#or i can adjust this completely to be different as well

[fairiesthrum]

Can I be 🧚‍♀️ anon if it's not taken pls!! And ok... what are your thoughts on cult leader Geto? 🫣🫣

🎀 — OFC U CAN BE FAIRY ANON AHAKSJAUSJ

and abt cult leader geto hmmmm (incoming yap session y’all)

ngl, i expect his wife to absolutely HATE his guts. like i’m talking melania trump core (i made a small post abt this before).

i can just imagine some young woman from a powerful clan being forced to marry some weirdo obsessed with monkeys (cuz yes, you genuinely didn’t know what he was talking abt when he said monkeys and thought he was insane in the beginning. well... you still think he’s crazy).

i would describe suguru’s wife to be the “nonchalant” kind, very elegant, just cares abt that bag and living a good life. you have no interest in sexual relations with him at first (though he was super hot and that’s what pushed you to agree to the marriage in the first place), and neither does he (the both of you actually sleep in separate rooms). suguru only married you to gain support and followers. so all you had to do was make appearances beside him, sit pretty, act like everything was fine, and spend the rest of your life not having to lift a finger whilst gawking at your husband’s dashing looks. easy enough, right?

wrong. you actually end up learning he’s a cult leader through these strange meetings (yeah, your parents totally forgot to fill you in abt that part).

it sets you off (like fr mom and dad? a cult leader??) and you become irritated with him and everything he does more and more as the days pass. you start acting like an entirely different person, smacking his hand away when he tries to hold it in public, opting to clutch onto your designer purse instead. and geto just stands there with a close-eyed smile, laughing it off.

you couldn’t even stand to look at him. you married a psycho obsessed with killing non-sorcerers. but what could you do? your parents practically sold you to him! so the smartest thing you could think of in terms of fighting back was to not listen to a word he says. and it gets really awkward for the people around you both when you’re constantly acting like a bitch and geto sits there with a tight smile, everyone else in the room sharing concerned and nervous glances.

nowadays, all you ever really did was grovel abt your terrible life while wearing your designer clothes and wiping your tears with the designer handkerchief that you pull out of your designer handbag #richpplproblems

but suguru brushes off your behavior all the time, assuming you were having trouble adjusting even though it’s been two months and you used to act pretty normal in the beginning of your marriage. maybe it was a lot to process? so, he doesn’t do anything abt your attitude… until you really embarrass him.

it ends up with him dragging you into his bedroom, away from prying eyes, seething and red-faced. it was completely unlike your usually calm and collected husband, and it made you smug that you finally got a reaction out of him. and it pacified something inside of you, a part that was desperate for revenge due to being stuck in this god awful marriage.

geto, being the ever so observant person he was notices the change in your eyes, resulting in a back and forth between you two consisting of yelling and screaming. until, he finally slams his lips onto yours, shutting you up.

clothes are ripped off and then the next thing you know, both of you are fucking on your marriage bed for the first time, gasping out between moans abt how much you can’t stand each other.

the rest of that night was spent hate-fucking, then acting normal and back to snide remarks the next day. until it happens again… and again… and again.

only because both of you are scared to admit you enjoy the steamy sex and the fact you’ve started having feelings for each other since you’re both stubborn. so, the two of you just find an excuse to fuck all the time by getting on each other’s nerves.

anyways, that’s my take on cult leader geto ₓₓ

[pearlzier]

ㅤㅤㅤ ㅤ 𝜗℘ㆍ nerd.ᐟmatt ☆ nerd.ᐟreader ，✿

"POPULAR, YOU'RE GONNA BE POPULAR," you'd sing when you were doing absolutely anything. it was no shock to anyone that you adore musicals, you're an absolute theatre fiend. since you were a little kid, it's been your form of escapism, being able to transform into a different person on stage instead of how sheepish you usually are. matt personally loved how confident you were infront of an audience and so passionately speaking the lines you'd worked so hard to perfect.

after the inarguable disaster that was the mean girls adaptation (you'd quite literally sobbed into his arms about how bad it was) you two were pretty sceptical about a wicked movie adaptation.

"you really like uh.." matt's watching you, as best as he can, anyway, considering the fact that he's driving the two of you towards the cinema. his eyes flutter back to the road, hand working over the wheel as he holds onto it. "uh.. what's her name, the woman who played glinda on broadway—" he drums his fingers against the wheel in thought.

you adored the original wicked on broadway, you'd practically learnt the entire score, and you were so serious when it came to elphaba and glinda. literally, you and your bestfriend had gone as them one time for halloween before it was trendy to do so—the 'og's, shall we say. you loved many musicals, but wicked would always have a soft spot in your heart. having gone to see it live, it was a memory you'd never forget.

you were like, the most qualified ever to judge whether a wicked movie adapation was actually as good as it should be.

well, matt thought you were, anyway. he held you in extremely high regard.

he doesn't even get to finish before you're interjecting, "kristin chenoweth!" causing a smile to spread across his lips. there you go again, so eager to talk about musicals. he only ever sees you this happy when you're talking about the things you like or when you're with him.

"kristin chenoweth," he agrees quietly, watching the way the gleam in your eyes twinkles as you speak. he's in awe, pure awe, at how perfect you are. he'll get better at voicing it, he's sure of it. he's just.. a little overwhelmed by how much he loves you.

"she's amazing, matt," you insist, adjusting the tote bag sat in your lap. nothing could describe the amount of energy you have right now, you're practically bouncing off the inside of the car with joy right now. this might be one of the best moments of your life if you're completely honest with yourself.

"this is gonna be amazing, 'm sure of it. the marketing team are working overtime for this." matt might actually cry if he has to drink down another glinda themed robinsons drink—he won't, he'll brave it for you, but still.

matt isn't exactly into musicals the way you are, he usually plays video games, watches movies, and gets so hype over them it's crazy. though, you get it, your interests make you just as feral. but this is a movie musical, so you think he'll be into it as well. wicked was inescapable, his entire for you page was just glinda and elphaba and he wasn't even mad about it. couldn't be, especially with how happy it made you.

it was like when hamilton was trending, oh, god, you'd performed like seven one woman performances of the musical that he's sure he can quote the entire thing by now.

the two of you are quiet for a little more, the original broadway cast singing away in the background as it plays through the car speaker from your phone, 'till the car comes to a stop outside of the cinema. "we're here," he murmurs, killing the engine once he makes sure his parking's perfect.

"oh my god, matt! we're here. what if i faint? what if i vomit? oh god, i won't get to see the movie if i faint or vomit, will i? oh no, uh, okay, i need, uh.. oh—"

"hey, hey, relax," matt says, gently, wanting you to chill out a little. he offers a sheepish little smile and he murmurs, "uh.. we can go get the themed popcorn buckets and you can throw up in there if you want to.. in style.." that makes you giggle and you nod, practically ripping off your seatbelt so that the two of you don't waste any more time inside the car. he has to quickly get out to join you, making sure that you don't run off on your own.

as the two of you walk, his fingers awkwardly twitch at his side as he wishes to hold your hand, but he's a little apprehensive to. though, he doesn't know why he's so apprehensive about it, the two of you are dating, holding hands is a simple thing. but.. he is.

"wicked's real popular," he murmurs, glancing around. "it's real amazing," you add in return. the two of you make your way inside the cinema together, and you glance at eachother for a moment. he smiles, you smile, and it sends a surge of warmth through both of you. leaning against his shoulder, you watch as he pays for the two tickets, and even more heat surges through you at the fact you're one hundred percent going to be seeing wicked now. matt likes how happy it makes you. it makes him almost as happy, he's sure.

and you notice this, after a little. there's a bit of a queue—wicked was so popular—and you end up interlacing your fingers with his own. it makes a heat flush to his cheeks and he offers a smile to you, shuffling closer to you and pressing by your side a little just to make sure you don't get too cold considering it's getting colder out.

"line's pretty long," he notes quietly, glancing up. you guys are near the front, so it's okay. "mmh, yeah, but we're almost in," you agree, swinging your interlaced hands as you stand beside eachother.

"popcorn buckets?"

"popcorn buckets."

you're a mess when you get out of there. literally, he's got stains on his hoodie from your tears, not that he minded all that much. he'd be a hypocrite otherwise, he's feeling a little teary eyed himself. thrusted against his chest are the various popcorn buckets that you'd bought, as you're currently trying to compose yourself and make sure your pink makeup doesn't run. you'd dressed up in full glinda gear, as best as you could, and he'd gone as elphaba. in your words, he'd given you total wicked witch of the west energy, in the best way.

he mumbles a soft, "you're okay," switching the popcorn buckets to one arm so he could gently rub your arm as the two of you made your way out. a soft smile settles on his lips, just watching you. everyday he's reminded in little moments why he loves you so much. this is definitely one of them. matt quietly leads you out of the screening room, giving smiles to the people working at the cinema, ones who are quiet heartwarmed by your reaction to the movie and how much it clearly meant to you.

"that was just.." matt sighs softly, shaking his head as heat flushes to his cheeks. he shifts his weight a little, gently tugging on you for you to stop. it's just outside of the screening, his eyes meeting yours. your eyes are glossy, gleaming beneath the pink and green lights illuminating you both. "perfect," you finish for him, words wavering a little as you speak. god, you've never enjoyed a movie more. definitely a top ten movie. maybe even for matt, too. he couldn't deny how good it was.

matt nods his head at your words, adding a quiet, "really perfect," you'd one hundred percent be watching the movie a gazillion times after, probably in cinemas, but also definitely on some illegal websites when you got back home. matt'd be joining you, totally. he may not have been a complete musical fan, but he'd get into it for you, definitely.

"i'm like.. a new person after that," you tell him, shuffling closer to him and leaning your head up against his chest. he places the buckets down on the ground beside you two and he tentatively wraps an arm around your middle to bring you up against his chest.

"me too.. might be a musical fan.." a laugh slips past his lips ³and in return you giggle too. a soft sigh escapes you afterwards, head tilting to the side a little. he blinks when you look up at him like that, and the heat floods his cheeks a little more. he's getting warm from all the attention, really. but you're looking up at him like he hung the stars and the moon, and it makes him feel so unbelievably special. his heart's pounding against his chest, literally.

"i.. wanna kiss you," you find yourself saying before you even realise, and matt practically splutters and stammers over his words in return. "oh, uh.. you do? oh," he swallows thickly, glancing down at the ground a moment before he meets your gaze again, nodding his head. he'd been thinking the same exact thing, since.. right now, your lips look like they're coated in pure sugar, all shiny and glossy.

"you can kiss me. i wanna.. wanna kiss you," he mumbles, slowly easing his hand upwards on your back, his lips parting.

you're the one who goes for it, bringing your lips to his in a gentle kiss. he brings you as close as possible with his hand, a dreamy sigh slipping past his lips against your own. you let your hands come up and cradle his jaw, both of your eyes shutting together as you take in the bliss that is the kiss you're sharing. when the two of you part, he's breathless, eyes gleaming in a similar way to yours. "you taste like candy," accurate, considering all the candy you'd been eating during the movie, but he loves it.

you feel a heat come to your face at that, and you glance at the floor sheepishly. "i do?"

matt nods, because yeah, you do. he sweeps his tongue over his bottom lip, tasting the sweetness that you'd left there in the kiss. he's incredibly intoxicated by you, how you taste, how you feel, just.. you. "yeah.." he really wants to do it again, but the realisation that you two had just kissed in public hits him and he ends up burying his head in your hair to try hide himself in some way. "oh my god, we just kissed, in public," you say in realisation.

he's got absolutely no clue where all of this confidence comes from, but he murmurs a breathy, "y'know what's not public?" that makes your eyebrows raise in interest, lashes fluttering a little bit. matt relishes in that expression on your face, just for a moment.

"what is?" you soon ask, brows furrowing now.

"my bedroom," matt wiggles his eyebrows instinctively, and despite your surprise at his forwardness, you laugh. a genuine, soft, laugh. god, you adore him. enough to the point you quickly run behind him as he practically drags you back to the car.

ִ ֹ ★ @deansbite i hope you and our 120+ kids are proud o'me for writin' consistently :3

ִ ֹ ★ @mattybsgroupie, @mattslolita, @stellasturns, @stevelacylovebot, @55sturn, @jetaimevous, @phone4pills, @aesthetixhoe, @venusiers, @chrissdollie, @stvrnmc, @sarosfilms, @sarosfilms, @funkycoloured, @v3nusasgirl, @beridollie, @pr3ttyf4wn, @sincerebabydoll, @cayleeuhithinknott, @j2ss7, @sweetrelieef, @l3sbiancvnt, @beausling, @lovesickgrlsrh0t , @cupiidk1lls, @sofiassaturn ִ ꒱

[falcado]

Stully NSFW Alphabet

A - Aftercare (What they’re like after sex)

Billy: Not very affectionate, but if he feels Stu needs care, he can be protective and warm, hugging him to keep him from feeling cold.

Stu: A sweet mess. He jokes to lighten the mood but can surprisingly turn tender if Billy needs it.

B - Body Part (Their favorite body part of theirs and their partner’s)

Billy: Likes his own hands because he feels they give him control, plus they’re naturally long and slender. On Stu, he probably adores his neck since it’s thin, long, and easy to mark.

Stu: Loves his legs because of how they look in any position and because his height makes them long and lean. On Billy, he probably loves his intense, dark eyes (and maybe his teeth, though he wouldn’t admit that to Billy).

C - Cum (Anything to do with cum, basically)

Billy: Doesn’t mind getting messy, depending on the situation, though he doesn’t enjoy swallowing during oral sex and prefers to spit.

Stu: Has no filters and finds it amusing, sometimes even overly theatrical about it. Doesn’t mind swallowing.

D - Dirty Secret (A dirty secret of theirs)

Billy: Sometimes fantasizes about things involving blood, especially knives. He’d love for Stu and him to carve each other’s names into their arms or bodies after sex.

Stu: Has lots of fantasies, mostly related to masochism, whether spanking Billy or the other way around.

E - Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)

Billy: Calculated and knows what he’s doing, aware of exactly where to kiss and touch, though not as experienced as he pretends to be.

Stu: About the same level of experience as Billy, maybe slightly less, but the main difference is their distinct approaches to sex.

F - Favorite Position (This goes without saying)

Billy: Prefers being in control, in a position where he can dominate and observe Stu entirely. Likely enjoys being on top while maintaining eye contact.

Stu: Loves anything involving lots of physical contact. He’s more flexible and enjoys experimenting, though he doesn’t mind being on top occasionally.

G - Goofy (Are they serious or humorous in the moment?)

Billy: Serious, though not necessarily cold or overly rough since it’s someone he loves. He’ll adjust his pace if Stu asks.

Stu: Impossible not to laugh or make a joke. Sometimes he does it to annoy Billy or because he’s nervous and doesn’t want to feel sad during such an important moment with him.

H - Hair (How well-groomed are they?)

Billy: Always well-kept because he likes taking care of his hair, though he probably has a lot of pubic hair due to his perception of masculinity (in my headcanon, Billy has some internalized homophobia).

Stu: Likely grooms himself a lot, maybe even more than Billy. Unlike Billy, he shaves in the “bathing suit” area and likes being smooth everywhere.

I - Intimacy (Romantic aspect)

Billy: Struggles with being romantic, but if he feels connected, he can have deep and vulnerable moments, especially if he’s stressed.

Stu: An emotional whirlwind, putting all his energy into making Billy feel special. If Billy doesn’t reciprocate, he might feel discouraged but won’t show it.

J - Jack off (Masturbation headcanon)

Billy: Methodical, only doing it when he feels the need. Likely uses it as a stress reliever.

Stu: No filter, sees it as natural and even fun. Likely fantasizes about Billy a lot.

K - Kink (One or more of their kinks)

Billy: Bloody kink, dirty talk, impact play, and knife play.

Stu: Roleplay, praise kink, and possibly some interest in blood (though he jokes about it more than he genuinely enjoys it).

L - Location (Favorite places to have sex)

Billy: Prefers complete privacy, not interested in taking risks.

Stu: Anywhere, anytime. He enjoys the adrenaline rush of potentially being caught.

M - Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)

Billy: When Stu is vulnerable with him or says sweet things (might also have a praise kink).

Stu: Seeing Billy relaxed or angry (any intense emotion) drives him wild.

N - NO (Something they wouldn’t do, turn-offs)

Billy: Can’t stand feeling humiliated or losing the control he deems necessary, such as being tied up.

Stu: Anything excessively painful (physically or emotionally). He jokes about it but has his limits.

O - Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Billy: Skilled but does it more to please Stu than for his own enjoyment. Prefers receiving oral over giving it.

Stu: Loves it. Enjoys both giving and receiving, though he can be a bit rough or use too much teeth due to his enthusiasm.

P - Pace (Fast and rough? Slow and sensual?)

Billy: Slow and calculated but can speed up if the situation calls for it.

Stu: Unpredictable. Starts playful and fast but adjusts to what Billy needs.

Q - Quickie (Opinions on quickies)

Billy: Tolerates them but doesn’t prefer them. Likes planning everything out for the best outcome and gets frustrated if it doesn’t go as envisioned.

Stu: Lives for quickies. Finds them spontaneous and exciting, loving to catch Billy off guard.

R - Risk (Do they experiment or take risks?)

Billy: Only takes risks he feels he can control but is more daring with Stu.

Stu: All about risks. Finds it thrilling and fun, though he can get nervous and back out midway.

S - Stamina (Rounds, how long they last)

Billy: Can last a long time but doesn’t like dragging it out unnecessarily. Might do two or three rounds if motivated but prefers one well-executed session.

Stu: Infinite energy. Always wants more, even if Billy is done.

T - Toy (Do they own/use toys?)

Billy: Practical but curious. Has probably researched but not purchased.

Stu: Likely has a hidden collection, many of which he bought as jokes initially.

U - Unfair (How much do they like to tease)

Billy: Fair but enjoys building tension.

Stu: Playful and annoying. Stops at the worst moment just to hear Billy complain.

V - Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make)

Billy: Quiet, mostly grunts or heavy breaths, though he might let out an occasional moan if Stu is on top.

Stu: Constant noise—talking, laughing, or moaning—regardless of the position.

W - Wild Card (Random headcanon)

Stu convinced Billy to try Ghostface roleplay before the killings began, with Stu as the killer and Billy as the victim. Stu was terrible at dirty talk, and it was a disaster, but they laughed so hard it became a cherished memory.

X - X-Ray (What’s under the pants)

Billy: Prefers comfortable, loose underwear and always keeps clean.

Stu: Sometimes wears underwear, sometimes doesn’t—it depends on his mood when he wakes up.

Y - Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

Billy: Linked to stress or repressed emotions. When aroused, he can be very insistent.

Stu: Always ready. His energy level makes him insatiable, though he’s less pushy than Billy.

ZZZ - Sleep (How quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Billy: Gets up almost immediately to clean himself but doesn’t necessarily leave.

Stu: Falls asleep like a rock, especially after multiple rounds. Always snuggles Billy before knocking out.

[moonlitwitchdaisy]

Xmas Stories From Moonlitwitchdaisy

❅ Concept: Hello everyone! I’m here with a concept I’m super excited about. We’re almost in December, and the Christmas spirit has already kicked in. So, this year, I’ve brought a little gift for everyone, whether you’ve been naughty or nice. I’ll be writing four different Christmas-themed one-shots. I honestly can’t think of a better combination than JJK boys + Christmas.

Before diving into the summaries of the one-shots, there are a few things I’d like to mention.

❅ First of all, the one-shots will contain mature content, so MINORS DO NOT INTERACT! It’s only for +18 audience.

❅ Taglist is open. If you'd like to be tagged in a specific one-shot, please leave a comment with its name. You can ask to be tagged in more than one or even all of them. (I just wanted to mention this since not everyone might want to be tagged in all of them ♡)

❅ I’m planning to post the stories every Sunday.

❅ I’m not entirely sure how long the stories will be, but I can promise they won’t be super short. My priority is delivering the fun and vibe of the concept described in the summaries.

Alright then, if we’re past all that, take care of yourselves until the first story drops, and don’t forget to share your thoughts in the comments! Hope you enjoy it (ˆ⌣ˆ)

Last Christmas, I Gave You My A** (Gojo Satoru)

Last year, Gojo Satoru had been a good boy. Well, he’d at least tried. And in return, you gave him the one thing he’d been wanting for a long time. Your ass. That Christmas night was unforgettable for both of you, and you’d promised him that if he could manage to be a good boy again this year, you’d gladly give him what he wanted once more. But could your boyfriend really pull it off? Would he follow to the rules and earn his “dream ass” by next Christmas, or would he mess things up like always and end up on the naughty list?

❅ word count: ? ❅ smut ❅ modern au, santa-elf roleplaying

No One Should Be Alone on Christmas (Nanami Kento)

Ever since moving to Tokyo for work a month ago, you’d been drowning in loneliness. You hadn’t fully adjusted to the people or the city yet, and worse, you were about to spend Christmas Eve and Christmas morning all alone. At least, that’s what you thought. In an attempt to forget your loneliness, you went to a bar, where you met the most handsome man you’d ever laid eyes on. Other than the fact that he, too, was spending Christmas alone and that he was devastatingly attractive, you knew absolutely nothing about him. If Christmas miracles were real, maybe you could spend this night—and the morning—in Nanami Kento’s arms.

❅ word count: ? ❅ smut, fluff ❅ modern au, one-night stand (?)

It’s the Most Wonderful Time of the Year! Or Not? (Geto Suguru)

Since the start of November, you’d been busy preparing for Christmas. Everything had to be perfect because this year you were going to celebrate it with your boyfriend and his two daughters. While you and the girls were bursting with excitement, your boyfriend didn’t seem to share the same enthusiasm. A day before Christmas, a huge argument broke out between the two of you, and he said something that shattered your holiday spirit: “You’re not my family.” Your excitement was completely crushed, and it looked like you’d be decorating the gingerbread house alone this year. Before it was too late, Suguru needed to realize his mistake and bring back your holiday spirit. And it seemed like he’d need his daughters’ help for this operation.

❅ word count: ? ❅ smut, angst, fluff ❅ modern au, happy ending

Everyone Deserves A Suprise On Christmas (Fushiguro Toji)

Toji Fushiguro wasn’t a good man. He was an alcoholic and a gambling addict, the black sheep of his family. He thought he was beyond redemption—until he met you. For the first time in his life, this man who believed he was unlovable learned what unconditional love truly felt like. And once he realized he wanted to spend the rest of his life with you, it didn’t take him long to put a ring on your finger. For your first Christmas as husband and wife, you had a big surprise planned for him. You knew Toji hated surprises, but this one was going to change both of your lives forever. How would your husband react to the news of the newest member of your family? Maybe surprises weren’t so bad—especially if they were made on Christmas.

❅ word count: ? ❅ smut, fluff ❅ modern au, accidental pregnancy

all rights belong to the @moonlitwitchdaisy do not copy, reproduce, or translate my work.

dividers by @estrelinha-s

[venny19]

Blood Lock

CHAPTER 3

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⚠️WARING⚠️: THIS CHAPTER HAS SOME NOT SAFE CONENT! PLEASE READ WITH YOUR OWN CAUTION!! IF YOU DON'T ENJOY IT! THEN PLEASE SKIP IF IT MAKES YOU UNCOMFORTABLE! YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED EVERYONE!

·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·

The crisp air of the field filled [Name]’s lungs as she stepped out of the changing rooms, adjusting her gym uniform and glancing around. The bright sun overhead cast long shadows on the well-kept track, where other students were already gathering. Luckily, she wasn’t completely alone—Meguru  and Nijiro had managed to end up in the same Physical Education class as her. Their presence was a small comfort in an otherwise unfamiliar crowd.

Meguru stretched dramatically, leaning far to one side and then the other, his bright grin already plastered across his face. “[Name]-chan, bet I can outrun you!”

[Name] smirked, placing her hands on her hips. “Oh, you’re on, Bachira-san. But don’t cry when I leave you in the dust.”

Nijiro, standing beside them, let out a small chuckle. “Don’t get too confident, [Name]-san. Bachira’s got energy for days.”

“Trust me, Yo-kun already calls me a tree-climbing monkey,” [Name] retorted, rolling her shoulders. “I can handle a little running.”

Before their banter could go any further, a sharp whistle cut through the air, commanding attention. The students turned toward the source of the sound as a tall, imposing figure strode onto the track. Noel Noa.

Noa’s presence was as sharp as the whistle he carried. His white hair gleamed under the sunlight, his piercing yellow eyes sweeping over the students with the kind of authority that demanded respect without a word. Clad in the signature tracksuit, he radiated an aura of precision and discipline.

“Line up,” Noa commanded, his voice calm but firm.

The students obeyed, falling into neat rows. [Name] found herself between Meguru, who was still grinning like a fool, and Nijiro, who was standing straighter than she’d ever seen.

Noa began pacing slowly in front of the line, his sharp gaze studying them like pieces on a chessboard. “Physical Education is not just about fitness,” he began, his deep voice carrying easily across the field. “It’s about discipline, consistency, and mental endurance. Out here, you prove your worth—not to me, not to your peers, but to yourselves.”

[Name] swallowed, feeling the weight of his words settle over the group. Noa’s seriousness was a stark contrast to Meguru’s usual lightheartedness, but even he seemed to straighten up under the coach’s gaze.

“We’ll begin with stretches,” Noa continued. “Loosen up your muscles. Then, you’ll run the track. No slacking. I want to see effort from every single one of you.”

The students scattered slightly, finding space to begin their stretches. [Name] bent forward, touching her toes with ease, her natural flexibility making the movement effortless. Beside her, Meguru was already flopping around like a fish, clearly more focused on entertaining himself than stretching properly.

“You’re going to pull something,” Nijiro chided lightly, his Kansai accent slipping into his words as he watched Meguru with mild amusement.

“I’m built different,” Meguru replied, sticking his tongue out.

[Name] couldn’t help but laugh, shaking her head as she moved into a side stretch. Despite the rigorous atmosphere Noa created, her friends made it easier to relax.

Once the stretching was complete, Noa blew his whistle again, signaling the start of their run.

“Four laps,” he announced. “Pace yourselves. If you collapse halfway through, you’ll only embarrass yourselves.”

[Name] took off at a steady jog, her long legs carrying her easily around the track. The rhythm of her breathing synced with the thud of her sneakers against the ground, the wind tugging at her low twin-tails. Beside her, Meguru had already surged ahead, his boundless energy propelling him forward like an overexcited puppy. Nijiro kept a steady pace slightly behind her, his expression focused.

“You’re doing great, [Name]-chan!” Meguru called out over his shoulder, his grin as wide as ever.

“You’re going to burn out at that pace!” she shot back, though she couldn’t help smiling.

Halfway through the first lap, [Name] noticed other students beginning to pass her, their strides long and purposeful. The rhythmic sound of sneakers pounding the track filled the air as [Name] settled into a steady pace. The sun bore down on the runners, but the mild breeze kept the heat manageable. She was running comfortably alongside Meguru and Nijiro, the two boys chatting intermittently as they moved.

Ahead of them, however, was a spectacle [Name] couldn't quite believe. Two runners were neck and neck, moving with such speed that they seemed almost inhuman.

[Name] squinted, focusing on the streaks of color flashing before her eyes. One had long reddish-pink hair that fluttered like a banner behind him, his movements fluid and precise. The other had dark, spiky hair and sharp silver eyes that glinted as he surged forward, his focus unyielding.

“Are those...people?” [Name] asked, slightly breathless, her gaze glued to the two sprinters.

Meguru chuckled, not even remotely winded. “Oh, those two? That’s Chigiri Hyoma and Zantetsu Tsurugi. Fastest guys in Blue Lock. You’ll get used to them.”

“Used to them?” [Name] echoed, incredulous. “They’re moving like they’re not even human!”

Nijiro, keeping pace just behind her, laughed softly. “That’s pretty normal for them. Chigiri’s basically built for speed—he calls himself the ‘chosen one.’ And Zantetsu? Well, he’s got the legs of a sprinter but...uh, let’s just say his brain doesn’t always match his speed.”

Meguru nodded vigorously. “Yeah, Baka Zantetsu might trip over his own thoughts, but when it comes to running, he’s a rocket.”

Up ahead, Hyoma shot a smirk at Zantetsu, his pink eyes glittering with competitive glee. “Face it, Zantetsu, you’re not catching me,” he taunted, his voice smooth and confident.

Zantetsu growled in frustration, his silver eyes narrowing. “D-Don’t underestimate me! A-and—uh—what’s that phrase? The turtle wins the race?”

Hyoma burst into laughter, effortlessly maintaining his blistering pace. “You mean the hare and the tortoise? You’re the one who needs to slow down and think.”

“Tch!” Zantetsu gritted his teeth, his determination only fueling his speed. “Say what you want, but I’m not losing to you!”

Their legs were a blur, propelling them forward with astonishing force. The other students watched in awe, their heads swiveling as the two speedsters zipped past.

Back in the middle of the pack, [Name] was still marveling at the display. “How is that even possible? They’re practically flying!”

“They’ve been like that since day one,” Nijiro explained. “Chigiri’s speed comes from his insane muscle strength and agility. And Zantetsu...well, he’s just stubborn. The guy’s not much for strategy, but he’ll run circles around anyone.”

“Except me!” Meguru piped up, grinning.

[Name] shook her head, a smile tugging at her lips despite herself. The sight of Hyoma and Zantetsu battling it out on the track was nothing short of exhilarating. It was as if their competitive spirits had manifested into raw speed, pushing each other to go faster and faster.

As they reached the halfway point of the track, [Name] noticed Hyoma glance over his shoulder, his pink eyes landing on her briefly before darting back to the track. He raised an eyebrow, as if silently acknowledging her presence, before surging ahead again.

“Did he just look at me?” [Name] asked, blinking in surprise.

Nijiro gave her a knowing smile. “Chigiri doesn’t miss much. If he noticed you, that means you’ve caught his attention.”

“Well, great,” [Name] muttered, shaking her head. “First all the guys in my period and now Chigiri. What’s with all the stares today?”

“Must be your charm, [Name]-chan!” Meguru teased, giving her a playful nudge.

“Or maybe I’m just too slow to escape their notice,” [Name] quipped, picking up her pace slightly.

As they rounded the corner, the competition between Hyoma and Zantetsu continued to burn bright, their determination lighting up the field. [Name] couldn’t help but feel a surge of inspiration watching them, their relentless drive sparking something deep within her.

‘If this is the level I’m surrounded by, then I guess I’d better step up,’ she thought, her steps growing a little more determined as she chased after the echoes of their speed.

·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·

[Name] grabbed her water bottle, her thoughts still lingering on the incredible display of speed she had just witnessed. The urge to talk to the two sprinters grew stronger with every step she took toward them, curiosity and admiration sparking in her eyes.

Hyoma sat on a nearby bench, carefully applying cream to his knee, his long pink hair pulled into a loose braid over one shoulder. His focused expression softened slightly when he noticed her approaching. Beside him, Zantetsu was leaning against a post, furiously wiping sweat off his face with a towel, his cheeks faintly flushed.

“Hey,” [Name] began, her voice carrying a mix of awe and friendliness. “You two were amazing out there. It’s like you’re on another level entirely!”

Hyoma glanced up, his deep pink eyes meeting hers. For a moment, he didn’t say anything, his expression unreadable, but there was a flicker of intrigue in his gaze. Finally, he smiled faintly, his voice calm but tinged with confidence. “Thanks. I guess you’re not used to seeing speed like that, huh?”

“Not even close,” [Name] admitted, laughing lightly. “It was insane. I couldn’t stop watching. Do you guys train for that, or were you just born this way?”

Hyoma smirked, a flicker of his old self-assuredness flashing through. “A little of both. Natural talent gets you far, but discipline takes you farther.” He nodded toward his knee as he continued applying the cream. “Though it doesn’t come without risks. Speed like this takes its toll.”

[Name]’s gaze softened. “Does it still hurt?”

“Not much anymore,” he replied. “It’s more about maintenance now. But thanks for asking.”

Meanwhile, Zantetsu was standing rigid, his silver eyes darting between [Name] and Hyoma. His usual composure seemed to falter, and the blush on his cheeks deepened as he struggled to find the right words. Finally, he cleared his throat, adjusting his fake glasses in an attempt to look cool.

“So, uh…” Zantetsu began, his voice wavering slightly. “Y-you’ve got—uh—legs. Long legs! They’re, uh…really...efficient? Like a cheetah's?”

[Name] froze, blinking in surprise before bursting out into a fit of laughter. The awkwardness of the comment, combined with Zantetsu’s mortified expression, was too much to handle. “Efficient legs? Really?” she teased, clutching her stomach.

Zantetsu’s blush deepened, and he groaned, slapping a hand over his face. “T-that’s not what I meant! Ugh, stupid! I—I mean they look like…like they’d be good for running or something!”

“It’s okay, Zantetsu,” [Name] managed between giggles. “I know what you were trying to say. Thanks for the compliment...I think?”

Hyoma chuckled softly, shaking his head as he finished with his knee. “Smooth as ever, Zantetsu.”

Zantetsu shot him a glare, crossing his arms defensively. “Hey, I was trying to be polite! Not everyone’s a walking ego like you, Chigiri!”

“Uh-huh,” Chigiri replied, his tone dripping with amusement.

[Name] smiled warmly, finding their dynamic both amusing and endearing. “You two really are something else,” she said, taking a sip from her water bottle. “Thanks for letting me watch you guys up close. You’ve definitely set the bar pretty high.”

Hyoma tilted his head slightly, his pink eyes narrowing with curiosity. “And what about you? You’re not bad on the track yourself. You’ve got potential.”

[Name] felt her cheeks flush faintly at the compliment. “Oh, I don’t think I’m anywhere near your level. But...I guess I��ll keep pushing myself to improve.”

Zantetsu, still flustered but determined to redeem himself, straightened up. “If you need a running partner, I’m your guy! I mean—uh—you know, for practice or whatever!”

[Name] laughed again, her bright smile lighting up her face. “I’ll keep that in mind, Zantetsu. Thanks.”

As the whistle blew, signaling the end of the break, Hyoma stood gracefully, brushing his hair over his shoulder. “Guess we’ll see if you can keep up, [Name].”

Zantetsu nodded eagerly, his silver eyes shining. “Yeah, let’s see what you’ve got!”

[Name] grinned, feeling both challenged and encouraged by their words. “Alright, but don’t blame me if I surprise you.”

As the three of them returned to the field, [Name] couldn’t help but feel a spark of excitement. The bar might have been set high, but she was determined to rise to the occasion.

·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·

The line shuffled forward as the students tested their grip strength one by one, the buzzing sound of the electronic hand grip strength tester filling the air each time someone gave it their all. [Name] stood between Nijiro and Meguru, her hands lightly fidgeting in anticipation. Their small bet added an extra layer of tension to the activity, making it feel less like routine classwork and more like a mini-competition.

Nijiro turned to her, a warm grin on his face. “So, how confident are you in your grip strength, [Name]? I don’t want to be the one buying drinks, but, uh, no pressure or anything.”

[Name] laughed softly, adjusting her glasses. “I think I’ll be fine. I mean, I climb trees for fun, so that’s gotta count for something, right?”

Meguru leaned forward from behind her, his yellow eyes gleaming with mischief. “Ohhh, tree-climbing, huh? Guess that makes you like a little squirrel. But I’ve got monkey hands, so good luck beating me, [Name]!”

She shot him a playful glare. “Squirrel? Really? Fine, we’ll see who’s laughing when you’re the one buying drinks.”

As their friendly banter continued, Noa called the next name. “Kento Cho.”

The dark-haired student stepped forward, calm and composed as he approached the device. His movements were measured, almost methodical, as he positioned his hand on the tester. The room quieted slightly as the grip strength meter beeped to life.

With a firm squeeze, Kento’s number shot up, and Noa’s brow raised slightly as he read the result aloud. “61 kilograms. Good.”

Kento nodded quietly, stepping aside with a serene expression, his demeanor as collected as ever. His friend, Nio Kazuma, clapped him on the back, his confident smirk already in place.

“Not bad, Kento,” Nio said, stepping forward. “But watch and learn how it’s done.”

Nio exuded a cocky charm as he grabbed the tester, his slicked-back hair glinting in the sunlight streaming through the gym windows. The room buzzed with anticipation as he gripped the device with a dramatic flair, his goatee twitching as he grinned.

When the tester beeped again, Noa glanced at the screen and announced, “67 kilograms. Impressive.”

Nio pumped his fist, turning to high-five Kento with a triumphant laugh. “Told ya, man! Nobody’s beating me today.”

The trio of [Name], Nijiro, and Meguru’s exchanged wide-eyed looks.

“Whoa,” Nijiro muttered, scratching the back of his neck. “Those two are insane. I don’t even know if I can get close to that.”

Meguru tilted his head, his usual grin faltering slightly. “Yeah, but… I mean, they’re probably, like, gym freaks or something, right? Right?”

[Name] chuckled nervously, watching as the line shortened and the electronic grip strength tester beeped with each attempt. She adjusted her glasses, glancing at Nijiro , who stood just ahead of her. “Guess we’ll find out soon enough who’s buying drinks,” she teased, though a competitive edge crept into her voice.

Nijiro grinned, his Kansai dialect slipping through in his response. “I don’t mind treatin’ you both, but I’m not gonna go down without a fight.”

Behind her, Meguru leaned forward, his usual cheeky grin plastered across his face. “I bet I’ll surprise you both. Don’t let these monkey hands fool you!”

Noa called out the next name, and Nijiro stepped forward with a mix of determination and nerves. “Nanase Nijiro.”

He grabbed the device, his fingers wrapping tightly around the handles. Taking a deep breath, he squeezed hard, his knuckles whitening from the effort. The tester beeped, and Noa checked the number.

“54 kilograms. Not bad,” the coach remarked, jotting it down on his clipboard.

Nijiro turned back to [Name] and Meguru, holding his head high with a sheepish grin. “Well, it’s not gonna break records, but it’s respectable, right?”

“Better than I expected,” [Name] said with a smile. “Alright, my turn!”

As her name was called, she approached the tester with calm confidence. She positioned her hands on the grips, her fingers firm but relaxed. Taking a moment to focus, she applied pressure, her grip tightening until the device beeped.

“56 kilograms,” Noa announced.

[Name] stepped back with a triumphant grin, adjusting her glasses. “Guess tree-climbing and basketball do pay off.”

Meguru pouted dramatically, stepping forward when his name was called. “Oh, come on! Two points ahead? You’re just lucky.”

As he gripped the device, his playful smirk turned into intense concentration. He squeezed with all his might, his arms trembling slightly as the device registered his effort.

“53 kilograms,” Noa said.

Meguru’s shoulders slumped, and he turned back to [Name] and Nijiro with a comical look of defeat. “Nooo! The monkey lost!”

[Name] laughed, shaking her head. “Looks like drinks are on you, Bachira.”

“Fine, fine,” he groaned, though a grin quickly returned to his face. “But don’t expect anything fancy. You’re getting the cheap stuff.”

Their playful banter was interrupted by a familiar voice chiming in. “Cheap stuff, huh?” Zantetsu Tsurugi sauntered over, his silver eyes glinting as he pushed up his fake glasses. “You know, a real gentleman would offer premium drinks. Isn’t that right?”

Meguru raised an eyebrow. “Zantetsu, I don’t think you even know what ‘premium’ means.”

Zantetsu huffed, crossing his arms. “Of course I do! It’s, uh, the opposite of… budget. Right?”

Nijiro chuckled, shaking his head. “Close enough, genius.”

[Name] smiled warmly, appreciating Zantetsu’s attempts to keep up the “smart and cool” act despite his occasional missteps. “Don’t worry, Zantetsu. It’s the thought that counts.”

Zantetsu blushed slightly but quickly regained his composure. “Well, of course! I aim to impress.”

Their conversation continued until Noa called the final name on the list, his voice cutting through the chatter like a sharp whistle. “Barou Shoei.”

The gym fell silent as the tall, muscular Barou stepped forward. His long black hair, streaked with crimson highlights, seemed to gleam under the gym’s fluorescent lights. His red eyes scanned the room with a commanding intensity, and his imposing aura made the other students instinctively step back.

Barou grabbed the grip strength tester without a word, his face stoic and focused. As he squeezed the device, the air seemed to grow heavier with tension. The electronic screen blinked furiously as the numbers climbed higher and higher until the device beeped loudly.

“80 kilograms,” Noa announced, his usually calm tone carrying a hint of surprise.

The class erupted in gasps and murmurs, the sheer power of Barou’s grip leaving everyone stunned.

Nijiro blinked, incredulous. “Eighty? That’s… not human.”

[Name] adjusted her glasses, staring at Barou in awe. “Wow… I didn’t think that was even possible.”

Meguru, still nursing his loss, pouted dramatically. “Great, now I feel even weaker.”

Nio Kazuma, standing nearby, crossed his arms and scoffed. “Tch. Show-off. He probably crushes walnuts for fun.”

Barou turned his crimson gaze toward Nio, a virtuous glare at the corner of his vision. “Jealousy doesn’t suit you, peasant.”

The sharp remark silenced Nio, though his irritated expression remained.

As Barou walked away, his presence lingered, casting an imposing shadow over the rest of the gym. The four of them. [Name], Nijiro, Zantetsu and Meguru exchanged wide-eyed looks before bursting into laughter at the absurdity of the situation.

“Guess he’s the king of grip strength,” [Name] jokes.

Meguru grinned, shaking his head. “Yeah, but he can’t beat me at Uno!”

“True,” Nijiro added with a laugh. “Not even Barou can win at everything.”

The group’s lighthearted chatter carried them through the rest of the class, their bond growing stronger with each moment shared.

·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·

“Seeya around!” [Name] waved at the boys she made friends with all three waving at her with phones in their hands to text when they were available to them as they parted ways. She walked down the hall to her next class, until she realized that her class was a little farther then where she is. Panic begins to rise up as she quickly bolts down the hall.

The hallways echoed with the sound of [Name]'s hurried footsteps as she sprinted toward her AP English class. Her breath came in short bursts, her heart pounding as the reality of being late on her first day hit her hard.

"I can’t be late—I just can’t!" she muttered to herself, panic rising as she struggled to navigate the seemingly endless corridors. The emptiness of the hallways only amplified her anxiety, and when the bell finally rang, her stomach sank.

Skidding to a stop in front of the classroom door, she took a moment to compose herself, smoothing her hair and adjusting her glasses. ‘You can do this, [Name]. Just sneak in quietly.’

She carefully pushed the door open, trying to minimize the creak as she stepped into the room. The murmurs of the class quieted as all eyes turned toward her. She froze mid-step, her eyes meeting the piercing gaze of her AP English teacher, Adam Blake.

“Ah, Miss…?” Blake’s deep, authoritative voice filled the room, his brow furrowing as he leaned back against his desk. His sarcastic tone cut through the tension like a knife. “[Name], is it? So glad you decided to grace us with your presence. How thoughtful of you to join us—albeit fashionably late.”

A wave of heat rushed to [Name]’s face as her classmates snickered softly. She hurried to an empty seat, her head bowed in embarrassment. “S-Sorry,” she mumbled, quickly pulling out her notebook to avoid further attention.

Mr. Blake shook his head, his sharp gray eyes briefly lingering on her before continuing his lecture. “As I was saying before we were so rudely interrupted…”

Despite her best efforts to focus, [Name] couldn’t shake the feeling of being watched. From the corner of her eye, she noticed a group of students whispering and glancing her way, their muffled laughter making her stomach churn.

In the back of the room, three particular figures leaned back in their seats, their gazes fixed on her. Their low murmurs were just out of earshot, but the intensity of their scrutiny was enough to make [Name]’s skin crawl.

She kept her head down, pretending to take notes while internally cursing herself for being late. ‘Great start, [Name]. Just great.’

·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·

As [Name] quietly slipped into her seat, the echoes of her professor’s scolding still reverberated in her ears. Her cheeks burned with humiliation as she opened her notebook, forcing herself to focus on the lecture. But no matter how much she tried to zone in on Mr. Blake's sharp voice, she couldn’t ignore the feeling of eyes lingering on her.

From the far back of the classroom, three figures leaned back in their chairs, their postures casual yet predatory.

Eita Otoya tilted his chair slightly, balancing it on its back legs. His dark, low-lidded eyes roamed over [Name] with a mixture of amusement and interest. He smirked lazily, brushing a hand through his white and green-streaked hair. “Well, well. She’s got that whole ‘shy, flustered new girl’ vibe going for her,” he said, his tone dripping with confidence. “Blushing like that? Bet she’s already imagining someone like me sweeping her off her feet.”

“Someone like you?” Aiki Himizu snickered beside him, flicking his bobbed silver hair out of his face and sticking out his split tongue, the movement snake-like. His gray eyes glinted mischievously. “Please, Otoya. She’s way out of your league. That kind of sweetness needs more… refined touch. I bet she smells like flowers. Or candy.” He leaned forward, resting his chin on his hand. “Wonder if she’d cry if someone messed with her. Always fun seeing the cute ones squirm.”

"Gross," Jin Kiyora muttered, though his teal eyes were firmly fixed on [Name] as well, partially obscured by his dark, wispy bangs. Despite his quiet nature, he had a blunt, matter-of-fact way of speaking. “She’s obviously not used to this place. Easy prey.” His gaze narrowed slightly, analyzing her every movement. “She’s got that nervous habit—fidgeting with her pen. She won’t even see it coming if someone plays her.”

Otoya laughed softly, his smirk widening. “Relax, Kiyora. No one’s gonna do anything too drastic. Just a little fun, right? Besides, girls like her—so timid and flustered—always end up falling for a guy who knows how to take charge.” He glanced over at Himizu. “Right, Aiki?”

Himizu’s grin spread wider, his split tongue flicking out again. “Oh, I know exactly what you mean. She’s got that innocent look, the kind that makes you want to… guide her a little.” He chuckled darkly, his voice barely above a whisper. “Or maybe break her in.”

Kiyora rolled his eyes but didn’t say anything, simply watching [Name] as if studying her every move. He wasn’t as overt as the other two, but his thoughts weren’t much different. To him, [Name]’s flushed face and quiet demeanor screamed vulnerability—a quality he found simultaneously irritating and intriguing.

Meanwhile, [Name] was oblivious to their conversation, too preoccupied with the weight of her own embarrassment. She didn’t notice the way Otoya’s gaze lingered on her face, or how Himizu’s sharp eyes scanned her every movement. Kiyora’s intense stare went unnoticed, her focus glued to her notebook as she scribbled down notes in a desperate attempt to blend in.

The atmosphere around the three boys was charged with a mix of amusement and predation, their low whispers barely audible over the lecture. They were like wolves observing a lamb, circling and plotting with a shared, unspoken understanding.

“Wonder how long it’ll take her to crack,” Otoya said with a smirk. “Maybe I’ll get her to talk to me after class. Bet she’s got a cute laugh.”

Himizu shrugged, the grin never leaving his face. “If you don’t scare her off first. Girls like her are too fun to ruin too fast.”

Kiyora finally spoke again, his voice quiet but firm. “Whatever. Just don’t drag me into it. I don’t do stupid.” But even as he said it, his eyes stayed on [Name], the corners of his lips twitching into a barely noticeable smirk.

The three of them leaned back in their chairs, their quiet conversation fading into the background as the lecture continued. To the rest of the class, they appeared disinterested and detached. But for [Name], unaware of the attention she’d garnered, this was only the beginning of a dangerous game she had unknowingly entered.

The classroom was silent aside from the steady scratching of pens and the occasional flip of a notebook page. Mr. Blake paced at the front, his voice sharp and precise as he explained complex themes and concepts with unwavering authority. Occasionally, he would pause, turning to the students with piercing eyes. "I hope you're all keeping up because I will be checking comprehension," he said sternly, his tone leaving no room for negotiation.

[Name] was fully immersed, her pen flying across the page with swift, fluid movements. Her handwriting was neat yet quick, each note perfectly organized. She had a natural ability to keep pace with the lecture, her basketball-trained reflexes extending even to academics.

Beside her, however, Ikki Niko was struggling. His black hair hung over his eyes, nearly obscuring his vision as he repeatedly scratched out sentences in his notebook. His grip on the pen was tight, his frustration evident as he erased yet another line, leaving faint smudges on the paper. He muttered something under his breath, a quiet mix of frustration and resignation.

[Name] noticed his struggle out of the corner of her eye. Without hesitation, she turned slightly toward him, her voice soft but warm. “Hey,” she whispered, careful not to draw Mr. Blake’s attention. “Do you want to borrow my notes? I’ve got everything written down.”

Ikki froze, his body stiffening as her words registered. He turned his head slightly, just enough for one of his dark eyes to peek through the curtain of hair. For a moment, he seemed unsure how to respond, his introverted nature clashing with the unexpected kindness.

“I… uh…” he stammered, his voice barely audible. The thought of a girl—especially one as kind and pretty as [Name]—offering to help him made his face flush with embarrassment. His fingers fidgeted nervously with the pen, and he glanced away, his voice faltering. “Th-thank you… I mean, I—uh…”

[Name] smiled gently, her expression patient and encouraging. “It’s no problem, really. Here.” She slid her notebook over to him, her hand brushing lightly against his as she did. “Take your time. I’ll catch up later if I need to.”

Ikki hesitated, his hand hovering over the notebook as if touching it would burn him. Finally, he accepted it, his cheeks glowing red. “T-thanks,” he murmured, his voice so quiet it was almost swallowed by the ambient noise of the classroom.

[Name] gave him a reassuring nod and returned to her work, hoping her gesture had helped ease his nerves. Ikki kept his head low, focusing intently on her notes. Despite his embarrassment, he couldn’t help but feel a strange sense of gratitude—and perhaps a bit of awe—that someone had noticed his struggle and cared enough to help.

But while this small moment of kindness unfolded, it did not go unnoticed by the trio at the back of the class.

Eita Otoya’s smirk vanished, replaced by a dark scowl. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his desk as his sharp eyes narrowed on Ikki . “What the hell does he think he’s doing?” he muttered, his voice low but dripping with irritation. “Acting all helpless just to get her attention? Pathetic.”

Aiki Himizu chuckled darkly, his split tongue flicking out as he rested his chin in his hand. “Looks like the little loner scored some points with the princess,” he said, his tone mocking. “Did you see the way she smiled at him? All soft and sweet… ugh, makes me want to puke.” He leaned closer to Otoya, his grin taking on a sinister edge. “Think we should teach him a lesson? Show him what happens when you get too cozy with someone out of your league?”

Jin Kiyora, who had been silent up until now, finally spoke, his voice flat and emotionless. “She’s wasting her time on him.” His teal eyes flicked to [Name], his gaze cold and calculating. “Someone like her… she’s better off being broken in. Kindness like that doesn’t belong here.”

Otoya clenched his jaw, his fingers drumming impatiently on his desk. The idea of [Name] showing kindness—or worse, interest—toward someone else gnawed at him. His possessiveness flared, mixing with a deep-rooted jealousy that he couldn’t quite shake.

“She’s too good for that loser,” Otoya said, his tone bitter. “He doesn’t even know how to talk to her. Bet he’d run crying if we so much as looked at him funny.”

“Maybe we should make her see that,” Himizu added, his grin widening. “Show her who the real men in this room are. She’s too sweet. Too soft. Wouldn’t it be fun to see what happens when that little smile of hers disappears?”

Kiyora’s lips twitched into the faintest hint of a smirk, his voice low and devoid of emotion. “Pain always reveals the truth.”

The three of them exchanged glances, a silent agreement passing between them. Their jealousy and spite had ignited something dark within them, a twisted desire to toy with [Name] and remind her of her place in their world.

Meanwhile, [Name] remained blissfully unaware of the storm brewing at the back of the classroom. She focused on her notes, occasionally glancing at Ikki to make sure he was managing. For her, it was just a small act of kindness. But for the trio watching her, it was the start of something far more dangerous.

·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·

The club room was dimly lit, the faint flicker of a roaring fireplace casting long shadows across the dark wooden floors. The air smelled faintly of smoke and copper, an eerie silence hanging heavy except for the occasional crackle of the flames. The once-pristine room bore the signs of a violent scuffle-overturned chairs, shattered glass, and blood spattered across the floor.

On the ground, Ruka Sanzuku lay crumpled, his breathing labored, and his face contorted in pain. Blood seeped from the fresh wound on his neck, pooling beneath him in a vivid crimson halo. His black hair was disheveled, sticking to his sweat-soaked forehead. He groaned softly, one trembling hand clutching at the puncture marks as if he could will the blood back into his veins.

Across the room stood Don Lorenzo, wiping the corners of his mouth with a golden handkerchief, the metallic glint of his teeth catching the firelight. His lips were stained red, and a wicked grin spread across his face, like a predator reveling in the aftermath of its kill.

"Ahh, you taste even better than I expected, Ruka," Lorenzo sneered, his deep voice dripping with mockery. He spat the last traces of blood onto the floor, the disdain evident in his every move. "But I gotta say... what's this?" He leaned closer, tilting his head to inspect the faint bite marks already etched into Ruka's neck. His grin widened, his amusement bubbling into a cruel laugh. "Someone's already had a taste of you? Tch. You're easier than I thought. Like a fine wine passed around too much-spoiled."

Ruka's eyes, dull with exhaustion, flashed with fury. "Shut... up..." he rasped, his voice barely above a whisper.

Lorenzo chuckled, stepping forward to loom over him. His sharp, golden teeth glinted as he crouched down, grabbing Ruka's face roughly and forcing him to look up. "What's that? You're still trying to talk back? Pathetic. Maybe next time, don't pick a fight with someone you clearly can't handle."

Ruka gritted his teeth, his body trembling as he tried to push Lorenzo's hand away, but his strength was fading fast. The loss of blood left him lightheaded, his vision blurring at the edges.

Lorenzo leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a whisper, yet every word was laced with venom. "You're not even worth finishing off. But your precious cousin... [Name], wasn't it? Now she's an interesting one. I've heard all sorts of things about her. I wonder..." He trailed off, standing up and adjusting his collar. "What she tastes like."

Ruka's heart pounded despite his weakened state. Rage surged through him, momentarily drowning out the pain. "Don't... you... dare…”

Lorenzo merely laughed, turning his back to Ruka and heading for the door. "Save your strength, Sanzuku. You're in no condition to stop me. And honestly, I'd be doing her a favor, showing her what it's like to be with someone real." He paused at the doorway, throwing one last glance over his shoulder, his eyes gleaming with malice. "Try not to bleed out before anyone finds you, yeah?" With that, he strode out, his mocking laughter echoing down the hall.

The door slammed shut, and Ruka was left alone in the room. The crackling of the fire was the only sound, a cruel counterpoint to his labored breaths. His fists clenched against the floor nails digging into the wood as he fought to push himself up.

"Damn it..." he muttered, his voice shaking. His body screamed in protest, every movement a herculean effort, but he refused to stay down. Blood dripped from his neck and onto his hands, staining them red as he struggled onto his knees.

The flames cast an eerie glow on his face, highlighting the mix of pain and fury in his expression. His teeth ground together as he glared at the floor, his mind replaying Lorenzo's words about [Name]. The thought of her in Lorenzo's clutches ignited a fire within him, stronger than any physical agony.

"I'm... not done..." he growled, his voice low and guttural. He pressed a hand to the wall, using it to steady himself as he forced his body upright. His legs wobbled, and for a moment, it seemed as though he would collapse again. But sheer willpower kept him standing.

Ruka's breaths came in sharp, uneven gasps, but his eyes burned with determination. "You think you can just... get away with this?" he muttered to himself, his voice gaining strength with every word. "You don't know who you're messing with.”

The firelight flickered across his face, casting shadows that made his expression even more menacing. Despite his weakened state, there was an unyielding resolve in his stance, a promise that he wouldn't let this humiliation go unanswered.

Ruka staggered toward the fireplace, using every ounce of strength to keep moving. The heat from the flames warmed his chilled skin, a reminder that he was still alive-still fighting. He clenched his fists, blood smearing across his palms, and whispered through gritted teeth:

"You'll pay for this, Lorenzo. And if you so much as touch [Name]..." His voice trailed off, replaced by a low, feral growl. He didn't need to finish the sentence. His intent was clear.

As the fire roared in the hearth, Ruka stood tall despite the blood and pain, his rage burning brighter than ever. This wasn't over. Not by a long shot.

·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·

The corridor buzzed with scattered conversations and the shuffle of students preparing for their next classes, but [Name]'s focus was sharp. After exchanging numbers with Niko, her mood was buoyant, though the lingering sensation of being watched prickled at her senses. She stole glances over her shoulder as she walked briskly toward her AP Government and Politics class, the uneasy feeling gnawing at her.

With a quick stride, she entered the classroom, her shoulders relaxing as she let out a quiet sigh of relief. The room was modest, with neatly arranged desks and a whiteboard at the front already marked with key topics for the lecture. Students filtered in slowly, chatting and shuffling into their seats. [Name] slid into an empty desk near the window, dropping her bag and resting her chin on her hand as she gazed out, trying to shake off the unease.

The hum of conversations dulled in her ears until a familiar, cool voice broke through the noise.

“Is this seat taken?”

Startled, she turned to see who it was, her eyes widening in disbelief. Standing there, tall and self-assured, was Tabito Karasu. His spiky purple hair framed his sharp features, and the subtle smirk tugging at his lips was as recognizable as ever.

“Karasu-senpai?” [Name] blinked, momentarily stunned before a bright smile spread across her face. “I can’t believe it! What are you doing here?”

He chuckled, sliding into the seat beside her without waiting for a reply. “Long time, no see, [Name]. Looks like we’re classmates again—well, for this course anyway.”

[Name] felt a mix of excitement and nostalgia wash over her. Back in high school, Tabito had always been an enigmatic figure. Though his sharp tongue and no-nonsense attitude could be intimidating, he had always treated her with surprising respect, a rare quality considering how dismissive he could be of others.

“Wait, you’re in this class too?” she asked, her eyes lighting up. “I never thought I’d run into you here, Senpai.”

“Neither did I,” he admitted, leaning back in his chair with an air of casual confidence. “But I figured I’d grace this class with my presence.” His smirk widened as he added teasingly, “You should feel honored, Kohai.”

[Name] rolled her eyes, though her smile didn’t falter. “Oh, sure. Honored to hear your endless complaints about how boring the lecture is, right?”

Tabito feigned a hurt expression, placing a hand dramatically over his chest. “Ouch. You wound me, [Name]. I’m here to absorb knowledge like everyone else. What kind of senior would I be if I didn’t set a good example?”

“An honest one,” she quipped, stifling a laugh.

Tabito chuckled, his sharp blue eyes softening slightly as he regarded her. “Still quick with the comebacks, I see. Good. I was worried college might’ve dulled you.”

As the two bantered, the room filled up, and the professor began setting up their materials at the front. The energy shifted slightly, but Tabito’s attention remained fixed on [Name].

“So, how’s college treating you so far?” he asked, his tone surprisingly sincere.

[Name] tilted her head, thinking for a moment. “It’s been… interesting, to say the least. Classes are challenging, but I like them so far. Though,” she added with a small frown, “it’s a little overwhelming at times. It’s such a big campus, and I’ve already gotten lost twice today.”

Tabito raised an eyebrow. “Twice? Seriously?”

“Don’t start,” she warned, pointing a finger at him, though the amused glint in her eyes betrayed her irritation. “It’s only my first day!”

“Relax, Kohai, I’m just messing with you.” His smirk returned, but there was a note of genuine concern in his gaze. “You’ll get the hang of it. You’re smarter than half the people here, anyway.”

“Thanks, I think?” she said, laughing softly.

As [Name] chuckled softly, replying to Tabito’s playful banter, the classroom began to fill up. The noise of chairs scraping against the floor and the low hum of conversations mixed with the faint hum of the air conditioning, signaling the class was about to start.

From the corner of her eye, she saw a familiar figure enter the room—Aleix Ness. His neat brown and magenta hair seemed to catch the light as he confidently strode in, his doe magenta eyes scanning the room. When his gaze landed on her, his expression softened into a smile. He raised a hand in a small wave. [Name] smiled back and waved at him, appreciating the warm acknowledgment. Alexis made his way to a seat near the middle of the room, his posture as relaxed as his attitude, casually chatting with a few other students around him.

Not long after, she noticed another familiar face—Nagi Seishiro. He shuffled in, his snow-white hair lazily tousled as if he’d just rolled out of bed. Seishiro carried an air of utter disinterest, slouching as he walked and dragging his feet. He muttered something to himself, probably lamenting the effort it took to attend a class he clearly didn’t care about. Despite this, he took a seat near the back, propping his chin on his hand as if waiting for the class to be over before it had even begun.

[Name] turned to Tabito and whispered, “Looks like Nagi’s as excited as ever about politics.”

Tabito smirked, glancing briefly at Seishiro. “I give him ten minutes before he’s asleep. He’s got about as much energy for this subject as I do for group projects.”

Before [Name] could reply, her attention was drawn to two unfamiliar figures entering the classroom. The first was a striking young man with shaggy, dark purple hair tipped with lime green. His chiseled jawline was accentuated by a hint of facial hair, and his tall, muscular frame exuded confidence. One look at his heterochromatic eyes—one green, the other purple—made it hard to look away.

“That’s Oliver Aiku,” Tabito muttered, noticing [Name]’s curiosity. “Big name in sports and an even bigger name with the ladies. Don’t let that grin fool you; he’s trouble.”

As if to confirm Tabito’s words, Aiku flashed a charming smile at a girl he passed, making her blush and giggle. He found a seat not too far from [Name] and Tabito, stretching out lazily and looking like he owned the place.

Right behind him came another unfamiliar face. This one had reddish-salmon hair that was slightly fluffy, with side bangs framing his pale red eyes. He carried himself with a cocky swagger, a smug expression plastered across his face.

“Sendo Shūto,” Tabitomurmured with a hint of disdain. “If you thought Aiku was bad, wait till you hear that guy brag about himself for five minutes. He’s got an ego bigger than his skill set.”

Sure enough, as Sendo took a seat near Aiku, [Name] could hear snippets of their conversation.

“Man, politics? I could run for president if I wanted to,” Sendo said, leaning back in his chair. “Not that I’d need to. I’m already top of my game in everything else.”

Aiku chuckled, his deep voice dripping with amusement. “Sure you are, Sendo. Just don’t trip over your own ego on the way out.”

Their laughter carried across the room, drawing a few annoyed looks from other students. [Name] exchanged a glance with Tabito, who rolled his eyes.

“Class is already off to a great start,” he muttered sarcastically.

Just as the room was starting to settle down, another figure entered—a young man with chocolate-brown hair and rosy cheeks that gave him an almost boyish charm. His dark brown eyes were lively, and the piercing on his left ear caught the light as he moved.

“Imamura Yudai,” Tabito said before [Name] could ask. “Professional flirt. Watch out for him; he’s got a mirror and isn’t afraid to use it.”

Yudai took a seat near the back, pulling out a small mirror from his pocket and checking his reflection with a satisfied smirk. Tabito leaned closer to [Name] and whispered, “How much you wanna bet he spends more time flirting than studying?”

[Name] stifled a laugh, glancing back at Imamura. “I don’t think he even knows what studying is.”

Tabito grinned, clearly enjoying their shared commentary.

The door creaked open again, and the room fell silent as the professor entered. Dada Silva, a towering man with a broad build, strode in with an air of authority. His dreadlocks swayed slightly as he moved, and his dark brown eyes scanned the room with an almost predatory sharpness.

“Good morning, class,” he said, his rich Brazilian accent filling the room. There was a hint of sarcasm in his tone as he continued, “Or should I say good luck, since half of you look like you barely know what day it is.”

A few students exchanged awkward glances, and Tabito leaned toward [Name], whispering, “I like him already.”

Dada placed a thick binder on his desk and turned to face the class, crossing his arms. “AP Government and Politics. Fancy title, isn’t it? Too bad most of you wouldn’t last five minutes in a real debate. But that’s why I’m here—to drag you out of your mediocrity.”

[Name] felt a shiver run down her spine at his intense gaze, but she couldn’t help but feel intrigued. Dada Silva had a commanding presence that demanded attention, even if his approach was far from gentle.

“First things first,” Dada said, his voice sharp and clear. “This isn’t high school anymore. If you’re here to slack off, leave now. I don’t have time to babysit.” His eyes flicked to Nagi, who looked half-asleep already, and Aiku, who was casually leaning back in his chair.

“Especially you,” he added, pointing at Seishiro, whose eyes widened slightly in surprise. “Sit up, pay attention, or find another class.”

[Name] couldn’t help but glance at Tabito, who was barely containing his laughter. “This is going to be interesting,” he murmured.

As Dada began the lecture, his passion for the subject became evident, even as his sarcastic remarks kept everyone on edge. [Name] found herself drawn in, despite the intensity, and she could tell Karasu was just as captivated—even if he wouldn’t admit it.

The professor called the class to attention, and the students began quieting down, shuffling their notebooks and pens. As the lecture started, Tabito leaned slightly closer to [Name], lowering his voice to a whisper.

“You better not fall asleep during this. I’m keeping an eye on you.”

“Me?” she whispered back, feigning innocence. “I’m a model student, Senpai. Maybe you should worry about yourself.”

He chuckled, leaning back in his chair but keeping his attention on her for just a moment longer. Despite his confident exterior, there was a hint of warmth in his demeanor when he was around her—a subtle but noticeable shift that set her apart from the others he interacted with.

Throughout the lecture, [Name] found herself feeling oddly comforted by Tabito’s presence. It was nice to have a familiar face in the sea of strangers, someone who wasn’t just polite or cordial but genuinely engaging.

Meanwhile, Tabito couldn’t help but steal glances at her as she diligently took notes, her focus unwavering. There was something about her—the way her mismatched eyes lit up with interest, the faint smile that played on her lips as she wrote—that made her stand out in a way he couldn’t quite explain.

As the lecture progressed, Tabito leaned over again, whispering, “Hey, [Name]. After this, let me show you a shortcut to the dining hall. I know you’re going to get lost again.”

She looked at him, her brows furrowing playfully. “Are you calling me directionally challenged?”

“I’m just stating facts,” he replied with a grin.

Despite her mock glare, [Name] nodded. “Fine. But only because I don’t want to embarrass myself again.”

The two exchanged a brief, knowing smile before turning back to the lecture. The atmosphere around them felt lighter, more comfortable. Even as the class carried on, their conversation lingered in the air—a quiet connection that neither of them could ignore.

As the lecture progressed, Mr. Silva's booming voice filled the classroom with a mix of information and sharp commentary. The topic was the role of political systems in shaping governance—a dry subject for some but delivered with Dada Silva's signature flair.

Midway through, Mr. Silva clapped his hands together, making several students jump. “Alright, enough of me talking. It’s time for you to think for yourselves. Group assignment time.”

Groans filled the room, but Dada ignored them. “Pair up with someone next to you. You’ll work together to analyze a political system of your choice and present your findings next week. I’ll be grading your insight, not your ability to copy-paste from Wikipedia. So, show me something worth my time.”

Tabito leaned back in his chair, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips as he turned to [Name]. “Well, I guess it’s you and me, Kohai. Try to keep up, okay?”

[Name] rolled her eyes, matching his smirk with one of her own. “Oh, don’t worry, Senpai. I won’t carry too hard.”

The two set to work, quickly deciding on their topic: the differences between parliamentary and presidential systems. Tabito took the lead in laying out the structure of their analysis, his sharp mind shining through as he effortlessly broke down the complexities. [Name], equally quick and organized, filled in gaps, added her own insights, and typed everything up with precision.

Within 30 minutes, their assignment was done—a polished, well-organized document ready for submission.

“Done already?” [Name] asked, leaning back and stretching her arms. “That was faster than I expected.”

Tabito chuckled. “What can I say? When you’ve got brains and charm on your team, anything’s possible.”

[Name] laughed softly, resting her chin on her hand. “You mean when you’ve got me on your team?”

Tabito gasped mockingly. “Wow, Kohai, that confidence. You’ve been hanging out with me too much.”

The two fell into easy conversation, discussing everything from their old high school days to Tabito’s recent escapades at university. His sharp wit and her quick comebacks made the time fly by, their laughter breaking through the otherwise quiet classroom.

As [Name] leaned forward to adjust her notes, she noticed something out of the corner of her eye. Across the room, Oliver Aiku was leaning back in his chair, one arm draped lazily over the backrest, his sharp gaze fixed directly on her. When their eyes met, he didn’t look away. Instead, he smirked and gave her a slow, deliberate wink.

[Name] felt her cheeks flush slightly and quickly looked down at her notebook, pretending to focus on something else.

Tabito noticed her sudden change in demeanor and followed her line of sight. He caught sight of Aiku, who was now casually spinning a pen in his hand, his gaze never leaving [Name].

“Seriously?” Tabito muttered under his breath, rolling his eyes. “That guy thinks he’s God’s gift to women.”

Before [Name] could respond, she caught sight of Sendo Shūto, who was sitting next to Aiku. His reddish-salmon hair framed his face as he glanced over at her and Tabito. Unlike Aiku’s bold wink, Sendo offered her a friendly, almost teasing smirk, as if to say I see you.

[Name] felt a mix of awkwardness and amusement. “Uh, Senpai, I think we’re being… watched.”

Tabito leaned in slightly, lowering his voice. “Watched? Try evaluated. Aiku’s probably deciding what lame pickup line to use, and Sendo’s wondering if he can out-charm him. Honestly, Kohai, you’re better off ignoring them both.”

[Name] laughed softly, glancing briefly at the two again. Aiku’s smirk had turned into a full grin, while Sendo was now whispering something to him, likely some joke at their expense.

“Noted,” she said, turning her attention back to Tabito. “Anyway, let’s just focus on us. I don’t need to deal with their nonsense right now.”

Tabito smirked, leaning back in his chair. “Good call. Let them stew in their mediocrity.”

Despite her best efforts to ignore them, [Name] couldn’t shake the feeling of Aiku’s and Sendo’s eyes on her throughout the remainder of their free time.

·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·

The bell signaling the end of class rang through the halls, and the shuffle of students packing their bags filled the air. [Name] stretched her arms and turned to Tabito, who stood from his chair with his usual effortless grace.

"Well, Kohai," he said, slinging his bag over his shoulder. "Good teamwork today. Don’t let the mediocrity around here rub off on you."

[Name] chuckled. “I’ll try my best, Senpai. See you around.”

Tabito smirked and gave her a quick wave before heading down the opposite corridor. [Name] watched him disappear into the crowd before turning to make her way to the gym, her excitement building.

Finally, basketball time.

She entered the indoor gym, its polished wooden floors gleaming under the bright lights. The faint echo of sneakers squeaking and basketballs bouncing created a familiar, comforting ambiance. Other students were already there, stretching or casually shooting hoops.

[Name] headed straight to the locker room, where the basketball club’s uniforms were stored. The uniforms were sleek, designed in the signature Blue Lock black and blue color scheme, with subtle accents of white. [Name] changed quickly, securing her hair into low twin-tails tied with red ribbons, her usual style. She adjusted her red glasses and took a deep breath before stepping back onto the court.

The coach, a sharp-eyed woman with a whistle around her neck, called everyone to gather in the center. “Alright, listen up! Today’s practice is all about endurance and precision. I want to see hustle out there, understood?”

A chorus of “Yes, Coach!” echoed through the gym.

The warm-up began with jogging laps around the court. [Name], with her tall, slender frame, moved effortlessly, keeping a steady pace while her mind focused on the game ahead. After a few laps, they transitioned into dribbling drills and practice plays.

When it came time for scrimmage practice, [Name] truly shined. Positioned near the paint, she moved like lightning, her speed and agility catching even the seasoned players off guard.

The ball was passed to her, and she instantly pivoted, dodging her defender. With a powerful leap, she soared into the air, her long limbs stretching as she dunked the ball with incredible force. The slam echoed through the gym, followed by stunned silence.

Then, cheers erupted.

“Whoa! Did you see that?”

“She just flew!”

“Damn, [Name]!”

[Name] landed gracefully, brushing a stray strand of hair from her face. A shy smile tugged at her lips as she adjusted her glasses. “Just doing my best,” she said, a little embarrassed by the attention.

The coach blew her whistle, a small grin breaking her otherwise stern demeanor. “Impressive, Sanzuku. Keep that up, and you’ll be the star of this team in no time.”

[Name] nodded, her confidence growing with each play. The practice continued, and her jumping ability and precision shots became the highlight of the session. Whether it was fast breaks, defensive rebounds, or dunks, [Name] performed with a level of skill and energy that left her teammates in awe.

As the practice wound down, one of her teammates, a girl with short blonde hair and a competitive edge, approached her. “Hey, [Name], you’ve got some insane hops. What’s your secret?”

[Name] laughed softly, wiping sweat from her brow. “Honestly? A lot of practice. And maybe a bit of inspiration from Michael Jordan.”

The blonde girl blinked. “Wait, Michael Jordan? You mean the famous basketball player?”

[Name] grinned. “Yep. Michael Jordan taught me everything I know.”

The girl burst into laughter, slapping [Name] on the back. “You’re something else, [Name].”

As the session ended, [Name] left the gym feeling exhilarated, her spirits high. Basketball had always been her refuge, and days like these reminded her why she loved the game so much. Little did she know, however, that even in this sanctuary, watchful eyes were lingering on her every move.

The coach then blew the whistle To get packed up and end the day but someone had to stay behind and clean up the mess, of course [Name] volunteers as tribute to help set back the pieces and equipment back in the closet. 

The court was quiet now, the lively echoes of practice replaced by the soft hum of the overhead lights. [Name] hummed a light tune to herself as she gathered the scattered basketballs. She rolled them into the large metal basket, her movements fluid despite the lingering fatigue from practice.

“Almost done,” she murmured, brushing her hands on her shorts.

The soft mats were next, so she headed toward the storage closet at the back of the gym. Stacking them neatly, she felt a small sense of accomplishment. Cleaning up was therapeutic in a way—she enjoyed the peace it brought after the day’s chaos.

Just as she was about to move the last mat, the sound of a door creaking open pierced the silence. The back exit.

[Name] froze, her heart skipping a beat. She whipped her head toward the sound, her eyes scanning the now dimly lit gym. The doors swung lazily, as if moved by an invisible hand.

She exhaled, trying to calm herself. “Must’ve been the wind,” she muttered, though her voice wavered.

She turned back to her task, determined to shake off the unease creeping into her thoughts. But then, a basketball rolled across the floor.

It came out of nowhere, bumping softly against her foot.

[Name]’s breath hitched. Her head shot up, her eyes darting around the empty gym. “Okay, whoever’s out there, this isn’t funny!” she called, her voice firmer this time, though the tremor in it betrayed her nerves.

Silence.

Her irritation flared. “Seriously, cut it out!”

[Name] stepped toward the wooden door leading to the closet. Her hand hovered over the handle for a moment before she gritted her teeth and yanked it open.

The door swung wide, and before she could register what was happening, something grabbed her wrist in an iron grip and pulled her forward. She stumbled, a startled gasp escaping her lips.

Her back slammed against the wall with a dull thud, and a sharp jolt of pain spread across her spine. Her red glasses shifted slightly on her face as her wide eyes darted up to meet whoever—or whatever—was holding her.

Strong hands gripped her wrists, pinning them against the wood.

Her breathing quickened, panic threatening to take over as she tried to process what was happening. “H-Hey!” she stammered, struggling against the hold. “Let go of me!”

The figure didn’t speak right away, their presence overwhelming in the confined space. Their breath was warm and steady, contrasting sharply with [Name]’s rapid, shallow gasps.

She swallowed hard, her heartbeat pounding in her ears. “Who are you? What do you want?” she demanded, her voice rising with equal parts fear and defiance.

The dim gymnasium lights flickered slightly, casting eerie shadows along the walls as [Name] pressed herself against the wooden panels of the storage closet. The basketball that had bounced earlier now lay motionless, as if mocking her rising fear. She swallowed hard, her body trembling as the strong hands pinned her firmly against the wooden surface.

Her wrists throbbed under the grip, the pressure unrelenting. She strained to look up, her breath hitching when her gaze locked onto her assailant.

The blonde-haired figure leered down at her, his amber eyes glinting with a predatory hunger. His sharp canines peeked through a sly grin, his entire demeanor radiating arrogance and danger.

"You!" [Name] gasped, recognition dawning on her. The memory of the blonde-haired boy watching her from afar earlier during the day resurfaced. "You were-!"

"Me?" he interrupted with a mocking chuckle, his voice low and dripping with amusement only heightened the sinister edge to his words. "Oh, I'm so glad you noticed me, Bitch!”

"Let go of me!" [Name] snapped, struggling against his iron grip. "What the hell do you want?!"

His smirk deepened, his sharp teeth glinting under the faint light. "What do I want? Isn't it obvious, stupid girl?" he sneered, leaning in closer, his breath hot against her flushed face. "I want you."

Her eyes widened in shock and horror. She twisted against him, trying to create space between their bodies, but he was immovable, his strength far surpassing hers.

"No! Get away from me!" she yelled, her voice echoing in the empty gym.

His laughter filled the space, dark and menacing. "Oh, you won't let me?" he mocked, his amber eyes narrowing. "You don't have a damn clue who you're speaking to."

With one hand, Raichi slammed her wrists above her head, securing them with ease. His free hand moved to toy with a strand of her hair, lifting it to his nose as if savoring her scent.

"Ahhh," he breathed deeply, a shiver of pleasure running through him. "You smell like...flowers. Sweet and delicate.”

[Name] recoiled, disgust flashing across her features as she continued to writhe against him. "Get off of me, you creep!"

Her defiance only seemed to amuse him further. Raichi's smile widened, his grip tightening as he forced her chin up with his fingers, his strength making her attempts to turn away futile. His knee pressed between her legs, pinning her firmly against the wall.

"You're even prettier up close," he mused, his eyes dancing with wicked delight. "Such a waste to leave something like you untouched.”

"Knock it off!" [Name] spat, her voice filled with equal parts anger and fear.

Raichi's hand moved to her throat, his fingers tightening just enough to make her gasp for air. He tilted his head, his amber eyes glowing with a predatory hunger. "Hush, now," he cooed mockingly. "Don't ruin this for me."

[Name] froze as she felt his hot breath against her neck. A shudder ran down her spine when his tongue slid across her skin, the sensation rough and invasive.

"Stop it!" she shouted, trying to kick him, but her strength was no match for his unyielding hold.

Raichi chuckled, the sound low and dark. "You're making this so much more fun," he whispered, his voice laced with sadistic glee.

Then, without warning, a sharp, searing pain exploded in her neck. [Name]'s eyes widened, a strangled cry escaping her lips.

"Ahhh," Raichi groaned against her neck, the sound disturbingly pleased as he drank deeply. His teeth pierced her skin effortlessly, the sensation of her blood leaving her body making her head spin.

"No..." [Name] whimpered, her voice weak as her strength drained away.Her legs buckled, and if it weren't for Raichi holding her up, she would've collapsed to the ground.

He drank with abandon, his grip on her unrelenting as he took more than he should. [Name]'s vision blurred, the room spinning as her body betrayed her.

Finally, Raichi pulled back, licking the blood off his lips with a satisfied smirk. He released her, letting her slide down the wall like a broken doll.

[Name] crumpled to the floor, clutching her neck as tears streamed down her face. Her breathing was ragged, her body trembling uncontrollably.

Raichi crouched down, his amber eyes locking onto hers. "Heh. You taste even better than you look," he taunted, wiping a stray trail of blood from his chin with the back of his hand. "But don't worry-I'll be back for more."

He stood up, his towering frame casting a shadow over her shivering form. With a final laugh, he turned and walked away, his footsteps echoing through the empty gym.

[Name] sat there, her body wracked with sobs as she clutched her neck, the sting of his bite still fresh. The room felt colder now, her mind racing to comprehend the nightmare she had just endured.

"What...just happened?" she whispered, her voice breaking as she hugged her knees to her chest. The once-safe sanctuary of the gym now felt like a trap, and for the first time, [Name] was truly afraid.

·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·

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𝙸𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚝𝚊𝚋𝚕𝚎 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚜𝚎 𝚝𝚘𝚙𝚒𝚌𝚜, 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝙸'𝚖 𝚜𝚘𝚛𝚛𝚢, 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚛𝚢 𝚒𝚜𝚗'𝚝 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚢𝚘𝚞. 𝙰𝚗𝚍 𝚛𝚎𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚝𝚊𝚔𝚎𝚜 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚌𝚎 𝚒𝚗 𝚊 𝙲𝙾𝙻𝙻𝙴𝙶𝙴 𝙲𝙰𝙼𝙿𝚄𝚂!! 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚊𝚌𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚜 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝙰𝙱𝙾𝚅𝙴 𝟷𝟾 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚘𝚕𝚍𝚎𝚛!!!

·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·

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© 2024 Ｖｅｌｖｅｔｅｅｎ 平和な目覚め— do not repost, copy, translate, modify, etc my work on any platform without my permission!

[aetherose]

@abyssmalice sent: "Miss Elysia." Freyja—or Tonia, as she would have been called in a different era—greets and smiles at her guest, hands clapping delightedly. Her cheerfulness makes for a stark contrast with the quiet gloom of the Abyss though. "Saw more of Teyvat, have you? Was it more exciting? Interesting? I would love to hear more of your thoughts, if you feel inclined to share them." A pause, as though something came to her. "Oh, perhaps I should make some tea before all that... Some cookies would be nice too, but I didn't prepare any, hmmm..."

Unprompted

Elysia smiles at seeing Freyja, waving with one hand whilst holding a bag in the other as she strides into the Abyss, her own bright demeanor surely standing out in face of the dreary place the two women were meeting in. "Hi again~" She states just as she comes to a halt a few feet in front of Freyja. "I have seen more Teyvat since we've last met. But you're right, it would be nice to discuss it in more detail over tea."

Elysia then raises the bag to show it to Freyja, grinning a bit wider. "Since we last met, I decided I'd bring you some things this time~ I've got some snacks; including cookies, hehe; some books, some souvenirs, and a few other things. I thought you'd like it, since it doesn't seem like you have all that much down here." Plus, Elysia was already collecting them anyway as she traveled around Teyvat.

[moe-broey]

My homunculus

Hashtag my homunculus

[foldingfittedsheets]

Every sales job I’ve worked has that one item. The white whale. The biggest ticket you can sell. The sale you brag about when you’re chatting with other industry people.

When I sold mattresses it was a split king adjustable base. That’s two twin extra long mattresses next to each other to make a king, but each side can move independently. They’re insanely expensive and honestly kind’ve impractical but it was the biggest ticket thing to sell.

When I sold sex toys though our white whale was the 20lb ass. It was a female pelvis, a cut out from the waist to the tops of the thighs. It was hyper realistic material and cost about $500. I definitely had bigger tickets but not in one item typically.

In my time at the sex shop, I sold three. Each time was completely different in terms of how the guy acted about buying it. The first man was a little embarrassed and shy about it. I was professional and supportive as I rang it up. Once I handed him the receipt he looked at the box. Then he looked at me.

If you’ve ever wondered how big a box has to be to fit a 20lb ass let me just tell you: it’s pretty damn big. It’s an uncomfortably large armful of box and every side has a picture of the sex toy inside on it. It’s not subtle.

“Could I get a bag….?”

There was no bag that existed that could possibly contain all that ass. “Hang on,” I told him.

I got scissors and tape and covered the box in cut up black bags. Looking relieved he picked up his purchase and left.

The next man to buy one carried it proudly to the counter; self assured and not embarrassed in the least. When I said I didn’t have a bag, but I could wrap it for him he gave a hearty shrug and hefted it into his arms, marching out the door with the butt on full display.

The last man to get one was just kind’ve an odd guy. Not creepy, but eccentric. We got along great, and as I rang him up I said, “Well one guy wanted his taped over, and one guy carried it out. What would you prefer?”

“There’s no bags?”

“No store bags. I think our jumbo trash bags in the back might fit it….?” It seemed rude to suggest putting a $500 item into a trash bag, but he wasn’t bothered.

He considered this then said, “Bring me the trash bag.”

When I delivered it to him he still managed to surprise me. Instead of shoving the huge box into it he opened the box. He took out his new $500 sex toy, and all the little things it came with, tipping them unceremoniously into the trash bag.

“There! Now I don’t have to deal with the box later!”

I was slightly stunned but agreed that I could easily deal with the trash. Then in a move I still think about with delight he flung the trash bag over his shoulder like a Santa with a sack full of ass and sauntered out the door.

If this or my other escapades made you laugh you could pop a tip into my Ko-fi! For more like this check my tag "ffs foibles".

[caffeinewitchcraft]

AITA for telling my boyfriend’s coworkers that he’s lying about his body count?

I (35f) have been dating my boyfriend (32m) for four years. It’s honestly been the best relationship until last Friday when it all went down. I feel like I’m in the right, but now I’m wondering if I overstepped.

For context, my boyfriend has been a professional Slasher for about eight months now. He’s always really admired Cryptids, Monsters, and Nightmares so when his application was finally accepted, he was over the moon even if he was starting in a lower position than he initially applied for.

At his company, being a Slasher requires a lot of travel which we knew when he accepted the position. The end goal is for him to get a promotion to at least regional Nightmare (he wants Cryptid, but that position doesn’t have a lot of turnover) but to get that he needs to be in role for at least 12 months OR meet his goals for three months in a row. Once he promotes, we plan to relocate to his new region and “start talking about our future.”

(Side note: no this isn’t about him not popping the question yet. We are both in agreement that marriage comes after financial stability. I run a small business doing scare consults and, while it’s been growing, I wouldn’t call it stable yet. So neither of us are ready.)

I told him it’s completely normal for it to take a whole year before he’s ready to promote and he really should focus on adjusting to the company before thinking about next steps. I used to work for a competitor (I’ve been retired for five years now) and I know it can be hard to go from only taking the occasional human life to having to take over half a dozen a week. It’s not a light workload, no matter how easy it looks in the movies. One of my best friends Slashes part-time and she still only averages about five lives a week despite having done it for years. Especially these days, it can be really hard to meet quota. Humans are getting smarter, no matter what the Council wants us to think.

Anyway, boyfriend didn’t do as well as he thought he would in his first couple months. Totally understandable, of course, which I told him. I suggested he ask his boss if he could be put on a couple team assignments or even a duo until he got the hang of it. That was our first real fight. He thought I was doubting his ability to kill. He brought up how I told him it would take over a year to promote and how I said that this job wasn’t for everyone (His first assignment ended with a 0% kill rate, but that’s a different story). He said it felt like I didn’t believe in him and he said that if that was the case then maybe we shouldn’t be thinking about marriage so soon.

It got pretty messy after that. I felt like he was forgetting that I’d worked in the same field and, arguably, had a lot more experience (not to brag, but I averaged a 98% kill rate). Also, four years is NOT too soon to talk about marriage. He said I didn’t understand how he needed to focus on his career right now. I told him I thought he was taking Slasher too lightly just because it wasn’t Cryptid. He accused me of not respecting him and then things spiraled from there.

We both said a lot of things we didn’t mean and I’m embarrassed that it turned into a bit of a fang measuring contest. I ended up sleeping under the bed for a few nights until he coaxed me out to apologize.

It was a rough patch, but we talked it out. We agreed that, going forward, I wouldn’t offer advice unless he asked and he would try not to take so much of his frustration home with him. He took a weekend off and we went on a recreational haunting trip in the Montana woods.

Things did get better after that. I tried not to give him consults every time he came back from a work trip. He started bringing me souvenirs like roses and cursed puzzle boxes his work said he could have. It became easier just to hang out with each other and it felt like we were back to normal.

But then, four months ago, he came home super pissed because his boss put him on a PIP. (A performance improvement plan.) Apparently, boyfriend had not been doing better at work, he had just stopped telling me when he had a bad assignment. I saw the paperwork he got (he left it in the dungeon under the house, I didn’t go through his stuff) and he’s been missing quota by a LOT. As a junior Slasher, he was supposed to be executing at least 6 people a week, but he’d been lucky to be maiming half that.

Obviously, I had to talk to him about that. We rent our house and, even though I could have afforded the rent on my own, I didn’t want to jeopardize the investments I was making in my business (I was in the process of hiring an assistant to handle my scheduling). Plus, we agreed from day one that we would be 50/50 on rent and I would take care of the rest of the bills because I earned more. I felt that if his financial situation was in jeopardy, he needed to talk to me about it.

I tried to approach him a bit differently than last time. I asked him if there was anything I could do to help. I told him about my slasher friend and how maybe she could give him advice if he didn’t want any from me. But he said he needed to figure stuff out on his own and that if he couldn’t get himself off the PIP then he would go back to work for his dad’s janitorial company.

I let it go. I was worried but I didn’t want to fight again just after patching the holes from the last blow out. It really bugged me that he thought I didn’t believe in him so I committed to giving him the benefit of the doubt. I said okay and asked him if he needed me to meal prep for both of us that week. He offered me grocery money, but I said it was fine since I’d had to deal with a lot of humans breaking in lately and I still had some leftover in the dungeon.

Fast forward a month. Boyfriend got off the PIP super fast. He worked his way off of it over Spring Break and started taking on a lot of extra assignments. In just four weeks he went to Miami Beach twice, New York City twice, and to three separate summer camps. I missed him and it was hard not having him around but I remembered how he said he needed to focus on his career and I tried not to nag.

It was hard not to nag though. With him gone, all the housework fell on me. We rent a 19th century manor, and its upkeep really does need two people. Doing all the chores plus running my business started to really drain me. Even when he was home, he forgot to banish the ghosts (my chore is to kill all invading humans, and his chore is to banish their ghosts) and he never took out the trash. I think he cleaned blood off the dungeon walls once, but then I had to basically redo it because he missed a lot of spots.

But still, I didn’t say anything because he was doing really well at work and I didn’t want to ruin that for him. Even when Humans started breaking in every week, I didn’t complain even though it interrupted my work day.

Last month though, I did ask him if we could move somewhere that needed less maintenance. There were just way too many Humans breaking in and I didn’t have the time to deal with them anymore. Even if I don’t do all the theatrics I used to as a Cryptid, killing humans through fear still takes a lot of time. He asked me if I didn’t appreciate the free meat, and I said I would appreciate it more if I wasn’t the only butchering it.

He said he didn’t want to move because he was really close to getting promoted to regional Nightmare and he didn’t want to take time off work to move. I was so surprised that I couldn’t hide how surprised I was. He saw and got offended. He asked if I still didn’t believe in him. I said that I did, but it was a huge jump to go from an 8% kill rate to getting promoted.

He got even more mad at me for bringing up his stats and he said that he had nearly 80% kill rate since being put on the PIP. I asked how many humans a week he was slashing and he told me I was being too nosy and that was proof that I didn’t believe in him.

I asked him if we could at least hire a ghoul then to keep the humans out of my office and he said he didn’t want to waste the money that we should be saving for our new house. I asked him what he wanted me to do then? I had to take phone calls for my consulting business and it was really hard to stalk humans all around the house while trying to sound like a professional to my clients.

He asked me to be patient for one more month. He said if he met quota for one more month, his boss said he’d get promoted. So I said fine and let it go.

Fast forward to now, almost a full month later.

Last Friday, I attended the Eldritch Conference. For those not in the scare field, the Eldritch Conference is the most prestigious event in our industry. It’s invitation only and is a chance to network with all the big players in the field. Mothman, the Jersey Devil, Bloody Mary and Bigfoot all spoke this year and both my former company, Grudge Industries, and my boyfriend’s current company, Forgotten Summer Solutions, were invited.

I was surprised to get an invite as a solo contributor to the field. However, my consulting firm has really been doing well and I did land a seasonal contract with the Yeti Co-op which I guess is how they heard about me. Plus, I’ve been a speaker before so I think the organizers knew I would behave myself.

I was planning on telling my boyfriend that I was going, but he was out of town on a co-ed sleepover assignment. He usually doesn’t have his phone on during his assignments, so I didn’t bother calling him. I just figured it’d be nice if we ran into each other at the conference if he made it back in time.

Which brings me to what actually happened (apologies for the long post).

So everything went great for my part of the day. I got to network with a lot of individual businesses and even got to reconnect with Blood Mary who I knew back in my Cryptid days. I told her I was dating a Slasher from Forgotten Summer Solutions and invited her to come with me to check out their booth. I thought it would be fun to grab dinner with her after since I assumed if my boyfriend was there, he’d be going out with coworkers which he often does. Plus, I admit, I was showing off a little. I don’t often get the chance to brag about my Cryptid days.

She agreed and we went over to see if my boyfriend was there.

I introduced myself to the people manning the booth. My boyfriend wasn’t there, but a few Slashers recognized my name and greeted me. They were definitely in awe of Bloody Mary (she came in full uniform) and invited us to look at their displays. They had portfolios for each Slasher on the desk as a sort of preview of what their services looked like.

While Bloody Mary looked through the portfolios, I chatted with my boyfriend’s coworkers. They said they were thrilled to work with him and that, even though he had a really rough start, it was impressive how quickly he started meeting his goals. Something about how they talked about his work kind of didn’t make sense. They were talking like he was killing a dozen humans a week, but he’d told me that he was at 80% on his assignments which typically only offer about ten humans each.

I asked them about it and they said that he’d been Slashing during After Hours which is a new goal supplement program his company launched a few months ago. Basically, anyone can sign up for After Hours and the company counts human kills done in uniform as part of their quota. I asked them if this was available to them while they were on assignment and they said no, it had to be done when they had down time. I asked them how my boyfriend was part of that when he was traveling all the time and they looked confused. One of them said that my boyfriend is still getting one assignment per week and is then supplementing his kill rate with After Hours.

At that point, I was even more confused. It sounded like my boyfriend had been lying to me then, because he told me that he was getting at least two assignments a week. If he was only getting one, then where was he going when he said he was traveling?

Bloody Mary interrupted before I could say anything and asked how their Slashers did their kills. They said that every Slasher at their company is required to use a standard issue weapon (like a machete or axe) for their kills to count. They said their company doesn’t count accidents as part of their quota (like falling or heart attacks).

Bloody Mary pulled me aside and showed me the portfolio she was holding. She said that she was going to give me a chance to explain without them overhearing and showed me the book. She said that a bunch of kills in it looked Cryptid kills. And she said, specifically, it looked like the kills I made when I was a Cryptid. I took the book from her and flipped through it and she was right, they really did look like Cryptid kills. Worse, I recognized a few of the Humans from the past few weeks. They were actually my kills!

Kill stealing is a major taboo in our industry.

I told her I didn’t know anything about this. She looked really relieved at that and said that even though I wasn’t a Cryptid anymore, it would look really bad for me if I was caught helping a Slasher cheat at their job. It could affect my business which she’d only heard good things about.

I’m embarrassed to say that I tried to defend him. He’s new to our industry so I thought it might be a mistake. He might not be trying to cheat, this could be a misunderstanding.

She said she didn’t think so because a mistake would be one or two of my kills mixed in with his, not the entire book.

I counted up how many photos were in the book and, all told, of the 146 kills, at least 100 were mine. I couldn’t really say it was a mistake at that point and I was just staring at his portfolio like an idiot. Bloody Mary asked me what I was going to do because, mistake or not, this looked really bad and could damage my reputation if it got out.

At that moment, another man walked up to booth and asked us if there was a problem. I knew that if I said anything, I would be jeopardizing my boyfriend’s job, but if I didn’t say something, I was jeopardizing my business.

I told my boyfriend’s coworkers that he was lying about his body count. I said I didn’t think that they knew he was doing it, but over half of the kills in his portfolio weren’t his and I suggested they remove it from their display before another Cryptid came by and realized it.

The other man thanked me for bringing this to his attention and asked how we knew. Bloody Mary said that she knew another Cryptid’s kills and I had to tell them that I was that Cryptid, though I was retired now. He asked me if I knew my boyfriend was doing this, and I told him no.

I told him I really didn’t want to get my boyfriend in trouble and suggested that maybe he didn’t know those kills didn’t belong to him because they happened in our house. I was grasping at straws and Blood Mary even looked sad for me. His coworkers looked skeptical but tentatively agreed. The man – who turned out to my boyfriend’s boss – said that they would investigate this thoroughly and apologized personally for his employee’s misconduct.

I was spiraling at that point so I thanked him and said I wasn’t mad, I was just looking out for both of our reputations. He promised to keep it between us and I agreed.

Then I apologized to Bloody Mary because I didn’t feel like eating dinner anymore. She said she understood and wished me well.

I went home and did a quick perimeter search of the property. Sure enough, there were human summoning stones ALL OVER the yard. Which means my boyfriend was intentionally luring humans to our house to get me to kill them so he could take credit. It wasn’t a mistake at all.

My boyfriend came home later that night in his work clothes. As soon he got inside he started yelling. He said he was suspended without pay and that all his hard work was for nothing.

I said I knew he’d been stealing my kills and he almost ruined my reputation. He said they still counted as his kills because he did all the work of luring the humans to our house.

I told him that wasn’t how it worked and he knew it. He said it was the same as setting a trap and I was taking this too seriously. I told him that, as a Slasher, he has to use a weapon to get his kills, not me. He said I was basically the same thing since I had such a high kill rate. I asked him if he was calling me an object.

(My parents exploited me by selling me as a haunted doll through a lot of my childhood and he knows I’m sensitive to being called an object.)

He backpedaled at that point and asked if I didn’t want to buy a house together. He said he was doing it for us and I should’ve understood and not said anything. I told him that when I was a Cryptid I had my pride and would’ve never done this.

He said I needed to tell his boss that he was the one who made all those kills. I said it wasn’t me who recognized them as Cryptid kills and now his boss knew too. He accused me of thinking I’m better than him because I have telekinetic powers and can move through shadows and can possess people, while he’s basically a human himself. I told him of course not and that I worked hard for those powers unlike him.

He got really mad at that and actually charged at me with his machete raised. I don’t think he was going to actually hit me, but I reacted like he was. It was all instinct. I disarmed him and I swear I heard a crack when I grabbed his wrist. I shoved him into the wall.

 He crumpled to the floor and started crying. He said sorry and sort of curled up around his wrist. He said he didn’t ever feel like he was enough for me and he didn’t even know why I was still with him. He called himself a bunch of names and said I would be better off without him.

I sort of awkwardly stood there for a minute. On one hand I wanted to assure him that he was enough and that I loved him, but, on the other, I wasn’t sure I could forgive him. He nearly ruined my reputation, and he embarrassed me in front of Bloody Mary. Plus, I still didn't know where he’d been going all those times he said he was on a business trip and apparently wasn’t.

So I ended up not saying anything. I went to our room and started packing a bag. He followed me. He was still crying as he begged me not to go. He said he would own up to his kill steals at work and he would make it right. He pleaded for me not to leave him and that he would give up slashing.

I told him I needed space to think. He tried to grab me, but I shadow walked out of the house. I heard him screaming from outside and I hurriedly drove away.

Now I’m at my friend’s house and I told her everything. She agreed I did the right thing walking away from him, but when I asked her what I should do she hesitated. She said that my boyfriend wasn’t right to kill steal but, as a fellow Slasher, she understood what he was going through. She said I wouldn’t understand the pressure to meet quota because I was always surpassing mine when I was in the field. She said that a Cryptid could never understand a Slasher.

She also said that nobody would have found out about his kills if I hadn’t brought them to his boss’ attention. She said the only time kills are on display like that is at the Eldritch Conference and by the next one, he’d have had kills of his own. She thinks that if I’d just confronted him at home, he wouldn’t be on suspension.

So now I’m worried that I overreacted when I told my boyfriend’s coworkers that he was lying about his body count.

AITA?

----

Thanks for reading! Several amazing supernatural citizens (aka my Patrons) gave great advice to our poor OP over on my Patreon! Please go check them out here (X)

(I will definitely be posting some of them here in the near future!)

My next supernatural AITA is already up to my patrons!

It's called "AITA for divorcing my vampire husband because he lied about his human job?"

Patrons get to see many of my stories a week ahead! If that interests you please check me out here (X)!

[ravegore]

god. god. god

[feedthefandomfest]

Comment Bingo: Old Fic Edition

Very simple rules: connect 5 squares in a line by commenting on fics that suit the task in each square

Very simple goals: encourage readers to comment on older fics; encourage fandom writers to KEEP WRITING

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Download Bingo Card HERE (png) or HERE (jpg) or HERE (pdf)

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Tag me when you earn a bingo (or double, triple, quadruple... FULL CARD bingo) and I'll reblog a shiny badge with your name on it to commemorate the win.

FAQ:

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Either one is great! This card especially is more designed with AO3 in mind, but some can be adjusted to suit tumblr as well, so I say go for it. Tumblr fics deserve love, too.

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Since the goal is for as many fics to receive comments as possible, try to comment on a different fic for each square.

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Happy commenting!!

[grimmweepers]

𝐏𝐎𝐖𝐄𝐑 𝐈𝐌𝐁𝐀𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄: OCT 17TH

— ♤ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: zhongli x fem!reader | 𝐜𝐰: established relationship but reader finds out his true identity! morax!form, draconic!form mention, human!reader, sex with a god, hair pulling, creampie, nipple play, rough sex, reader wears a nightgown, he calls you 'small in his hands', reader is implied to serve rex lapis, maybe ooc, 2.8k wc 18+ only, MDNI.

𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐫𝐞𝐠𝐮𝐥𝐚𝐫 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

reblogs and interactions are always appreciated ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

This was completely different from the first time you shared beds with him.

Back then, Zhongli had been soft and gentle, undressing you with such tender care until nothing remained but bare skin and bones. You remembered his warm amber eyes, his featherlight touches, and how he gave so much of himself to you that it left you dizzy and breathless. 

But this was something else entirely. 

It wasn’t that long ago when, to you, he was just a consultant at the Funeral Parlour—a Liyue nobleman who was well-versed in Teyvat’s history. He had been courting you since the last Lantern Rite (perhaps longer if you had paid attention) and you were more than content with the consultant, admiring him just as he was.

Then, after retiring his gnosis—and you still struggled to fully grasp what that meant—he finally confessed.

Overnight, he went from a funeral consultant to Rex Lapis and no matter how many times he explained that he was technically no longer an Archon, it didn’t change the fact that he was still an immortal who had witnessed Liyue from infancy.

And you slept with him!

The memory sent a shiver down your spine, though you couldn’t deny the thrill of realising how the Lord of Rock had practically begged for you to get on top that night. That same feeling returned now as you prepared to sleep with him again. 

You basically asked for it, though. 

When he revealed his identity to you, you had some questions. The first was if he had a real form, to which he replied: I have many.

Then the second question—or rather, request—was to see one of these forms. He was happy to oblige, but you hadn’t expected him to be so… forward.

I’m not being forward, he defended himself, My skin is part of my form. It just so happens that I have to adjust my attire for you to see it properly. 

But he knew exactly what he was doing.

“Zhongli—” His name now felt strange on your lips as you stared, spellbound by his new appearance. You were so captivated that anything could have rolled off your tongue and you wouldn’t have noticed… or cared.

He truly embodied every depiction of Rex Lapis you’ve ever seen.

“Is something the matter?” He asked as if his arms weren’t adorned in glowing geo patterns, as if his physique wasn’t carefully carved by millennia as a leader. He stood over you while you sat on the edge of your bed and you gulped at the vitality in his features. 

He looked larger—more youthful, even.

“What do I—” You hesitated, wondering if your question was foolish. “What do I call you?” 

He cupped your jaw the way he always did, though now with bare hands darkened by power that you could barely comprehend. “You can choose whichever name you like,” he replied. “It doesn’t change who I am to you.” 

Your mouth went dry. It was frightening how much more irresistible he seemed like this.

“Morax,” you whispered, mostly to yourself.

His brows lifted slightly, but he stayed silent.

“Morax,” you repeated, louder this time. You knew calling him ‘Rex Lapis’ would have been more respectful, more appropriate, but after seeing him in this divine form, with barely a towel wrapped around his waist, you knew that respect had already been thrown out the window. You would ask to be forgiven but what difference would it make if the god you pleaded to stood right before you in compromised garment?

“Interesting choice,” he chuckled as he pressed his thumb to your lips, “Now, lie still and let me enjoy what belongs to me.”

Those words sank in like branding on your skin—what belongs to me.

He was slow with you at first, hovering over you as you lay back. The silk of your nightgown clung to every curve of your body which left little to the imagination and Zhongli was so engrossed with his view, that the lust in his eyes made something inside you stir. You had to look away, your arms instinctively moving to shield your flushed expression.

After all, it wasn’t every day that you found yourself at the mercy of a man so many prayed to.

Gently, he pulled your arm away, “Why do you turn from me, my love?” He tilted his head, studying you like prey, but the tenderness in his voice reminded you that the ghost of your sweet Zhongli was still there, lingering beneath this form. 

“Are you regretting your curiosity?”

“I guess… seeing you this way makes me a little… shy,” you said, though you didn’t believe your own answer.

Before you could say more, his mouth was on yours, fierce and reassuring. It took the air right out of your lungs. You barely had time to recover before he started trailing softer kisses along your jaw, then down your neck, leaving a path of warmth in their wake. 

“Shy?” he repeated against your skin, “After all we’ve done, you’re still shy?” He slid his hand up your sides, tangling his fingers between the fine silk. “You may be skilled at keeping secrets but not from me. Tell me the truth, my sweet.” 

You opened your mouth to respond but you couldn’t stop your back from arching at his touch, which was very much an invitation for him to tear off the delicate fabric from your body. When he did, it left your chest exposed to his hungry gaze, earning him a small gasp and a deep ache pooling between your legs. 

“You’re so small in my hands,” he mused, fingers tightening around your throat for a brief moment. "And yet… you offer yourself so willingly."

You had offered yourself to a god.

You had offered yourself to a god.

“Do you understand what you’re doing?”

A shudder tore through you as he took both breasts into his hands and sunk his teeth between them, leaving you little marks made from canines you had never seen before. When you suddenly felt his hard bulge pressing against your core, you realised the towel around his waist had already been discarded. How could you even respond to him?

“This excites you, doesn’t it?” He murmured into the crook of your neck, grinding against you. He didn’t give you a chance to speak when he pried your legs open with one knee. “Have I ever told you how intoxicating you smell when you’re like this?” 

Harder than before, he bit into your neck and you found your fingers tugging on his hair.

“You can… smell me—?”

“I can sense you,” he corrected, “And I know exactly what you want from me." You could certainly tell he was pleased with himself yet instead of pushing you away, it only drew you in further.

With a single motion, you hooked your finger around the pin holding his ponytail in place, and pulled—freeing his hair so it cascaded down over his toned muscles.

He looked perfect. Divine. It was your way of confirming what he already knew—that you wanted this, wanted him.

Zhongli’s eyes glowed in the dim light and there was no mistaking the godly aura of Morax residing in him. The air seemed heavier under the weight of his presence. You were suffocating.

A deep growl elicited from his chest as he pushed the tip of his cock against your underwear, teasing your entrance. You whimpered at the way he bullied you, desperately pulling him in for another feverish kiss to satisfy at least one need.

This one was hungrier, messier. His groan vibrated through your mouth as his carbon-black hand slid back to your throat, squeezing just enough to make you gasp for air. 

Each twist and flick of his tongue felt like a silent demand: Give in. Yield.

In this state, a picture cleared. Zhongli's hands were everywhere—tangled in your hair, between the valley of your breasts, dipping into the areas you ached the most. This side of him was primal, gluttonous, and possessive. Every touch felt forbidden—blasphemous, even. And yet, you couldn’t bring yourself to say you weren’t enjoying every sinful second of it.

Finally, Zhongli parted from the kiss, his breath heavy as his eyes stayed locked with yours. For once, he allowed himself to make you completely at his will. 

The head of his cock pressed harder against your entrance, the flimsy barrier of your silk underwear doing little to dull the intensity of his lust. He was desperate to feel the warmth inside you. You were already soaked, and he knew it—he could feel it, smell it, and it drove him wild.

“My dear,” he said, sound impatient now, “you know I admire you, right?”

“I do,” you replied too quickly.

“Good. Because I don’t want you to be mistaken.”

“What do you mea—”

Before you could finish, he pulled your underwear to the side and let his cock glide against your folds. Your hips moved with him, coating his shaft with your wetness, and that was enough for him to forget about taking it slow. Groaning, he shoved his blunt tip inside you and it left your thighs trembling. Your body felt like it was on fire, jerking back as his length stretched you out, your fingers gripping the sheets tightly, “Oh my—” you gasped.

Had it been that long since you last did this, or was this form accompanied by godly… benefits?

With his head thrown back in sheer pleasure, he let out a throaty grunt, almost salivating at the way your walls pulsed around him—like your body had been made just for him. Somehow, sex felt even better in this form and it had him feral enough to hold the sides of your hips, fingers digging into your flesh to anchor himself between your legs. “That’s it,” he growled, “Take every inch.” 

He started thrusting—hard—the sound of skin meeting skin echoed off the walls. Your breasts bounced in rhythm, and he was so entranced by the sight he could cum on the spot. Every second, he was ripping moan after moan out of you as he fucked you into the mattress. 

“Morax,” you called out, your voice shaking while he pumped in and out of you relentlessly, “So… good. I want more…” You ran your hands across his chest, feeling the quickening of his breath. His face shifted into a predatory look and you realised that he was losing himself as much as you.

“Then come here,” he groaned through gritted teeth, spoken exactly like someone who had never been defiled.

He didn’t wait for you to respond. Instead, he flipped you to your stomach, left your ass in the air and your legs hanging off the bed—your toes barely even touching the floor.

You braced yourself for his unyielding pace, but he surprised you with a tender kiss on your shoulder, “Tell me if it’s too much.”

The unexpected affection made your heart swell so you wiggled against his crotch, inviting him for more. He chuckled, almost pityingly, knowing full well what he was about to do next.

You couldn’t even catch your breath before he pushed back inside you, hissing as he indulged in your warmth. You swore you were well-behaved but somehow this felt like a punishment. He, who was so deceptively gentle a moment ago, found your hair and tugged it into his fist, drawing a sharp yelp from your lips.

Once he started moving at the same unforgivable pace, each thrust forced his name out of your mouth. “M-Morax— Mor–ax,” you were barely coherent and it riled him up the more you said it. It surely wasn’t the first time hearing someone call him that but in this context, he wasn’t going to make it his last—especially if it was you.

"Is this what you wanted?" he growled, his voice resonant, like the rumbling of the earth itself. 

“Y-Yes…”

Although, you weren’t sure what you expected when you asked to see his form but you knew what you were receiving now was the primal strength of something foreign to you.

His heavy cock stretched you so deliciously, filling you so completely that every nerve in your body screamed with pleasure. You clawed at the sheets as you creamed rings around his base and the wooden bedframe groaned with each erratic thrust.

His movements were undeniably getting sloppier and his breaths came in short, guttural huffs. “Feel- how- deep I am inside- you?” he rasped, punctuating each word with a sharp snap of his hips. “You’re taking it so well.” You couldn’t see it but you heard a grin dancing behind his voice as he pushed deeper.

Your feet were lifting off the ground with each thrust, leaving your ass stinging from the relentless pounding. When you felt his free hand snake around to cup your breast, fingers squeezing your sensitive nipple, you practically melted. “Thank you… Ple—,” you whined, the only words you could really manage.

But that was enough for him.

Zhongli’s grip on your hair tightened as he pulled, forcing your head back while his other hand dug into the soft flesh of your breast. The pain mixed with pleasure sent your vision into a blur of white. It shouldn’t feel this good but you could feel your orgasm coming despite being nothing but a ragdoll in his powerful hands. 

His body trembled as he chased his release, each thrust growing more urgent as he drove into your G-spot. Every stroke sent waves of pleasure through your body until finally, your climax hit like a tidal wave. Letting go of your hair, you collapsed against the mattress. It was too much so it left you biting into the sheets, a cry ripping from your throat as your pussy clenched around him, milking his cock with each spasm. “I-I’m—ahhh—cumming!”

“Just like that,” he groaned while your body tightened, savouring the way your body responded to every thrust. He was unable to think about anything else aside from the feeling of your muscle clenching and pulsating, “So tight—keep going. You’re perfect like this.”

With one final snap of his hips, you felt him pulse between your walls, his balls tightening as he emptied deep inside you. Thick ropes of hot milky cum filled you, his cock twitching as he buried himself to the hilt. Your name rolled off his lips in a low, drawn-out grunt that was raw and animalistic, a sound that made you delirious enough to go another round just to hear it again. 

Even after he finished, he stayed pressed against you, fucking his cum back into you with lazy, satisfied strokes, filling you over and over until there was nothing left to give. 

“I’m… full,” you whispered shakily, still feeling every inch of him inside you.

“Are you alright, my dear?”

Yes and no. If getting tossed around meant you were fine, then sure.

"I'm okay," you breathed.

"Good girl."

When he finally pulled out, you went completely limp, rolling onto your back while a thin layer of sweat left your skin glowing.

You could feel Zhongli doing the same, his body mirroring yours as you both lay there, chests heaving, struggling to catch your breaths. After a moment, you turned to face him, both of you blinking at each other under the light.

“This… wasn’t what I meant when I said show me one of your forms,” you managed to say. 

“Are you complaining?” 

You let out a soft sigh as you stared up at the ceiling. Even after all this, he hadn’t lost his sarcastic sense of humor. “No,” you admitted, feeling warmth creep into your cheeks. “It’s just that… well, I think I might’ve enjoyed you—the real you—a little more than I expected. A little more than what’s appropriate, perhaps.”

You couldn’t help but dance around the memory of all the offerings you’d given Rex Lapis throughout your life. Was this his gift in return?

“Oh? Pray tell, what is it that you enjoyed so much?”

You hesitated but the way he looked at you made it impossible not to answer. 

 “I liked… the way you moved…" you felt slightly embarrassed to continue but he nodded for you to go on, "You were rougher on me, but it made me want more…”

While you spoke, you noticed subtle changes in him. His pupils began narrowing into thin slits, and his golden irises seemed to glow with an ethereal light. The sharpness of his fangs became more pronounced, peeking between his lips. His fingers, which had been tracing circles on your arm, now felt a little sharper, almost claw-like.

“And… your strength,” you gulped as you watched his transformation. “It was… overwhelming. I couldn’t resist it but I didn't want to. I felt safe.”

A low, rumbling growl emanated from his chest, his hand sliding possessively to your waist. It made your stomach flip.

“If that’s the case,” his voice was deeper now, almost a purr as his newly revealed tail coiled around your thigh. He leaned closer, his breath hot against the shell of your ear. 

“Why are you trembling?”

© 2024 grimmweepers — do not repost, copy, translate, modify my work on any platform

dividers: @/astrumaur

[evilminji]

Okay, you know how bird don't ACTUALLY look the way we think they do?

They are far more colorful? But only to the eyes of other birds?

And it has to do with how light reflects off them and how their eyes are shaped etc etc.?

Well..... humans can see the most shades of green, right? But! We sure as shit can't see UltaViolet and InfraRed? Or shades BEYOND those. Ectoplasmic colors. Magical ones. Third eye, need to see with your SOUL type ones.

Danny? Could very well still have lil baby "kitten's eyes who haven't open yet" syndrome.

He thinks the Zone is Green and his hair is white.

But it's not.

His hair is Starlight colored. Frost. His suit is specifically "the void between stars" colored. Which looks... different? Then black? No, no, guys. How can you guys not see it? It looks REALLY different! How did he not NOTICE before?! They're not ever CLOSE to the same shade! It's like calling salmon and hot pink the same. You know... if you were to compare an actual fish and some irradiated, violently glowing version of "hot pink".

......guys?

His gloves are.... guys, these ares stars. Pressed so close together there's no gap. His body is the night sky, all rearranged. He's wearing SPACE, guys.

*continues to stare at his gloves for the next five hours*

Now... why is this relevant? Because! Danny slowly, as all humans do, adjusts! It's like finally having glasses after years of blurry vision. He... forgets, what it was like, not NOT See Zone Colors. Not completely, mind you, but enough he has to be reminded.

And the Zone? A Realm of the Dead. Specifically, the great catch-all and highway of the Dead. They get EVERYBODY. Misfits and vagabonds. Those who don't quite fit. Funky lil dudes. And of course, assholes, but everybody has those! See, Zone colors?

Are DIFFERENT.

They're all of um!

It's like looking at the technicolor, stobe light, multi galaxies in one, Sun. Tingly(tm)!!! You get used to it. What helps? Is that as garish as the Zone is? The painting and grand tapestry of it all? Keeps changing. Like weather. If it's too much for you, you can stay inside your Lair until the current Color changes. Until the designs shift. Vibe changes.

There are even glasses for that! "Temperate" areas for people to set up, that get headaches or are just... kinda killjoys. Too each their own. Though the stormy areas? Those guys are freaks. Watch out for those guys. They're the kind who stare directly are stars until their eyes burn out.

Where was I? Oh yeah! Danny!

No longer a wee baby, smol baby, twig-o!

Sad. We miss it.

But he did get used to Seeing The Colors. Got a handle on his powers. And! Finally worked with his parents on how to safely turn the portal OFF. There was much booing. Cries of "kill joy" and "booo! You suck!". But? Like? Dude DID have the right to protect his home. Go to college. What can you do?

Problem with THAT is? Baby grew into his "built like a brick shit house of constantly running off to literally tackle the Supernatural excellence" Fenton genetics. He Tall. Muscles! And he PUMPING out "somethings fucked up with me" Vibes!

Add in his DEEPLY Sus off hand comments. Weird ability to tell when someone has or is about to die. Basic immunity to the cold. Fuckin EYE GLOW?

Ha ha... *Horror movie screams from his college dorm mates*

Clearly a demon!

He gets kicked out. Well... not kicked out. He's a model student and broken no rules. They'd never survive the lawsuit. But... he's? STRONGLY INCOURAGED to finish his education elsewhere. Repeatedly. By like... 15 colleges.

Sam is not just livid, she's actively foaming at the mouth.

Breathe, Sam! Remember what your doctor said! Your mortal body can't handle that kinda Vengance spiral! Think of your blood pressure! Breathe!!! (Were not for the laws of this land... and the weak, fleshy constraints of her mortal form!)

Thankfully? Tucker's been interning, remotely of course, with Wayne Industries. He asked his manager where he could find some of those scholarship forms. (Since Gotham University is just a touch out of Danny's price range.) Manager wanted to know why. And oh! Oh holy shit. Apparently? Danny is the hot new office gossip.

People in the main office are OUTRAGED. Danny's "too spooky"?! Too FUCKIN SPOOKY!? Are you KIDDING THEM? Even juicier, a Meta kid from some wacky ghost hunters turned scientists. From a line of Supernatural hunters. Wants to be a aeronautics engineer.

Ooooooh how SPOOKY! Better watch out! He'll design an ENGINE at yooooou!

Fuckin casuals. Non-Gothamites are WEAK. "Too scary" their collective asses. Yeah, maybe the kid SHOULD come too Gotham. He can be the weird kid. Mildly unsettling or something. His powers won't be SHIT in Gotham. Just remind him to buy a gas mask.

So! Danny gets his Scholarship! Merrily packs his bags for darker, Gothic hellscape hills. Unaware... that Constantine has been following reports of a "demon" that he's? 80% sure is a Banshee but MIGHT be a winter spirt with a shtick? For the past 13 colleges. He's getting closer. And this sucker is a strong one.

Not "this is going to cause me serious, life imperilling danger" strong. But more? "Man, that cat is HUUUUUGE". Could he still get mauled a lil? Yeah. Scratched to all hell and back? Probably! But DIE? Unlikely.

He just needs to know why the FUCK this spirit his hanging around colleges.

Which is made harder... by the fact that what HE sees? And what OTHER people see? When they look at this guy? Separate things. Yeah, he'd LOVE to give you guys a description! IF HE HAD ONE.

@the-witchhunter @hdgnj @hdgnj @spidori @babbling-babull @nerdpoe @lolottes

[kakashisbabymama218]

i don’t know if I’d rather have mean katsuki who looks down at you with disgust as you pull off of his cock gasping for air, choking and sputtering, muttering out a ‘useless, can’t even suck dick right’ with a click of his tongue.

the words bring tears to your eyes but this time for a different reason. he’s nice enough to give you a couple of seconds to get your breathing back to normal and for the coughing to stop before he’s guiding your head right back to his cock, watching as your lips stretch to accommodate his girth.

he barely gives you a second to adjust before he’s pushing in deep, deeper than he was before. you try to breathe through your nose, taking in short puffs of air. you don’t last long before you’re sputtering and coughing, pulling off once again, a string of saliva connecting the two of you.

katsuki makes an irritated sound in the back of his throat and your cheeks heat up in embarrassment, it’s not your fault he’s so big! so long and thick that the thought of ever taking him fully down your throat was starting to seem impossible.

“maybe I should just go find somebody else to suck me off, maybe someone who can actually suck dick” he snaps.

ouch he’s really not holding back tonight is he? You’re tired of this, your jaw hurts and your pussy is throbbing and empty, slick dripping down your thighs.

I wish he would just hurry up and fuck me already!

katsuki lets out a laugh before he’s gripping your hair tightly in your hair, bending down until his face is directly in front of yours.

fuck, didn’t mean to say that out loud.

“you wish I would just hurry up and fuck you already, huh?” one hand wraps around your throat, the other making its way between your legs. His fingers trail over your clit, causing your hips to buck, desperate for release, before circling your entrance. “but if you can’t even take me down your throat, how could you ever expect to take me in this tight ass pussy?”

or sweet katsuki who presses gently kisses to your neck as he splits you open on his cock.

“you take me so well pretty girl” he murmurs against your neck, lips trailing up to kiss the shell of your ear. pulling out until slowly, one inch at a time until nothing but the fat head of his cock remains inside of you, before pushing right back in just a slowly. your head is thrown back in pleasure, moaning out as he grinds up into you.

“fuck baby” he sighs, you feel the words fall from his lips as he mumbles them against your skin. “so wet, so tight— so perfect”

katsuki lifts his head, his red eyes watching you, taking in every expression that crosses your face. from the way your eyes squeeze together tightly when he angles his hips up and hits that soft spot inside of you, to the way your lips part in a whimper when he brings his thumb down to rub circles your puffy clit, oversensitive from being ignored all night.

“please” you whine out.

Katsuki’s head cocks to the side “please what, baby?”

you’re not even sure what it is your asking for, maybe for him to stop or even speed up.

its too much; the way he throws his head back in pleasure, moaning loudly when you clench down tightly around him, his hips sputtering for just a moment before he regains his composure and fucks into you even deeper, pace picking up just a little before he slows right back down.

the warmth of his breath against your ear as he whispers filthy words that are a complete contrast to the way he fucks you so sweet and gentle as if you'd break if he went too hard.

the absolute fullness you feel as katsuki fills up every inch of your pussy, allowing you to feel each and every vein that drags along your walls.

“I love you” he tells you with a particularly deep thrusts, pulling a gasp from your lips.  

“I love you.” Paired with a kiss to your left cheek.

“I love you.” A kiss to your right cheek.

“I love you” he connects his lips to yours, one hand coming up to hold your cheek as he kisses you slowly, letting his tongue slip into your mouth as he swallows down your cries of pleasure.

or maybe I wanna mixture of both…

“listen to you” he coos, the hand not pumping in and out of you quickly coming up to rest against your throat. he’s still wearing all of his clothes not having enough time to take them off before you were tugging at his pants and dragging him towards the bedroom, pushing him down on the bed and lowering yourself down onto his awaiting mouth.

!ow he has you laid on your back, three fingers stuffed into your cunt as his thumb occasionally rubs at your clit before pulling away, leaving you panting and whining out at the lost of simulation.

he leans down, lips ghosting over yours. “already came twice but still begging for more.”

his hand tightens around your neck, fingers squeezing and cutting off your air supply for a few seconds before loosening his grip.

“greedy little thing” he mumbles before connecting his mouth to yours. The kiss is wet and messy and you can taste yourself on his tongue. you’re so lost in pleasure, the feeling of his mouth on yours that everything else seems to disappear.

katsuki curls his fingers and you cry out when he hits your gspot with each flick of his wrist. the familiar tightening in your tummy is what brings you back down to earth.

“gonna cu—“ you attempt to warn him only for it to be cut off with a long whine, your now empty hole clenching around nothing, instantly missing the feeling of being stuffed.

“why’d you stop?” you ask, glaring up at him.

“cause I wanna feel you cum around my cock”

“ooh fuckkk” you say in unison as katsuki sinks into your pussy. your hands find his back, nails scratching at his skin as he begins plowing into you, thrusting into you so fast you barely have time to breathe before the air is being knocked out of your lungs.

katsuki doesn’t slow down, instead he pulls you up against his chest and begins fucking into you. This new angle allowing him to reach even deeper.

[evansbby]

you get a request from a mysterious viewer for a private chat…

❃▹or ❃▹

sugar daddy ari meets cute camgirl!reader and she doesn’t know how to act around him.

{18+, dd/lg overtones, daddy kink,minors dni}

A. Levinson has requested a private chat.

The message pops up on your screen the moment you’re about to shut your laptop and call it a night. It’s already past midnight and you’ve just ended a particularly wild livestream. Tonight, you’d done the whole innocent girl act that your subscribers loved so much. You’d asked them to suggest on the live chat all the different ways you could touch yourself. As expected, it had gone over a treat, and you’d done your highest numbers yet thanks to your loving fans.

Speaking of which, your laptop beeps again with another notification:

A. Levinson donated $500.

You recognise the name immediately. Of course, you have no clue what he looks like or who he is. But he’s a new regular on your livestreams. Thousands of people watch you but you recognise the names of those who donate frequently. A. Levinson is one of those people – and his donations are hefty, too. Oh, should you accept? You didn’t really do private chats…

The buzz of another notification snaps you out of your thoughts. Another five hundred dollars. And this time, there’s a message attached.

A. Levinson: I really enjoyed your show tonight. Could I possibly take up your time for just a little bit longer? You can name your price.

Well… he didn’t sound creepy. He was most likely an older gentleman, probably lonely with a bunch of wealth and nobody to spend it on – aka, your favourite type of customer. You hover over his name quickly – no profile picture, forty-two years old (practically double your age!), new profile. Yep, it all checked out. You’d been planning on calling it an early night tonight but perhaps you could stretch it out a little longer and give this lonely old soul a bit of an extra show… For the extra cash, of course.

You fix your hair and adjust the lingerie you’ve still got on. You hadn’t stripped nude on tonight’s livestream, and most of your viewers had been too enraptured watching you make yourself cum over and over again to really even notice. Plus, you always chose the best lingerie to wear for your cam-shows. Tonight, you had on a pretty lacy set in the softest, cutest shade of baby pink, with creamy white ribbons and detailing completing the look along with your signature pink pumps. This A. Levinson guy would be in for a treat and a half. You quickly accept his request for a private chat, easily slipping back into the character you play in your shows.

“Hello there,” you feign shyness and smile into the camera how you always do. “What’s your name?”

“Ari,” the stranger responds, his voice sounding like liquid chocolate pouring straight out of your laptop. Damn. He didn’t have his camera on but that was unsurprising – most of your fans were very shy. “I have to admit, I didn’t know if you’d accept my private chat request.”

“Well, how could I not?” You adjust the straps of your bra slowly, “I love my fans, you know.”

He chuckles, “And they sure do love you.” A pause. “You looked breathtaking tonight.”

You’re used to compliments from your fans. Comments ranging from: “you’re gorgeous” to fuck ur so hot xx” to “I wish my girlfriend looked like you” to “you made me cum so hard in my pants baby.” But the way this Ari guy says it… the way he says the word “breathtaking” – all soft, and slow and melodious and confident. Instantly, your heart thrums, leaving you feeling a tad embarrassed.

“Oh… why thank you! That’s super sweet of you to say.” You recover quickly, slipping back into your “innocent girl” character as you smile softly and avert your gaze and do that thing where you rub your arm and pretend to be all shy. It goes over great with all your other fans.

But this fan only chuckles, “You can call me Ari for now, sweetheart.”

Sweetheart?!?

You clear your throat, “Were you feeling lonely tonight, Ari?”

“You could say that. I try to tune in to your show whenever I have the time. You were beautiful tonight, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you look so sweet.” Oh, there was that liquid chocolate voice again – all velvety and smooth and deep! You vaguely wonder what he looks like…

“Thank you, Ari. What was your favourite part?”

And okay, so maybe you’re being a bit boring right now. Usually, on the rare occasion you did agree to a private chat, you’d be a lot more flirtatious. But this man’s voice was almost putting you in a trance, making you have to think your next words so you don’t stumble over them. Gosh, none of your other fans sounded like he did! All calm and self-assured, and…

“I really enjoyed the part when you were using your fingers. You had that lost look in your eye, as though you were on another planet. I thought it was really cute.”

You giggle, shuffling closer to your webcam so he has a good view of your cleavage. The ring-light behind your camera casts a flattering, bright hue over your body, accentuating the way your breasts spill out of your bra and bounce slightly as you move closer. You think you hear a rumble escape his throat, but you can’t be too sure. Either way, you lean into the camera, “You like it when I touch myself?”

“Honey, I don’t think there’s a man in this world who wouldn’t like that.”

Another spark flutters down your spine, and you wonder why his words are making you react like this. You’ve been on the receiving end of a bunch of different compliments from your fans day after day. So… why now? Why tonight? Why him? Why was it different now?

The buzz of your laptop knocks you out of your reverie.

A. Levinson donated $600.

“Do you think you could touch yourself for me again?” He asks, his voice all velvety smooth yet rugged at the same time. And it’s a request that he doesn’t even bother to veil as a question, and for some reason, you feel a jolt down there at his expectant tone. “I would really love to see that pretty look on your face again.”

You giggle nervously before remembering to put on your innocent girl act for the camera. “Touch myself? I dunno… It’s getting kind of late, sir.”

A. Levinson donated $800.

“I told you, please call me Ari for now.”

You don’t know whether you clench from the sheer amount of money he seems to be throwing at you as if it’s nothing, or the delicious hint of authority in his tone. None of your fans were like that – they all acted like you were very much the one on charge, the one with all the power, the one who could log out and end the chat and leave them hanging at any moment. Which you could – so then why was Ari acting like he was the one who held all the power?

And why did you not hate it at all?

Slowly, you slip your hand down your body, making sure to look demure and seductive in front of the camera.

“Play with your lingerie,” he commands, “Play with those cute little white ribbons.”

“Yeah, o-okay,” you breathe, inwardly wondering why the hell you’re not taking control of your own show like how you usually do. Why you’re so okay with letting him take the lead. Nevertheless, you twirl the ribbons of your panties around your fingers, stroking the satin softly as your core begins to pulse in need. But instead of going down to touch your pussy, you keep playing with your lingerie instead, imagining that your hands are not yours, but rather… someone else’s. Someone who’s rough, tough, masculine and rugged… And hell bent on teasing you.

“Use your other hand too,” Ari says, “Squeeze your pretty tits, baby girl. They look so pretty in that pink bra.”

“Th-Thank you, da–” You bite down on your tongue just in time, mortified that you almost let that word slip out. And you think you hear a smirk on the other end of the call, but you’re too preoccupied with listening to Ari to really pay any heed. With one hand still playing with your panties, you squeeze your breast with your other. Your nipple feels hard against your palm, and your eyes momentarily flutter shut as you knead your soft flesh at his orders.

“That’s so good, pretty girl. You look so pretty and cute like that.” Ari compliments. “In fact, your choice of lingerie is one of my favourite parts of your shows. You’re always wearing something cute and girly. It’s very charming, sweetheart.”

Oh, how was he being so calm right now? Usually, your fans got themselves worked up within the first few minutes of your private chats. It didn’t take much to get them to blow their loads and their money too, and the chat would be over in about five minutes. But right now? Right now, it seems you’re the one who’s getting worked up. Quickly, you clear your throat.

“Thanks. This set is one of my favourites.”

“Is that so? Well, you have to promise me you’ll buy yourself a few more sets as adorable as this one.” Ari responds, “Cute and pink and pretty, just like a princess. Aren’t you, sweetheart?”

“Yeah,” you agree, cringing at how dumb you sound. He seems unperturbed, however, and you soon grow preoccupied with touching yourself again. Squeezing your other breast while you make direct eye contact with your camera.

“Good girl. Why don’t you touch your little pussy now? I’m sure she’s starting to feel a bit neglected.” He chuckles, and you marvel at how in control he sounds, how easily the words slip past his tongue. “After all, she’s the star of the show, isn’t she?”

“She is,” you agree softly, blinking at the camera, “She’s very wet.”

“Mm, I’m sure she is, baby girl. Push your panties aside and spread your legs so her daddy can take a look at her.”

You gasp when you hear him refer to himself as that, but he seems so damned unperturbed that you feel you have to act the same. Oh gosh, when had this all taken such a turn? Never before had you taken orders from a fan in a private chat, but it’s like he’s somehow programmed you to listen to him through that velvety voice of his.

You spread your legs like how you’d do on a regular livestream, angling the webcam to get the perfect shot. Your panties are soaked when you push them aside, and you bite your lip as you use two of your fingers to spread your folds. They glisten under the lighting, your wetness trailing down your thighs and staining the rug under you.

“Such a good girl,” Ari rewards you with a compliment. “Such a good little girl with a cute little baby pussy. You should be so proud, princess.”

“Really?”

“Yes. Now, do you want daddy to turn his camera on? And don’t worry, it’s alright if you’re too shy and you don’t want me to. You’re just a little girl after all, and I wouldn’t want to force you to do anything you’re not comfortable with.”

Your heart lurches. Ari? Turn his camera on? Oh, you’d be lying if you said you weren’t a bit curious to see what he looked like! To see the face that matched that insanely chocolatey voice… A nervous thrill ripples through you, but you try your hardest to remain cool.

“Y-Yes,” you manage to get out, hating how you stutter. You never stutter on your own livestreams and chats. Never. You clear your throat, “Yes. Yes, you can turn your camera on.”

A moment later you find yourself staring at a set of deep blue eyes. You blink several times. Now, you see a handsome face. A very handsome face. Bronzed skin, a thick beard. Striking eyes, high cheekbones. A gorgeous, sloped nose. Long brown hair that brushes over his eyes before he pushes it back and out of his face. Oh, he was hot! And fully dressed, too. In an expensive-looking suit with his tie loosened around his neck.

“Oh… wow, Ari… I–” You’re at a loss for words, but thankfully Ari takes the reins.

“Keep touching yourself, sweetheart. Yeah, just like that.” He licks his lips, long lashes fluttering across his cheekbones as he blinks, “And call me daddy, baby. Is that okay?”

“Yeah, daddy, that’s fine.”

“I thought so. Now, why don’t you tell daddy your favourite way of keeping your baby pussy happy.” He murmurs softly, slowly, hypnotically.

You watch as his own hand slips down, and it thrills you to think of what he’s doing, what his camera isn’t showing. Oh, none of your other fans were as handsome as him! Or as put together or as in control! No, Ari’s energy is completely different. So softly dominant that it sends chills up and down your spine as you clamber to obey him.

Suddenly, you remember he’d asked a question.

“My stuffie, I guess.” You answer hypnotically, staring into his blue eyes that look to be so deep, so soulful. Like he was a man who’d seen everyone and everything this world had to offer. A man who’d lived an entire lifetime, a man who was, well, a man in the purest sense of the word. So virile, so mature – someone you could look up to, follow, listen to.

“Your stuffie.” Ari repeats, savouring the word on his tongue, “You stuffie keeps your pussy happy, huh? I think I remember watching one of your livestreams where you did something like that. But I’d like you to show me again, baby. Will you do that for me?”

Luckily, your stuffed teddy bear is only a foot away from you, and you quickly grab it. And it was true, sometimes you’d ride your stuffies during your livestreams. Your fans loved to watch you writhe and moan and lose yourself in the moment, watch you go from cuddling your stuffed toys to humping them and making yourself cum. Clearly, Ari had been a fan of this routine too.

You get into position, placing your teddy bear between your legs, watching how its fur goes damp as soon as it makes contact with your soaking pussy. Biting your lip, you waste no time as you start rocking back and forth tentatively. Ari lets out a rumble of approval, and you see his arm flex as he leans forward.

“That’s so good, baby girl. You like using your little friend to make you feel good?”

“Y-Yeah, it’s one of my most viewed livestreams.”

He smirks, “But you’ll put on a better show for me right now, won’t you?”

“Yeah, daddy…”

Your breathing slowly goes shallow, mind clear of any thoughts except how sexy and manly Ari sounded on this call right now. And it feels so delicious already, your teddy’s fur catching on your throbbing clit, incensing you to grind down harder.

“You have a wishlist, babygirl?”

The question is posed so casually that it somehow almost winds you. Your hips slow down and you look up at your webcam. But Ari narrows his eyes, nodding his head as if commanding you to continue, which you do. God, it was so hot how nonchalant he was being — and yet he sounded so attentive too!

“A wishlist?” You squeak, voice going high-pitched as your hips pick up pace, and you wish it was Ari’s thigh you were grinding on instead of this stuffie. Your body’s doing that thing where it feels empty, craving something bigger, more substantial…

“Yes, sweetie. A wishlist. A list of things you want. Clothes or makeup or anything like that.” He’s pumping his dick now, you can tell with how his hand’s moving. But the rest of him looks so unperturbed and unbothered, as if he’s having a normal conversation and not jacking off with a camgirl while he watches her masturbate with a stuffed teddy.

“I—um—yeah, I do…” you somehow manage to get the words out, but you’re mostly focused on cumming now. Your mind conjures up images of you naked on top of a fully dressed Ari. Him big and powerful, guiding your hips with just one hand, dragging you back and forth on his muscular thigh. Or maybe picking you up and placing you on his bulge, letting you rub your soaking cunt on it while he calls you a good girl in that deep, sexy voice of his…

“Sweetheart? You with me?”

“I, yeah, sorry!” You pant, feeling so close and yet a part of you knows you have to answer him. “I d-do — I have a list but—”

“You’re going to send it to daddy after you cum,” he tells you. “A pretty little girl like you needs her daddy to reward her after she humps her pretty little princess cunt and gets off so nicely just like how I asked you to.”

Your orgasm hits you out of nowhere. And it’s his words that tip you over the edge. So dirty, yet he talks in such a sweet way! Oh, a man’s never spoken to you like that! So casually talked you through your orgasm, praising you so sweetly and telling you he’d buy you everything on your wish list?! Who was this man??

“Send it to me. Now.”

You’re weak and spent, legs shaking from cumming so hard. But you quickly send him your wish list on private chat. You doubted he’d buy everything on it — all the expensive jewellery, designer clothes, shoes — especially since he’d already showered you with so many cash donations. But you send it to him anyways, and he hums in approval.

“That’s such a good girl. I really enjoyed our chat, baby.”

Your heart sinks. Was this it?

“Why don’t you show daddy your pussy again, baby girl? I want to see how messy it is now.”

Again, you obey. Angling your webcam and opening your legs for him. A part of you imagines him doing it for you, gripping your soft thighs with his calloused, manly hands so he could inspect to his heart’s content. God, he just exuded dominant energy and it was making you lightheaded. Quickly, you spread your sopping folds with your fingers, letting him see everything.

“Fuck, you’re so messy, aren’t you?” Ari murmurs, and you watch him brush his long hair out of his face. His tanned skin glistens slightly, his lips pink and plump and you find yourself just staring at him in awe.

“I-I’m messy…” you repeat, feeling dumb and spaced out after your orgasm.

“Bet you need your daddy to clean up that baby pussy, don’t you?” He licks his lips, pumping himself faster. That’s when his camera lowers slightly, and your breath hitches at the sight of the angry red tip of his dick.

“I… I don’t know… I—”

He chuckles kind of breathlessly, “You’re all dumbed out, huh? That’s alright, sweet girl. Daddy understands.” Again, he runs a hand through his hair, leaning forward slightly to get a better look at you. “I understand that little girls like you get tired easily, especially after playing with your toy so naughtily like how you were just now. That’s why you need your daddy.”

“D-Daddy…” you whimper, incapable of saying anything else except repeating what he’s saying, but you’re able to press your thighs weakly together, as if his words are just too much and you need to get off again despite being so weak.

“You need me, don’t you? To hold you in my lap, clean you up, take care of you, think for you, buy you whatever you want. Lap at your little baby cunt till you cum in my mouth. Am I right?”

Ohfuck. You feel newfound thrill ripple down to your pussy, making you clench at his words.

“I… I don’t.. I just— daddy, I. —“

Ari chuckles breathlessly, and a lock of his hair falls over his forehead, but apart from that he still looks pristine. The complete opposite of fucked out, messy little you.

“You can’t even speak straight, can you, Princess? That’s alright, little girls like you aren’t meant to think or talk anyways. That’s your daddy’s job, that’s why I’m here. All you have to do is look cute and play with your little toy on my lap while daddy does all the thinking for you. Would you like that?”

“Yes!” You cry, feeling needy and vulnerable and still a little bit confused as to how this virtual stranger has reduced you to such a blubbering mess.

“Fuck. Say it, then. Tell me how badly you need me.”

“N-Need daddy,” you blubber, vaguely wondering what your viewers would think if they saw you now. Often, you acted all spaced out and whimpery in your livestreams. But this… oh, this wasn’t acting at all. Ari had well and truly reduced you to a whimpering mess — and you didn’t even know the guy!

“I know you need me,” he croons, “Little girls like you always need their daddy. And I want to take care of you too, sweet baby.”

“Please do!” You cry, “Need you to take care of me so bad! Can’t think, can’t… I can’t…”

You press your thighs together and cum again. And it’s a shock to you, you hadn’t expected to orgasm again so quickly. But you hear Ari groan, and a moment later you watch enraptured as he blows his load, spurts of his thick cum landing on his palm. And you wish so bad you were there in person to clean him up too.

“Both of you are quiet for a minute or so after that. All you can hear is his breathing - rapid at first before it goes steady. You, on the other hand, are beside yourself. Whimpering, crying, breathing hard. You just want him to hold you - and it’s crazy because you don’t even know who he is! Not really, anyways. But he looks so big and strong even on the laptop screen, and you really feel so small in front of his eyes, but in a good way… He had a way with words, so soft and dominant that it made you want him to take care of you, and-

"Thank you, baby girl,” Ari chuckles after a while, “thank you for indulging me.”

You clear your throat, “I…uh… I… okay.”

“You still dumbed out, honey?”

You lower your eyes and nod, feeling all kinds of shy now that you’ve cum twice and your senses are all coming back. Had you really gotten that submissive and vulnerable with a viewer on private chat? Oh gosh…

“Do you need daddy to tell you what to do next?”

You nod, embarrassed at how helpless you feel. Your legs are still shaking from the remnants of your orgasm, ears still buzzing from that smooth, gravelly voice of his as he’d coaxed you through those two orgasms.

“First, I want you to send me that wishlist of yours. Then, I want you to go and take a nice, hot bath to calm yourself down, alright?”

“O-Okay, daddy,” you agree quietly.

“Mm, that’s my good girl. Then, I want you to put on something comfy and tuck yourself into bed. I know little girls like you need your daddy to do that, but for now I need you to do it for yourself. Got that?”

You nod dumbly.

“Daddy needs you to use your words, sweet girl.”

“Yes, I - uh - I’ll take a bath and tuck myself in, daddy.”

“Good girl. But I’ll need you to take pictures as proof you’ve followed my instructions.”

“I will, I will!” You blurt out, wanting to make this virtual stranger proud. Oh, you didn’t even recognise yourself anymore but you didn’t care. Not in the least.

“Thank you, baby. And one last thing.”

“Y-Yes?”

“Would you like to talk to daddy again tomorrow night?”

“Yes! Please, yes!”

“I thought so. Why don’t you give me your number, sweetheart, and I’ll be sure to make that happen.”

THE END.

Honestly wrote this super quickly so it’s probably paced like shit and not that good but YOLO. also i tried something different with the layout heheehehe LMK WHAT YOU THINK ABOUT THE FIC PLSSS LOVE YOU GUYS

[sweatervest-obsessed]

Hangovers and Hickeys

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

WC: no idea rn lmao probably like 700

A/N: some Spence content before the new year (on the western calendar). Hope you all get to enjoy the day!

“Good morning sunshine.”

You winced at the sheer volume of his voice. “If I could, id shove you off of the roof Derek Morgan.”

“Fun night?”

You snorted and finally lifted your head off of the desk. “You should be a profiler.”

That caused Derek to laugh, which made you wince and close your eyes. The sunglasses perched on your nose were supposed to be helping. They weren’t.

“That’s a nice hickey you got there.”

You grunted in response and tried to adjust your sweater collar so it would cover the hickey you missed this morning when you didn’t look in the mirror. You had basically rolled out of bed, and into your car to make sure you got to work on time.

“Who gave it to you?” “Why don’t you use your super duper profiling skills to deduce it or whatever Sherlock shit you wanna do.”

Derek snorted and shook his head. ”or you could just….tell me.”

“Don’t worry about it Derek.” You grumbled.

When Derek realized he wasn’t going to get any answers out of you about it, he decided he was going to change tactics.

“Moving on from Boy Wonder?” It was no secret that you had a crush on a certain nerdy doctor. And so Derek tried to use this knowledge to his advantage.

You crossed your arms and just raised your eyebrows. “I’m not dignifying that with a response,”

“Pretty sure that was my answer.” He chuckled, sitting down in his chair and swiveling to look at you.

When you decided to just ignore Derek, and face your desk, he piped up again. “Where is he anyways?” “No idea.”

It was like he was waiting for his cue from you. Spencer pushed open the doors to the bull pen and strolled in. He had his purple scarf around his neck, over his new coat that Henry (JJ) had gotten him for Christmas. It was a beautiful grey pea coat that kept him warm during these freezing winter months. Spender was carrying a tray with two coffees on it and what seemed like a bag from McDonalds, which seemed to be for you, since he was headed in your direction.

The smell of the food caused you to groan with joy and smile at the man walking towards you.

“My knight in shining armor.” You muttered as he placed the whole tray in front of you. You placed a kiss on his cheek hasilty, causing him to blush a little.

“I got hashbrowns from both McDonald’s and Dunkin’, a little smorgasbord of grease for your pallet.” He whispered before taking one of the cups out of the tray.

“I’m going to marry you Doctor Spencer Reid.” You muttered, digging into the bag and pulling out one of the McDonald’s hash browns and biting into it. The groan you let out leaned a little on the pornographic side, which made Derek raise his eyebrows at the sound you let out, and then at tinge of pink on Spencer’s cheeks.

You continued eating, clueless about the silent interrogation happening to your left, enjoying every single bite and sip of your hangover cure.

“Derek I can hear you thinking and it’s making my head throb.”

Derek’s eyes snapped back to you, as your figure swiveled in the chair to face him, casually munching on some of the fries, in a completely different mood then from two minutes ago before Spencer had walked in the room.

“Sorry your highness. I’m just curious as to why Boy Genius here is bringing you hangover cures.”

“Well it’s his fault I’m this fucked up so he owes me.” You grumbled, swiveling around in your chair to face your desk. You pulled your lap top out of your canvas bag and started to set up for your work day.

“Wha-how is it his fault.”

That’s when Spencer turned bright red and tried to change the conversation, or at least get out of it. “I—well it’s not…I….hotch is…”

Spencer basically ran across the bullpen and up the stairs to Hotch’s office, avoiding the conversation he almost just had.

“I don’t think you wanna know.” You smirked and bit into the muffin from Dunks that Spencer had got you, not looking at the man behind you.

“I’m starting to think that too.” His eyes narrowed and he looked between where Spencer had run off to, and you.

Something was going on between the two of you, and Derek Morgan was going to figure it out.