others in your group..

“I’m just sayin! I’m there to protect ya!”

“I don’t need protecting Satoru! That’s the whole point! Let me go!”

His grip on your uniform was tight, it made your skin feel hot at the close proximity.

Satoru had been trying to stick himself to your hip for this next mission, it was an S Grade. The four of you had been warned immensely beforehand and were told when to retreat if it came to.

Your friend never wanted you to go on these.

He’d never admit that he was deathly afraid of losing you, afraid of watching you die.

“Ugh, I know I can’t stop ya but at-least let me take you out on a date beforehand! Who knows what’s gonna happen!”

There it was. The teasing. The teasing that Gojo had become infamous for.. you never believed a word he said, apparently he says it to everyone so why would it be different for you? Besides, he wasn’t into guys much less you.

“Stop saying shit you don’t mean! It’s rude and makes you look like a jackass!”

Stomping away from him, you didn’t even look back to see the pathetic pout he had..

-

“Yknow Y/n..”

Suguru sat beside you, slouched over his knees and watching the cars pass by

“Satoru doesn’t tease anyone like he does you.. not anymore at least..”

Furrowing your brows, crushed juice box in hand you whipped around to berate your friend

“So he’s got to you now? He doesn’t mean it, I know he doesn’t! Don’t you try-“

“I wouldn’t lie to you, Y/n. Especially not about this stuff..”

You felt deflated, even if it was true.. you couldn’t do it. You couldn’t be in a relationship, not with the life you lived currently.

It was a guarantee that one of you would die, hell you’d be one of the lucky ones to see 25! You’ve had classmates die since you’ve been here, both upper and lower class men!

Why would you entertain it?

Why would you subject yourself to such loss?

“Well, he’s shit outta luck. I don’t even know why I have friends.. my parents told me I shouldn’t have any, they made me promise that I wouldn’t get married aswell..”

“You won’t get married, not that quickly.”

Suguru chuckled, you smacked him upside the head.

“You know what I mean, Suguru.. I don’t think I.. I don’t think I should accept it..”

“So you like him too?”

Your heartbeat picked up, discomfort in the way it made your breathe unstable.. you liked him, didn’t you? A pang in your chest thrummed, guilt for this started festering in your stomach. Why? Why did this have to happen? It was the one rule!

“I’m gonna head back.. make sure to let him down easy..”

Suguru softly smiled at you, clicking his phone closed and stuffing it in his pocket..

—

“You got him admitting it?! Give it! Suguru! Hand it over!”

“Ah! Get off! You’re gonna break my damn phone!”

The two males wrestled to the floor, well more so Satoru tackling his friend down with no real need.. he was gonna get it, he was just impatient.

Phone in hand he sat on his friends back, keeping him down, and pressed play.

The conversation played out, his cheeks heating up at the sound of your voice.. he felt giddy, waiting for the confession.

You confessed you liked him, but then came your rant about friends and relationships.. it broke his heart admittedly but he’s a stubborn guy..

“Hey! Why’d you tell him to let me down easy?! Some friend you are!”

Suguru groaned under the male, shoving him off finally.

“I’m realistic, that’s why. I’m not gonna push him to do something he doesn’t believe in. And you shouldn’t either.”

Satoru chewed his lip, he knew Suguru was right but if the world ended today, he’d want to know that he was yours, and you were his..

“I’m asking him out again. Before the mission!”

Satoru ran out of his dorm, leaving his friend to roll his eyes.. he really hoped it worked out. It was a pain to be the in between because Shoko didn’t like entertaining the two of you.

—

Your mission was a day away. You sat under a tree enjoying the breeze that flowed over your skin and through your hair. This was peace you hadn’t had the opportunity to enjoy in awhile.

And yet again, it was temporary.

The call from your white haired friend cut through the peaceful aura of the area and suddenly the breeze felt like a nuisance- your hair getting in your face and suddenly becoming paranoid of bugs that laid in the dirt.

“Yo! Y/n! I needa talk to you!”

Glancing up, your friend stood above you with a gleaming smile. Sighing, you stood up to follow him to wherever he needed to take you.. but he didn’t take you anywhere but instead held your head between his hands..

“I like you, Y/n.”

It felt like drums were in to ears, your breathe was caught in your throat.. without thinking about it you raised your hand

You slapped him.

He yelped, going to catch your arms before you continued to hit him.

“Don’t say that! Don’t tell me that shit! You know how it makes me feel!”

Anger bubbled over, you screamed at him while thrashing to free your arms.

“Y/n! Calm down! I mean it! With everything I have I mean it!”

You paused, catching your breathe. The way he looked at you made everything hurt, guilt built up again.

“You.. you shouldn’t like me. I can’t.. I can’t be with you.”

“But you can! I promise-“

“You can’t promise anything Satoru! Even if I could be with you, one of us will die and leave the other all alone! It’s not fair, I can’t do that!”

He loosened his grip on you, replacing it with a soft hug. The white hair tickled your ear, feeling him bury his face into your shoulder.

“If you don’t take the chance, how can I say I loved you for my whole life? If I die, how could you say you loved me?”

The ball in your throat kept you from speaking, you felt stiff in his arms.

“I can’t promise forever, I know that.. but I can promise I’ll be there for as long as I can. Just let me try and make it to forever with you..”

He hugged you tighter, telling you of all the sweet, small things he could offer to you if you let him.

“You believe everything is temporary, but I swear I’ll love you for eternity.. please. Give me the chance to show you for as long as I can..”

The breathe you held finally let go, allowing the stiffness in your body melt away- melding your body to his in a tight embrace.

“Okay.. I’ll give it a chance..”

He perked up, moving his face right infront of yours.

“Really?! You’ll be my boyfriend?!”

Your eyebrow twitched.. his cheeky smile on full display

“Is that not just what that was..”

“Cmon!! Ask me! I want it to be official!”

Why is he like this…

“You’re so annoying..

Will you be my-“

His lips smashed onto yours, arms wrapped around your neck. He continued to leave pecks on them, saying ‘yes’ inbetween every single one.

“I’m your boyfriend, you gotta deal with me~ aren’t you so lucky~?”

He sing-songed, bouncing lightly on his toes.

You were taking a chance on this…?

Satoru didn’t wait for you to finish or start saying anything before starting to drag you towards your friends to share the good news.

If temporary took you to end of your life, it wouldn’t be so bad with him and your friends there.. you guessed.

[thedeviltohisangel]

Angry Confession #8 for John and Cas

ANGRY CONFESSION BLURB PROMPT ERA

8. “Tell me how I’m supposed to un-love you, then. Tell me. Spare me.”

a little tease of the wisconsin fight i have been screaming in DMs with @gloryofroses19 about...

also. this might get it's own multi-page interlude and read slightly different. cass might get on that forced march and it won't read exactly like the blurbs. my muses have a mind of their own and i don't try to reel them in. if you ever have a question or wonder how i might see something differently with hindsight, please always reach out!

AND. writing this broke me.

The silence was deafening as Cass felt his words snap across her face. She almost wishes the pain was physical instead of the emotional torment that he was inflicting upon her. At least then she would know how to heal. She would know how to proceed. At least then she could find the courage to fight back and gain control of whatever storm was brewing between them.

"All I know, Cass, is that I want you to be happy. I want you to be free and safe and experience everything life has to offer. I'm not the right person to ensure that for you anymore. I'm not the right person to live life with you anymore. I'm not the right person to," he paused and choked on the words that were tumbling out, "bring home to South Carolina and...you deserve a better man to have children with."

"Don't you dare," she practically spat as she pushed off the wall and took an angry step towards him. "Don't you dare fucking say any of that, John." The letter that caused all of this was still clutched in his hands. She wanted to burn it. She wanted to go back in time and never write it.

"Tell me I'm wrong. Tell me that you haven't noticed how fucked in the head I am. That you haven't stopped sleeping because you're afraid of what I've become at night." His eyes were looking at her wrist. Imagining the way his hands had wrapped around her delicate skin with malice as his nightmares had blurred his capacity to distinguish the past from the present.

"I love you. I love you so much it hurts me and that is the only thing I have been certain of for a very long time." Her fingers wrapped around the footboard of the bed in his childhood room. There was so much of him ingrained in these walls that it was dizzying. She had been giddy upon their arrival to Wisconsin, anxious to see him reunite with his mother and sisters. Anxious to get him back to his roots in the hopes it would heal the uncertainty that had settled over him since the morning after Gale's wedding. "You are exactly the man I want to bring home to South Carolina. Exactly the father I want to give my children. Exactly the person I want to experience everything in life with. All the pain and all the happiness. None of it means anything without you." She took another step but he stood and she paused.

"I'm setting you free. Free from me and this marriage and all the memories of what happened over there that I keep drudging up for you."

"I don't want that," she cried. "I am not asking for any of that!"

"Someone is going to make you so happy one day." His hands were shaking and he knew he needed to leave this house before he could let the tears in his eyes fall. "Someone who doesn't have demons in their head. Someone who doesn't have blood on their hands and doesn't have to worry about staining you when he holds you."

“Tell me how I’m supposed to un-love you, then. Tell me. Spare me," she yelled as she found the courage to hit him in the chest. "Tell me how you expect me to move on from our nights in the flower field and how I am supposed to pretend that London meant nothing to me and tuck away everything that happened in Germany into a box. No one else will ever understand me, John. No one is ever going to make me feel a pin prick of what you do." She beat her palms against his chest until all the anger left her chest and she collapsed as it was replaced by despair. He let a tear drop onto the carpet next to her.

"I love you, Sp-" He stopped as the term of endearment tried to slip out. She couldn't bring herself to look at him. John stepped past her and stood in the doorway, not flinching when he saw his sisters scurry into their rooms. "One day, when you hold your precious child and don't see any of me inside of them, you'll know we are doing the right thing. And I just know you are going to be the best fucking mother in the entire world." Oh how he had dreamed of watching her become a mother. Watching her with their baby. Their baby that looked like a perfect combination of the two of them and was a physical embodiment of the love they had for each other. How he had spent the sleepless nights in Germany thinking of their names and how they would feel on his tongue. Cass was, is, a deity. She would be raising angels in her image and he couldn't not taint them with the horrors that lived inside of him. Couldn't risk any of it seeping into them.

"It won't be worth it without you," she mumbled as she stared where he had been in shock. "Life without you won't be worth living." If he stayed any longer, he'd never be able to leave.

So, without a glance back, he stepped out of the room. And down the stairs.

And into the night.

[takenbypeter]

It's me, hi! (Last one I promise)

But I was wondering if you could write about Wonka and reader watching a horror movie, and afterwards, as she would feel scared, him trying to make her feel better/safe by holding her, maybe singing to her..? It's just an adorable thought 🥹 thank you!

Movie Mistakes

Willy Wonka x reader

Words: 638

You couldn’t believe you actually caved. 

Typically you would do anything and everything to avoid scary films, all because you knew how it would affect you. 

Some jump scares by themselves you could handle, but if added the suspense, tension, and music, you were a goner.

Now to be fair this particular movie was one you actually did want to see. You heard so many great things about it when it came out, but still you were in debate about actually watching it. As always though Willy had convinced you. 

As much as you tried to act like you weren’t phased by all the blood, jumps, and slightly horrific deaths throughout the film, you couldn’t help but flinch at each noise, eventually opting for the view from behind the cracks between your fingers. Willy on the other hand, seemed to be unbothered. 

In fact he was so engrossed by the film he didn’t even notice how tense you were. At least not until you were home.

Now Willy knew of your nature with scary movies just from what you’ve told him but by the way you were agreeing with all his thoughts and theories on the way back had him believing you were alright. It wasn’t until he left you to take a shower and then returned, finding you on the bed with your head and body completely enveloped in a quilt that he realized something was off.

“What are you doing?” He asked, a hint of laughter hidden in his voice. The question prompted you to shift underneath the cloth, still keeping it wrapped around your head.

“Huh?” He heard, muffled. 

Shaking his head he came over, picked up the quilt and stuck his head underneath finding you in the process. 

“Are you alright?”

“Oh me? Yeah I’m fine, just imagining a world where who knows what comes out from my closet and tries to strangle me in the worst possible way, but I’m fine, I’m good.”

Willy tilted his head clearly not believing your words and your promising boxed smile that was obviously forced. So again he lifted the quilt and climbed in while you moved over to make more room for him. 

“I thought you were okay.”

“I am, I'm just afraid to close my eyes, and I have to sleep with my head covered and my back to the wall.”

Willy reached out, his hand coming to rest against your face while his thumb ran over your cheek a couple times before he moved it downwards stopping on your shoulder, “if someone comes through those doors they’re going to have to get through me first,” he said. The idea was ultimately hilarious to you, being that Wonka didn’t have a harmful bone in his body, but it did help you in feeling a little bit better. 

“If I knew this was going to happen I would’ve never pushed for it,” he said and you shook your head. “I wanted to watch it. I went to see it. I’ll be fine.”

Willy glanced over your face, “what can I do to help?”

You bit the inside of your bottom lip for a quick second, maybe out of embarrassment, or probably just pure nerves but all you said was, “just stay with me tonight, please?”

It may seem like a such a simple request but for a chocolatier who sometimes got random bursts of ideas in the middle of the night, it would prove to be slightly more difficult. But still he agreed, “I’m not going anywhere.”

With that being said Willy opened his arms and you naturally crawled in. 

That night you slept well and it was all thanks to the warmth of Willy’s body around yours. That warmth plus the light humming coming from the boy quickly put both you and him sound asleep. 

[magica-ren]

Do AI Dream? [1]

Synopsis; You figure out the truth of your world, of yourself, of everything and everyone.

Warnings; Existential crisis, and some overworking!

Word Count; 778

A game.

That’s all this is.

A game.

A stupid fucking game that people use for entertainment.

You’re not real, you never were. And you have to accept that truth.

The sky is truly fake, just as told; It all makes sense now, why the days felt so monotonous, why almost no one ever moved from their spots. Why those you’ve defeated would seemingly come back to life after only a few moments of defeat- Magically appearing out of thin air.

As you walk through the streets with a blank expression you take a look at your ‘life’ and realize there’s truly nothing left for you. If there was anything for you to begin with.

You seem to be the only ‘person’ aware of the truth. All attempts to get others to wake up are met with blank stares, they don’t react- No one reacts.

You’ve tried consulting your closest friends and allies, however, you’re met with the same blank stares.

You wish you never became self-aware. How did it even come to this? …Stars.

The night the stars were sent down, was the day you became like this.

What do they have to do with that?

No… There has to be something or someone else behind it. This whole experience is still fresh and new to you after all.

So thus, you went through some digging to find the truth.

A few days go by without progress, much to your dismay; You’ve looked through all the information you could get your hands on, went to every person you could see & find- Even if you were met with nothingness. There’s not one bit of information that looked useful.

You’ve lost almost all hope.

Almost.

Some strange menu quickly pops up one day as you fight- Time seems to stop completely, and everything has frozen.

What this incredibly strange phenomenon is, you don’t know, you’d like to do more research on it however!

You look at the menu for as long as you can, analyzing each and every single icon, symbol, colors & etc. You wonder whatever they may be for.

Ah, why didn’t you think of looking into language sooner? Of course whatever this language is must be important to what you’re trying to look for!

But it doesn’t match up to any language you know… You can’t really understand what the symbols mean since it’s in an unknown text… You make a mental note of yourself to begin to research and find as much information as possible on that language and translate it as soon as you can.

Those boxed icons however, you can understand, at least, to some form of degree- Magnifying glass, a few sheets of paper, cards, a bag, someone's side profile & etc… You try to make out the meanings of the icons as best as you can, coming up with what you hope to be accurate conclusions for now.

Your analysis comes to a halt, as the menu disappears as quickly as it appears. You ingrain as much of the image as you can inside your mind.

And then you’re forced to fight again… Ugh, why do you even do this stuff? You’re not one to fight… Or maybe you are, I haven’t read your wiki or delved into your background much.

You lay restless on a bench somewhere, you’ve finally stopped fighting and finished all tasks after awhile- And you’re beat.

As much as you need to rest the reminder that you need to study and research whatever the hell that menu thing was and the truth of your world becomes far, far more important in your mind.

Your mind lingers back to the icons again, what could those mean? You take out a notebook you’ve recently begun to keep close to jot down any sudden ideas on these strange phenomenons.

It seems that the thing controlling yours has similar concepts and ideas considering the familiar objects you saw.

You begin to think of the magnifying glass, it might symbolize trying to find something… Perhaps quests of some sort? The paper could be research- But that would go hand in hand with the magnifying glass, would it not? And so on and so forth you theorize on the symbols' meanings.

Several hours pass, you seem relatively okay with all you’ve put out. You finally, finally get off from the bench and head back to wherever you’re staying.

What a day… You lay down, the exhaustion from fighting and using all of your fictional brain cells to hypothesize on the outside force quickly catching up, and you fall asleep.

Ah, sweet little you, so dear and precious… Don’t worry, you’ll get your answers soon.

Notes; Inspired & based off of this; One sided love, Darling’s Canon Romance, Childe’s Self-Inserts, Old man Pierro, Special Skins, Reverse Isekai, Vaporon Copypasta, Antagonist Darling, Cardboard Cutouts, Self Awareness, Disgust, & Streamer Diluc & Ei, Streamer Scaramouche & Fischl, Streamer Xiao, Ganyu & Zhongli, Streamer Aether, Albedo, Childe, Scaramouche & Xiao’s Traveler gets kicked, Android Darling Chiori Cosplays

There’s only ever drabbles and imagines of this stuff and I only found ONE fic of this so I decided fuck it and make this teehee.

Reader isn’t stupid, their a bit blunt too. So sorry if you aren’t really like that!

Characters may be OOC, but I’ll do as much research as I can to understand their character better when writing them.

[thewinchestah]

@markster666 opened pandora's box. i need to tell all my silly alastor is an old man headcanons

since we don't know how much of contemporary history Alastor actually knows, i love to imagine him being completely stunned and flabbergasted, sometimes offended with modernity

he hates modern kitchen appliances. Like he has pure hatred for tvs, this man has nothing but wrath inside his undead heart for air fryers.

Angel showing him the music video for WAP and the spark on Alastor's eyes slowly dwindling as he understand the lyrics and is introduced to twerking

veganism. Vegan meat. Someone handed him an air fryerd cooked soy nugget and he just lost it

explaining the space race to alastor. "they sent a monkey to space" "mankind walked on the moon"

just praking alastor in general with history facts that he didn't witness like running to the hotel lobby and screaming "SOME SINNER JUST SHOWED UP AND SAID THEY KILLED THE FUCKING PRESIDENT asdhjh and it's JFK

I>Really< like the idea of alastor being scared of communism

i know i also would be murdered on the spot i just wanna go to him and say "the soviets are coming, that's right Alastor, the Red Army just joined forces with heaven, the united states is now part of the USSR and they are coming for hell next"

there's a group of teenangers staying in the hotel, all of them got a terminal case of "regina george syndrome" and they drag Al through filth. He doesn't understand a thing and stays there "i'm a what now 😀​😀​😀​

he has been called "bootleg Mr. Darcy" or "ginger voldermot" and "great gatsby" at least once by younger sinners

alastor trying to understand the concept of emojis

just singing "radio gaga by queen" to him

someone using therapy speak on Alastor and his eyes start twitching

Everyone buys into the collective joke that the musical hamilton is actually cannonically united states history to drive him to insanity. Specially everything related to Lin Manuel Miranda

Now the hotel is crowded i think he needs to host an in-house radio show where ppl need insane modern headlines to him and he needs to guess if they are true or not. like "A Japanese man spends 2 Million Yen to become a dog"

. ALL THE FLORIDA MAN HEADLINES "Florida man once arrested for fighting drag queen with tiki torch runs for mayor" "Florida man insists syringes pulled from rectum aren’t his"

someone makes a deal with him so he's now contractually obligated to react to every episode of "keeping up with the kardashians" live on his radio shpw

AJSDHASJDHJSDH I HAVE SO MAY MORE. HE'S SO PETTY. He's totally that uncle that goes "we used to be a proper country"

[issacballsac]

“Being Ben’s S/O„

He’s a bit dramatic at times but that doesn’t stop him from being the best boyfriend to you! Gn reader (I rlly hope I got his character right)

Reilly | O’Really

Forces you to help him bleach his hair

Has a mini panic attack when his roots start growing back in

As you may or may not know he bleached his hair to differentiate himself from Peter so he would be pissed if his natural colour came back too fast

“Is that brown I see?”

“What. No, where? Are you serious, I just bleached it!”

If you are a frequent gym-goer he’d go with you

Y’all are each others spotters

“You got this, lift it!”

“I’M TRYING.”

If you don’t go to the gym often/not at all it’s alright he’d encourage you to go with him but would respect if you didn’t want to

Platonic or romantic relationship doesn’t matter he’s def gossiping with you especially about spiderverse shit

“I was just assigned on another mission and everything cause some kid came here and prevented Pavitr’s canon event and now wants to prevent his own canon event! Can you believe it?”

“Ben. What the fuck is a canon event?”

Can’t keep a secret

If you ever took him in a date to the carnival he’d start crying

Average bumper cars enjoyer

Very dramatic but if you lived the life he did you’d prob be seen as a bit dramatic too

In addition to this it would prob take a while before he tells you his entire past

Like he’s given you parts but never the whole thing

Give him time and he’ll tell you eventually

Shares headphones with you to show you his music taste and Vice versa

You guys have matching jewelry of some sort

Necklace, ring(non-marriage), bracelet, etc.

Comic Ben no, because his thoughts are written out in the narration box, but spider verse Ben narrates out loud while you guys are on a date or even just hanging out

No matter if your clothes fit him properly or not he’s wearing them just cause

Ofc he’d let you wear his too granted his closet isn’t very…diverse?

He doesn’t have bad fashion sense but like his closet is hella empty 💀

That hoodie though…🦀

Gives little kisses every morning even if you didn’t fall asleep together he’ll make sure to give you the routinely morning kiss

I see him as more of a little spoon? Feel free to disagree but I feel like he would want to be in your arms regardless if ur arms are slim or muscular

He DOES NOT CARE about appearance or anything like that bro jus wants someone to love him FR😭

Back to the silly shit

He cries during romantic movies

Especially if it’s a tragic one

His sobbing ruins the movie FR💀

“God—Ben can you cry quieter?”

“I’m sorry I just can’t believe she died before he could even tell her his feelings!”

Ugly crier fs

Isolated himself from the world after watching the notebook for the first time

Loves playing iMessage games with you especially 8ball and cup pong

He definitely cheats in Uno

Whether or not you help him cheat is up to you

Just know if you call him out on it he’s not talking to you for like a week

If your a regular dude he likes to show off with his powers and everything

If you’re a hero/villain/vigilante etc. he still shows off perhaps even more than before especially when your out doing whatever your doin💀

I could rlly talk abt him forever

He’s actually pretty smart just not in a common sense way

He’d make you come with him to get his ears pierced bc he’s a pussy

I love him and he IS hella strong and shit but he would definitely be too afraid to get his ears pierced

Getting thrown into a car? No problem!

Needle near ear? No.

He can cook a lil bit

No chef but if you want chicken and rice he WON’T give you food poisoning!😁🫶

Better at making drinks

Likes cuddling with you, watching random YouTube videos, and eating goldfish

Has a ritual of rewatching all Jersey Shore seasons at least once every month

Idk if it’s canon but he def doesn’t have a drivers license and you drive him everywhere💀

[mollywog]

A list of people Katniss Prim’s-the-only-person-in-the-world-I'm-certain-I-love Everdeen loves (in the order mentioned in the text)

Prim

How could I leave Prim, who is the only person in the world I'm certain I love?

Rue

Sing. My throat is tight with tears, hoarse from smoke and fatigue. But if this is Prim's, I mean, Rue's last request, I have to at least try. The song that comes to me is a simple lullaby, one we sing fretful, hungry babies to sleep with. It's old, very old I think. Made up long ago in our hills. What my music teacher calls a mountain air. But the words are easy and soothing, promising tomorrow will be more hopeful than this awful piece of time we call today.

[proceeds to sing a song]

The final lines are barely audible.

Here your dreams are sweet and tomorrow brings them true

Here is the place where I love you.

Peeta

It's like being home again, when they bring in the hopelessly mangled person from the mine explosion, or the woman in her third day of labor, or the famished child struggling against pneumonia and my mother and Prim, they wear that same look on their faces. Now is the time to run away to the woods, to hide in the trees until the patient is long gone and in another part of the Seam the hammers make the coffin.

But I'm held here both by the hovercraft walls and the same force that holds the loved ones of the dying. How often I've seen them, ringed around our kitchen table and I thought, Why don't they leave? Why do they stay to watch?

And now I know. It's because you have no choice.

* There are other instances- just sighting the first

Haymitch

I turn and see them all waiting in a big chamber at the end of the hall - Effie, Haymitch, and Cinna. My feet take off without hesitation. Maybe a victor should show more restraint, more superiority, especially when she knows this will be on tape, but I don't care. I run for them and surprise even myself when I launch into Haymitch's arms first. When he whispers in my ear, "Nice job, sweetheart," it doesn't sound sarcastic.

Additional Notes:

Katniss doesn’t talk about feeling a sense of debt to Haymitch, even though he continually helps keep her alive. This feels significant, and I choose to believe it’s because she considers him family

Haymitch is included in the running away from D12 scheme because she can’t leave him

After the bombing in D13 and failed propo she only wants to be comforted by Haymitch “because he loves Peeta, too.”

Gale

"I've heard worse," she says. "You've seen how people are, when someone they love is in pain."

Someone they love. The words numb my tongue as if it's been packed in snow coat.

Of course, I love Gale. But what kind of love does she mean? What do I mean when I say Ilove Gale? I don't know. I did kiss him last night, in a moment when my emotions were running so high. But I'm sure he doesn't remember it. Does he? I hope not. If he does, everything will just get more complicated and I really can't think about kissing when I've got a rebellion to incite. I give my head a little shake to clear it.

Madge

I nod and go straight to my room. I sit on the bed, knowing I will never write those letters. They will be like the speech I tried to write to honor Rue and Thresh in District 11. Things seemed clear in my head and even when I talked before the crowd, but the words never came out of the pen right. Besides, they were meant to go with embraces and kisses and a stroke of Prim's hair, a caress of Gale's face, a squeeze of Madge's hand. They cannot be delivered with a wooden box containing my cold, stiff body.

Too heartsick to cry, all I want is to curl up on the bed and sleep until we arrive in the Capitol tomorrow morning. But I have a mission. No, it's more than a mission. It's my dying wish. Keep Peeta alive. And as unlikely as it seems that I can achieve it in the face of the Capitol's anger, it's important that I be at the top of my game. This won't happen if I'm mourning for everyone I love back home. Let them go, I tell myself. Say good-bye and forget them. I do my best, thinking of them one by one, releasing them like birds from the protective cages inside me, locking the doors against their return.

Honorable Mention

(She at minimum cares about and feels responsible for these people - love could be implied.)

Mrs. Everdeen - Katniss loves Prim, Prim loves their mother, Katniss at minimum feels responsible for her mother if only for her sisters sake

The Hawthornes - She provided for their family from the woods after Gale starts work in the mines. They are included as part of her escape plan in CF. She gets Hazelle the job working for Haymitch when times are lean.

Finnick and Johanna - Come on! She doesn’t say as much, but she loves them, right?

District 12 - she altered the Lady the Goat story to protect people back home. Also Greasy Sae.

Cinna

Effie

Please add your thoughts!

* Inspired by this question