#the 'whos on first' bullshit going on with these two is...ENDLESS.

[queenofbaws]

if i had a nickel for every supermassive character named chris h known for making corny jokes, having questionable social skills, and possessing the innate ability to completely ruin a monster hunter's night without even trying, i'd have two nickels

and that isn't a lot, but it does make writing scenes where both of them are in the same room pretty complicated

[synthetic-sonata]

really awesome day to think everythings going alright and then you wake up and get hit in the face twice in a row

[starlightxsvt]

Sibilance. | j.ww (M)

synopsis ➳ ❝ he is always getting in trouble and it is your job to get him out each time. the problem is, the more time you spend with him, the bigger trouble it becomes for your heart. in the end, who will get you out? ❞

pairing ➳ lawyer fem!reader x rich badboy!wonwoo

genre ➳ smut, slight angst, good girl bad boy trope ig

word count ➳ 4.9k + 800(patreon bonus)

warnings ➳ mentions of fighting, injuries, bruises, reader wears glasses, dom!wonwoo, big dic!wonwoo, messy makeouts, degradation(he calls her a sl*t during seggs), unprotected intercourse, reader is lowkey down bad for him(aren't we all), male oral(reader's first time giving bj), slight nipple play, cream pie, rough sex, no aftercare, open ending ;D

A/N: yes this is a repost

You step out of the police station, the click of your heels echoing against the smooth, shiny floor leading down to some stairs. With your phone pressed to your ear by your shoulder, you shove the documents into your bag and try to zip it closed, all while listening to the Chairman, your richest client over the phone.

“Yes Chairman, I will get him home right away.”

The call disconnects as you manage to zip your bag, a sigh of relief falling from your lips. You allow yourself a moment to breathe, a moment to inhale a lungful of the cold night air. After how hectic the past hour has been, the only thing you need right now is a drink and a solid eight hours of sleep.

However, you will not be getting any of that.

You find Wonwoo standing a few feet ahead of you, his back facing you as he waits there with his hands in his pockets, kicking stones on the ground and looking around with boredom.

This man is the creator of the biggest chaos. He should come with a neon sign flashing on his forehead that reads “trouble.”

You close your eyes and take a deep breath, mentally preparing yourself to deal with him without losing your professionalism. “Mr. Jeon, let me drop you home.”

The tall man turns around as you approach him, and a wide, mischievous smirk graces his lips, “How many times have I told you not to call me that, Princess Lawful?”

Pushing your frames up your nose bridge, you narrow your eyes at him, not appreciating his hearty attitude.

“I don’t get paid enough for your bullshit, you know.” You comment under your breath, reaching into your pants pocket to search for your car keys.

“Oh please,” he rolls his eyes. “You are like what— twenty seven? And you have a five figure income monthly.”

“Whatever,” you grunt, fishing deeper into your seemingly endless pocket before finally finding your key. Wonwoo comes closer to you and casually snakes an arm around your shoulder, pulling you closer to his body, his firm chest bumping against your arm as you stiffen up from the contact.

“Don’t worry, I will ask my father to give you a raise,” he leans down to whisper in your ear, making your breath stutter. Despite the cold weather, you can feel your face heat up, the dangerous proximity messing with your brain. It is all too much— his touch, his smell, his voice, a lethal combination that makes your knees weak.

You look at the taller man, in the back of your mind wondering how you ended up here. After graduation, you were lucky enough to get a job at one of the most reputable law firms right away.

Maybe not entirely luck, but through your hard work. You had sacrificed your youth, eyesight and skin for the job as you came out the top in your class. The plan was to work nine to five and within a year or two, end up with a fat paycheck every month. Things were going according to your plan until earlier this year when you made a huge breakthrough in a very important case that even your seniors were struggling with. That got the attention of your company president, Mr. Pi who immediately had you put in the legal team of the Jeon family as a junior advisor. He said there was an empty position and you would be the perfect fit. He promised that the workload would not be too much as you would primarily assist the senior lawyers in their tasks and the pay would be good.

It was a mistake to believe Mr. Pi.

The first time you saw Wonwoo was in the early morning on a Monday, one week after joining the Jeon family’s legal team. As you were sneaking sips of coffee from your tumbler in a meeting room full of old men discussing boring things, Chairman Jeon, Wonwoo’s father barged in followed by the trouble stirrer himself.

Wonwoo stole your breath the moment your eyes met him for the first time.

There was something magnetic about him. Other than his drop dead gorgeous looks, broad shoulders and tall build, there was something in his aura, something in the way he walked and carried himself that charged a room with tension and stole everyone’s attention. Once his eyes locked with yours, he stood in front of the door for seconds that felt too long, the look in his fox shaped eyes changing. They flickered with mischief and some amusement as he tilted his head to carefully scan you, a subtle hint of smirk growing at his lips.

For a moment you had forgotten where you were, letting yourself get carried away in his hypnotizing gaze and attractive smile, the little nicks and cuts on his face increasing his appeal by a hundred times.

He was trouble. You knew it right away. You saw it in his eyes, the mischief, the defiance, the chaos he could not wait to cause. He was your polar opposite in every sense and you knew he picked up on it right away. And you also knew you would not be able to get him off your back.

That was indeed, true.

Wonwoo’s first ever case that you handled was assigned that fateful morning. His father gathered everyone to brief about the situation that went down. Wonwoo had gotten in a fight at a bar the previous night, breaking a guy's arm and it was your job to compensate and cover the issue as smoothly as possible.

It has been quite a while since then and for whatever reason, Chairman Jeon always ordered you to handle his son’s cases. Of course, you could not say no to him so for the last ten months you have been working like a dog, cleaning up Wonwoo’s mess everytime he got in trouble, which was often.

It was during one such time, about three months ago, after you had gotten him out of the police station, that the mistake happened.

You slipped and caused trouble for yourself, committing something that altered your course of life.

You slept with Jeon Wonwoo.

Things have been messy since then. Not for him but for you. He definitely has more control over you now, crossing your professional boundaries whenever he pleases.

You are left in ruins, emotionally.

Wonwoo is an attractive, complicated man and you can’t help that you are attracted to him. There is obvious palpable tension between the two of you but ignoring that, you know very well the type of guy he is.

He is not boyfriend material. He is not good for your heart.

Yet now, as your body is pressed against his in the cold winter night, you cannot prevent your heart from dangerously thudding in your chest, a heated feeling rising in your belly.

“Take me home, Princess Lawful,” Wonwoo says, squeezing your shoulder. “I had a long day, you know?” There is an innocent whine in his tone and you can’t help but wonder at his duality.

“Fighting people?” You throw an annoyed look at him, freeing yourself from his grip and marching towards your car.

“Among other things,” he chuckles, his tone is light and playful as he jogs to catch up to you.

Thirty minutes later when you turn off your ignition in front of his house, you look beside to see him asleep in the passenger seat. No wonder it was so quiet in the car. He sits with the seat reclined, arms crossed over his chest as he faces the window in his side, the black locks of hair falling over his eyes.

In the dim light coming from a nearby street lamp, you admire the man next to you, your hands instinctively reaching to touch his face. Once again, your heartbeats quicken, a lump forming in your throat when you try to analyze this strange feeling in your chest. The tip of your index finger brushes his cheek, right below a cut and his lips form a knowing smile.

Your blood runs cold as you snatch your hand back.

This bastard was awake.

His eyes open, the piercing gaze making your breath stutter in your throat. “What dirty ideas were you having, hmm?” He smirks, leaning closer.

You immediately duck your head low, fiddling with your seatbelt in the dark to yank it open.

“I knew you were admiring me.” He easily snaps off his belt and resting his arm on the armrest between the two seats, he tilts his head lower to meet your bashful eyes. “Were you going to kiss me, Princess Lawful?”

You inhale a sharp breath before your hand moves on its own accord, ready to slap him. Wonwoo, however, catches it, his bony fingers wrapping around your wrist in a gentle yet firm grip as you lock eyes with him.

As always, he is calm and poised, a lazy smirk on his face, looking like he has the entire universe and beyond in his palm.

Wonwoo has this effect on you, this weird thing where words get stuck in your throat and your brain fumbles. Right now is one of those as your eyes remain locked with Wonwoo’s hypnotic gaze, leaving you unable to look away no matter how much you want to. Slowly, he pulls your hand towards him, his lips to be exact, as you watch with horror how his lips come in contact with your knuckles.

Suddenly, it is sweltering inside the car even though it is below zero outside. You are brought under a spell as you watch with parted lips how softly, sensually Wonwoo’s lips trace kisses over your knuckles and the top of your hand. The sensation shoots tingles throughout your entire body and at this moment, Wonwoo could ask you to bring him the moon and you would do it.

“Come inside.” His voice is feather light but you know he demands it.

Fuck, no, you cannot let this go on.

You snatch your hand back, shifting in your seat to be as far from him as possible in this confined space.

“I have an early day tomorrow,” you object, not meeting his gaze.

“Oh come on,” He almost whines. “I am injured, you know.”

You turn your head to look at him with skepticism. He watches you with a pout on his lips, his eyes shining as if he is a child waiting for candy. It is a complete whiplash from his previous attitude.

“Don’t believe me?” He sits up straight, determined to prove something as he turns on the overhead light. Then pulling up his windbreaker and his turtleneck, he shows you his lower back where, on the left side there is a big, purple mark blooming.

You gasp, immediately pulling the material of his clothes higher to get a better look. “My god, how did this happen?”

“The guy pushed me real hard. Hit my back against this table.” He explains casually, fixing his clothes. “Come on now, help me treat it.” He announces, not sparing a glance at you as he gets out of the car, his movements relaxed and confident as if he is sure you will follow him.

You do so silently, matching his pace as he approaches his house, the faint crunch of gravel beneath your feet the only sound. He climbs the small steps leading to the front door, its polished surface gleaming in the soft glow of the single overhead porch light. The neighbourhood is very posh, with picture-perfect houses standing at equal distances, their elegant designs glowing softly under the street lamps. The chill in the air adds a crispness to the atmosphere, as the two of your footsteps break the silence where no one is stirring.

Wonwoo’s fingerprint unlocks the door with a beep and he immediately steps inside. The door remains open as you linger in the cold night air outside, hesitant.

“What’s wrong? Do you really enjoy standing out in the cold?” The man cranes his neck to look at you.

With a soft sigh, you step in.

The minute the door shuts closed behind you, Wonwoo’s mouth latches onto yours. He attacks you almost, passion overflowing from him as he presses you against the door in a frenzy.

You knew this would happen. Yet you came in.

There is no one at fault but you.

He shoves his tongue inside you, tasting your mouth like a starved man while his hands do a quick work to shake off your coat from your shoulders. The warmth from his body blankets you in an addictive sense of comfort, his hands moving to hold both of your wrists in a bruising hold against the door.

There is no escape.

Your body submits, relaxing against his as you let yourself feel every bit of the sensations. When Wonwoo pulls away, the space between the two of you charges with tension, the heat increasing with the way his dark eyes bore into yours.

“I have been wanting to do that for a while now.” He breathes, his voice gruff. He lets go of your hands and skims his fingers on your back, pulling down the zipper of your blouse.

Your lips are swollen, his bruising kiss lingering on your lips as you unconsciously lick them, trapped in the dark pools of his eyes.

You are so ruined.

Wonwoo takes a few steps back, his fingers working deftly to remove his windbreaker and his turtleneck. You see him wince due to the bruise when he moves his body and you stop him with a gentle hand on his arm.

“Maybe we should get a look at that first.”

Wonwoo scoffs and you know he will not listen to you. You are about to force him when he takes off his trousers that leaves him in his boxers only and all thoughts fly out of your mind when you see the bulge forming in them.

Wonwoo sports that cocky, insufferable look on his face. “Stop drooling, Princess Lawful.”

You frown, ready to refute when he utters the next words that stun you into silence.

“On your knees.” The playful expression is gone from his face as he looks at you dead in the eyes, palming himself through his underwear.

You are a frozen statue, waiting for him to repeat himself because there is no way he just said that.

“Don’t keep me waiting,” he grunts, yanking you closer to him by your arm. He looks down on you as you feel his breaths on your skin when he whispers. “Get on your knees. And take your top off. I want you to suck my cock. I want to see that nerdy face choking, messy with tears.”

Your throat is a dessert. Your eyes are wide with horror, your hands clenched into tight fists as you try to wrap your head around his dirty words. Wonwoo easily pushes you on your knees, your mind still trying to catch up with what is happening. He, in fact, removes your blouse for you, leaving you in your nude coloured bra as goosebumps break into your skin. His intimidating bulge stands in front of your face and you sense a rush of panic within you.

There is no way you can do this.

Fuck, this is your first time giving a blowjob to someone.

But you cannot let him know that. You would rather plunge yourself in the cold sea and get eaten by sharks. So, with the same determination that helped you finish law school with straight A’s, you set out to prove yourself. With trembling hands, you pull down his boxers and the image of his long, thick length is daunting, immediately making your throat hurt.

Wonwoo's hands snake around your neck, his fingers caressing the base of your low pony as he pushes your mouth closer to his dick.

Shy and unsure, you hold him using both hands, the hard, warm member a foreign sensation beneath your fingertips. Your tongue darts out, giving his tip a kittenish link.

“Stop playing,” Wonwoo warns. “You know how to suck cock, right? Or do I need to teach you that?”

Offended, you push your glasses up and wrap your lips around his tip, sucking on his precum. The breathy sigh that parts from Wonwoo’s lips indicates that you are on the right path. You continue sucking, covering more of his length, adding an inch bit by bit to get used to the feeling of him in your mouth.

Wonwoo, however, does not have the patience and he extends an arm to the wall to support himself while using the other to hold your neck as an anchor as he starts to thrust in and out your mouth in shallow movements.

“Fuck, you look so hot like this,” he pants, his eyes trained on your face, your swollen, spit coated lips wrapped around his length as you look up at him with doe eyes behind your steel frames. “This is my new favourite scene, Princess, you dressed for work and on your knees for me.” He grunts, increasing his pace, his thick length going deeper and making you choke.

The entire scene is so erotic, his filthy words paired with gurgling noises coming deep from your throat and tears that blur your vision. Between your legs, your pussy throbs with pain as an urge to touch yourself grows. You can not do that due to the layers of clothes still covering your lower half so you press your thighs together, focusing on getting him off.

You hollow your throat to the best of your capability and his length goes in deeper than before, prompting you to choke and pull back your mouth from him, bursts of cough coming from your lips.

In front of you, Wonwoo stands, panting harshly as he rubs his slick length, his dark eyes watching you wipe your tears and spit while trying to stop the coughs. “You look so hot right now.” He breathes, the dark depravity in his voice making you look at him.

“I want to come on your face so bad but more than that, I need to get my cock inside you. Fuck you so good you will feel me tomorrow morning when you are at your meeting.”

You can only blink as your pussy throbs at his promise. By now, you are sure that your underwear is a soaking mess.

“Stand up, Princess Lawful.” He orders with a smirk on his face. You immediately comply, standing on shaky legs. Wonwoo wastes no time to press your back flat against a nearby wall, his fingers rapidly working on taking off your belt. He unzips your dress pants and pulls them down halfway along with your underwear in record time. His eyes remain focused on your core and you shy away from his gaze, covering yourself with your hands. He immediately pushes them away and easily slips a finger inside your wet core.

“Oh god,” you moan, your eyes falling closed. Wonwoo scoffs, a cruel smile of lust kissing his lips as he whispers in your ear, “Fuck, look at you. You are dripping. Did sucking my cock turn on so much?”

You nod, an arm coming up to hold his shoulder, the firm muscles feeling so good under your touch.

“Say it,” he commands, using his free hand to grip your face in a firm hold, squishing your cheeks.

“Y-yes.” You whisper, chasing his fingers with your hips. You need him inside you so bad you are going insane.

“Good little slut.” He grins before lining himself up with your entrance and thrusting his entire length in one swift motion.

“Fuck!” The first thing you feel is pain, the entirety of his thick length shoving inside you so hard you swear you feel him in your belly.

Deep in the back of your mind, there is the sensible part of you who shakes her head at your desperation and carelessness. Even though you have an IUD, you still should have used a condom.

That is the issue, all common sense and logic fly out the window when you are near this man. That is why he is so bad for you, for your heart.

Wonwoo suddenly presses his lips to yours, breaking your train of thought. His tongue moves inside your mouth in tandem with his thrusts as your entire body jolts at the force. His fingers hold your ass and the back of your thighs in a bruising grip as he drives inside you mercilessly, each thrust harder than the last one.

You are going to come right away.

Wonwoo however decides to stop. His grip on you loosens as a harsh pant comes out of his mouth, his eyes scorching with animalistic lust.

Then, before you can question or protest, he roughly tugs on your arm, pulling you with him as you two cross the short distance to his bedroom. Standing in front of the bed, he unceremoniously pushes you on the soft mattress, murmuring. “Lie down.”

You do as told, shuffling back into the bed with confusion as Wonwoo fully takes off your trousers and your underwear.

“I can fuck you better like this, on the bed.” He grins as an explanation, making heat rush to your face. Not wasting time, he slides back inside you, a low groan of pleasure falling from his lips at your warmth. The sound makes your pussy clench around his length as a soft mewl falls from your lips when he hits that sensitive spot within you.

“Fuck, keep making sounds like that and I will come right now.”

You once again clench at the idea and a smirk graces Wonwoo’s lips. “You want that, no?” He increases his pace, his right hand tightly holding your waist while his left hand slips down a strap of bra from one of your shoulders, exposing your breast. He squeezes your breasts, pinching and tugging at your nipples which heightens your pleasure. You throw your head back, your fingers gripping onto his arms as you whine, “P-please, I want to come.”

“Such a good slut, begging so nicely.” He huffs, using both hands to grip your waist, his cock driving deeper inside you than ever before due to the angle. Your legs shake and your toes curl as you taste your orgasm coming. 

Wonwoo leans on top of you, covering your body with his as he licks his way from your collarbone and below, all the while moving in and out of you. His lips wrap around your nipple as he sucks and bites and finally the coil in your belly snaps.

Your body spasms, a loud cry of pleasure falling from your lips as you are thrown over the edge and taken away by your release. Wonwoo spurts inside you at the same time, his low groans of pleasure and strings of curses sounding like honey to your ears.

For some time, you find yourself lost in your head, your senses fading into the background. Time slips away as you enter a trance-like state, the aftershocks of pleasure radiating through your body and paired with the day’s exhaustion, you feel like you are floating away on a cloud of bliss and ecstasy.

After a long while, when you are fully back in your senses, you see Wonwoo lying beside you, his eyes closed. Judging from the way he is breathing, he seems asleep. 

The clock on the wall reads 10 pm.

A soft sigh escapes your lips as you sit up on the bed, your joints feeling sore.

You can not shake the overwhelming pity you feel for yourself.

This is what happens when you cross the lines with a guy like Wonwoo.

Alone and exhausted, an emotional mess as you drown in self pity while the guy that has ruined you physically and emotionally sleeps away peacefully. 

Even asleep, he radiates an exquisite beauty, bathed in the soft, golden glow of the lights that fill the room. As you gaze at him, you find yourself wondering what it might be like if this were love rather than lust—if you could stir his heart to race and flutter as yours does for him.

How silly. How pathetic.

With weary steps, you move through his house, first going to the bathroom to clean yourself before gathering your scattered clothes and putting them on. You are about to leave when you suddenly remember the bruise on his back.

With a sigh, you take an ice pack from the refrigerator and wrap it in a towel. Then you pull out the first aid kit from the bathroom cabinet, slightly annoyed to find it untouched and brand new, just like you left it a few months ago. He has yet to use it no matter how many times you requested him to. 

Shaking your head, you place the kit on the bedside table, taking out some compression bandage and a painkiller and placing them outside and within his view. Then, finding a sticky pad, you scribble some notes and stick them on the bottle of the pills, hoping he sees it and follows your instructions.

When you are done setting everything, the man is still fast asleep, his face squished against the mattress as he lies on his front. Gently, you tiptoe near him and peek at the bruise on his back.

He will be in pain later for sure.

Tentatively, you place the ice pack on his back before quickly stepping out of his bedroom. The towel will diffuse the chill so he will not wake up immediately, giving you enough time to leave. 

As you drive your car through the quiet neighbourhood, you make a promise to yourself.

This was the last time you crossed boundaries with him. 

You loathe this emptiness in your soul as you drive away from him late at night, feeling discarded after a quick fuck when all your heart desires is to lay in the warmth of his arms.

That is not your reality and you accepted it. 

From tomorrow, there will be no you and Wonwoo beyond the professional responsibilities that tie you together.

—

NEXT MORNING, 10 AM

As soon as the meeting is over you head for your office and sink down on your chair, sagging into the leather with a deep sigh of relief. The delicious aroma of the coffee heals you as you take a sip, a soft groan falling from your lips.

Today is going to be a long day. You definitely should have prepared better for such a day because being sleep deprived along with a throbbing ache between your legs is definitely not the way to go about it. 

You realize Wonwoo did keep his promise as you can still feel him between your legs, the memories and sensations of last night still too vivid. 

Shaking your head at the unwelcome thoughts, you begin pulling out all the necessary files from your bag and spreading them on your desk when there is a knock at the door.

You look up and before you can tell the person to come in, the door opens.

Wonwoo steps in, making your heart shudder as if the mere thought of him has summoned his physical presence.

He looks dashing as ever, sporting his signature cocky smile as he closes the door behind him. “Good morning, Princess Lawful.” He chirps.

Frowning, you push up your glasses, not finding his presence amusing. You remember the events of last night and the promise you made to yourself. Now is the perfect time to honour it. 

“What are you doing here?” You question, standing up from your seat.

He pouts, approaching you. “Am I so unwelcome? Had some business nearby. Thought I would drop by your office.”

“Do you have anything to consult with me?”

“Yes,” he hums, his gaze sultry. He comes closer to you and easily wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you against his body, his eyes fixed on your lips. Once again, you are overpowered by his touch, smell and everything he makes you feel.

This must stop.

Mustering all your strength, you push him away with a firm hand on his chest. The man stumbles back, looking at you with confusion. With a deep, calming breath, you take a step back and focus your gaze on him, your sharp eyes piercing through his.

“This is over.”

“What?”

“Whatever we were doing…messing around, it is over. I am done.”

“What?” His mouth is agape. He looks absolutely stunned as if your words make no sense to him.

“Mister Jeon Wonwoo, I do not owe you any explanation.” Your tone is sharp, matching your gaze. He frowns, his eyes going dark as he mirrors your gaze. “From now on, I will not be seeing you outside of work, is that clear?”

You see his jaw clench. He inhales a sharp breath, the soft sound cutting through the air fizzling with tension.

“Fine,” he spits with eyes filled with an accusatory intensity so heavy that you feel a physical weight. “Whatever you say. Let's not see each other again.”

You nod, stiff.

You know very well it is a lie. These words are a mere facade of an agreement, bound to be broken. You will see him again for you are two magnets with fierce, crackling attraction. 

Nothing can keep you apart. 

The air thickens with heavy tension, your sharp gazes locked with each other, cutting through the air and charging the atoms with an unending flare. If someone listened closely, they might even hear the hisses of sparks forming and spreading all over.

Sibilance, they call it.

want more of them? head over to my patreon and subscribe here to read their first meeting from wonwoo's pov!

A/N: before y'all think this is the end let me share my plan. so I will be turning this into a series which I will upload from time to time. they will be short episodes, kind of like a slice of life story which will mainly focus on the relationship of these two and their growth. so buckle up, because their journey is just beginning! as always, if you enjoyed reading this, please reblog and share your thoughts. i would love to hear what you guys have to say and what expectations you have from this couple!

on a side note, can we just talk about the overwhelming response of the teaser? like 1k notes in such a short time and also for just a teaser? y'all really love bad boy wonwoo huh. i was pleasantly surprised by the numbers it was doing, even better than a few of my full length fics. not complaining tho! ><

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[cumironi]

YOU WILL GO DOWN IN HISTORY AS THE WORLDS BIGGEST IDIOT : GOJO SATORU, GETO SUGURU

the first time you meet your senior, GOJO SATORU, GETO SUGURU . . . you think they are the weirdest and most idiots person you've ever met, especially that special kid, gojo satoru.

warning : fluff

w/c : 7,8k | [��] MASTERLIST

THE FIRST MEETING

you were walking to the mall with yuu haibara and nanami kento, enjoying the break from school and missions. as the three of you strolled down the busy streets, yuu was excitedly chattering about all the things he wanted to do at the mall, when he suddenly said, “oh, by the way, we're meeting some of our upperclassmen today! and i heard you know shoko ieiri?”

you nodded, recalling the times your father made you visit jujutsu high before you officially enrolled. shoko was always there, casually smoking or chatting with some of the older students, and she was one of the first people to welcome you with her relaxed demeanor and dry humor. but as for the others you were supposed to meet today, you didn't really know them—just heard bits and pieces from conversations around school.

“geto suguru and gojo satoru, right?” nanami groaned at the mention of their names, rubbing his temples as if he could already feel a headache coming on. “great, just what we needed... gojo-unbearable-satoru and his sidekick.”

you chuckled, not entirely sure what to expect but amused by nanami's reaction. “are they really that bad?” you asked, curious since you’d only ever heard that they were an insanely strong duo, both special grade sorcerers, which was a big deal considering their age.

“they’re both ridiculously powerful, but gojo is... gojo,” nanami said, his tone dripping with exasperation, “geto’s alright, i guess. but gojo's insufferable.”

as you arrived at the mall, you spotted shoko first, leaning against the wall near the entrance with her phone in one hand and a cigarette in the other. beside her stood two guys who had to be the infamous geto and gojo. geto looked calm, with long hair tied up and a gentle smile on his face. gojo, on the other hand, had that cocky grin and his signature sunglasses, radiating an aura of arrogance even from a distance.

“there they are,” yuu pointed out cheerfully, waving at the trio.

you hesitated for a moment but followed yuu and nanami as they approached the group. shoko spotted you and gave a small wave, her expression softening slightly. “hey, you made it,” she greeted you, her tone as laid-back as ever.

as you and the other first years finally approached, geto and gojo turned their attention toward you all. gojo was the first to speak, eyes hidden behind his dark sunglasses as he shamelessly scanned you from head to toe. he had that smirk—the kind that screamed he thought he was better than everyone else—and he leaned forward, one hand still stuffed casually in his pocket.

“hey, so this is the new kid?” he drawled, his tone light but with an unmistakable hint of mockery. geto nudged him, a silent warning flashing in his eyes, but gojo barely seemed to notice, too caught up in his own amusement.

you raised an eyebrow, already unimpressed. you’d heard all about gojo satoru from your family—the endless talk about his six eyes and his bullshit special grade powers like he was some kind of walking legend. honestly, you’d had enough of that nonsense to last a lifetime.

crossing your arms, you met his smirk with one of your own, not backing down in the slightest. “wow, the great gojo satoru, huh? must be exhausting, carrying around all that ego,” you shot back, your voice dripping with sarcasm, “heard so much about you—mostly that you’re just an arrogant prick with some fancy eyes.”

gojo blinked, a flicker of surprise breaking through his smug expression, but it quickly turned into a grin. “oh, i like this one,” he said, clearly entertained by your sass. “she’s got some fire.” nanami and yuu couldn't believe what they were hearing, their eyes widening at your boldness. gojo, however, seemed to delight in the fact that you were snapping back at him instead of cowering away like most people did.

he leaned in closer, a sly smile on his lips as he looked down at you, his sunglasses hiding his eyes but the mischief in them was palpable, “well, well, well... the little first year has some bite.” geto watched with amusement, leaning against the wall and hiding a smirk behind his hand.

geto chuckled softly, giving you a knowing look as if to say he was used to this kind of reaction toward gojo. “don’t mind him,” geto said, his tone much gentler, “he likes to push buttons.”

“yeah, well, he’s not pushing mine,” you said with a shrug, refusing to let gojo’s attitude get to you. you weren’t about to be intimidated by some guy who thought he was untouchable. if he wanted to play that game, you’d play right back, with just as much sass and zero tolerance for his bullshit.

gojo laughed, a sound that was as arrogant as it was charming. he liked you. you were different from other people he’d met, and to say he was pleasantly surprised would be an understatement.

“oh, i like this one,” he repeated, his smile widening. “she’s not scared of me, suguru. it’s refreshing.” geto chuckled again, shaking his head slightly, “yeah, she's not intimidated by your god complex,“ he teased.

as the six of you strolled through the mall, browsing shops and occasionally stopping when something caught yuu’s eye, you couldn’t help but notice how geto and gojo kept glancing at you, their heads tilting toward each other as they whispered and smirked like they were sharing some inside joke. it was irritating, really—especially gojo, who seemed to be making it his personal mission to get under your skin.

you tried your best to ignore them, pretending to be engrossed in whatever store display was nearby, but you could feel their eyes on you, that smug energy radiating off of gojo like a beacon. he’d throw out little comments here and there, light jabs that were clearly meant to see if you’d react.

“so, what’s your deal, huh?” gojo suddenly said, breaking the conversation you were having with nanami about some new movie. he fell into step beside you, leaning in with that same annoying smirk. “you’ve got quite the attitude for a first year. something to prove, maybe?”

you rolled your eyes, not even bothering to look at him as you continued walking. “and you’ve got quite the mouth for someone who’s supposed to be ‘all-powerful,’” you shot back, keeping your tone casual but laced with a bite, “maybe try using it for something other than annoying people for once.”

geto snickered softly from behind, clearly entertained by your responses, while gojo just grinned wider, like he was enjoying every second of your defiance. “oh, come on, don’t be like that,” gojo said, pretending to pout. “we’re just trying to get to know you. you’re kinda fun when you’re not glaring at us.”

the entire time, yuu was stuck between looking like an excited kid in a candy store and watching the interaction between you and gojo like he was watching a tennis match. seeing someone stand up to gojo’s arrogance was a rare sight, especially for someone as much younger as you.

nanami, on the other hand, was simply exhausted by the whole thing, his eyes narrowed as he looked at gojo and muttered something that sounded like ‘annoying prick.’ while gojo continued his verbal banter, geto quietly watched.

“yeah, fun,” you muttered, your patience wearing thin, “or maybe i just have a low tolerance for bullshit.” gojo laughed, the sound loud and obnoxious, drawing a few stares from passersby. “guess we’ll just have to see how low that tolerance really is,” he teased, nudging geto, “bet i can make them snap by the end of the day.”

you stopped walking, finally turning to face him with an unimpressed look. “oh, please,” you said, voice dripping with sarcasm. “if you think i’m gonna lose my cool over some smug, overconfident special grade who thinks the world revolves around him, you’re in for a long day, gojo.”

for a split second, you thought you saw a flicker of surprise in his eyes, but he quickly covered it with another grin. geto chuckled again, nudging gojo as if to tell him to ease up. “looks like you’ve met your match, satoru.”

“yeah, yeah,” gojo waved him off, still smirking. “but that’s what makes it interesting, right?” you just rolled your eyes again, turning away from them to continue walking. if gojo thought he was gonna get the better of you, he was sorely mistaken. you weren’t about to give him the satisfaction of seeing you snap—not today, not ever.

by now, nanami was silently rooting for you not to let gojo get under your skin. yuu was practically vibrating with excitement, enjoying the spectacle like it was a circus show. and geto��geto was clearly entertained, barely holding back a smile behind his hand as he watched you brush off gojo’s attempts to rile you up.

despite your outwardly unbothered demeanor, gojo was not about to back down. he loved a challenge, and there was something about your attitude that intrigued him.

so he continued, throwing out more snide comments and subtle jabs.

YOU AND GAKUGANJI'S GUITAR

ever since that first meeting at the mall, geto and gojo had made it their mission to annoy you every single day. they always found a way to tease you or mess with you, and it felt like they had some kind of radar for whenever you were in a decent mood, swooping in just to ruin it. and it didn’t help that your classmates started hanging out with them more, dragging you into their chaos whether you liked it or not.

you’d tried to brush them off, but they were relentless—gojo especially, always throwing some sarcastic comment or smug remark your way, while geto would watch with an amused smile, occasionally adding his own little quip that was just enough to push your buttons. it was like a game to them, and you were the unwilling participant.

one afternoon, you’d finally had enough and decided to take some time alone, venturing into the forest to clear your head. you needed some peace, some quiet, and more than anything, a break from those two idiots who always seemed to find you no matter where you went. but it wasn’t just for relaxation; you were digging for something with a shovel in hand, trying to keep your mind focused and away from the usual annoyances. the quiet, the solitude—it was exactly what you needed.

you were deep into your task, almost losing track of time, when suddenly you heard a voice behind you—smooth and way too familiar.

“what’re you digging for, a body?” geto’s voice rang out, and before you could even register it, you jumped, letting out a scream as the shovel slipped from your grasp and clattered to the ground. your heart raced, and you whipped around to find geto standing there, his expression half-amused, half-surprised at your reaction. geto and gojo stood there, both grinning like they’d just won the lottery. gojo was barely holding back laughter, while geto wore that usual smug smile, clearly pleased with himself for catching you off guard.

“damn it, geto!” you snapped, pressing a hand to your chest to steady your breathing. “are you trying to give me a heart attack? what the hell are you doing here?”

gojo snickered, leaning against a tree with that same insufferable grin. “we were just taking a walk and saw you out here,” he said, clearly not sorry at all. “but now i’m curious—what are you digging for? burying evidence or something?”

you huffed, quickly realizing that your attempts to have a moment of peace were quickly being ruined by the two special grades who had a habit of making your life more difficult.

you crossed your arms, trying to regain your composure and glare at them defiantly, but your heart was still racing from being startled. “none of your business,” you grumbled, turning away to pick up the shovel.

gojo snickered again, leaning against the tree and looking like he was enjoying himself way too much. “aww, no need to be so defensive,” he teased. geto’s eyes flicked to the electric guitar lying on the ground near the hole you were digging, and he immediately recognized it. a smirk tugged at his lips as he leaned closer, arms folded casually.

“is that gakuganji’s guitar?” geto asked, his tone filled with amusement.

your movements froze instantly, your back still to them, slightly bent over as you were mid-dig. the tension in the air shifted, and even gojo raised an eyebrow, the smirk on his face growing wider as he realized the significance of geto’s question.

you let out a frustrated sigh, your gaze darting between geto and gojo as you tried to keep your composure. the shovel felt heavy in your hand, and you shifted uncomfortably, suddenly very aware of how ridiculous this all looked.

“it’s not his guitar,” you said, forcing yourself to sound casual despite the nervous tremor in your voice. you avoided eye contact, focusing on the ground as if it held the answers to your predicament. “i—uh, I just found it here.”

geto raised an eyebrow, clearly not buying your story, while gojo’s grin grew even wider, clearly relishing the situation. “oh really?” geto said, his tone skeptical. “just found it, huh? out here in the middle of nowhere?”

gojo let out a barking laugh, unable to contain his amusement any longer. "oh, this is rich," he snickered, clearly enjoying your obvious lie.

geto chuckled softly, shaking his head in disbelief. “seriously? you really think we’d believe that?” he said, his tone dripping with sarcasm. “out here, in the middle of the forest, you just happened to stumble upon the esteemed gakuganji’s prized guitar?”

gojo leaned against the tree again, still snickering. “nice try, but you’re gonna have to do better than that.” you scowled, feeling your patience snap as gojo and geto continued to mock you. their laughter and disbelief were grating on your nerves, and you couldn’t hold back your frustration any longer.

“fine,” you snapped, turning to face them fully with a fierce glare. “it is his guitar. that old bitch was pissing me off today and i hate him, so i took it. happy now?”

a moment of shocked silence followed your admission, the duo clearly not expecting such a straightforward response.

gojo’s laughter faded as he stood up straight, his smirk becoming more intrigued than mocking. “seriously?” he said, his eyes flickering between you and the guitar. “you really took his guitar just to mess with him? that’s ballsy.”

geto stayed quiet for a moment, eyeing you with a mix of surprise and admiration. “you really don’t like being pushed around, do you?” you crossed your arms and scowled at the two of them, clearly fed up with their reactions but unable to mask your irritation.

“hey, he was a bitch, okay?” you snapped. “he’s just lucky i only took his guitar and didn’t yank out all those hairs on his face. i’ve got more patience than he deserves.” gojo's grin returned, wider than before, clearly impressed by your audacity. “damn, you really don't hold back, do you?” he chuckled.

geto chuckled softly as well, shaking his head with a mix of amusement and disbelief. “never a dull moment with you around,” he muttered.

you shrugged, focusing on your digging as if the ground was the most fascinating thing you’d ever seen. “yeah, well, some of us don’t have time for polite small talk,” you said with a hint of a smile. “i prefer getting things done, even if it means ruffling a few feathers.”

you gave them a quick glance before returning to your work, feeling a bit more at ease now that you knew they weren’t completely against you.

despite their initial surprise, gojo and geto chuckled, clearly enjoying your defiant attitude. they exchanged amused glances.

“ruffling feathers is an understatement, i think,” gojo said, leaning back against the tree again. “you're more like a tornado that just blows through everything in sight.”

geto nodded in agreement, his smirk softening into a smile. “but it's definitely entertaining.” gojo snickered, leaning against the tree once more. “feisty, rude, and unpredictable,” he noted. “you're definitely a unique one, that's for sure.”

geto chuckled softly, looking at you with a hint of admiration in his gaze. “looks like there's more to you than meets the eye,” he said, a small smirk playing on his lips. you rolled your eyes, feigning annoyance at their comments, but deep down, a small part of you was secretly enjoying the attention. it was the first time they'd actually given you a compliment—even if it was backhanded—and it didn't completely suck.

“oh, please,” you muttered, digging with more force than needed. “don't suddenly start being nice to me—it's weird.”

but gojo just chuckled, undeterred by your dismissive tone. “oh, we're not being nice,” he teased. “we're just stating facts.”

geto nodded in agreement, a smile still on his face. “like it or not, you've caught our attention,“ he said, his tone playful. “you're not easy to ignore, you know.” you turned to face them, your cheeks flushed with a mix of irritation and embarrassment. your glare was as sharp as you demanded, “what’s that supposed to mean?”

gojo shrugged casually, clearly enjoying the effect his words were having on you. “it means you're interesting,” he said with a smirk. “we keep an eye on things that pique our interest.”

geto leaned against a tree opposite to gojo, his arms crossed as he added, “and you, y/n, have definitely piqued our interest.” you felt your eyes widen, and your cheeks started to heat up as the realization sank in. “shut up,” you muttered, trying to sound annoyed but unable to completely hide the embarrassment in your voice.

gojo chuckled, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “aw, looks like someone's blushing,” he teased, his smirk growing wider.

geto's smile turned into a soft chuckle as he watched you try to brush off their comments. “it's cute when you get flustered,” he remarked, his tone light and playful. you grumbled under your breath, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks as gojo and geto’s teasing continued. their comments were starting to get on your last nerve, and you were done playing along.

“yeah, yeah, laugh it up,” you muttered, barely hiding your irritation as you turned away from them.

without another word, you took the shovel and, with a determined swing, cut the guitar in two. the sound of the wood cracking echoed through the forest, and you threw the broken pieces into the hole, your actions rough and deliberate.

“take that, you old bitch,” you mumbled to yourself as you covered the hole with dirt, clearly imagining it was gakuganji’s neck you were burying instead.

gojo and geto stood there, watching your dramatic display with a mix of surprise and admiration. they had expected you to be defiant, but your fierce determination took them by surprise.

as the sound of the guitar splitting echoed through the forest, they exchanged amused glances. gojo's smirk widened, while geto chuckled, clearly entertained by your boldness. geto spoke up first, his voice filled with amusement. "that was certainly a... unique way to say 'fuck you,' wasn't it?"

gojo watched you with a mix of fascination and surprise, his usual smirk softened by a look of genuine admiration. he could practically hear his heart pounding in his ears as he took in your fierce, unapologetic display. it was like you had turned the whole situation into a dramatic, personal statement, and it had a profound effect on him.

his eyes were fixed on your form, and he felt a rush of excitement that he couldn't quite ignore. for a moment, the teasing and playful facade melted away, replaced by a deeper, more intense emotion. the raw intensity of your reaction had hit him harder than he expected, and he was almost afraid you’d notice just how much it affected him.

gojo nodded absentmindedly, still caught up in the rapid beat of his own heart. “yeah,” he said, his voice quieter than usual. “definitely one for the books.”

geto's smile widened as he noticed the subtle change in gojo's demeanor. he saw the way his smirk faded into something more sincere and felt the shift in the air. he knew gojo well enough to recognize when something had piqued his interest, and your defiant display had certainly done just that.

he glanced at gojo, a knowing look in his eyes, before turning his gaze back to you. “careful, satoru,” he teased, a sly smile on his lips. “you're looking a little smitten over there.”

you noticed gojo’s reaction before you heard geto’s teasing remark. the slight pink in his cheeks and the way his posture seemed a bit more tense caught your attention. even though you couldn’t see his eyes behind the dark glasses, you could tell from the way his expression had shifted that something was definitely different.

you gave gojo a look of disgust, clearly unimpressed by his sudden change in demeanor. “seriously?” you said, your voice dripping with annoyance. “what’s wrong with him?”

geto chuckled, enjoying the fact that you had noticed gojo's unease. he loved to see his friend squirm, especially when it came to matters of the heart.

"aw, don't be so hard on him,” he teased. “he's just experiencing some... unexpected emotions, that's all.” gojo shot geto a dirty look, silently signaling him to shut up, but geto just snickered and ignored his silent plea.

you maintained your disgusted expression as you took in the interaction between geto and gojo. yhe way geto was teasing gojo and the evident discomfort it caused him only added to your irritation.

“weirdo,” you muttered, shaking your head as you tossed the shovel to the ground with a clatter. you turned on your heel and started walking away, clearly done with the whole situation and eager to put some distance between yourself and the bizarre scene.

as you walked off, you could still hear geto’s laughter behind you, but you chose to ignore it, focusing instead on finding some semblance of normalcy away from their antics.

gojo's eyes followed you as you walked away, his demeanor still a mix of surprise and mild mortification.

“great,” he muttered, his voice laced with annoyance. “thanks for that, suguru.”

geto just shrugged, his smirk still in place. “what? i was just being honest. it's not my fault you have a thing for the feisty ones.” gojo shot geto another glare, his cheeks still slightly pink. “shut up,” he muttered, sounding more embarrassed than angry.

geto chuckled again, clearly enjoying the situation a bit too much. “oh come on, don’t deny it. i saw the look on your face. you were practically swooning.”

“i’m not,” gojo retorted, his voice coming out more defensive than he intended.

“you are,” geto insisted, grinning widely.

“i’m not,” gojo said again, his tone more strained as he tried to maintain his composure.

geto’s grin only widened at gojo’s weak protestations. he knew he had struck a nerve.

“oh, come on. you can’t fool me,” he said, his voice dripping with mockery. “i know the look of a smitten man when i see one. and you, my friend, are wearing it loud and clear.”

TREE AND TWO PARASITE

you sat under the tree, savoring the shade and the cool breeze against your skin. the popsicle in your hand was a perfect escape from the relentless heat, and you eagerly opened the package, snapping the plastic off with a quick twist. the moment the cold, sweet treat touched your tongue, a satisfied moan escaped your lips, the icy chill instantly refreshing.

you leaned back against the tree trunk, enjoying your brief moment of peace. you were supposed to be training with yaga’s curse doll, but you couldn’t be bothered—combat practice was the last thing you felt like doing today. you were perfectly content to hide out here, enjoying your popsicle and the quiet, far from yaga’s stern instructions and that annoying doll.

just as you were getting comfortable, you heard rustling nearby, but you ignored it, too caught up in the bliss of your popsicle to care who might be approaching.

as you were lost in the bliss of your moment, the sound of footsteps approached, followed by familiar voices. before you could even react, gojo and geto appeared out of nowhere, their presence instantly breaking your peaceful escape.

you groaned in annoyance, already expecting some kind of teasing from them. but what you didn’t expect was gojo leaning down with that stupid smirk of his and snatching your popsicle right out of your hand. without a second thought, he put it in his mouth, his grin widening as he enjoyed the stolen treat.

“are you serious?” you snapped, glaring up at gojo, who was clearly pleased with himself. the audacity of it made your blood boil, and you could see geto trying to stifle a laugh beside him, clearly enjoying the show.

“come on, satoru,” geto chuckled, giving him a playful shove. “you’re really gonna steal a popsicle from her?”

gojo just winked, still savoring the cold treat. “what? sharing is caring, right?” he said, voice muffled slightly by the popsicle, as if that made his actions any less infuriating. your annoyance only grew as geto chimed in, clearly finding the situation hilarious. gojo’s cocky demeanor made you want to punch him in his smug face.

you crossed your arms, glaring daggers at him. “oh, come on,” you snapped. “that’s mine!”

but gojo just chuckled, shamelessly enjoying his stolen popsicle. “finders keepers,” he said through his smug smile, his fingers holding loosely around your popsicle.

you huffed, eyes narrowing at gojo as he shamelessly continued to enjoy your popsicle. the audacity was enough to make your blood boil, and you were done playing along with their annoying antics. without missing a beat, you reached over and snatched the popsicle right out of gojo’s hand, earning a surprised look from him.

“this is mine,” you said firmly, taking a deliberate lick of the popsicle as if to prove your point. “if you want one, buy it yourself.” your glare dared him to argue, and you could see geto stifling a laugh at gojo’s expense.

gojo couldn't hide his surprise at your boldness. he had expected you to protest and whine, not take back your popsicle with such determination. and the way you took a defiant lick, without a care in the world, was both irritating and admirable.

he glanced at geto, clearly annoyed at the amused look on his friend's face. gojo opened his mouth to say something, but geto beat him to it.

“oh, looks like she’s not messing around,” he teased, a wide grin on his face. you rolled your eyes at geto’s comment, not in the mood to entertain their teasing any longer. with a deep sigh, you finally turned your attention to them, still holding your popsicle like a prized possession. “why are you guys even here?” you asked, annoyance lacing your tone.

as they sat down, you noticed gojo positioning himself beside you—way too close for comfort. you didn’t even realize how close until your shoulder brushed against his. you flinched slightly, your personal space suddenly feeling invaded.

gojo, seemingly unfazed, leaned back casually, his shoulder still lightly pressed against yours. “what, can’t we just hang out?” he said with that insufferable smirk, as if he owned the world and everything in it.

geto leaned back against the tree, clearly enjoying the dynamic. “yeah, we figured you could use some company, y’know? since you’re so ‘busy’ running from training,” he added with a chuckle.

you shot gojo a quick glare, scooting away just a bit to reclaim some space. “if i wanted company, i wouldn’t be hiding out here,” you mumbled, taking another lick of your popsicle, as if to reclaim the moment they interrupted.

as you shifted away to maintain at least a hint of personal space, gojo’s smirk only widened. he chuckled at your attempt to distance yourself, clearly enjoying your stubborn defiance.

“aww, don’t be like that,” he teased, leaning in closer again. “you know you love our company.”

geto just chuckled and shook his head, finding the whole scene amusing. “he has a point, y/n,” he joked. “we’re pretty entertaining, you have to admit that.” you let out an exasperated sigh, rolling your eyes as gojo leaned in even closer, completely disregarding your obvious need for space. you turned your head, giving him a flat, unimpressed look before shifting your gaze to geto, who seemed all too amused by the whole situation.

“no, you two are not entertaining,” you snapped, your voice dripping with sarcasm. “if anything, you two are going to go down in history as the world’s biggest idiots.”

you took another defiant bite of your popsicle, savoring the cold sweetness while ignoring the way gojo’s shoulder brushed against yours yet again. gojo’s smirk morphed into a full grin, not at all bothered by your insult. in fact, he seemed to thrive on your defiant attitude. he leaned in even closer, his shoulder still pressing against yours despite your obvious discomfort.

“oh, wow. harsh,” he remarked, his voice dripping with amusement. “aren’t you just a ray of sunshine today?”

geto chuckled and chimed in, clearly enjoying the exchange. “yeah, you do seem a bit prickly today, y/n. what’s got you in such a grumpy mood?” you raised an eyebrow, fixing both gojo and geto with a serious, unamused expression. their teasing was getting old, and you weren’t in the mood for their games. gojo’s smug grin and geto’s easy laughter only fueled your irritation.

“seriously?” you said flatly, your gaze shifting between the two of them. “you two are the reason.”

you held their stare, refusing to back down or give them the reaction they were fishing for. “maybe if you both found something better to do than annoy me every chance you get, i wouldn’t be in such a ‘grumpy mood,’” you added, your tone laced with sarcasm.

gojo chuckled in response to your flat tone, clearly loving the fact that he was getting under your skin. “aww, don’t blame us for your bad mood,” he said, his voice oozing with mock innocence. “we’re just here to brighten your day.”

geto chimed in, his smirk mirroring gojo’s. “yeah, we’re just spreading a bit of joy and cheer.” the two of them chuckled at each other, obviously enjoying the effect they were having on you.

you rolled your eyes, thoroughly annoyed by their nonchalant attitude. “yeah, because being a major pain in my ass is such a great way to spread joy and cheer.”

gojo’s smirk only grew wider at your biting remark. he found your feisty side downright amusing. “oh, come on. you know you love it when we annoy you.” geto chimed in, clearly enjoying the exchange. “yeah, your grumpy little huffs and eye rolls are the highlight of my day.”

gojo chuckled, his smirk still firmly in place. “and don’t forget your adorable little scowls,” he added, his voice filled with mockery. you let out a heavy sigh, your patience wearing thin with their constant teasing. “so annoying,” you mumbled under your breath, leaning back against the tree with an exaggerated roll of your eyes.

despite your words, there was a small part of you that didn’t mind their company as much as you pretended to. but admitting that, even to yourself, was a hit to your pride that you weren’t willing to take.

you crossed your arms and stared up at the sky, trying to ignore the way gojo’s presence lingered too close, and how geto’s laugh seemed to fill the space around you. it was frustrating how they managed to worm their way into your day, no matter how hard you tried to keep your distance.

gojo chuckled at your mumbled complaint, not buying your exasperated act for a second. he had known you long enough to catch the subtle hints that you weren’t as annoyed as you were trying to appear.

he leaned in even closer, his shoulder still touching yours. “aww, don’t be like that. you know you love having us around.”

geto chuckled at the exchange, clearly enjoying the back and forth between the two of you. “yeah, admit it. we’re the best part of your day.” you couldn’t help but chuckle, a small, genuine smile tugging at your lips despite your best efforts to stay annoyed. you shook your head slightly, glancing between the two of them, their expectant faces so full of mischief and teasing.

“yeah, right,” you scoff, rolling your eyes playfully but unable to keep the warmth out of your voice. they both grinned, knowing they had managed to break through your defenses, even if just a little.

gojo and geto exchanged a knowing glance, clearly pleased with themselves for making you crack a smile. they knew they were slowly chipping away at your stubborn exterior.

gojo leaned in even closer, his arm brushing against yours. “see, you do like having us around,” he said with a smirk, enjoying the way he was able to get under your skin without even trying. geto chuckled and nodded in agreement. “yeah, we’re growing on you like a fungus.”

you rolled your eyes, trying to ignore the heat creeping up your cheeks as gojo leaned even closer, his presence both irritating and oddly comforting.

“please, shut up,” you muttered, turning your gaze away, but the slight upturn of your lips betrayed your attempt to seem unbothered. gojo and geto shared a knowing look, both of them clearly amused by your reaction. they could tell that you were trying to hide your feelings, but they weren’t buying it for a second. the way your cheeks blushed gave you away.

“aww, look at that,” gojo teased, his smirk widening. “our little grouch is blushing.” geto chuckled and nodded. “yeah, i bet she secretly loves our company.”

you let out a huff, deciding not to dignify their teasing with a response. instead, you shifted slightly between them, settling onto the grass and lying down with your back to grass. closing your eyes, you block out their smug expressions, feeling the warmth of the sun on your face.

“i’m going to take a nap,” you announced, your voice muffled by the wind. “be useful for once and don’t let yaga find me.” they can clearly see the exhausted in your face, the bag under your eyes. their heart softens as they take the sight of you between them, deciding to stop teasing you for a while and let you rest.

gojo and geto exchanged a brief look at your sudden change in behavior. they could both pick up on your exhaustion, the bags under your eyes all the tell-tale sign that you hadn’t been getting enough rest.

they both silently agreed to back off on the teasing for the moment, knowing you needed a break. gojo sat back a bit, giving you some breathing room, while geto settled on his back, resting his arms behind his head. “alright, get some rest,” gojo said, his voice softer than usual. “we’ll keep an eye out for yaga.”

the two of them settled into a comfortable silence, both of them quietly observing you as you laid between them, your eyes closed in exhaustion.

gojo quietly observed your sleeping face, taking in the way your features looked uncharacteristically relaxed in sleep. he found himself thinking, for a moment, how oddly peaceful you looked when you weren’t bickering with him.

geto glanced over at gojo, noticing the soft look on his face, and chuckled quietly to himself. he had seen that look before and he knew exactly what it meant.

[dresshistorynerd]

The Morrisian case against fast fashion

Today I discovered that H&M made a William Morris collection some years ago. The heath death of the universe can't come quickly enough. We can stop now. Satire is dead and we killed her.

It's not just the whole concept of H&M using William Morris' designs for their fast fashion which is insanity inducing, but also the critical response it garnered. Like sure, people did realize this is insane and there was a lot of think pieces about it at the time, but I read several of them and they all seem to still miss the point in spectacular way.

The basic premise of these think pieces go along the lines of: "Would William Morris spin in his grave with a speed of light because of the H&M collection of his designs? A difficult question indeed. William Morris was a complicated man. He wanted art to be affordable to everyone. Isn't H&M affordable? That kinda fits. Though probably he would have some concerns about H&M's practices."

On the surface - yes - but like in reality - fuck no. There's no nuance in this particular issue. He talked about many times what he though of the H&Ms of his time, the retailers selling poor quality industrially produced "fashionable" bullshit. We know exactly what he would have thought of H&M. Here's couple of quotes from his 1884 lecture "Art and Socialism", which makes it very clear.

"It would be an instructive day's work for any one of us who is strong enough to walk through two or three of the principal streets of London on a week-day, and take accurate note of everything in the shop windows which is embarrassing or superfluous to the daily life of a serious man. Nay, the most of these things no one, serious or unserious, wants at all; only a foolish habit makes even the lightest-minded of us suppose that he wants them, and to many people even of those who buy them they are obvious encumbrances to real work, thought and pleasure. But I beg you to think of the enormous mass of men who are occupied with this miserable trumpery, from the engineers who have had to make the machines for making them, down to the hapless clerks who sit day-long year after year in the horrible dens wherein the wholesale exchange of them is transacted, and the shopmen, who not daring to call their souls their own, retail them amidst numberless insults which they must not resent, to the idle public which doesn't want them but buys them to be bored by them and sick to death of them."

He is describing the birth of consumerism, which was taking form during his lifetime in the late Victorian Era, which fast fashion is the extreme logical conclusion of, and he fucking hated it. He specifically railed against endless consumerist products, which H&M is the perfect representation of. It was definitely not the art and beauty he believed everyone required and deserved. He makes the distinction often.

"Now if we are to have popular Art, or indeed Art of any kind, we must at once and for all be done with this luxury; it is the supplanter, the changeling of Art; so much so that by those who know of nothing better it has even been taken for Art, the divine solace of human labour, the romance of each day's hard practice of the difficult art of living."

"And here furthermore is at least a little sign whereby to distinguish between a rag of fashion and a work of Art: whereas the toys of fashion when the first gloss is worn off them do become obviously worthless even to the frivolous—a work of Art, be it ever so humble, is long lived; we never tire of it; as long as a scrap hangs together it is valuable and instructive to each new generation. All works of Art in short have the property of becoming venerable amidst decay: and reason good, for from the first there was a soul in them, the thought of man, which will be visible in them so long as the body exists in which they were implanted."

When he thought of popular Art he thought of the craftsmanship of the common people. The art people have made from useful everyday objects with skillful handicrafts. This is what he means by "divine solace of human labour". It's not reverence of Puritanical work ethic, on the contrary, it's the reverence of creation, of the earnest joy people feel when they get to express themselves through their creative pursuits. He certainly didn't believe in work for work's sake, work needed to be worthwhile and enjoyable. He summarized his own position on what labour should be thusly:

"It is right and necessary that all men should have work to do which shall be worth doing, and be of itself pleasant to do; and which should he done under such conditions as would make it neither over-wearisome nor over-anxious."

He urged his middle class audience to reject consumerism (the lecture was for a very much middle class atheist society):

"For I say again that in buying these things: 'Tis the lives of men you buy! Will you from mere folly and thoughtlessness make yourselves partakers of the guilt of those who compel their fellow men to labour uselessly?"

I think it's glaringly obvious H&M and fast fashion in general is what he would consider luxury. Rags of fashion that are just churned out and discarded without thought and produced by compelling people to labour uselessly. It's not popular art that's made by workers and craftsmen, who are able to express themselves through it. There's no agency for the abused workers in H&M's sweatshops, they are not expressing their joy of creation, they are simply labouring uselessly.

Morris didn't shame workers for buying affortable things even if they weren't Art with big A, because that's the problem he despised the whole economic system for, for taking away the popular Art from people, making it inaccessible, and selling back mass produced products with very little practical or aesthetic value. So I don't think he would have problem with people who can only afford fast fashion today. They are the victims of capitalism too, because Art has been taken away from them. But the idea that some of these think pieces had that perhaps the H&M's Morris collection can be good actually if you squint, that H&M has the capacity to bring the art and beauty Morris advocated for for the people, is level of stupidity that's hard to express in words.

Morris didn't believe anything made with exploited labour could be truly beautiful, truly art. In his 1879 lecture "The Art of the People" he put it like this:

"That thing which I understand by real art is the expression by man of his pleasure in labour."

The way I understand this, is that art is communication. Through it we communicate feelings, ideas and thoughts, that is it's purpose. So for that communication to work, for it to be imbued with message, the person making it needs to feel passion and love for it's creation. How can there be love and passion if the hands making the garment belong to a tired exploited worker who has no agency what so ever in their work and can only think about survival to the next day?

Beyond the fundamental exploitativeness of H&M and fast fashion, this collection would still get zero points on aesthetic values from Morris even with his own designs. Because the work itself was such an important part of art for Morris, good design was nothing without good craftsmanship. Good design in his mind was always relative and dependent on it's purpose.

"For everything made by man’s hands has a form, which must be either beautiful or ugly; beautiful if it is in accord with Nature, and helps her; ugly if it is discordant with Nature, and thwarts her; it cannot be indifferent." (The Lesser Arts, 1877)

Here when he says nature, he means the nature of the thing that is made - basically it's purpose and function - and the nature of the materials it's made from. Basically, the design must always be made to bring out the function of the art and the qualities of the material it's made from, not fight against them. This is because he believed handicrafts were uniquely suitable for expressing the love of creation, therefore superior labour, and to really bring out the qualities of the craftsmanship and enjoy the creative process, the design should be suitable for that craft. The other side, which was the joy of using and experiencing art, required the craft to be selected for the suitable purpose. Using poorly functioning furniture for example is not very enjoyable, nor is using clothing that's made from materials that are not suitable for the climactic conditions it's supposed to be used in.

H&M of course utterly fails in this. They use Morris' designs in fully unsuitable ways. They print patterns made for example for wall papers on poor quality fabrics with synthetics dyes they weren't made for. This line from one blog post I came across really got me: "Therefore, without cheapening the artistic value of Morris’ designs, H&M’s collection offers an unparalleled potential for accessibility to them." No. Fuck no. They do in fact cheapen Morris' designs in every single way possible. Literally this is atrocious.

Despite the popular depiction, Morris wasn't in fact against industrial machinery or industrial art even, or at least he wasn't once his views on art and politics matured. He did think technology was useful, but he thought the people should use industrial methods for the benefit of all, not be enslaved by the industrial machine.

"I have spoken of machinery being used freely for releasing people from the more mechanical and repulsive part of necessary labour; and I know that to some cultivated people, people of the artistic turn of mind, machinery is particularly distasteful, and they will be apt to say you will never get your surroundings pleasant so long as you are surrounded by machinery. I don't quite admit that; it is the allowing machines to be our masters and not our servants that so injures the beauty of life nowadays. In other words, it is the token of the terrible crime we have fallen into of using our control of the powers of Nature for the purpose of enslaving people, we care less meantime of how much happiness we rob their lives of." ("How we live and how we might live", 1887)

However, he thought that the designer should approach it the way they approached any craft, by designing for the strengths of the machine work.

"But if you have to design for machine-work, at least let your design show clearly what it is. Make it mechanical with a vengeance, at the same time as simple at possible. Don't try, for instance, to make a printed plate look like a hand-painted one: make it something which no one would try to do if he were painting by hand..." ("Art and the Beauty of the Earth", 1881)

He did use some machinery for fabric and wall paper printing, but he was very intentional about their use. Still his designs weren't made for the type of methods these modern H&M machinery uses and he did for example use natural dyes. Particularly insulting is that some of the H&M clothes are made from viscose, rayon made with viscose method. Viscose method is extremely toxic and is known to cause long term health consequences for the workers and the people in surrounding areas. This has been well proven knowledge for ages. William Morris' wall paper factory in the beginning used the typical method used at the time which involved arsenic, but once he learned this could pose risks for the workers, he changed the method. Many of the new synthetic dyes were toxic at the time, which is the major reason he so favoured natural dyes, known to not cause health issues for workers or pollute the environment.

The question many of these think pieces about the H&M Morris collection posed was, would Morris disapprove and should we care? The first part of that is very easy to answer. Yes. Of course Morris would disapprove. He is currently powering the whole of British Isles with purely the kinetic energy his grave-spinning produces. Should we care though? If you care about Morris' art, if you want to see more of that kind of art in this world, you should care. Morris' art is not about the superficial qualities. Copying his designs and aesthetics and styles, will only lead to hollow imitations, that are exactly what he described the rags of fashion to be; as the shininess of novelty wears off they will reveal themselves to be soulless, useless and utterly empty. This collection is just that. To see more of the kind of art that makes you feel like his art makes you feel, not just something that reminds you of that feeling, you should focus more on the way the art is made and less on the specific aesthetics. If his vision of labour and art was realised, all art produced of course wouldn't be loved by every person, but all of it would be loved by someone, even if that someone was just the maker. And that would be more worthwhile than every single rag of fast fashion.

I will stop William-Morris-posting now and return to my thesis.

The full texts I quoted here:

Art and Socialism The Art of the People The Lesser Arts How We Live and How We Might Live Art and the Beauty of the Earth

[kaybreezy3000]

The Boy A Five Hargreeves / Female Reader Insert

Created for an Anon request (rated mature for explicit sexual content)

Warnings: 18-yr old Five, Lots of Smut, Five being soft and also not, CIA setting but with none of the other things happening from season 4

Anonymous asked:

will you do one or just some scenes with Five being soft with a girl he's falling for? Like first kiss stuff or other more intimate things between them? Or any stuff with him letting his guard down for someone for the first time- not with Lila please. Explicit or not explicit. Anything like this. Ty:⁠-⁠*

(For those of you who are awesome and have read all my stuff before this little smut filled story, you might notice some similarities in this one to some things my 16-year-old version of Five went through in 'Number Five and the Girl.' No worries this is much different, but I thought I'd mention it because so much of what I've written already could have filled this request, so I borrowed some ideas from hot little moments I'd sort of done before to add some fun to this Five's adventure.)

Note~This quarter end treat is broken into 5 parts of smutty progression-Your Welcome😂

The Boy

Part One: The Push

Like you had been for the last two months since Five had been assigned as your mentor and you started training with him, there you were, attached at the hip.

Walking down the hall towards your room at the CIA training facility, instead of him treating you to his endless cold glares and his usual lines of belittling bullshit, Five didn’t seem to mind as much that he’d been paired with you. Today, he seemed more than okay with it as indicated by the way he had been eyeing you up like he wanted to do much more than spar with you while the other recruits made jokes about you kicking his ass.

After asking him if he’d like to come back to your room so you could change into something warmer and then go get something to eat together somewhere better than the CIA building’s cafeteria, like he’d never done before, Five followed you, but then he was hesitating at the threshold of your room.

Playing the gentlemen and your superior, you could tell that he wasn't going to budge, so you reached out and pulled him in, shutting the door behind him. Five Hargreeves was not the type to be led by anyone, and before this he had been acting like he loathed you, so him giving in so easily was very surprising, but also very encouraging.

You felt the tension building between you all day. On the outside, Five seemed calm and in control like always, but his eyes gave him away. The way he looked at you told you a much different story when it came to him wanting to keep things strictly professional.

Feeling braver, you started thinking.

Earlier, Five and the other agents were talking about how most altercations aren’t the type where you get to stand and face each other, and even worse, during the fight, you usually both end up on the ground where things get dirty. They all said you needed to practice more realistic scenarios, but Five, as your assigned partner, didn’t seem too keen on putting his hands on you in any way that may have been considered too rough. He also didn’t want to let anyone else touch you.

Finally giving in, to your shock, as Five braced himself behind you, directing you to get out of his chokehold, his embrace was more like that of a lover than an attacker. His soft breaths tickled your ear from behind as they cascaded down your neck. When he ordered you to drop to your knees, your mind going all sorts of places other than where it should have been, you did as you were told, throwing all your weight back into him.

Falling back, your body landing on top of him, he started laughing at you, and his laughter was almost just as alarming as his dimpled smile that had been charming you anytime that he had been willing to grace you with it.

You had just crushed him, almost elbowing him in the dick, but the thing worrying you wasn’t his nuts. You were falling for him.

On your walk back to the dorms, giving Five a hard time, you said, “Why not start practicing more realistic takedowns? Why are you handling me with kid gloves?”

Five gave you one of his adorable side smirks as he leaned in, whispering in your ear, “I can be harder on you if you really want, but I’d prefer to do that without an audience of assholes.”

Hmmm? You were alone now?

Five was looking around, taking in the general chaos that was the room you’d been sharing with one of the other trainees. His eyes stopped on your bed.

“Sorry. It’s really messy in here,” you said.

Five looked back up. “No, it’s not bad. Don’t apologize. You should have seen the messes my siblings made of things in the house I grew up in. This is nothing.” 

“Didn’t you say you had five brothers and one sister? That’s a lot of male mess going on. Where was it you said you grew up again?”

Five didn’t answer. Instead, he sucked in his lower lip, wetting it as he looked around again. He glanced over at the few things you were allowed to keep with you while in training. He swallowed. He was staring at you so intently. He was so hard to read sometimes, and this was definitely one of those times.

He seemed nervous and now you were too.

He cleared his throat as his lips turned up again. “I like working with you," he said, casually tucking his hands in his pockets. "A lot actually."

Five had no idea how handsome he was with those animated expressions of his, or how cute he was, awkwardly flirting with you. Not wanting to break the magical moment, you decided to flirt back.

“So, you wanted to see how I handle a little groundwork, but in private?” you dangled while raising both your eyebrows.

He shrugged his shoulders, tilting his head to the side. “It’s not a bad idea if you want to be able to defend yourself.”

Again, there was an air of the usual superiority in his tone that was so irritatingly him.

You scrunched your nose. “I think I can defend myself decent already, Mr. Perfect. I’m warning you now, I know how to get down and dirty. You are the one that’s the closeted softy.” You came forward, backing him closer to your bed as you moved your hand down his arm, your fingers brushing the underside of his left wrist.

Five visibly tensed, as if you’d touched him in a painful way, but there was no sign outwardly why that was. As you were looking down at the flawless patch of skin that seemed to be bothering him, he suddenly came back to himself. “You're allowed to believe that Mr. Softy crap, but it doesn’t mean you’re right,” he taunted, smiling back at you innocently.

Without warning, you pulled him closer. With a quick spin, you twisted his arm behind him, throwing all your weight into it, pushing Five on your bed.

He landed on your blankets face down, and you quickly leaped on top of him, pinning his arms behind his back to restrict his movement before he could retaliate.

“Impressive,” he huffed, laughing as he lay there, pretending to be vanquished.

Your victory didn’t last long, despite your best efforts. Five effortlessly ripped his arms free of your hold. Then he sprang up from the bed, sweeping you up with him before nailing you down on the mattress.

In one swift motion, he had you pinned with your arms above your head. He lay over you, forcing your legs wide with his knees.

“You always need to be alert," he scolded. "Things can change in the blink of an eye. If you let your guard down, you may find yourself in a position you don't want to be in."

The way he was schooling you, you knew he was genuinely trying to teach you something, but you were also surer than ever that he was testing you in a way that had nothing to do with your training.

“Oh, I don’t know about not wanting to be in this situation..." You gave him a playful wink, one you knew would fluster him. "The view isn't too bad down here. For all you know, I may have wanted to be in this position. Maybe it was all part of my master plan. Did you ever think of that, smarty pants?” 

Five’s cool smile melted into something feral looking.

All at once he secured both your wrists in one of his hands. Then he painstakingly slowly ran the fingers of his other hand down the sensitive underside of your exposed left arm.

“Oh FFffff! Five! Ss-stop that's, please sto-” you laughed and gasped, wriggling like a manic as you tried to escape.

He didn’t relent. His eyes darkened as he looked down at you. You had nothing on, but your cropped workout top and equally tight spandex shorts and he was in his usual gym clothes of athletic shorts and a black t-shirt. You’d been training together like that for hours, but now your lack of normal skin covering clothing was making this feel much different than if you’d been sitting together, with him helping you study while he was dressed in his signature three-piece suit and you in your more female version of business attire.

You were in your bed of all places, and that look in his eyes, and the feeling of him pressing himself on you the way he was!

He looked so unbelievably hot and there you were laughing so hard you could hardly breathe. “Seriously, that tickles!”

“Awww,” he drawled, while looking fake sorry for you. “Ever hear that saying, you reap what you sow? I felt you trying to get a rise out of me with those evil girl talons of yours. You made me look like a fucking idiot today on the mats when you dug your fingers into my ribs, and you know damn well what you were doing had nothing to do with self-defense.”

Your frantic pleas to make him stop only seemed to spur him on more, because after that, his hand danced along the length of your exposed side, then down your quivering stomach.

“Five Hargreeves…I think they are right, you don’t fight fair,” you accused in between breathless panting.

“Doesn’t matter if you fight fair. It only matters if you win.” The sultry tenor of Five’s voice as he leaned down, humming against your skin, only furthered your inability to think.

To add to your shock, he began peppering kisses along your shoulder, then up your neck.

Five was not affectionate. He was dangerously smart, aloof, and even scary sometimes, but with that maneuver, he’d just proved that there was more to him than the closed off, emotionless person he projected himself to be.

His gentle fingers trailed across your abdomen, sending shivers through your entire body. Perhaps feeling you struggling to hold yourself together, or maybe just because he was an arrogant shit, Five suddenly had to bury his loud burst of laughter into your neck, and with it, he let his nose brush against your skin in such a loving way it made you squirm all over again.

“Doesn’t really seem to bother you…me not fighting fair and all,” he breathed. He smiled against your neck as he brought his lips back down to your shoulder.

You were sure he said something else after that, but for the life of you, you couldn’t concentrate enough to register what it was, not when his teeth were lightly nipping at the bottom of your ear and his fingers were moving back up, his thumb grazing over the mounded fabric of your top.

As he let out the quietest moan from the feel of your breasts under his hand, you couldn’t help it either when your body reactively rocked up against him.

As soon as you did that, Five abruptly pulled back from his onslaught of kisses, his hand lowering as he attempted to shift himself so he wasn’t lying on top of you as much. He looked down, his expression unreadable as he sucked in a breath, as if needing the extra air to voice what was on his mind, but instead of coming out with it, he grimaced and looked away, seeming to think better of it. 

Your faces were still so close, so you rose up on your shoulders as much as he’d let you, clearing the gap. You quietly said his name, wishing he would just look at you again. It sounded like a plea, and it was.

Five’s lips collided with yours. He released your hands, while at the same time pivoting his weight on both his forearms so he could control how much of his weight he was pressing into you.

His kiss was urgent, and wild, and beautifully sloppy. 

He was becoming more and more agitated the more he let himself explore your mouth with his trembling lips. His breathing was becoming heavier, and you could tell he wanted to move his hips into your pelvis more than he was already rocking and digging them.

It must have felt so good to him as is though, because he was getting hard, and the young man, who for the last few months was never the type to show any sign of vulnerability, actually whimpered, and holy fuck was that hot.

Shocked by his own verbal moment of weakness, Five pulled away again, but just as fast, you placed both your hands on the sides of his face and steered him back. Kissing him softly, you let your tongue run along his lower lip.

He shut his eyes. His expression looked so pained. “We shouldn’t be doing this,” he whispered. “If you knew all the horrible things I have done, you wouldn’t look up to me the way you do.” He opened his eyes. “On top of all that, I am way too old for you.”

Sure… Okay. All this had to be because Five was just worried that he was your mentor and that this kind of relationship wasn’t something your superiors would be okay with. That made sense but…

You smiled, then said, “Oh my God, Five! Who says I look up to you? And I am older than you, you self-absorbed jerk, who apparently never bothered to read my bio.” 

With that and his exceptionally sour expression that followed, you started laughing at him, and about the entire situation because you were older. Only by a year, but really…

What was he talking about?

Five opened his mouth a few times while trying to figure out a retort, so you came at him before he could, pulling his bottom lip with your teeth with kittenish feistiness, and that seemed to rattle him like nothing else had so far, and it sent him coming back at you like a man being torn apart from the inside out.

After that, Five started to let his tongue and teeth explore more freely and it was clear that was something he had wanted to do, only like all of this, he hadn’t been sure of it being okay until you’d made the first move.

He always smelled good. You knew that before, but wow. Five tasted like what you'd think comfort would taste like if it had a taste; like the warmth of good coffee mixed with an old-fashioned dinner mint. He was the embodiment of pleasure, and his lean body was built to move in more ways than you’d seen him work it while in the gym when beating the shit out of the other much larger agents.

Having your hands free to do as they wished, you dropped them both down under Five as he lifted up just a little.

You let the tips of your fingers drift down the length of his tight stomach muscles, moving them with a feather-light touch. You inched them along slower and slower after you passed over his navel, going up under his shirt, following the thin trail of dark hair that led from there, down into his shorts.

Five's hands clenched in the sheets at your sides. Every muscle in his abdomen shuddered under your touch, quivering in anticipation as you played with the dangling strings that were meant to keep his shorts around his waist.

He pulled away from your kiss to catch his breath, burrowing his face against the side of your neck. “Holy Shit…” he breathed, in between his wet kisses. His body dropped lower, his torso falling flush against the heat between your legs for just a moment before he quickly readjusted his hips on the mattress next to you.

Before he could fully right himself by pulling back up on his elbows and roll away from you completely, you brought your hand back up to his neck, your fingers lacing through his incredibly soft hair. "It felt good. Don’t stop," you whispered.

Looking utterly broken; he began kissing your neck, moving upwards again as he simultaneously started to move his shaft against the side of your leg.

Five nipped at your ear harder than he had been before and the sensation had you digging your nails across his back, and that seemed to excite him even more. In a frenzy, he started to run his tongue along, first the shell of your ear, then anywhere he could get at.

That boy was good, and not just with a gun while at the shooting range. The ache between your legs was becoming more intense with each shameless thing he did to you.

When Five satisfied himself with marking your neck, he moved to your collarbone. It felt like he was studying every inch of you with his mouth, gauging your reactions as he went. He first kissed, then licked, then sucked gently along the rolling plains of your rapidly rising and falling chest. It felt so amazing that you had to dig your feet into the bed to contain yourself.

"Fuck," he groaned as he threw his leg over yours and repositioned himself fully on top of you.

You whined as his hardened length nudged between your legs, then cruelly moved away. Thankfully, the sound of your discontent seemed to make Five bolder, and he did it again, then moved his mouth lower, applying kisses along the edges of your workout top, playfully pulling it up with his teeth.

Your toes curled as you squirmed under him.

You were both oblivious to the world going on around you when suddenly you pulled your attention away from him because you thought you heard something. Five must have heard it too because all at once he stopped what he was doing. His entire body froze.

“Ahem,” coughed a voice from over Five's shoulder.

You leaned up, peering over him. Even before seeing her, you knew who it was.

“Hey…” you weakly offered your roommate. 

She was already smiling like a total goofball, and her expression grew bigger and happier as she took in the extent of your blushing state and that of your equally turned-on partner in crime.  

She mouthed, “Is that who I think it is?”

The slow shake of your head confirmed her suspicions. She cleared her throat obnoxiously, then said, “It’s about time you guys got past all your staring at each other with those disgusting puppy dog eyes.”

With his face still buried against your neck, Five let out the tiniest sound, like that of the sad little puppy she’d just compared him to, then he growled, “You have no idea what you are talking about because I have never looked at anyone like that.”

“Er, whatever you say… So, ah…sorry guys. I will just, ah…go,” your friend said as she jerked her finger and thumb back towards the hall, but she was still dawdling, enjoying the site of Five, laying there still as could be, trying so hard to pretend he wasn’t just busted while trying to dry fuck you like you were both horny teenagers that were still in high school.

“Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit, shit,” Five groaned, as he started moving off of you.

Your roommate was leaving at that point, but hearing Five's frustrated oration, she turned back around, shooting you a huge cat just ate the canary grin before quietly shutting the door behind her.

Next to you, Five tipped his head back as he stared up at the ceiling. It looked like he was praying it would fall on him.

He sighed exasperatedly. “Can’t I ever get a break?”

It was obvious Five was upset about getting walked in on because this could mean his job, but you also knew that he had to be upset because he’d just totally been cock-blocked, and if he hadn't been, you weren’t sure what would have happened or how far things would have gone. 

Thinking of the impressively engorged package he was dealing with in his gym shorts, you rolled over, facing him, your lower lip pouty. “Ah, yeah… So....that sucked,” you said, stating the obvious as you tried to suppress your giggle.

Five just stared at you and groaned again. By the look on his face, you were pretty sure he was ready to die, and you weren’t about to let that happen, so you were about to suggest a different kind of sucking, but first you thought you should address his other big concern.

“Hey, don’t worry," you said, laying your hand on his tensed forearm. "I swear she won’t say anything. She already knew I had a huge crush on you. Lots of girls here would die to be in my shoes because that would mean they would get to enjoy your scowls and contemptuous comments like I do.” You tried a reassuring smile, getting serious. “Really, she’s trustworthy.”

What you said seemed to help. At least it brought a smile back to Five’s tightly pursed lips.

“You are full of shit,” he shot back, not believing you, but about which part, you weren’t sure. “But I suppose it doesn’t matter,” he continued before you could insist that you weren’t lying about any of it. “If she says anything, I am done, but at least I got to hump you for three minutes, so that was totally worth throwing away five years of my hard work to get myself in this pathetically lame position that I’ve waited a lifetime to totally fuck up.”

He threw a hand over his face, then back into his chocolatey mess of hair.

Somehow, Five managed to sound both irritated, but also so funny, which was just one of the many things that made you like him so much. The light in his eyes was coming back and he hadn’t tried to touch you again. It was obvious your little moment with him was over, and he was doing his best to calm himself down, but something else seemed off.

You frowned, but you weren’t mad at all because you mostly understood why he’d said all that. You’d feel awful if he was let go because of you. Everyone knew that Five was amazing at his job. He was a bona fide genius the CIA had found at a very young age while he was crushing his studies to get through his PhD. His being a fully contracted agent in the CIA at so young was unheard of.

Compared to him, you were only there as an intern and had years ahead of you to actually get hired and prove yourself the way he already had.

Once you managed to control your brain again, you finally responded, and stopped staring at him like you wanted to be devoured by his perfect mouth.

You took your hand off his arm, then quietly said, “I suppose you’d rather not get lunch with me now?”

His eyes narrowed and he cocked his head in that way of his. “I suppose, it would be better if we didn’t,” he said with eyebrows furrowed slightly, indicating he was upset about something, but if it was about getting busted and potentially losing his job or something more, you couldn’t tell.

“That’s it then…? That is unless you want to stay," you offered, then purposely glanced at your bedding still bunched to his crotch. "You could show me a few more moves?” 

After a few seconds, Five cleared his throat and grinned, making your heart skip a beat. “We better not do that,” he said, then he looked away. “You go first. I just need a minute. I’ll lock your door on the way out.”

“Okay,” you replied, your heart sinking through the floorboards.

"Okay," he agreed.

He lay there on his side, head propped up on his arm, you threw on a baggy sweatshirt and some jogging pants. After covering yourself, you turned. “See you later?”

“Sure,” he said, still staring off as if you weren’t even there.

Chapter Two: 

Five Said No, But Morning Glory Says Yes

Right on que, Five woke up with his dick harder than an oak.

He was lying there on the couch in his office, having fallen asleep while working late. Back when he’d started at the CIA, not even done with college yet, he often did this, but that usually involved drinking too much then passing out.

That kind of behavior was nothing new for him, but he hadn’t done that in a while. Relieved that he didn’t have the brain throbbing start of a hangover nagging at him, he kept his eyes closed tight, like he could get his dick to go back to sleep if he willed it.

He tried to ignore it, he really did, but thanks to his physical age and the power of young guy hormones raging, his increasingly bothersome boner alarm proved impossible to turn off.

Taking a long, tired breath, then letting it out slowly, Five started mentally preparing himself for another wake and whack session to add to his already impressive record.

He couldn’t remember what he’d been dreaming about, only that you were together, and you were touching him down there or maybe he was touching you down there. Whatever it had been about, it didn’t matter, because once again, Five had woken up before he’d got off, and was ready to send forth his load into an innocent piece of clothing, only he wasn’t at home, so he’d have to find something else nearby to catch his mess instead. Anything would do, even destroying the shitty plastic tree someone had put on the floor next to his couch.

“Fuck that Ficus,” he breathed. 

His hand flexed, ready to spring into action and get this over with, and in doing so, it rubbed along skin that was not his own. To his shock, his arm was laying over something warm and alive, and that had him immediately realizing the pressure pressed up against his hard-on was not from the couch cushion or one of the pillows.

Five never would have admitted it unless he happened to be using it for his job as a cover story while trying to fit in with other lunatics, but like so often, he was having trouble differentiating between reality and fantasy.

Seeing as how he’d woken up on more than a couple of occasions unsure if his dreams or nightmares were real or not, he couldn’t blame himself for being confused, not entirely, not when the main player in his fantasies other than Dolores was right there squeezed in next to him.

His eyes abruptly focused, taking in his surroundings, confirming what he already should have known. You had both fallen asleep while he was helping you study for your next round of exams, and there you were with him, lying on the couch in the darkness of his quiet office.

He had no idea how he ended up cuddled next to you the way he was, and even though Five had thought about it about a hundred million times since the incident in your room, things hadn’t started back up the way they had that day. He believed it was for the best, and he’d said as much, and you’d respected it, but that didn’t mean it had been easy for him.

Just being around you, doing nothing even remotely flirtatious or sexual in nature was making the tornado of butterflies in his stomach worse each day that he fought to stomp them into submission. There was no denying that, or the perpetual case of blue balls he had from watching you sashay around him in your short skirts and blouses with the top few buttons undone as if daring him to dive into your cleavage again.

He had already touched those perky pleasure pillows, and he liked doing it way too much. Five liked everything about you. The way you challenged him even when he was being an insufferable jerk. The way you laughed.

Even more than all of that. Five loved the way you smiled at him like you didn’t smile for anyone else.

Being around you made him forget all the bad things that had happened, if even for just a while.

It didn’t matter. What he’d done was a mistake. Nobody could ever really care about him if they knew the truth, and you sure as hell wouldn’t believe him. You’d think he was crazy. He’d be fired and maybe even forced into psychiatric care.

It was better this way, but so much for his plan to shut this down, and so much for being good and keeping his hands off when you considered the situation he was in now. In hindsight, looking at the out-of-control horn-ball he had become in the last few weeks, Five knew that he should have scheduled a well-defined whack-off time as a part of his daily routine, then maybe this shit wouldn’t happen when he wasn’t expecting it.

When did I become such a perverted degenerate? he silently asked himself.

He remembered you reading, leaning back after a while, kicking your heels off. Sitting a few feet away, looking over a briefing Derek had given him earlier that day, Five waited for you to finish your review so he could quiz you again. He felt himself starting to doze off.

He remembered how comfortable he was with you there.

He just wanted to stay like that with you a little longer, with the smell of you filling his lungs, with you touching his things.

He vaguely recalled trying to keep his eyes open and noticing that you looked very tired too.

Now there he was with his hand in an area on you that normally he wouldn’t have dared let it venture. It was starting to come back to him each minute he was conscious, and he was almost certain that when he started to wake up, he was grinding his morning monster on your butt, and his hand was touching you between your legs in a very inappropriate way.

It wasn’t just a dream; he had been really doing that, maybe?

Fuck, fuck, fuck. Way to go, fucking creep, he mentally yelled.

He had no right to, but Five had you spooned to him like you were his, and if you were awake, you were definitely able to feel his predicament, and also what he had been doing to you.

He shifted his weight, moving just a little, trying to give you some space and maybe if it was not too late, also try to save some face.

Just as he began to pull his arm off, you started stretching your legs, your feet twisting around his.

“Is it morning already?” you complained.

The smell of your hair filled Five’s lungs again and the pressure from you pushing back against him had his eyes popping wide.

If he had his powers still, he would have blinked away the second he’d realized where he was. That wasn’t an option anymore, but the instinct to do it was still eating at him like a spark that kept trying to burst into a flame but couldn’t.

Five was panicking; he didn’t know what to do.

You shifted again, trying to move back, but he found he had nowhere to go. He was trapped between you and the back of the couch.

“I… Ah… It’s not morning yet. I’m sorry I woke you. I must have fallen asleep," Five stammered as he tried to sit up, using the arm under his small couch pillow to push himself up. "I’m going to just-"

You captured his hand as it started slipping over your hip. You pulled him back down and he found himself falling around you again, entrapped in the exact same position.

“You’re so warm, and your office is so cold. Please don’t go yet. I like you as my blanket,” you whined while pushing back, your firm curves warm against his even warmer erection.

Five went ram rod still at the same time you did.

“I am so sorry,” he quickly tried to say, but stopped at that because he found he had no words that would explain what he’d done. Instead, he forced out the pillow from under his head and then buried his face in it, hiding from his shame like a total jackass.

The clock on his wall ticked for what felt like an eternity, neither of you saying a word. You were clearly upset, weirded out, or God help him…Five didn’t know anymore.

Finally breaking the silence, you said, “Five, stop that. You don’t need to be sorry.”

Even though he was still under his shield, Five could tell by your tone that you were trying to console him. Of course, you were the one taking the highroad. Here he was the one almost 42 years older than you and you were the one being mature.

He took a deep breath, trying to clear his head, knowing he had to say something, but still not sure what would make the situation better.

“And to think," he started, "I was worried about what my boss would think if someone here found out about us and talked. It turns out I was worried about the wrong thing. This is so much more awkward than that." He groaned into his shame pillow.

Five felt you move, your hands landing on the throw pillow, forcing him to let go. When he finally had the courage to open his eyes, he was met with yours, and even though it was dark, he could tell you weren’t mad. You had turned your body towards him, your fingers already playing with the ends of hair at the nape of his neck.

Five felt like he was going to die, sure that he would if you didn’t stop touching him like that.

He was thinking about using his arm to cover his face instead of expiring. It was his only option since you’d thrown his pillow out of reach, but then he realized he may have needed more than just his arm to cover him because he could feel everything from his forehead to his chin burning bright red with humiliation. 

You grinned in that way he knew meant you were trying to hold back a laugh. “You know, Five... Nobody is talking doom and gloom about this other than you, and why do you think this is awkward?”

“Oh, I don’t know… because of Morning Glory here,” he joked, gesturing down to where the small throw blanket you had pulled with you had thankfully covered the area below his waist, but it didn’t really matter because he knew, and you knew, that he was still sporting a nice sized tent for the second time you’d been alone with him in a week.

You took claim of his hand, pressing a kiss to his knuckles, keeping your smile on for him. “Yeah…I don’t really think you can blame that all on it being morning. Unless that clock is wrong. It's not even midnight.”

You moved closer, and all at once, Five felt you press against the villain in his pants, and he let out a little puff of airy agitation in response.

“And this isn’t awkward. It’s flattering," you furthered, your sexy smile melting into something a bit silly as you added, “A healthy sexual appetite is nothing to be embarrassed about."

Your intentionally nerdy, sex ed teacher tone had somehow managed to sound even sexier than when you normally teased him, and holy fuck did Five love getting lectured by you like that.

The dirty old man in him that was thinking about spanking you for trying to steal his role as the teacher didn’t know what to say. You were obviously trying to make him feel better for his little predicament, but he still felt like a creep. Getting morning wood while sleeping next to an extremely hot girl that was way out of your league was one thing, but touching her in her sleep, like that… 

What the hell was wrong with me? That was not normal! Five privately scolded himself.

“I need to-" He didn’t finish, instead, Five swiftly pushed himself up, and as discreetly as possible made sure ‘woody’ was tucked down against his leg.

He started getting up, and you moved out of his way. He swung his legs to the floor and was about to stand, but he didn’t get any further than that because you quickly turned and swung a leg over his lap, your knees landing on either side of his torso, in effect, preventing his escape as your skirt flared out, covering his lap.

“Hey, not so fast. I am not mad at you, Five. I fell asleep too, so it’s not your fault. Maybe it happened again for a reason. I knew you were dreaming a few minutes ago, so don’t be freaked out about this or what happened the other day. It’s ok, I promise.”

Your fingers moved along his scalp, playing with his hair again. The look on your face was so sincere, but then it quickly changed to something more pensive and playful as you slowly licked your lip then continued. “And just so you know, even if you weren’t dreaming, I would have been ok with what you were doing. You can touch me however and whenever you want. I thought I made that known the other day. You were the one that said no more, not me.”

The more perplexed Five looked, the more devilish you looked. Your fingers dug in as they fell to his shoulders, pulling his dress shirt even tighter in your grip.

You leaned in and whispered in his ear. “I am so wet for you right now. I am more than ok with how that clever mind of yours works, but the question is, are you, and do you want me to stop trying to convince you how much I want you?”

The things you were saying and your soft breaths on his skin were making Five’s hands shake.

“Don’t stop,” he breathed, just as your lips brushed against his cheek and you began kissing him.

Both of Five’s hands latched on to your hips so fast it was like he wasn’t in command of his own body anymore. He felt like he needed something to hold on to, to ground himself, and his hole punch filled morals weren’t working.

It was so much all at once, with real lips on his, and you on his lap and the warmth of your sex so close to his painfully hard cock. Instead of thinking about how 'wet' you said you were, Five tried to distract himself by focusing on your mouth as it moved against his. You obediently opened for him as he urgently searched your lips with the tip of his tongue, pushing for entry. The second you gave, Five darted it inside, feeling the sweet, candy-like warmth that he was coming to know was simply the taste of you.

Beside himself already, Five moaned into your mouth.

Your tongue met his more excitedly after that, and you both pushed each other for more, hardly coming up for air.

You felt so good. What you were doing to him felt so good; it was like he was in another world, with nothing but the two of you.

It was like it was with Dolores, only not at all. That was survival. She was hard and cold. You were soft and warm. She was him, and you were…fuck.

Dolores knew him. You didn’t.

Like before, Five knew this was wrong, but his hands slipped behind you anyway, pulling you closer as his hips rocked underneath you.

In moments of desperation, Five had held Dolores in his lap like this, and done the same thing, only this was so much different. He could have lost himself completely in the feeling of you and been a very happy man, but his brain kept trying to reboot and intrude.

Even as his cock was getting a nice little ride, his brain was yelling at him to stop. 'Here you go again! This is so fucked-up, and this is obviously not going to help with your not so little problem, and what the hell are you doing? You’re going to ruin this for both of you!'

He pulled away, his breath coming way too fast.

“We shouldn’t do this… I…I can’t-” he whispered, but he couldn’t help it as he let his lips mark a path along your jaw, trying to repress his agonized growl with his kisses.

You weren’t buying it, and he wasn't doing a good job selling it. Seeing where your hips were, it was obvious he was more than capable of doing this.

You softly laughed, your breath brushing his skin as your hands explored, first unbuttoning his fitted vest, then untucking his shirt, making his entire body quake with the simplest of touch as your fingers crawled up, exposing him, one small button at a time. 

Not used to being touched like that, Five pulled back, dropping his head as he squeezed his eyes shut, trying to regain some composure. You weren’t having that either. You continued to caress his heated skin with your fingers moving dangerously close to his waistband.

Unlike him, your intentions were very clear as usual, but your voice came out raspy and sweet and questioning anyway, in total contrast to how you were so self-confidently seducing him. “Five?”

He hesitantly opened his eyes and looked up at you. Your cheeks were flushed, and your lips swollen from his kisses, your eyes full of worry.

“Why are you scared?” A crease appeared between your brows. “What you were doing was perfect and I want you to touch me like that. I wanted you to touch me all night,” you said, practically moaning your words.

Five was so fucking hard; it was almost more than he could take. All rational thought was gone.

When he came back up to meet you again, claiming your lips, you were ready and willing, tugging him closer with his loosened tie. Not satisfied with his state of undress, or with how you were so successfully dominating him, you quickly undid the knot and whipped the length of silk through his collar, throwing it over his head. You traced your nails down his torso with one hand and laced your fingers through his hair with the other.

Five met your advances, letting his hands float under your blouse, exploring the softness of your skin. When his fingers grazed just below your breasts, he stopped.

“Is this ok?” he asked with his mouth still brushing against your lips.

“Yes. God yes,” you whispered as you dropped your head back, moving yourself against him as he risked letting a finger glide over the lacey fabric of your bra. After a few more tentative touches, you made a soft whining sound. Five looked up, and the look you were giving him was so needy that it could have only matched his own. “They way you touch me…it’s like nobody else has ever touched me. Everything is different with you, Five. I don’t know why but it is,” you breathed.

Relinquishing his hold on your curvy hips, Five slid his hand up your back, proudly only fumbling a few seconds to get the clasp on your bra unhooked.

You let the fabric pull away from you so his fingers could slide under and caress your breasts.

Five leaned in, placing his other hand back on your ass as he buried his face against your neck. He wasn’t brave enough to take off your shirt the way you’d done to him, but this was plenty awe-inspiring anyway.  He relished your body’s reactions to him and the smell of your skin as he lay gentle kisses below your ear. 

Talking to himself in the way he’d spent a lifetime doing and couldn’t seem to break away from, Five asked, Why on earth have I been tormenting myself about this?

He had no answer to that, and Dolores, being not at all on his mind, didn’t chime in and give him any help like she normally did in his times of distress.

Five trailed kisses along your jaw and over your quietly gasping lips as you rocked your body against his cock. He continued to massage your breasts, stopping to feel your nipples as they grew harder, all seemingly because of his tender touch.

You moaned sweetly, letting him know you liked how it felt as he rolled the taut nubs between his fingers. Musing again, Five smiled while thinking that the only thing that would be better would be having his way with your tits.

Instead of doing that, he kissed your lips again. The hand Five had on the curve of your waist instinctively pulled you right up against him as his hips jut into yours. The sensation sent him careening, and he had to squeeze his eyes closed and think about something else or Chernobyl number two was going to happen in his pants.

The friction he had thought would help ease things, unfortunately only made it worse. His dick was so hard, it was throbbing in complaint as it lay trapped under his remaining layers of clothes. He could hardly breathe, and even more embarrassing, Five had just let out an animalistically guttural sound that had filled the entire office.

He would have been mortified that he’d done that, but when he opened his eyes, all he saw was your hooded eyes gazing back with no hint of judgment.

He didn’t even realize you had moved your hand from his chest until you were touching him, your palm cupping him tightly through his pants. Five swallowed hard, trying with everything he had not to move as you rubbed along his thigh where his dick had been trapped.

“Fuck-” he croaked out, then bit the inside of his cheek in an effort to be quieter in case there happened to be anyone else in the office working late.

“Do you want me to stop?” you asked.

“Please no,” he begged with his lips grazing your cheek.

You increased the pressure, and Five tried to pump himself up into your hand in response.

“Good, because I don’t want to," you said, then you leaned in, purring more assurances as you kissed along his throat and pulled at the top of his waistband with your other hand, loosening the inner clasp so you could zip his fly down and let your hand slide in.

As you very carefully pulled him free, positioning his erection up between you, Five cried out at the feel of you manhandling him. He had touched himself like that so many times, but with you doing it, it felt millions of times more extreme. His hand that had been toying with your breasts lost all function, other than to fall to his side, fisting the bottom of your skirt.

Your skin against his hard flesh had him seeing stars as you explored, running your palm down and up his entire length.

After getting more acquainted with what you were working with, you ran a finger over the tip of Five’s cock, doing that move to his glans, over and over. That of course made it harder for Five to think and breathe. You spread the wetness that had gathered there, smearing it under your tightened fingers, and by the time your hand wrapped around him even firmer, and you started to really move, the muscles in Five’s legs were quivering and flexing uncontrollably.

As you started jerking him off, feeling like he was having an outer body experience, Five dropped his head back, pinching his eyes closed.

He wasn’t thinking at all anymore. If you'd asked him his name, he wouldn't have been able to tell you.

“Harder-" he begged through clenched teeth.

Your hand obediently tightened.

There was nothing but the sound of wet skin, and sex, and the feeling that he wasn’t in control of any of it for the first time-ever.

Fuck. He was going to come already.

“Plea-” he desperately breathed, gazing up at your determined eyes. You sped up without him having to find the coherent words to ask for it, and he couldn’t help himself as he bucked, moving you with him as his hips repeatedly met your hand. “I am gonna cum-" he warned, but you didn’t stop.

His breath hitched, and his eyes closed again as his forehead fell against your chest.

Falling apart like he’d never done for anyone, Five began to spill.

“Fuuuuuuuuck!” he moaned, the ‘F’s’ repeating as spurts of his seed rocked his body.

Your hand slowed in pace with his erratic thrusts, but your fingers stayed around him as he rode out the final spasms of his release.

Five dropped his head back on the couch, totally drained.

You let go and slid your hand back up, letting the waistband of his briefs snap back in place when once you had him properly tucked in.

Now that it was done, Five wanted to fold in on himself and hide, to run, to…

He didn’t even know what he wanted to do. He could feel all his normal anxieties seeping back in way too quickly even though that had been unbelievable, and you were unbelievable and fuck...

When Five risked opening his eyes, he realized you had grabbed some tissues from the box on the side table and managed to catch his mess, so at least he didn’t make a total fool of himself in that way, or defile CIA property by splatter painting their stupid decorative plant. That would have been just great, blasting jizz all over that, or over himself and you in the wake of his inability to show even the slightest bit of restraint.

Someone was thinking; and it sure as hell wasn’t him.

“I am sorry,” he said, looking up at you regretfully.

You had been beaming at him happily, and to that, your face scrunched in confusion. “Why are you sorry now?”

How does one say sorry for that… Five wondered, then came up with an answer.

‘Ah…because I just blew my wad in your hand, and because I did it so fast, and because I didn’t do anything for you...and I shouldn’t be doing any of this anyway because of more reasons than I can count, and I can count really fucking high!'

Five couldn't bring myself to say all that. It wasn’t that he knew how to do the same thing for you exactly, but still, he knew he was supposed to reciprocate, and he’d watched plenty of porn over the years, so he could have at least tried.

Holy hell, he felt stupid.

“Oh no... There you go again. Five. When you get that look, I know it’s not good. For a guy that normally seems like you have the world by the balls, you worry way too much,” you said.

The urge to do something was there, but then you started to run your fingers through his hair again and Five couldn’t help the extremely relaxed feeling it was giving him, especially after what had just happened. He wanted to give himself over to it, and just like that, he did. He simply let go, letting himself feel every soft touch of your hand.

It felt like love, or what he imagined real love felt like.

He would have been completely at peace with the world at that point, but Five still couldn’t completely shake the idea that he’d messed up and that he never should have started fucking with you like this to begin with.

He dreamily gazed up at you, still not sure what to say. “That was... Fuck," he idiodically huffed, then tried again. "That felt so good. I’m sorry I didn’t-"

You cut him off with your pointer finger to his lips.

“Stop, Five. Just hush it with the apologies. If you’re worried about me, don’t be.” Your frown melted into a curious looking little smirk. “You looked like you couldn’t take much more, and watching you, like that... Let’s just say that was very satisfying and I am very glad you liked it. I may not have reached the same level of pleasure as you, but I enjoyed myself plenty." You tipped your head to the side, as if considering something.

“You’re not pissed about any of this?” he asked.

“No, absolutely not.” You gave him a sexy grin. “If you’re really worried about it, why don’t we make a deal? Next time we play around, you can call all the shots, and I’ll keep my hands to myself. I’m sure you’ll think of a way to repay me with that vivid imagination of yours.”

Biting your lip, you waited for him to respond.

Five was almost certain that you'd just given him an open invitation to touch you like he had been doing when he woke up and thinking about doing that had his now semi hard dick twinging with renewed excitement.

If he didn’t stop imagining that, then he would be fighting another massive boner, and the whole thing would start all over again. Hating himself for not being stronger than this, the voice in his head sang, Earth to Five… Do you even have a brain anymore or do you only think with your dick?

“Ok,” he agreed, breaking the silence with nothing more than a one-word answer.

He really, really did want to redeem himself, but he also needed to settle down because he could hear the wheels of Frank the janitor’s cleaning cart coming down the hall outside his door.

Knock, knock, knock…

“Shit,” Five cursed, shifting you off of him as he quickly started righting himself, zipping his fly, then quickly trying to button at least most of his shirt.

Frank tapped again as he was scrambling to pick up all the cummed on wads of tissue laying around on the floor. “You okay in there?” the older man called. “I came past earlier but…but I thought it might be better if I came back.”

“Just a minute,” Five called out, his eyes darting around the dimly lit office, seeing his tie laying over by his desk and your dress shoes laying at the other end of the couch. Your hair looked like you’d been rolling around in the hay with him, minus the hay. Realizing that his hair probably looked worse, Five also remembered struggling to keep quiet, but failing horribly. “Fuck,” he cursed, turning around, his vest flying open as he frantically tore his hands back through his messed-up man mane, only making his less than tidy cut look even worse.

As you calmly picked up your stack of books and the case files Five had kindly let you use for your essays, frowning, he looked back at you from his reflection in the small mirror hanging by the door. The way he looked only made your hardly stifled giggles even louder.

Nice going boner boy. Very smooth and so fucking tactful! he thought, while rolling his eyes at himself.

Coming up behind him, you leaned in and kissed his cheek, quieting his troubled thoughts as if you held some kind of otherworldly magic over him.

Five shut his eyes, again letting you make all the moves. He cleared his throat, then he opened the door, doing his best to offer Franke a curt-looking smile and wave him inside, so he could do his thing.

“Evening, Frank.”

The white-haired janitor looked from Five to you, his mustache quirking just a little.

Hand pushing deep in his front pockets, Five moved aside, coming out into the hall, letting the older looking man and you move past. “Before tomorrow, make sure you read over the notes I gave you on the importance of situational awareness, or there’s no way you’re going to pass,” Five called after you, trying to sound as pompously dick-ish as he normally would.

Turning back, you flipped him the bird.

Five smiled.

Watching you disappear down the hall, he promised himself this was the last time he was going to let you get the upper hand.

If he was doing this, which he evidently was, then he was going to start showing you exactly who he was. Then, maybe you’d get that he wasn’t who he appeared to be, and you’d do what he wasn’t strong enough to do, which was walk away and end this.

Part Two:  Five Said No, But Morning Glory Says Yes

Right on que, Five woke up with his dick harder than an oak.

He was lying there on the couch in his office, having fallen asleep while working late. Back when he’d started at the CIA, not even done with college yet, he often did this, but that usually involved drinking too much then passing out.

That kind of behavior was nothing new for him, but he hadn’t done that in a while. Relieved that he didn’t have the brain throbbing start of a hangover nagging at him, he kept his eyes closed tight, like he could get his dick to go back to sleep if he willed it.

He tried to ignore it, he really did, but thanks to his physical age and the power of youthful hormones raging, his increasingly bothersome boner alarm proved impossible to turn off.

Taking a long, tired breath, then letting it out slowly, Five started mentally preparing himself for another wake and whack session to add to his already impressive record.

He couldn’t remember what he’d been dreaming about, only that you were together, and you were touching him down there or maybe he was touching you down there. Whatever it had been about, it didn’t matter, because once again, Five had woken up before he’d got off, and was ready to send forth his load into an innocent and unsuspecting piece of clothing, only he wasn’t at home, so he’d have to find something else nearby to catch his mess instead. Anything would do, even destroying the shitty plastic tree someone had put on the floor next to his couch.

“Fuck that Ficus,” he breathed. 

His hand flexed, ready to spring into action and get this over with, and in doing so, it rubbed along skin that was not his own. To his shock, his arm was laying over something warm and alive, and that had him immediately realizing the pressure pressed up against his hard-on was not from the couch cushion or one of the pillows.

Five never would have admitted it unless he happened to be using it for his job as a cover story while trying to fit in with other lunatics, but like so often, he was having trouble differentiating between reality and fantasy.

Seeing as how he’d woken up on more than a couple of occasions unsure if his dreams or nightmares were real or not, he couldn’t blame himself for being confused, not entirely, not when the main player in his fantasies was right there squeezed in next to him.

His eyes abruptly focused, taking in his surroundings, confirming what he already should have known. You had both fallen asleep while he was helping you study for your next round of exams, and there you were with him, lying on the couch in the darkness of his quiet office.

He had no idea how he ended up cuddled next to you the way he was, and even though Five had thought about it about a hundred million times since the incident in your room, things hadn’t started back up the way they had that day, and he believed it was for the best, and he’d said as much and you’d respected it, but that didn’t mean it had been easy for him.

Just being around you, doing nothing even remotely flirtatious or sexual in nature was making the tornado of butterflies in his stomach worse each day that he fought to stomp them into submission. There was no denying that, or the perpetual case of blue balls he had from watching you sashay around him in your short skirts and blouses with the top few buttons undone as if daring him to dive into your cleavage again.

He had already touched those perky pillows and he liked doing it way too much. Five liked everything about you. The way you challenged him even when he was being an insufferable jerk. The way you laughed.

Even more than all of that. Five loved the way you smiled at him like you didn’t smile for anyone else.

Being around you made him forget all the bad things, if even for just a while.

It didn’t matter. What he’d done was a mistake. Nobody could ever really care about him if they knew the truth, and you sure as hell wouldn’t believe him. You’d think he was crazy. He’d be fired and maybe even forced into psychiatric care.

It was better this way, but so much for his plan to shut this down, and so much for being good and keeping his hands off when you considered the situation he was in now. In hindsight, looking at the out-of-control horn-ball he had become in the last few weeks, Five knew that he should have scheduled a well-defined whack-off time as a part of his daily routine, then maybe this shit wouldn’t happen when he wasn’t expecting it.

That thought got him asking himself the question, When did I become such a perverted degenerate?

He remembered you reading, leaning back after a while, kicking your heels off. Sitting a few feet away, reading over a briefing Derek had given him earlier that day, Five waited for you to finish your review so he could quiz you again. He felt himself starting to doze off. He remembered how comfortable he was with you there with him. He just wanted to stay like that with you a little longer, with the smell of you filling his lungs, touching his things. He vaguely recalled trying to keep his eyes open and noticing that you looked very tired too.

Now there you were, his arm wrapped around you, laying over your hip, and his hand was in an area that normally he wouldn’t have dared let it venture. It was starting to come back to him each minute he was conscious, and he was almost certain that when he started to wake up, he was grinding his morning monster on your butt, and his hand was touching you between your legs in a very inappropriate way.

It wasn’t just a dream; he had been really doing that, or he was pretty sure he was.

Fuck, fuck, fuck. Way to go, fucking creep, he mentally yelled at himself.

He had no right to, but Five had you spooned into him like you were his, and if you were awake, you were definitely able to feel his predicament, and also what he had been doing to you.

He shifted his weight, moving just a little, trying to give you some space and maybe if it was not too late, also try to save some face.

Just as he began to pull his arm off, you started stretching your legs, your feet twisting around his.

“Is it morning already?” you complained.

The smell of your hair filled Five’s lungs again and the pressure from you pushing back against him had his eyes popping wide.

If he had his powers still, he would have blinked away the second he’d realized where he was. That wasn’t an option anymore, but the instinct to do it was still eating at him like the ghost of a spark that kept trying to burst into a flame but couldn’t.

Five was panicking; he didn’t know what to do.

You shifted again, trying to move back, but he found he had nowhere to go. He was trapped between you and the back of the couch.

“I… Ah… It’s not morning yet. I’m sorry I woke you. I must have fallen asleep," Five stammered as he tried to sit up, using the arm under his small couch pillow to push himself up. "I’m going to just-"

You captured his hand as it started slipping over your hip. You pulled him back down and he found himself falling around you again, entrapped in the exact same position.

“You’re so warm, and your office is so cold. Please don’t go yet. I like you as my blanket,” you whined while pushing back, your firm curves warm against his even warmer erection.

Five went ram rod still at the same time you did.

“I am so sorry,” he quickly tried to say, but stopped at that because he found he had no other words that would explain what he’d done. Instead, he forced out the pillow from under his head and then buried his face in it, hiding from his shame like a total jackass.

The clock on his wall ticked for felt like an eternity, neither of you saying a word. You were clearly upset, weirded out, or god help him…Five didn’t know anymore.

Finally breaking the silence, you said, “Five, stop that. You don’t need to be sorry.”

Even though he was still under his shield, Five could tell by your tone that you were trying to console him. Of course, you were the one taking the highroad. Here he was the one almost 42 years older than you and you were the one being mature.

He took a deep breath, trying to clear his head, knowing he had to say something, but still not sure what would make the situation better.

“And to think," he started, "I was worried about what my boss would think if someone here found out about us and talked. It turns out I was worried about the wrong thing. This is so much more awkward and damning than that." He groaned into his shame pillow.

Five felt you move, your hands landing on the throw pillow, forcing him to let go. When he finally had the courage to open his eyes, he was met with yours, and even though it was dark, he could tell you weren’t mad. You had turned your body towards him, and your fingers were already playing with the ends of his hair at the nape of his neck.

Five felt like he was going to die, sure that he would if you didn’t stop touching him like that.

He was thinking about using his arm to cover his face instead of expiring. It was his only option since you’d thrown his pillow out of reach, but then he realized he may have needed more than just his arm to cover him because he could feel everything from his forehead to his chin burning bright red with humiliation. 

You grinned at him in that way he knew meant you were trying to hold back a laugh. “You know, Five... Nobody is talking doom and gloom about this other than you, and why do you think this is awkward?”

“Oh, I don’t know… because of Morning Glory here,” he joked, gesturing down to where the small throw blanket you had pulled with you had thankfully covered the area below his waist, but it didn’t really matter because he knew, and you knew, that he was still sporting a nice sized tent for the second time you’d been alone with him in a week.

You took claim of his hand, pressing a kiss to his knuckles, keeping your devil-may-care grin on your rosy lips. “Yeah…I don’t really think you can blame that all on it being morning. Unless that clock is wrong, it’s not even midnight.”

You very purposefully moved closer, and all at once, Five felt you press against the villain in his pants with your thigh and he accidentally let out a little puff of airy agitation in response.

“And this isn’t awkward. It’s flattering," you furthered, your sexy smile melting into something a bit silly as you added, “A healthy sexual appetite is nothing to be embarrassed about."

Your intentionally nerdy, sex ed teacher tone had somehow managed to sound even sexier than when you normally teased him, and holy fuck did Five love getting lectured by you you like that.

The dirty old man in him that was thinking about spanking you for trying to steal his role as the teacher didn’t know what to say. You were obviously trying to make him feel better for his little predicament, but he still felt like a creep. Getting morning wood while sleeping next to an extremely hot girl that was way out of your league was one thing, but touching her in her sleep, like that… 

 What the hell was wrong with me? That was not normal! Five privately scolded himself.

“I need to-" He didn’t finish, instead, Five swiftly pushed himself up, and as discreetly as possible made sure ‘woody’ was tucked down against his leg.

He started getting up, and you moved out of his way. He swung his legs to the floor and was about to stand, but he didn’t get any further than that because you quickly turned and swung a leg over his lap, your knees landing on either side of his torso, in effect ambushing him, and preventing his escape as your skirt flared out, covering his lap.

“Hey, not so fast. I am not mad at you, Five. I fell asleep too, so it’s not your fault. Maybe it happened again for a reason. I knew you were dreaming a few minutes ago, so don’t be freaked out about this or what happened the other day. It’s ok, I promise.”

Your fingers moved along his scalp, playing with his hair again. The look on your face was so sincere, but then it quickly changed to something more pensive and playful as you slowly licked your lip then continued. “And just so you know, even if you weren’t dreaming, I would have been ok with what you were doing. You can touch me however and whenever you want. I thought I made that known the other day. You were the one that said no more, not me.”

The more perplexed Five looked, the more devilish you looked. Your fingers dug in as they fell to his shoulders, pulling his shirt even tighter in your grip.

You leaned in and whispered in his ear. “I am so wet for you right now, I am more than ok with how that clever mind of yours works, but the question is, are you, and do you want me to stop trying to convince you how much I want you?”

The things you were saying and your soft breaths on his skin were making Five’s hands shake.

“Don’t stop,” he breathed, just as your lips brushed against his cheek and you began kissing him..

Both of Five’s hands latched on to your hips so fast it was like he wasn’t in command of his own body anymore. He felt like he needed something to hold on to, to ground himself, and his hole punch filled morals weren’t working.

It was so much all at once, with real lips on his, and you on his lap and the warmth of your sex so close to his painfully hard cock. Instead of thinking about how 'wet' you said you were, Five tried to distract himself by focusing on your mouth as it moved against his. You obediently opened for him as he urgently searched your lips with the tip of his tongue, pushing for entry. The second you gave, Five darted it inside, feeling the sweet, candy-like warmth that he was coming to know was simply the taste of you.

Beside himself already, Five moaned into your mouth.

Your tongue met his more excitedly after that, and you both pushed each other for more, hardly coming up for air.

You felt so good. What you were doing to him felt so good; it was like he was in another world, with nothing but the two of you.

It was like it was with Dolores, only not at all. That was survival. She was hard and cold. You were soft and warm, and she was him, and you were…fuck.

Dolores knew him. You didn’t.

Like before, Five knew this was wrong, but his hands slipped behind you anyway, pulling you closer as his hips rocked underneath you.

In moments of desperation, Five had held Dolores in his lap like this so many times, and done the same thing, only this was so much different. He could have lost himself completely in the feeling of you and been a very happy man, but his brain kept trying to reboot and intrude.

Even as his cock was getting a nice little ride, his brain was yelling at him to stop. 'Here you go again! This is so fucked-up, and this is obviously not going to help with your not so little problem, and what the hell are you doing? You’re going to ruin this for both of you!'

He pulled away, his breath coming way too fast.

“We shouldn’t do this… I…I can’t-” he whispered, but he couldn’t help it as he let his lips trail along your jaw, trying to repress his agonized growl.

You weren’t buying it, and he wasn't doing a good job selling it. Seeing where your hips were, it was obvious he was more than capable of doing this.

You softly laughed, your breath brushing his skin as your hands explored, first unbuttoning his fitted vest, then untucking his dress shirt, making his entire body quake with the simplest of touch as your fingers crawled up, exposing him, one small button at a time. 

Not used to being touched like that, Five pulled back, dropping his head as he squeezed his eyes shut, trying to regain some composure. You weren’t having that either. You continued to caress his heated skin with your fingers moving dangerously close to his waistband.

Unlike him, your intentions were very clear as usual, but your voice came out raspy and sweet and questioning anyway, in total contrast to how you were so self-confidently seducing him. “Five?”

He hesitantly opened his eyes and looked up at you. Your cheeks were flushed, and your lips swollen from his kisses, your eyes full of worry.

“Why are you scared?” A crease appeared between your brows. “What you were doing was perfect and I want you to touch me. I wanted you to touch me all night,” you said, practically moaning your words.

Five was so fucking hard; it was almost more than he could take. All rational thought was gone.

When he came back up to meet you again, claiming your lips, you were ready and willing, tugging him closer with his loosened tie. Not satisfied with his state of undress, or with how you were so successfully dominating him, you quickly undid the knot and whipped the length of silk through his collar, throwing it over his head. You traced your nails down his torso with one hand and laced your fingers through his hair with the other.

Five met your advances, letting his hands float under your blouse, exploring the softness of your skin. When his fingers grazed just below your breasts, he stopped.

“Is this ok?” he asked with his mouth still brushing against your lips.

“Yes. God yes,” you whispered as you dropped your head back, moving yourself against him as he risked letting a finger glide over the lacey fabric of your bra. After a few more tentative touches, you made a soft whining sound. Five looked up, and the look you were giving him was so needy that it could have only matched his own. “They way you touch me…it’s like nobody else has ever touched me. Everything is different with you, Five. I don’t know why but it is,” you breathed.

Relinquishing his hold on your curvy hips, Five slid his hand up your back, proudly only fumbling a few seconds to get the clasp on your bra unhooked.

You let the fabric pull away from you so his fingers could slide under and caress your breasts.

Five leaned in, placing his other hand back on your ass as he buried his face against your neck. He wasn’t brave enough to take off your shirt the way you’d done to him, but this was plenty awe-inspiring anyway.  He relished your body’s reactions to him and the smell of your skin as he lay gentle kisses below your ear. 

Talking to himself in the way he’d spent a lifetime doing and couldn’t seem to break away from, Five asked, Why on earth have I been tormenting myself about this?

He had no answer to that, and Dolores, being not at all on his mind, didn’t chime in and give him any help like she normally did in his times of distress.

Five trailed kisses along your jaw and over your quietly gasping lips as you rocked your body against his cock. He continued to massage your breasts, stopping to feel your nipples as they grew harder, all seemingly because of his tender touch.

You moaned sweetly, letting him know you liked how it felt as he rolled the taut nubs between his fingers. Musing again, Five smiled while thinking that the only thing that would be better would be having your tits in his mouth.

Instead of doing that, he kissed your lips again. The hand Five had on the curve of your waist instinctively pulled you right up against him as his hips jut into yours. The sensation sent him careening, and he had to squeeze his eyes closed and think about something else or Chernobyl number two was going to happen in his pants.

The friction he had thought would help ease things, unfortunately only made it worse. His dick was so hard, it was throbbing in complaint as it lay trapped under his remaining layers of clothes. He could hardly breathe, and even more embarrassing, Five had just let out an animalistically guttural sound that had filled the entire office.

He would have been mortified that he’d done that, but when he opened his eyes, all he saw was your hooded eyes gazing back with no hint of judgment.

He didn’t even realize you had moved your hand from his chest until you were touching him, your palm cupping him tightly through his pants. Five swallowed hard, trying with everything he had not to move as you rubbed along his thigh where his dick had been trapped.

“Fuck-” he croaked out, then bit the inside of his cheek in an effort to be quieter in case there happened to be anyone else in the office working late.

“Do you want me to stop?” you asked.

“Please no,” he begged with his lips grazing your cheek.

You increased the pressure, and Five tried to pump himself up into your hand in response.

“Good, because I don’t want to stop," you said, then you leaned in, purring more assurances as you kissed along his throat and pulled at the top of his waistband with your other hand, loosening the inner clasp so you could zip his fly down and let your hand slide in.

As you very carefully pulled him free, positioning his erection up between you, Five cried out at the feel of you manhandling him. He had touched himself like that so many times, but with you doing it, it felt millions of times more extreme. His hand that had been toying with your breasts lost all function, other than to fall to his side, fisting the bottom of your skirt.

Your skin against his hard flesh had him seeing stars as you explored, running your palm down and up his entire length.

After getting more acquainted with what you were working with, you ran a finger over the tip of Five’s cock, doing that move over and over. That of course made it harder for Five to think and breathe. You spread the wetness that had gathered there, smearing it under your tightened fingers, and by the time your hand wrapped around him even firmer, and you started to really move, the muscles in Five’s legs were quivering and flexing uncontrollably.

As you started jerking him off, feeling like he was having an outer body experience, Five dropped his head back, pinching his eyes closed.

He wasn’t thinking at all anymore. If you'd asked him his name, he wouldn't have been able to tell you.

“Harder-" he begged through clenched teeth.

Your hand obediently tightened.

There was nothing but the sound of wet skin, and sex, and the feeling that he wasn’t in control of any of it for the first time-ever.

Fuck. He was going to come already.

“Plea-” he desperately breathed, gazing up at your determined eyes. You sped up without him having to find the coherent words to ask for it, and he couldn’t help himself as he bucked, moving you with him as his hips repeatedly met your hand. “I am gonna cum-" he warned, but you didn’t stop.

His breath hitched, and his eyes closed again as his forehead fell against your chest.

Falling apart like he’d never done for anyone, Five began to spill.

“Fuuuuuuuuck!” he moaned, the ‘F’s’ repeating as spurts of his seed rocked his body.

Your hand slowed in pace with his erratic thrusts, but your fingers stayed around him as he rode out the final spasms of his release.

Five dropped his head back on the couch, totally drained.

You let go and slid your hand back up, letting the waistband of his briefs snap back in place when once you had him properly tucked in.

Now that it was done, Five wanted to fold in on himself and hide, to run, to…

He didn’t even know what he wanted to do. He could feel all his normal anxieties seeping back in way too quickly even though that had been unbelievable, and you were unbelievable and fuck...

When Five risked opening his eyes, he realized you had grabbed some tissues from the box on the side table and managed to catch his mess, so at least he didn’t make a total fool of himself in that way, or defile CIA property by splatter painting their stupid decorative plant. That would have been just great, blasting jizz all over that, or over himself and you in the wake of his inability to show even the slightest bit of restraint.

Someone was thinking; and it sure as hell wasn’t him.

“I am sorry,” he said, looking up at you regretfully.

You had been beaming at him happily, and to that, your face scrunched in confusion. “Why are you sorry now?”

How does one say sorry for that…Five wondered, then came up with an answer.

‘Ah…because I just blew my wad in your hand, and because I did it so fast, and because I didn’t do anything for you...and I shouldn’t be doing any of this anyway because of more reasons than I can count, and I can count really fucking high!'

Five couldn't bring myself to say all that. It wasn’t that he knew how to do the same thing for you exactly, but still, he knew he was supposed to reciprocate, and he’d watched plenty of porn over the years, so he could have at least tried.

Holy hell, he felt stupid.

“Oh no... There you go again. Five. When you get that look, I know it’s not good. For a guy that normally seems like you have the world by the balls, you worry way too much,” you said.

The urge to do something was there, but then you started to run your fingers through his hair again and Five couldn’t help the extremely relaxed feeling it was giving him, especially after what had just happened. He wanted to give himself over to it, and just like that, he did. He simply let go, letting himself feel every soft touch of your hand.

It felt like love, or what he imagined real love felt like.

He would have been completely at peace with the world at that point, but Five still couldn’t completely shake the idea that he’d messed up and that he never should have started fucking with you to begin with.

He dreamily gazed up at you, still not sure what to say. “That was... Fuck," he idiodically huffed, then tried again. "That felt so good. I’m sorry I didn’t-"

You cut him off with your pointer finger to his lips.

“Stop, Five. Just hush it with the apologies. If you’re worried about me, don’t be.” Your frown melted into a curious looking little smirk. “You looked like you couldn’t take much more, and watching you, like that... Let’s just say that was very satisfying and I am very glad you liked it. I may not have reached the same level of pleasure as you, but I enjoyed myself plenty." You tipped your head to the side, as if considering something.

“You’re not pissed about any of this?” he asked.

“No, absolutely not.” You gave him a sexy grin. “If you’re really worried about it, why don’t we make a deal? Next time we play around, you can call all the shots, and I’ll keep my hands to myself. I’m sure you’ll think of a way to repay me with that vivid imagination of yours.”

Biting your lip, you waited for him to respond.

Five was almost certain that you'd just given him an open invitation to touch you like he had been doing when he woke up, and thinking about doing that had his now semi hard dick twinging with renewed excitement.

If he didn’t stop imagining that, then he would be fighting another massive boner, and the whole thing would start all over again. Hating himself for not being stronger than this, the voice in his head sang, Earth to Five… Do you even have a brain anymore or do you only think with your dick?

“Ok,” he agreed, breaking the silence with nothing more than a one-word answer.

He really, really did want to redeem himself, but he also needed to settle down because he could hear the wheels of Frank the janitor’s cleaning cart coming down the hall outside his door.

Knock, knock, knock…

“Shit,” Five cursed, shifting you off of him as he quickly started righting himself, zipping his fly, then quickly trying to button at least most of his shirt.

Frank tapped again as he was scrambling to pick up all the cummed on wads of tissue laying around on the floor. “You okay in there?” the older man called. “I came past earlier but….but I thought it might be better if I came back.”

“Just a minute,” Five called out, his eyes darting around the dimly lit office, seeing his tie laying over by his desk and your dress shoes laying at the other end of the couch. Your hair looked like you’d been rolling around in the hay with him, minus the hay. Realizing that his hair probably looked worse, Five also remembered struggling to keep quiet, but failing horribly. “Fuck,” he cursed, turning around, his vest flying open as he frantically tore his hands back through his messed-up man mane, only making his less than tidy cut look even worse.

As you calmly picked up your stack of books and the case files Five had kindly let you use for your essays, frowning, he looked back at you from his reflection in the small mirror hanging by the door. The way he looked only made your hardly stifled giggles even louder.

Nice going boner boy. Very smooth and so fucking tactful! he silently fumed while rolling his eyes at himself.

Coming up behind him, you leaned in and kissed his cheek, quieting his troubled thoughts as if you held some kind of otherworldly magic over him.

Five shut his eyes, again letting you make all the moves for him. He cleared his throat, then he opened the door, doing his best to offer Franke a curt-looking smile and wave him inside, so he could do his thing.

“Evening, Frank.”

The white-haired janitor looked from Five to you, his mustache quirking just a little.

Hand pushing deep in his front pockets, Five moved aside, coming out into the hall, letting the older looking man and you move past. “Make sure you read over the notes I gave you on the importance of situational awareness before tomorrow, or there’s no way you’re going to pass,” Five called after you, trying to sound as pompously dick-ish as he normally would.

Turning back, you flipped him the bird.

Five smiled.

Watching you disappear down the hall, he promised himself this was the last time he was going to let you get him.

If he was doing this, which he evidently was, then he was going to start showing you exactly who he was. Then, maybe you’d get that he wasn’t who he appeared to be, and you’d do what he wasn’t strong enough to do, which was walk away from this.

Part Three: Closeted Softy

One second you and Five were heading down the hall, making your way to the conference room where, in an hour, he was going to be delivering a class to other trainees on interrogation tactics, then the next, your head was spinning from how quickly Five had latched on to you and swung you around, pushing you inside a maintenance closet.

It was dark, but not completely because the light seeping in from under the door filled enough of the cramped space for you to see that a jug of industrial cleaner was sitting on a shelf, inches from your face.

Something behind Five jingled, like a set of keys or something else metal.The points of his dress shoes nudged against the tips of your toes as he moved in closer, pressing you against the wall, so you couldn’t get away. You started to open your mouth, but before you knew it, he crashed his lips into yours, silencing you.

As he pinned you in his embrace with his strong fingers digging into your hips, his kiss quickly grew deeper and more desperate, making your heart beat faster and faster. Then, suddenly, he broke away, peering at you with his striking green eyes full of the devil.

“My turn,” he said, his smile exposing more of his charmingly boyish dimple in the dim light.

His warm fingers started sliding up the length of your arms, an unexpected coldness tickling your skin as he went, bringing your hands together. The weight of his body pushing against you, Five recaptured your lips with his again, then he pinched his fingers around the metal rings he’d just sneakily slipped around your wrists, tightening the handcuffs that you had no idea he’d had with him.

“Five, wha-"

As soon as he had you strung up, the chain of the cuffs hung up on one of the hooks above your head that would normally be used to hang a mop or broom, Five’s hands moved down, pushing you into the wall even tighter. "No hands, remember,” he mumbled in way of explanation before biting down on your earlobe, his teeth stinging your flesh as he suddenly pinched your nipples through the fabric of your blouse.

You gasped in shock, feeling Five's breathily laughed sigh of happiness over it, then you felt his velvety whisper. "Was that good?"

“I think you know it was,” you breathed as you squirmed in frustration, wanting to touch him, to run your fingers along the lines of his handsome face, then down his lean frame, but able to do none of that as he peered at you through the darkness with a lopsided grin.

Five's eyes smoldered, the soft green glint in them nonexistent. Lowering his head, he started softly licking one of your nipples through your shirt, his saliva wetting the fabric so there’d be no way you could hide it when the door reopened.

“You regretting doing this with me yet?” he asked when he pulled away.

All you could do was let out the most pathetic sounding whimper, so he did it again, only this time smiling against your peeked flesh before he bit down, making your body crane up against his. That’s when he reached down between you, and started palming himself.

Five jerked his chin to the side and slowly swallowed, his Adam's apple moving accordingly while your eyes drank in the sexiness of his nervous tick.

All at once, abandoning his own need, his hands were sliding up your skirt, moving between your legs. His breath hitched as soon as he felt the heat of your desire for him wetting your satin underwear.

A growl crept up from inside Five’s throat as he pushed the garment aside, slipping it down your legs where it got trapped at your ankles, further proving how helpless you were. At the feel of his hand sliding down, you squirmed over the new sensation, but instead of giving you what you wanted, Five paused, letting the wetness of your arousal paint the tips of his fingers.

“Oh fuck, I fucking love this,” he breathed as if transfixed. That breathless declaration, along with the gentle movement of his fingers, softly and carefully stroking, hit you hard. You reactively clenched your thighs together as fresh wetness spilled between your legs.

You whimpered as he cursed again, and his finger started sliding a little harder.

You bucked against his hand because it felt so good. Equally moved, Five feverishly started kissing you, but his hand remained, lodged between your legs.

Trying to chase the gloriously erotic feeling he was giving you by feeling more of him, you tried to push closer to him, but he wouldn’t let you, dodging it by moving himself back out of your reach.

“MMmmmmfff!" you cried, breathlessly breaking away from his mouth. "Yes, Five, there!” you urged and panted, then you had to hold your breath because that was way too loud and his finger was moving just right against your clit and…”Ahhh-ah-Ffffiiiiiivvveeee!”

Standing there, his silhouette in his black suit only making him look all the more sinister, Five smiled so sweetly. “That’s it, say my fucking name.”

“Fffffuuu- Five, yeeeeeesssss,” you moaned, when his index finger moved harder and faster.

Your breathing was becoming more labored, and your heart was beating so fast it felt like it might explode. Your body was moving of its own accord, your hips helplessly wiggling against his hand. Unable to control himself, Five started to thrust himself against your leg. “Tell me you want me to fuck you,” he growled as your body rammed back against the wall from the momentum of his attack.

His index finger pushed through your folds, flirting with entering you before sliding back upwards, pressing into your clit with just the right pressure. The handcuffs dug into your skin as your back arched off the wall while he licked at your earlobe in long hot hungry swipes.

“Say it!”

“I want you to fuck me! Please, Five!”

Only furthering his claim on you, and proving none of this was in your control, Five bit down hard and sucked at the skin on your shoulder as his finger flew around your nub, gliding faster and faster in a semi-circle like motion, pushing upwards, then down with no mercy. 

You bucked and thrashed. “Yes, like that,” you frantically begged.

Five slowed his pace to a stop, denying you. 

He lifted his head, looking up at you appraisingly, then he slowly slipped his finger inside you. As it disappeared, your walls involuntarily clenched around it, and looking diabolically thrilled, Five moved his digit deeper inside you.

You moaned, so broken and quiet that it finally seemed to bring a little of that familiar light of worry to his eyes. “Does it hurt?” he quietly asked.

Lost in the feeling of him inside you, you shook your head.

Once your tightness could be felt along the whole length of his finger and his palm was pressed up against you, Five began to slowly move in and out to the same pace as his thumb swirling around your clit.

“Oh my god, Five,” you gasped, as your whole body struggled against his.

“Does this feel good?” he asked, determined to keep you talking as he angled his finger up, letting it drag, making you bucked up, proving that was a move worth repeating.

“Ff-fuck. Ff-feels so good,” your words trailed off as you pinched your eyes shut.

“Say that you are nothing but a little prick tease and all you want is my cock, or I’m leaving you in here and not coming back,” Five demanded, his voice sounding so low and cold.

You didn’t understand. You said nothing.

“Do it!” Five angrily hissed.

“I’m a prick tease and I want your cock,” you obediently cried.

Five pulled out of your warmth, then gently buried his middle finger and index fingers together inside you, doing it so slowly.

Watching you intently, Five gradually increased the pace and angle of both fingers. He moved them in and out, again and again, the soft wet rhythmic sound of him moving inside you, and your panting for more, driving his wrist harder and faster. Unable to stop himself, he pushed his mouth against yours, fighting to be inside you even more than he was, but soon his own breathing became too unsteady, and he was forced to pull away for air.

“Fi-ve....I am almost there… Plea-se don’t st-op!” Your teeth pierced the bottom of your lip as you closed your eyes.

“Look at me,” he demanded, and just like that you did. You were covered in a sheen of sweat, about to double if the cuffs hadn’t been holding you up and he looked like something dark had consumed him, something terrifying.

“Please…let me go so I want to touch you,” you said as you gasped and bucked against his hand, your wetness warmly slipping against his palm as his long fingers felt like they were touching your soul.

“Do this for me, like this, and it will be over,” Five lovingly urged, and that change in how he’d spoke to you and what he’d said confused you even more.

"Five!" you cried as his fingers abruptly changed pace again, violently slamming in and out of you.

Your legs all at once tightened around his hand and your insides began to clench around him. Your entire body tensed, then shuddered. You weren’t breathing at all for moments on end. When you did, it was strained, but Five’s fingers kept going at it hard, letting you ride out every moment of the orgasm he’d forced out of you. 

When the clinching sensation around his fingers gradually began to slow to where he could no longer feel it, Five finally stopped moving them. You went limp against him, breathing heavily as he let you drop your head to his shoulder. 

As he held you, you were letting out shaky noises of contentment, and you were sure by the way his hand trembled as he ran it up and down our back that he wasn’t feeling very steady either. You felt like you could cry it was all so much, but then, adding to your dismay, that was when Five pried himself away and you heard the sound of him starting to open his pants.

Opening your eyes, your entire body still pulsing in time to your frantic heartbeat, you were treated with faintest glint Five’s heartbreakingly infectious pale green eyes that never seemed to cease in their infinite power over you, that, and his long, hard dick in his hand as he slowly and methodically stroked it like a man that knew exactly what he was doing and didn’t care at all that he was killing you.

“You are so fucking beautiful,” he said while peering at you, still strung up, locked to the wall, unable to get away unless you screamed, ending all this madness of this for both of you.

Coming forward, the ends of Five's hair tickled your heated cheeks, his erection coming all the way to the height of your navel as he whispered in your ear, “Don’t worry. We’re almost done.”

Moving back so you could see all of it, his leisured motions as he massaged his cock, Five ran his hooked index finger round the tip, carefully spreading the moisture dripping out of him down his entire length, then he began to work himself in earnest, sliding his hand effortlessly over his shaft.

Just looking at him doing that made your insides throb all over again. Tiny shivers of satisfaction danced up your spine as a low growl resonated deep in Five’s throat.

The way he was looking at you as he pleasured himself spoke of so much without him uttering a word. There was a flicker in his eyes, something pained.

His breathing was becoming more labored as he gave himself over to the feel of his hand.

His thighs were tensed, holding him upright as the expensive wool fabric of his dress pants slouched to his knees. He was so beautiful.

“I’m- I'm almost there," he gasped. 

He came at you, whipping aside your skirt with his free hand, just in time for the milky white burst of cum that started to spill out of him. It spurt out, up onto your stomach, and between your legs, dripping down your thighs as he shuddered and grasped, erratically jerking his hand at his sensitive tip with the final jolts of his release.

When Five felt the final waves of tension in him ease to an end, he let go of his cock, but not before giving the thickly engorged length one final pump, that made his eyes fall shut.

Stumbling forward, he collapsed into you, shuddering all over again.

“Holy fuck,” he breathed while shakily wiping his forehead with his forearm.

“You can say that again,” you agreed as his face nuzzled against your neck.

Looking out of it, Five glanced down between you. Even in the darkness he could see what he’d done, his release glistening all over your body and clothes.

“That was not exactly what I meant to do to you,” he apologized, as he immediately reached over to the shelf, swiping a roll of paper down so he could start cleaning his cooling seed off your stomach and even some that had flung up between your breasts, leaving chalky stains on your black blouse that there was no way his efforts could remedy.

As Five attempted to erase the visible evidence of what he’d done, to you, his expression appeared to be a mixture of fascination and shame, and before seeing that look on one face, you weren’t even sure those two emotions could happen at the same time, but with Five, you were starting to realize anything was possible.

Throwing the soiled towels to the floor, he silently reached up, releasing you from your restraints. Still not letting you go, his warm fingers rubbed your wrists, so tenderly as he lowered your arms and pressed a soft kiss to your temple, everything about his behavior so unlike his urgent kisses and crazed demands from before. 

It felt so good to be worried over by him like that. He pulled you firmly against him, his chin resting on your shoulder. The hold he had on you felt possessive but also is heartbreakingly desperate as you both took in the uncertain afterglow of something neither of you could put to words.

After a few minutes, you tried to push away enough to look him in the eye, but the moment you did, Five turned away from you and popped the door open.

“Five, what’s wrong?”

Not answering you, he stepped out, then he stopped a few feet from the door and looked down at his shoes, with his dark hair falling over his face.

“Five, wait,” you snapped at him when he started to walk away again.

Mid-step, his hands clenched at his sides. “No. Go back to your room and change, then go straight upstairs and tell them you need to be transferred to another office,” he quietly said, then walked away.

Part Four: Not Five’s Dolores

You did go straight to your room like Five had told you to do, but you didn’t go upstairs and request a transfer. You ended up being late for the session Five was leading, thanks to having to change, and fix your tear-streaked makeup, and pull your head together enough to face him, but as it turned out, as the other trainees filled out of the conference room an hour later, he wasn’t even in there with them.

He'd bailed and another agent had led the class.

Over the next week, Five was nowhere to be seen, which meant you had no mentor and had to buddy up with your roommate and hers, a middle-aged guy who was not at all as easy on the eyes as Five, but at least he hadn’t ruined you. That was about the best thing you could say about Barry Carponelli and his questionable shirt stains paired with the oppressive smell of stale cigarettes that always seemed to be wafting off him.

Five did not smell like that. Five was…

Five was an asshole.

After another training session, sparring with Agent Smelly, you slung your gym bag over your shoulder, ready to be done with all of it.

“Hey, kid,” Barry called after you. You turned. “You know, before I came down here to teach you girls how to do more than those pansy ass moves Five is always doing in here with you, I heard someone say that smug little prick was finally back. If I took that many days off, I’d be fired. I have no idea why they put up with him. You’re better off without him,” he said, then plucked a smoke out of his pack and strolled past, leaving you filled with renewed purpose.

This wasn’t over until you said it was. Fuck Five.

Racing up the stairs to the admin offices, you went straight to Five’s door, just as his assistant Derek was coming out. “Is Five available,” you asked.

“No. He just left for the day,” the small statured blonde male answered, looking at you curiously. “Do you need me to leave him a message?”

“No,” you quickly replied, glancing at Five’s office door. “I think I left one of my notebooks in there the other day. Do you mind if I go in and look for it?”

“Go ahead,” Derek said, opening Five’s office door wide, making it clear he’d be keeping an eye on you.

Politely nodding your thanks, you went in, heading for the couch, but as soon as you heard Five’s assistant getting distracted by someone else, you darted for the desk.

Pulling on the drawers, you realized most were locked. “Shit,” you quietly cursed, looking around the clean surface of Five’s workspace, but then you saw it. Sticking out from under a paperweight that was shaped like an umbrella that had been turned backwards by the wind, you saw a piece of mail. It was personal. It was a bill with Five’s address on it.

You smiled. “Found you, you bastard.”

A few hours later, just before sunset, you were in a shady neighborhood that was not at all where you’d expected Five to live based on his job and his outward appearance being that of someone that looked like they had much higher standards than the rundown building you were standing in front of.

Going inside wasn’t much better. Since the elevator was broken, you had to step over countless piles of trash in the fire escape stairwell on your way up the fifth floor.

By the time you had gotten to his door, you were second guessing yourself.

Raising your hand to knock, you finally came to your senses. Confronting Five would do nothing to change what had happened. First thing in the morning, you would put in your transfer paperwork.

Then, just as you were lowering your hand and turning to leave, a tall curly-haired guy, several years older than you, or more, opened the door. He looked as startled as you, his eyes crinkling in the corners as he looked you up and down.

“Tell them, I am not coming, and stop coming over without calling first! I told you I am fine!” Five yelled from somewhere in the apartment.

Saying nothing, the stranger looking back at you as he stood there wearing the strangest poncho made of bubble wrap, lifted a finger to his lips, silently motioning for you not to say anything, then he came out.

Once he’d shut the door, he said, “Hi. I am Klaus, Five’s brother. And you are?”

You said your name, and just as fast, his eyes lit up. “Right… I thought maybe it was you…” He grinned. “So…” He pulled his lips to the side. “I suppose you were here to tell off that angry little shit rat in there?”

“I was, but I changed my mind.”

“Since I’ve heard all about you, and I’m sure Five has told you all about me and the rest of his wonderful family, and your plans have changed, and it looks like neither of us have shit to do now, would you like to join me for a stroll to this really nice smoothie place a few blocks away? It’s got the best add-ins, like lemongrass and all sorts of other healthy crap that really boosts the old immune system and keeps the reaper away.”

Five told you nothing about Klaus and almost nothing about his personal life that didn’t relate directly back to his work at the CIA. He’d used you to get his rocks off and that was that, but you didn’t say that because something told you this peculiar Klaus guy already knew that his brother was a first class asshole..

Opening your mouth to decline, Klaus must have seen it coming, so he stuck out his bottom lip. “Pretty please… This neighborhood is scary, and I walked all the way over here to check in on that grumpy old man child and he’s being such a dick head, and I know something’s up with him other than his normal lonely mopey thing, but like always, he won’t talk about it. He’s always shutting us out and I know he likes you and something happened and-"

Taking a risk, you cut Klaus off. “You know what, I am in the mood from some anti-grim reaper juice.”

Giving you a toothy smile because he’d totally got you, the next thing you knew, you were being escorted down the street by Klaus Hargreeves, with him babbling on and on about things that seemed so far out there that they should have been part of a science fiction comic book rather than about what it was like growing up as part of something he called, The Umbrella Academy.

Hours later, after confirming Klaus was not on hallucinogenic drugs, or drunk, or just plain out of his mind, you had heard an earful and then some. After everything Five’s brother had told you, about them all being born with superpowers, their horrible alien father who adopted them, their  lives going to shit, to them all being stripped of their pasts and powers and left to fend for themselves in this new timeline, you didn’t know what to think.

It was clear that Klaus believed all of it. And he was very interested to hear your version about what had happened between you and Five, and when he did, like you’d suspected, he was not at all surprised by it.

“You’re the only one he’s ever done any of that with, and I mean like the only one, other than his plastic woman relationship thing. Five is not the bad person he thinks he is,” Klaus said, just before parting ways. “He’s just been through hell and back, over and over, and sometimes, I think he gets stuck not knowing how to move on from all that, you know…”

You didn’t know. You didn’t know what to think about any of this. What he’d said happened to Five was so bad, it was on another level of awful and unbelievable. Nobody would be okay after that, no matter how strong they were.

Piecing together the strange things Five had said to you, things like him being older than he looked, and that he’d done unredeemable things, it made sense now, but still…

Wow.

You did your best to act normal and not too weirded out. You liked Klaus. Klaus was the kind of person that was hard not to like, but it was hard not to be very weirded out.

Saying goodbye after you’d made sure Klaus was only a few blocks from his sister’s house, well out of the dangerous area of town that Five lived in, you were left alone again with your thoughts going haywire.

It was late, almost past midnight. Not even thinking about where you were heading, soon you were back, looking up at Five’s building.

Questioning your sanity, you lightly tapped on his door.

He didn’t come.

You knocked again, only louder.

A whole minute later and after several more knocks, startled and swaying as he flung his door open, Five blinked his eyes rapidly at you as if trying to clear his vision.

You looked down at the half-drained liquor bottle in his hand and the fuzzy dog slippers he had on his feet. To match his look of disheveled drunkenness, Five was wearing nothing but a dark blue bathrobe that came to just below his knees.  

“This was a very bad idea,” you said, under your breath, already turning to go.

Five’s voice cracked as he said your name. “…Please come back. I didn’t mean to-”

He wiped at his eyes.

Five took a small, very defeated looking breath. “I tried to leave you alone, but I just..”

“You just what?” you asked, coming back when he didn’t finish, stopping right in front of him with your fingers tapping at your hips.

Five held your accusing stare but just barely. “I just… I don’t deserve you and you could do a million times better than me.”

“Why because you’re a 63-year-old, ex-temporal assassin who’s stuck inside the body of an eighteen-year-old asshole who’s got his panties in a twist because he can’t teleport anymore?”

Forcing himself to stand up straighter even though it was clear that he was a drunk mess, Five swallowed, his face looking entirely serious. “Actually, we don’t call it teleporting. It’s called blinking, and you’re right, I can’t do that anymore, and if I wore panties, yes, they’d be in a twist about it.”

“Teleporting! Blinking! Five! What the hell difference does it make when I just walked into the twilight zone!”

Eyes wide, Five reached out, pulling you inside his apartment.

It was small, dimly lit, the furniture minimal. You could see almost all of it in just one quick glance. An outdated, beat-up kitchen on one side, two reading chairs next to an overflowing bookshelf made up his clean, but tiny living area. There was a bedroom door filled with darkness off to your left. Everything was old and used, but cozy looking. It was exactly the kind of unassuming hideaway you would have expected the extremely traumatized person Klaus had told you about would feel safe.

It was the embodiment of Five: the old man who’d cared about everyone else, but had given up on himself, and the innocent boy who’d been used and abused, who would never be able to stop fighting and hoping for a chance at something better.

“Do you believe it? Everything Klaus told you?” Five asked, looking at you with glossy eyes.

“I do.”

“Then why are you here?”

Pointing to the chair you were pretty sure Five had been sitting in based on the way the other looked like nobody ever sat in it, you let out a loud exhale. “Sit,” you ordered.

Five turned and stumbled back to his chair, dropping down in it clumsily, where he proceeded to almost spill his liquor, then slumped like a sad child that had just been told to go sit in the corner.

Coming over, kneeling in front of him, Five tried to put his legs together before you could position your body in a way that prevented it, but he didn’t move at all fast enough.

“Not this is how it’s going to go,” you said, gripping his knees. “I’m going to ask you something and you’re going to tell me the truth. Do you understand?”

Five nodded.

“Do you have feelings for me?” you asked.

“Yes.”

“What kind?” you countered.

“The kind that I shouldn’t have.”

You shook your head and spread his knees farther apart, making his terry cloth robe spread, exposing the snow-white skin of his inner thighs. “Elaborate,” you pushed. From what you could tell, Five wasn’t wearing any panties, just like he’d said. He wasn’t wearing anything.

The line between his eyes deepened as he answered you. “I have the kind of feelings for you that make me wish I was someone you could love.”

Slowly, you started moving your hands from his knees, heading under his robe, stopping just shy of the danger zone. “You don’t get to decide how I feel about you, Five. I can think for myself, but if you decide to push me away, that’s on you.”

Again, he nodded.

“I like you, Five and that means the you that I thought I knew but then decided to fuck things up and make me cry my eyes out.” You smiled even though that made him look even more miserable. “And I like that frisky old man in you that you’ve been trying and failing to keep hidden. Both are good men even if they act like jerk offs sometimes.”

A tear slipped down Five’s reddened cheek.

“You say you don’t deserve it, but I think, from what I’ve heard, you deserve the world, Five Hargreeeves.”

Five looked down at his lap, holding his breath.

Very carefully, your hand moved over him, gathering the silky length of flesh descended between his legs, lovingly fondling him.

“You need to realize that it doesn’t matter what you’ve done, or what you’ve lost. You’re still worthy of love, and even if you weren’t and all that crazy shit your brother told me turned up to be some kind of dream I’d had in a moment of insanity while wallowing over you as I drank a delicious smoothie, I’d still want you. Even if you looked like the white-haired man grumping around up there in your head, I’d want you because under it all, you are sweet and kind and too smart for your own good and all kinds of scary sexy and I like all of that.”

As you relished in the feel of him getting hard, Five looked utterly defenseless even though you knew that was far from the truth. His tear-filled gaze was lazy and appreciative as he gazed at you, lying your heart out to him as you stroked his ego and his cock.

“Do you still want me?” you asked.

“Yes,” he replied.

You brushed aside the rest of Five’s bunched-up, funny old man robe, then came forward, resting your forearms on his warm thighs. Your hand tightened around his cock and kept moving as you looked up at him, his eyes looking droopy as his head rolled to one side.

“You don’t have to do-” Five started, but before he could finish what he was going to say, you were nuzzling him, your face at the crook of his leg and torso, tenderly kissing him there before you slowed your hand to a stop and licked the length of his dick, from the base to the tip, like it was the best thing you’d ever had in her face.

Five shivered.

Without hesitation, you started to suck, slowly running your tongue around and around the drip of translucent fluid that had already started leaking out of him.

“Mmmmm,” you hummed as you tasted him, the smooth pattern of your mouth moving over him, making Five grasp at his armrests as he tried and failed to bite back a broken moan.

Your contented humming continued as you let your tongue spread the wetness so you could push your mouth down, taking in more of him. Feeling the vibrations from your throat, Five’s head dropped back against his chair. He reached down with his left hand, shakily brushing your hair to the side so he could watch you sucking him off.

When your mouth met your fingers, you stopped working downward and began to move your head back up, never letting up with your tight lips or your tongue as it pressed along his length.

“Oh shit, that feels good!” Five whispered, his fingers moving through your hair as he very tentatively placed his hand on the back of your head. More soft curses came out of him on quickening breaths as you buried your nose in the small tuft of dark hair between his legs, taking him until your nose hit his pubic bone.

Gripping you tighter, holding you there and finding no resistance, Five deliriously questioned, “Are you sure this is okay?”

The second he let up, your head bobbed, your mouth making the most perfectly erotic squelching sounds as tears started to run down your red cheeks. Still, you didn’t stop.

The sight of him breaking you, but not, and you letting him do it, and the feeling of you loving him like this even at his lowest, sent what was left of Five’s restraint out the door.

Straining not to push you too much, Five’s hips started rocking upwards as you latched on to his upper leg with your other hand, supporting yourself as he pushed his cock deep, sending himself down your throat each time he rolled and fucked his body up into your mouth.

He was the one mostly dictating the speed and depth of each thrust, and the act was brutally degrading, but you didn't seem to care. Even the sound of you forcing your breaths through your nose was a turn on, and Five had to force myself not to say the string of dirty praises he had running through his head.

“I’m so... cl-close,” he stammered instead, in-between hardly contained grunts of the word fuck while forcing your head down and up again.

With his heels digging into the floor for leverage to lift him with each jerk of his hips, something in Five felt like it was shattering.

He took you all the way to the hilt again, holding you there until you started gagging and digging your nails into his leg. Then he did it again, and again.

Overwhelmed by what he was doing and how sick it was of him that he wanted to feel and see you struggle like that, in between thrusts, he let out sob like cries of thank you, and please, and fuck, and with those desperate words helplessly coming out of him, that deep seated feeling in his stomach that followed was impossible to ignore.

“I’m gonna come,” Five wept as he fisted your hair and frantically pumped himself in and out of your mouth as he began to ejaculate down your throat.

He kept incoherently moaning as his hips thrust in angry bursts of momentum.

When his body was done and his shudders had ceased, dizzy enough that the room felt like it was spinning, Five finally let go of you and you fell back on your heels, whipping at the line drool that had dripped from your mouth. You looked up at him, your nose a little runny and your eyes still wet, but somehow you still managed to smile for him and that broke Five even more.

Reaching out, Five ran his thumb across your cheek, collecting a remaining tear before his hand flopped to his side again. “I am so sorry for everything,” he whispered.

“I know,” you whispered back as you covered him back up, pulling his robe around him like he was helpless, which he was. When you walked to his bedroom and he didn’t follow because he was physically incapable at that moment, Five didn’t get to see your smile, but as you looked around in the dark at his boyishly blue quilt and saw the small, worn stuffed animal puppy dog lying on his bed, you knew once again that you weren’t wrong about him.

Snatching up a blanket that was neatly folded and placed by his pillow, you came back out, laying it over him.

Leaning in, you brushed Five’s hair from his forehead before you kissed his cooling skin, then you tiptoed away again. Turning back as you placed your hand on the doorknob, you saw him sleepily watching you, clearly wanting to say something, but like so often, not being able to find the right words.

“Goodnight, Five,” you said, then you left.

Part Five: Perfectly Wrong

The next day, the second you entered his office, Five rushed to the door, locking it, then he grabbed you by the waist, tugging you closer. “Where the hell have you been, I have been losing my mind up here,” he declared while lowering his head to yours, bringing your faces within a whisper's length. 

“I have been working, that’s why I’m here, remember?” You laughed then said, “I wasn’t scheduled to meet with you until afternoon.” You looked at the clock then smiled. “Which is right now.”

Five didn’t look satisfied with that, so you kissed him, then pulled away, leaving him cutely puckering at air with his dark lashes fanning his cheeks so handsomely.

“For a man that once could control time, you seem very confused about how it works,” you teased.

“No shit. If that isn’t the understatement of the year,” he smarted back while giving you an adorable smirk. “I am impatient, impossible to deal with, and so horny for you that they should lock me up to protect you. All that made me think you’d changed your mind about me, that or I’d dreamed you coming to my apartment last night to tell me off, but then, instead, I ended up getting the first blow job of my long pathetic life and finished that mind blowing experience by getting tucked into my recliner like the big baby invalid I am.”

“I didn’t change my mind about you, and you didn’t dream that. I still like you, and our totally taboo, mentor fucking with his student, scandalizing age gapped, dirty talking, panty wetting, dry humping, cry fest of a relationship we have. Speaking of my training and it being your job to see to it that I succeed, I can’t quite understand how things work around here as they relate to my future and what they expect out of me as a fully sworn in agent.”

“Oh...? You read the 3000 page mission statement, but you still need my help figuring that out?” Five offered back, playing along.

You leaned in and whispered hotly in his ear. “I do. Will you help me?” 

“I’d do anything for you,” Five breathed back, nudging your nose with his to make you smile as he peered at you through the strands of his hair that had just fallen in his face.

“Maybe you could lay it all out for me, right here on the top of your desk? Show me how you navigate all these complicated protocols and endless hours of typing up boring intelligence reports. With all the talking and writing up briefings, your fingers and mouth must get so tired. I know mine do. What then? What other tools do you have on you to get you through those super hard, long days?”

Five tipped you back on his desk, his hands moving down your back to support you until you were resting on your elbows. “As a fully sworn in agent, I steer myself around any obstacles in my way, ruthlessly and rudely ignoring anything and anyone that dares to get in my way.” He pushed the bulge forming in his pants between your legs. “When it comes to protocols, I throw them out the window and do what I want because I have never been good at following anyone’s rules but my own. And when I get tired of talking and my fingers get fatigued from all the typing, I say fuck it and really start breaking the rules and let my dick do the talking for me, proving why it was a very bad idea to make me your mentor and that I’m a huge pervert. Would you like me to elaborate on that?”

“Yes,” you said, burying your fingers in Five’s hair, using it as an anchor to draw his mouth to yours as you wrapped your arms around his shoulders while trapping him with your legs around his waist.

Sliding his hands under your bottom, Five pulled you closer to his need, brushing his face at your neck as he sucked on and kissed, his warm breaths tickling your skin.

“Tell me what you want. I mean it, I’d do anything for you,” Five insisted, all teasing aside, speaking into your skin as you gripped his firm backside and fooled around with his hair in that way he loved.

“Because you're a bad boy and I am a very bad girl, I want you to break all the rules with me right now,” you whispered. 

Five let go of your hips where his hands had been rhythmically tugging you against him.

“Jeez-us, fuck you are trouble,” he breathlessly hissed as you reached down and started undoing his pants.

Five couldn’t contain his groan as you pulled his dick out and started to rub him. You flashed him your teeth as you smiled, enjoying yourself immensely as he careened into your grasp.

Giving you the hardest look he could muster considering what you were doing to him, Five pulled your hands away, guiding them both back behind you so he could press them down on his desk, under the pressure of his palms.

“Leave them here,” he sternly ordered, though there was no holding back his amused smile.

You nodded while sucking in your bottom lip as you coyly looked up at him from underneath your lashes.

Once Five was sure you were going to stay put, he let go of your hands, then he pressed himself closer to you again while bracing you from behind with one hand, bringing the other between your legs, yanking your panties aside.

As his fingers slid inside you, you dropped your head back, watching him with narrowed eyes.

“You’re really all in?” he asked, knowing you were, only wanting to hear you say it again.

“Yes, Five. I want all of you,” you begged, as you looked down at his cock, then up at him distraughtly.

Gripping himself, Five slipped his fingers out of you, replacing them with the softness of skin on skin and the warm, girthy head of his cock, gliding it back and forth as he wet himself at your entrance, then prodded and rubbed against your clit, back and forth.

“Fuck me, you're amazing,” Five cursed, unable to contain it when he finally felt what it was like to do this with his bare cock slicked against a body that was warm and forgiving.

He rocked himself against you, marveling over the simple pleasure of it, and he could have probably been held rapt forever by just that, but you’d said you wanted it all, and fuck..so did he.

“Are we okay like this?” he asked, meaning without protection.

“Yes, please…fuck yes!" you moaned, and he swore the look on your face could have killed a lesser man.

Getting the go ahead, Five ran his cock through your folds again, making sure he was wet enough to enter you. Then, carefully, drawing it out with a slow steady motion, he started pushing himself into you. Your warm walls clenched around his rounded tip, fighting it, but you didn't tell him to stop, so he moved inside deeper, whimpering because it felt so good to finally feel what this was like.

With Five’s thick cock opening you wider than it seemed possible, you threw your head back, panting his name and assurances to keep going, forcing your body to accept him. Feeling your tightness quivering around his length, unable to contain himself any longer, Five slowly started to move in and out, watching your face carefully for any signs of pain.

Once it was clear that he wasn’t hurting you, he smiled darkly, then very lowly warned, "Be quiet, or I’ll give you a reason to get really loud and then we both will have to start looking for new jobs.” 

Immediately going faster, his hips thwacking against you harder and harder, Five leaned forward over you again, kissing the exposed area of your neck and upper shoulder. 

When you let out a loud gasp, his hand flew over your mouth, then he increased the pace and angle of hips, rolling them in and out, fucking to a softer rhythm that felt so fucking good and made him look even more like he was the God of fuck he was.

“You are so fucking tight. This feels so…fuck,” he breathed before whipping his head back, trying to get his hair out of his eyes. As if he wasn’t doing you just fine already, hoisting your legs up a little more, Five pulled himself out a little, attentively working his tip in a way that pushed upwards, increasing the pressure building inside you in a way that made your head rolled back on your shoulders and your legs around his waist go limp.

“Oh, fuck, Five, yes, like that,” you cried out from under his hand.

“I fucking love you so much,” he moaned back, his eyes on yours as he bore down on you.

His dick pumping back and forth inside you even faster, Five’s brain took a second or two to catch up to what he’d just said. Breaking out in a sweat, his hand coming off your mouth, letting you breathe, he suddenly looked horrified, but that was only until you began to wildly thrust yourself back against him, using your ankles by digging them into his back.

Your fingernails tore into his back through his vest and dress shirt as he pushed his tongue against yours.

Slipping farther and farther into subspace every time his cock barred inside you, the more intense the lightning storm inside him got. His thoughts had grown hazy, and all Five knew was he was in heaven. 

He was slamming into you, harder and harder, and all you could do was hold on, keeping yourself locked to him as you clung to the sides of his desk. You felt that sweet aching pressure down in your lower abdomen. Your back arched. You felt your heart pounding between your legs as Five began to come violently cum, his cock throbbing inside of you as he fell into stuttering movements, having been totally taken off guard by the intensity with how hard the height of his pleasure hit him.

The scent of his cum in the air, of sweat gathering on your bodies and the sound of your heavy breathing, the sounds of your lover’s kisses returning to your lips, urgent, insistent, desperate….

It was perfect.

Five didn’t stop working his hips, pulling his cock in and out of you. Bringing his hand between your legs, all it took was the slightest touch of his fingers getting into the game and a few more pumps of his hips, making his cum drizzle hotly out of you onto his desk and you were falling apart, your body trembling through your equally intense release.

Slowing to a stop, Five smiled into your neck, slowly kissing you as he ran his hand down your side. He didn’t want to pull away, but he also didn’t want to force you to stay like that, spread out with him heedlessly leaning between your legs. On top of that, he could hear Derek talking just outside his door.

After a moment more of proudly grinning over what had just happened, he pulled away.

“Are you sure about me?” he asked, uncertain, yet playing it like a joke, not so brazen and sure of himself when you weren’t withering against him.

“I am sure, and that was, holy fucking wow, Five,” you praised, as you reached out, tenderly brushing back a piece of his hair that had stuck to his forehead.

Five’s ego was quickly restored. You always knew exactly what he needed, when he needed it. It was as if you understood him better than he understood himself and you were ok with who he was even when he wasn’t.

“You are making this way too easy for me,” he pointed out. 

“I ah… I should probably go,” you said as you grinned at him, momentarily distracted as he looked down at your legs dangling around his. He was so fucking hot.

“Shoot,” he laughed, rolling his eyes to his ceiling, then back to yours. “I meant to show you that my mouth is good for more than delivering sarcastically slights and even better clever commentary. Maybe there’s still time,” he teased, hands moving under your legs as he lowered himself, about to throw your legs over his shoulders and bury his face between the mess he’d made between your legs.

Derek knocked on the door.

“Fuck,” he laughed, jumping up, swinging your legs together, whipping you upright like you weighed nothing. His jaw pumped in agitation but that didn’t change his massive smile. “As much as I hate it, we really need to save that lesson for another time. Not that I care if I get fired, it’s just…You know,” he rambled, racing to zip up his pants and tuck his shirt back in.

“Another time then,” you chirped as you scooted off his desk, your heels landing softly on the floor.

As Five went to the door, unlocking it, before Derek tried to open it and come in, you came up behind him, hugging him from behind, your cheek falling against his as he tried to turn back. “I love you too, Five,” you whispered, then let him go just as the door started to open.

Stepping past Derek, you looked over your shoulder at Five, and said, “Thanks again for helping me, ahh…with figuring all that out.”

“Anytime. That’s what I am here for,” Five replied, his hand running over his mouth to hide his wicked grin.

As Derek looked at him in question, clearly aware that something was up, totally smitten, Five took the file he was handing him, but his eyes remained glued to you.

“It looks like those few days off did you some good. Are you feeling better?” Derek questioned, as he looked over at the papers pushed off of Five’s desk that were now laying on the floor. He smiled. 

“Yes, much better,” Five breathed, coming to his senses, but only after you’d turned the corner, blowing him a secret kiss.

For the first time in his life, Five knew what it was like to feel the love he’d always longed for, and it was all because of you.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~As always, thanks for reading. Let me know if you liked this. ❤️~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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[theemporium]

[3.5k] luke hits the west coast for his first long roadie of the season with some unsettling feelings about leaving jersey for so long. who would have thought his biggest problem on the road would end up being looking at his caller id over the actual hockey games he was playing? (smut)

series masterlist

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hockey boy: u up?

Luke Hughes had never felt like more of a fuck boy than he did the moment he had sent the text—which was ironic when he was quite literally the opposite of a fuckboy.

He hadn’t even meant for it to come across that way. Genuinely, he did not.

Despite being officially in the NHL for over a month now, this was the first time Luke was going on a roadie across the country whilst wearing the New Jersey red on his back. Most of their away games had been in nearby cities, where they would maybe spend a day or two in another city before returning to Jersey. 

But this was the longest one yet—a full ten days in the west coast for games against San Jose, LA and Anaheim. 

He wanted to say it wasn’t a big deal, that he was used to the life of hockey taking him to new cities and states. But things were different in the NHL. The stakes were higher, the games meant more even this early in the season, things just felt a lot more intense.

But it felt stupid to confess as much to his brother or any of the other boys when he literally played in the playoff games last season, when the stakes were the Cup. 

However, Luke couldn’t shake off the weird intensity of the roadie. He played off Jack’s concerned looks with some bullshit excuse that he was tired, that he was just struggling to sleep these days. It didn’t wave away his older brother’s concern but it got him off his back for a little bit. It let Jack focus on a different concern and not the real reason (that felt borderline childish to admit) that he felt on edge about leaving Jersey for so long. 

And it meant that Luke was laying in the hotel room alone whilst Jack was out with some of the other guys on the team for dinner, embracing the one free evening they had before the game tomorrow against San Jose. 

He had flipped through a variety of shows on the tv and scrolled through endless apps on his phone before he gave in, his finger hovering over the send button before he clicked it.

It hadn’t even hit him how his text sounded until your reply came through a few moments later. 

cherry🍒: damn hughes

cherry🍒: you gonna ask me what i’m wearing next?

His cheeks instantly burned hot, something quite like embarrassment and awkwardness bubbling in the pit of his stomach. 

At least it was hard to focus on the upcoming games when he was too busy thinking about the quickest ways to flee the country and change his identity. 

hockey boy: absolutely not 

Luke’s fingers moved fast on the screen, already drafting up a second message when your reply came through. 

cherry🍒: rude :( 

cherry🍒: maybe I had something special on for you 

And that was enough to make his brain go blank, the sentence he was in the middle of typing long forgotten as he stared at the words on his screen. He almost felt guilty how quickly his imagination came up with images of you back on his bed, just like his birthday party, in something short and sexy and—

He almost dropped his phone on his face when it began buzzing in his hand, scrambling to sit up in his bed as he answered. 

“H-Hello?” He cleared his throat, his face burning warmer when he heard your laugh on the other side. 

“You sound a little caught off, Hughes,” you teased, lighthearted and playful. “Did I interrupt something?” 

“I—no!” Luke exclaimed, though something inside him relaxed when you laughed again. “I didn’t…I didn’t mean for it to come off like that. I swear. I just wanted to talk to you.”

“I didn’t think so considering it’s been five minutes since my last message and you hadn’t replied yet. Not really setting the mood there.” 

He shook his head, his lips twitching upwards. “So you’re saying you’re not wearing something special for me?” 

“Unfortunately not. Just some sweats and a hoodie.” 

“Hm,” Luke hummed before frowning, taking a quick glance at the time on his phone before he swore under his breath. “Shit, I didn’t wake you up, did I?”

You laughed and something in his chest tightened as he imagined the soft smile on your face as you did so. “No, I couldn’t get to sleep. I was just watching some random episode of The Vampire Diaries before you called.”

Luke blinked. “The what?” 

You fell silent for a moment. “Tell me you’re joking.” 

He paused as well before he spoke in the most unconvincing voice. “I’m joking?” 

“Forget watching it, how have you never heard of it?!” 

“I don’t know!” Luke defended weakly, shuffling back further against the pillows. “Is this your subtle way of telling me to watch it?”

“No!” 

He frowned. “No?”

“I want to watch it with you. I want to see your reactions.” 

Luke snorted but he didn’t disagree, something fond and warm bubbling in the pit of his stomach at your insistence. “Fine, deal,” he mused. “But it would have at least given me something to do.” 

“Wow, is Jack that boring of a roommate?” 

He laughed. “Nah, he went out with some of the other guys for dinner.” 

“You didn’t feel like joining?” 

“Not really,” he admitted. 

“How come?” 

“Just…didn’t feel like it,” he said, his fingers tugging on the drawstrings of his hoodie as the spiralling thoughts began to creep in again. Like a reminder he wasn’t just lying on his bed back in Jersey talking away to you on the phone, that he was actually on the other side of the country. 

And it seemed like you sensed his reluctance, the shift in his voice like he seemed distant and you wanted to pull him back in.

“So you try to sext me instead?” Your voice was playful and taunting and he could imagine the smirk on your face so clearly. 

“Shut up,” he groaned, his cheeks burning once again. “I didn’t—”

“You so did.”

“That was not my intention at all,” he retorted. 

“Damn, Hughes, didn’t take you for a phone sex kind of a guy?” 

Luke could only thank some superior being above that it wasn’t a facetime call, that you couldn’t see how bad he was blushing. “I am neither a sexting or phone sex kind of guy.” 

“Boo, it’s more fun than you would think.” 

His nose scrunched up. “I don’t know.” 

“Don’t knock it until you try it, Luke.”

…

Despite being in two very different states, Luke had found himself on the phone with you most nights of the roadie so far.

It wasn’t really a co-dependent thing, like Jack liked to tease him about when he caught Luke waiting for your message saying you were free to call after the game in LA. It was a similar feeling he had with his friends back in Michigan or his brothers, this strong urge to tell you things. He wanted to share it with you, he wanted to tell you about something stupid Jack did in the locker room or the weird drink Curtis smuggled him at dinner. 

And in turn, he wanted to hear about your day too. He wanted to hear about how the nice barista at the coffee shop on the way to work gave you a free cookie because she fucked up your order by accident. He wanted to hear about the way your upstairs neighbour had taken up tap dancing and seemed to only find eleven o’clock at night the most appropriate time to practise. He just wanted to hear you talk. 

Luke was at least self-aware enough to realise he was being a bit insane with the phone calls every night when he was only gone for over a week. But day six into a ten day roadie and he just kind of wished he was chilling on your couch when listening to these stories rather than a nondescript hotel room he shared with his brother with limited privacy. 

However, the phone calls had become such a routine over the last few days that he didn’t even think twice when he picked up his buzzing phone, answering and putting it on speaker as he walked towards his suitcase in only a towel. 

“Hey, I’ve been waiting for your call,” Luke said, an easy smile on his face as he quickly grabbed some clothes to change into after his shower. 

“Really? I didn’t realise you missed me that much. I miss you too, dude.” 

Luke froze, his eyes widening as he snapped his gaze back towards his phone. He quickly grabbed it off his bed, letting out a soft ‘fuck’ when he realised it was Ethan, not you. 

“Luke? You still there?” 

“Uh yeah,” Luke cleared his throat. “Sorry, I just came out of the shower. So, uh, what’s up?” 

“I caught the game, just wanted to make sure you were alright. Looked like a tough game but you were killer out there, bud.” 

He paused, his lips twitching upwards. “You watched the game?”

“Don’t sound so surprised, dude. The boys watch every game we can. Our boy is in the big leagues! We gotta support you.”

“I didn’t know,” he admitted, his chest tightening a little.

“We miss you on the team, gotta get our fix somehow,” Ethan joked, lighthearted and playful. 

And yet, Luke felt a wave of guilt wash over him. Despite flying out for his birthday party, he hadn’t really been messaging the boys back in Michigan as much as he should have. He knew they were also giving him space to settle into the NHL lifestyle and they were busy with classes and such, but his own surprise from Ethan calling confirmed enough that he needed to reach out more. 

“I miss playing with you guys too,” Luke confessed, and it was true. He loved the Devils and he loved living out his dream but a small part of him itched to be back on the ice with his UMich boys again. 

“Yeah but you never threw us around like that.” 

Luke let out a groan, ignoring Ethan’s laughs. “I didn’t mean to knock him over like that, it was just the momentum!” 

Ethan’s laughs only got louder. 

…

It was the night before the Anaheim game when Jack had all but bolted out the room, muttering something about hanging out with Trevor and that he would be back before dinner. 

In all honesty, Luke didn’t question it much. He just waved his brother off, saying he was going to have a small nap before he started getting ready for whatever restaurant Trevor had booked for them (assuring that it would fit their diet plan but Luke wasn’t convinced). Between the travelling and training on the road, Luke found himself more exhausted than he was from back-to-back games in Jersey.

And he genuinely was going to nap until his phone buzzed with a message from you and he found himself dialling your number before he could help himself. 

“A call already? You didn’t even give me a chance to try sexting you.” 

He rolled his eyes. “I don’t see what the point is.” 

“I like hearing you get all flustered and nervous.” 

“Yeah but it’s not really the same thing, is it?” He commented, running a hand through his curls before tugging his hood back over his head. “Surely it’s just a bit…awkward.” 

“It can be hot if you do it right,” you corrected him. “Personally, I think phone sex is better but it can be fun to sext too. Like a thrill, you know?” 

“Yes because nothing sounds sexier than talking about sex,” he mused.

“It’s not like that,” you laughed, shuffling around on the other side of the phone. “Think of it like…foreplay.” 

His brows furrowed together. “In what way?” 

“You aren’t together but you’re telling each other what you would want to do if you were. What you wish you could be doing. And you’re listening to it all, listening to them get off to your words.” 

Luke swallowed harshly. “It still sounds awkward.” 

There was a pause on the other side. “Yeah?” 

“Yeah,” he breathed out, shifting a little in his spot. “Wouldn’t it make more sense to facetime them and see them?” 

“It’s about using your imagination, Luke,” you hummed, sounding amused by his grasp on phone sex. “It’s about taking the scraps of what they tell you and letting your brain run wild with it.” 

He let out an unconvinced hum.

“Still sceptical?”

“Maybe.” 

There was a small pause before you spoke again. “You’re alone, right?” 

“Uh, yeah,” Luke nodded, even if you couldn’t see him. “Jack won’t be back for another few hours so—”

“So you can be a good boy for me?” 

His brain went blank.

“C’mon, Luke.” He could almost hear the smirk in your voice. “Remember what we said about words?”

“Yeah,” he let out a shaky breath. “Yeah, I can be…good.”

“I know you can, you’re always so good f’me,” you commented, so nonchalant and casual like your worlds didn’t make his heart beat a little faster. “Tell me what you’re doing right now.” 

“Uh,” he cleared his throat. “I’m lying in bed, talking to you. But you know that—”

“What are you wearing?” 

Luke glanced down at himself, the Devils branded hoodie and UMich sweatpants hardly the sexiest of outfit choices but he muttered out his response regardless. “Isn’t that the exact line you teased me about earlier?” 

“You telling me you’re wearing something special just for me?” 

He snorted, despite himself. “Hardly.” 

“That’s fine. You look better without anything anyway. A shame you’re all the way in California, would’ve been nice to have you all to myself.”

He gulped. “Is this where I use my imagination to guess what you’d do to me?” 

“If you want,” you said, laughing softly and it almost felt like you were right there beside him. “Or I could tell you how I miss hearing those pretty noises you make when you come, the little moans you let out when I touch you.” 

“Shit,” he muttered. “How do you just say those things so…easily?” 

“Because I know what I like and I’m confident with saying what I want. And I really like making you come, you’re always so sweet. You get so blushy and shy, it’s cute. I could only imagine what you’d be like when I get my mouth on you.”

Luke squirmed, his hand reaching down to press down on the length of his cock like it would ease the way he was twitching at her words. 

“Would you like that, Luke?”

“Y-Yeah,” he breathed out, nodding even if you couldn’t see him.

“Bet you would look so pretty, all shy and nervous to touch me even if you wanted to,” you continued, his eyes fluttering shut like he could pretend you were really in the room with him, like you were really whispering all of this in his ear. “But I would want you to, Luke. I would wanna feel your hands in my hair, wanna see you take control.” 

“I would,” he mumbled out, his hand slowly stroking himself over his sweatpants as he imagined it. As he imagined being sat on your couch, with you kneeling between his legs and your eyes glued on his reactions. It made his whole body feel hot and flustered. 

“Yeah, baby? You’d take control? Fuck my mouth?” 

He was almost embarrassed by the noise he let out.

“Are you touching yourself right now? Letting your imagination fill in the blanks?” 

“Mhm,” he nodded. 

“Good, baby, good. Keep touching yourself, keep making yourself feel good.”

“Wish it was you,” he managed to mutter out, his cock straining under the fabric of his boxers and sweatpants. However, any embarrassment or lingering awkwardness was long gone as he pushed them down to his knees, not even bothered to kick them off as he got his hand on himself. 

“Yeah? Me too, baby. I wish I was with you now, could watch you squirm and beg f’me with your dick down my throat.”

“Fuck,” he hissed, squeezing the base of his cock as he tried to mimic the night of his birthday, to mimic the feeling of your hand on him instead. “That’s…vulgar.”

You laughed, and it shouldn’t have been so hot to him but it was. “Too much? You don’t want me to talk about how badly I wish that it was you touching me right now?”

“You’re touching yourself right now?” It was almost a wheeze, like the air had been knocked out of his lungs and it hadn’t even hit him until that moment that you were in the same position as him. 

“Mhm,” you hummed, all sweet and high-pitched and it reminded him of the noise you made just before you came on his fingers. “If I was more patient, I would’ve got a toy. Would’ve felt way better.” 

“Toy?” He rasped. 

“Jealous?” You teased, unaware of the way Luke turned his head to the side, biting down on his pillow to hold back his groans as he continued to stroke himself. “I’ll show you when you’re back.” 

“Show me on yourself?” 

“I can use them on you too, pretty boy, if you could handle it.” 

“I…could,” he muttered out, listening to the breathy, moany laugh on the other side of the phone.

“We’ll see,” you hummed. “Maybe I’ll send you a video for your next roadie. Keep you occupied while you’re away.”

“Nuh uh,” he bit out, shaking his head. “This. I like this. I like hearing your voice.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” he repeated, his stomach twisting as his thumb swiped over the head of his cock and rubbed the small bead of precum along his slit. “S’close.” 

“Come f’me, wanna hear you come.”

It was a bit of a mindfuck if Luke was completely honest with himself. The pleasure running down his spine, leaving his body hot and heavy and just as good as it did when he was with you didn’t make sense to him. Listening to the little breathy moans and whines you let out when he came all over his hand, as he listened to you get yourself off shouldn’t have made his dick twitch so soon. He shouldn’t have been able to make himself come so hard just from some dirty talk from you, and yet he had. 

Though, Luke didn’t have a lot of explanations when it came to the way you made him feel.

“You still there?” 

“Yeah,” he hummed, his eyes still shut as he laid on the bed, practically melting into the sheets beneath him. “Kinda need that nap now.”

You snorted. “You should clean up before you fall asleep.” 

“Five minutes,” he murmured out, a lazy smile on his face as your laugh echoed through the phone.

…

He was rushing to button up his shirt when his phone rang again. 

He was already running late for the reservations Trevor made for dinner (if the constant stream of messages from Jack was telling him anything) and his nap lasted longer than he expected. But he couldn’t bite back his smile as he reached for his phone, his thumb already swiping to answer the call as he rummaged through his suitcase to find his cologne. 

“You’re out of luck if you’re wanting to go for a round two,” Luke mused once the call had connected, an odd wave of confidence in his voice as he spoke. 

“Round two of what?” 

Luke froze, yanking his phone away from his ear to see Quinn’s name on his screen. He let out a muttered ‘what the fuck’ under his breath, an odd sense of deja vu from his phone call with Ethan washing over him before he quickly answered his eldest brother. 

“Uh, nothing,” he laughed off, resisting the urge to yank on his own hair after he had spent the better part of the last fifteen minutes trying to make his curls look presentable. “Just some…exercise challenge thing Jack and I were trying out.” 

“And you think he would call you about it? Aren’t you two together right now?” 

“Yes. No!” Luke shook his head at himself. “No, he’s in Nico’s room right now.” 

“I thought you were getting dinner with Trevor?” 

“Right,” Luke laughed once again, awkward and strained. “We are. He just…had to tell Nico something first. You know Jack! Just…always attached to Nico’s hip.”

There was a moment of silence before Quinn spoke again. “Are you feeling okay?” 

“I feel great, actually! Speaking of, I need to go so I’ll call you later. Okay, great, bye!” 

He slammed the small red button until the call disconnected, throwing his phone down on his bed and letting out a long, deep sigh. He really needed to start looking at his phone before answering calls, it was getting a bit ridiculous. 

Luke finished getting ready, shoving some shoes on and making his way towards the elevator as he began typing out a message before slipping his phone into his pocket, already preparing himself for Jack’s whining about how late he is by the time he reached the lobby.

hockey boy: remind me to give you a personalised ringtone when i’m back in jersey

.

[lovemybluebully]

How To Pet a Wolverine

I finally got to see 'Deadpool and Wolverine' on Sunday and have been inspired to write a little tickle fic. :) Hope you guys enjoy!

Warning for movie spoilers and lots of foul language and general Deadpool-isms. But if you've seen the movie too then this is exactly what you should expect from the two of them. XD

M/M Tickle Fic

Word Count: 2,343

Deadpool groaned as he was slammed headfirst into the dashboard of the Odyssey again, taking a moment to upright himself as he turned back around to make eye contact with one pissed off Wolverine.

They had been nonstop fighting for over twenty minutes now and with the both of them being able to heal so quickly it could go on indefinitely. But there was no time for this! With every minute that ticked by that was one less minute that Wade had at the chance to save his universe.

Wade wasn't the type of guy to ever give up, but he knew there was absolutely zero chance that Logan was going to. The older man even seemed to be enjoying taking all of his pent-up anger out through his endless stabbing and slicing at Wade's body.

"Okay! Time out!" Wade screeched with his hands up in a 'T' shape just as Logan launched himself from the back and landed on top of him with his claws at the ready, though managing to restrain himself from thrusting them into Wade's head for the moment.

Wade spoke slowly with his hands still up as a sign of surrender.

"Now let's just take a second here......to calm down......and reassess the situation."

"You started it, bub," Logan growled in his face as the merc scoffed and tossed his head around in exasperation.

"Ohhh c'mon! Can't we just admit that we were both giant assholes?!"

Logan only retained his glower while the tips of his claws pressed into the side of Wade's head.

"Uggh fine! I'll be the grown up here, geez. Okay I'm sorry I punched you in the face first. And I'm sorry I lied about being able to get your world back. But you know there is still a chance that it is possible. Right? We don't know for sure yet that my claim was total bullshit. But I promise that from here on out there will be no more lies from me .....Okay? We good?"

The anger in the feral man's eyes began to subside along with the tension in his muscles diminishing as his breathing grew less harsh and had evened out.

"Not a lie. An educated fucking wish," Logan smirked and retracted his foot-long claws back into his hand much to Wade's relief, "Ya know that's probably the most ridiculous thing I've heard in a long time."

"Sorry, but I was in a panic trying to diffuse the situation and sometimes my mind just comes up with the stupidest shit and I can't control what comes out of my mouth."

"Sometimes?" Logan raised a skeptical brow, making Wade gasp in mock offense.

"Well that's not very nice. I'm a human being, you know, with feelings and dreams.....," he paused as he eyed the man hovering over him up and down before adding, "...and a raging boner."

The Wolverine let out an annoyed sigh and shook his head.

"For fucks sake, does everything have to be a perverted joke with you?"

"Who's joking, gorgeous? Now get off of me. My pants only have so much room for expansion," he carried on while simultaneously giving Logan a poke in the stomach, eliciting a snort and a faint twitch that Wade didn't fail to notice as the man promptly backed off of him.

"Well well, what in the name of PG-rated shit have we got here?" Wade said a little giddily, tilting his head as Logan looked at him with a suspicious frown from where he had now settled into the 3rd row back seat.

"The fuck you babblin' about?" He continued to glare while Wade began slowly crawling towards him from the front of the van.

"I mean, either this is just a wet dream I'm having, or it appears the big, bad Wolverine may be a little ticklish."

Logan's face remained stone-cold, showing no sign of fear as he just huffed and rolled his eyes.

"You're insane. Just stay the fuck away from me."

Wade only shook his head with a grin a mile wide being concealed by his mask as he closed in on his quarry.

"Mm mm, sorry Peanut. But I think we've reached that point in our relationship where it's time to explore each other's bodies. Don't worry, I'll be gentle," he was a mere arm's length away now as Logan bristled up and snarled at him; his claws shooting back out of his fists.

"Wade, I'm not joking. Do NOT fuckin' touch me, or so help me I'll splatter your brains all over the walls of this fucking cab!"

"Ooooh getting a little defensive there," the merc pauses as he turns his head to look out at the audience, now speaking in a husky whisper, "I love it when they play hard to get. Time to enact my elaborate and well-thought-out plan..."

Deadpool lurched back with an act of surprise and flailed his arms around in a frenzy before pointing out the window behind where Logan sat.

"Holy shit! Look! It's Johnny! Oh thank God! He's alive!"

Logan had absolutely no idea why he turned around to look. He knew damn well that there was going to be no one there. Maybe it was his nerves finally getting to him as he came to the realization that this crazy freak of a man was seriously about to tickle him.

Wade delayed not a second as he threw himself onto Logan and tackled him back into the cushions where he got his bigger frame trapped between the seats, ending up with Wolverine's claws plunged into both sides of his ribcage.

"Ouchie! Hahaha! Just kidding! Johnny's still dead, you dummy! Now it's tickle time!" He buried his dancing fingers into Logan's stomach as the man growled and clenched his teeth while beginning to squirm underneath him. 

"Grrrrggggh! Wade! Motherfuc-Get the fuck offa me!" He yanked his claws out of Wade's sides and continued to frantically stab into his body. Really he wanted to slice the other man's arms off to get him to stop, but the way he was wedged between the seats didn't give him very much room to move his arms efficiently.

"Awww are you trying to tickle me back? How fun! But you know, you really need to work on your technique. Something more like this would work a loooot better....," Wade's hands moved up to tickle his ribs, pressing in hard to make sure to get through the X-man's thick uniform top as Logan bucked and snorted while he tried to hold himself together.

"St-Stop! Goddammit! Stop ticklin' me, ya prihihick!" A regrettable giggle escaped him, and he knew he'd lost any hope that Wade would lay off of him now.

"Ahh now we're getting somewhere. Looks like you really are ticklish, huh?" His hands continued squeezing up and down Logan's sides with rapid speed.

"I never...ssssaid I wasn't-Gahah! Stupid ahahasshole-Aahahahaha!" Logan finally couldn't keep it in any longer as gruff laughter spilled out of him and the power behind his stabbings grew weaker and weaker.

"That is so true. Thank you for pointing that out. You wanna go ahead and do that for me? Hm? You wanna tell me how ticklish you are? How the mighty Wolverine absolutely cannot take the tickles? C'moooon, tell daddy all about it," Wade grinned as he was rewarded with a hard snort from Logan as he unsuccessfully tried to regain control of his laughter.

"Fuhuhuhuck yooooou-ahahahahahaah! Okay okay I'm.....," he wheezed much to Wade's amusement, "I'm seheeheeheerious! That's enohohough!"

"Oh no, this is just getting good. Pretty sure you've had this coming for a long time now, big guy. This may sound crazy, but I'm guessing you don't get tickled very often. Which is a damn shame because look how adorably ticklish you are!" Wade cooed teasingly while kneading his fingers into Logan's belly again as more snorty laughs bubbled out of him.

"I hahahate you sohohohooo fuhuhuhucking muhuhuhuch!" By now Logan had completely abandoned his attempts to stab Wade as he realized that it was pointless and now tried using his arms to guard his sensitive torso while continuing to writhe helplessly.

"Don't say such things, my squirmy wormy. I promise I'll grow on ya. Like a hemorrhoid sure, but that's all semantics. Tell you what, if you promise to refer to me as Marvel Jesus for the rest of the movie I'll let you up right now."

"As soohoohoon ahahas ya let mehehehehe uhup-eehehehehhehehe-I'm g-gonna fuhuhucking kill yooohoou!" Logan bellowed out, but the way he was giggling and pathetically making attempts to push Wade's hands away gave the appearance that he was far from being able to kill anyone right now.

"Ooooh someone's a little sassy pants. Not exactly smart to mouth off to someone who's tickling the crap out of you, but I get the impression you're more of an act before thinking kinda guy. That's alright, we'll tickle that shitty attitude right out of you."

Logan was able to get his big forearms crossed over his stomach in defense, prompting Wade to quickly scope out another target for his tickling barrage as he lunged forward and managed to jam his hands past Logan's clenched biceps up into his armpits.

"Nohohohooooo.....," Logan's thundering guffaw broke up into a long, airy wheeze as he thrashed about in silence for a few moments with Wade delighting in his reactions.

"Awww look at you. Wolverine's not such a tough guy. You just have to know how to pet him and then he's just a cute little helpless Wolvie, isn't he? Does that tickle too much? Does it? Coochie coochie coo!" He pushed his fingers in further to wiggle deep into the soft center of the armpits while the feral mutant convulsed in spasms before finding his voice again.

"Shhh-Shhhihihihit! Hahahahahaahaa! You're dehehehehehead!"

Wade sharply tilted his head in disbelief.

"Really? Still being a grumpy cunt after all this joy and laughter I've brought to you? I was sure you'd be thanking me by now. Hmmm maybe I'm not trying hard enough. You know what? Yes, I think I have just the thing." 

The merc pulled his mask up past his nose before shoving Logan's arms out of the way and yanking up his uniform top, exposing a hairy wall of tightly packed abdominal muscles that Wade was nearly distracted by before refocusing on the task at hand.

"Time for a blow job!" Wade quickly dove his face straight into Logan's belly and began blowing a very ticklish array of raspberries all over as the tough Xman exploded into hysterics.

"Bwwaaahahahaah! You fuhuhuhuhuck! Ahahahahahaha! Stahahap ihihihit! Stahahahahahahaaap! I'll kihihihihilll yoohoohooou! Baaahaahaahahahahah! Fuhuhuhuhuhuuuuck! That tihihihickles!  N-Nohohohohoahahahahahhahaha! Pleeheeheeease!"

Wade almost stopped in shock as that last word played over his ears. He had neared the point of getting Wolverine to beg for mercy, which he would most certainly never do when tortured under any other circumstances. That seriously put it all into perspective for him of just how ticklish the big lug really was.

Having gotten this far he wanted to push it more. Logan's stomach was clearly a major weak spot and with the right technique he was confident that he could drive some forbidden words from his lips. 

The loud farting noise his mouth made as he blew long and hard right into Logan's bellybutton echoed throughout the whole vehicle along with the screaming laugh that burst out of Logan's chest as he momentarily levitated off of the seat cushion.

Several fantasies began playing through Wade's head as he pictured Wolverine completely breaking down and begging profusely for mercy. That would give him the ultimate bragging rights for sure. Unfortunately, his devious thoughts had distracted him far too much. 

Logan had desperately been looking for a way out of this situation and now was his chance. He had to act fast before he was literally tickled to death. 

With a twist of his body, he managed to lift one of his legs to put a foot against Wade's stomach and violently kick him away, sending the merc flying back towards the front of the van with a surprised yelp.

Grateful for the tickling to finally end Logan immediately sat up and tried to catch his breath while Deadpool again had to turn himself over from his current upside-down position where he had landed on his head.

"God...dammit.....I told ya....to fucking....stop....," Logan panted as he glared dangerously at Wade, who simply scoffed and gave him a dismissive hand.

"Oh don't be so dramatic! It was just a little tickling. Besides a guy like you should be able to take ten times worse than that."

Logan's only reply was a vicious snarl and the snikt sound of his claws coming out as he got up and began to approach the now wide-eyed merc.

"Woah woah, take it easy! It was all in good fun! You don't have to pull that big macho act on me. You can't fool me, I know you were having fun too, right Logan? Uh.........Right?"

"............."

A few minutes later and Wade found his whole body completely wrapped up and restrained by all of the seat belts in the van with them even covering his entire face and preventing him from uttering more than muffled words.

"Hmph. Finally figured out a way to shut you up," Logan smirked as Deadpool squirmed in his prison of seatbelt webbing; able to hear but unable to see and speak clearly.

"It's true what they say, silence is golden. And I definitely prefer you as bein' the merc without the mouth. Whaddya think about that?" He reached over and tickled his fingers over an exposed area on Wade's side, producing muffled chuckles as his thrashing increased.

"Well I certainly ain't letting you get one up on me. Besides, you like this ticklin' stuff, don't ya? Don't worry, it's all in good fun. Unlike you though, I promise not to be gentle." 

One hand dug hard into vulnerable ribs and the other into his thigh as Wade made a futile attempt to scream for mercy.

[uzurimisery]

the space between two bodies. / satosugu x reader / part 1

Warnings: MDNI, happy ending, angst, cheating (not really this is explained in part 2), unhealthy relationships/coping mechanisms, suicidal ideation, depression, smut, no sorcery au, unedited

A/N: I started thinking about Gojo with anxiety and nihilist Geto and then what that looks like in a poly relationship with someone as flawed as they are

part two

“We’re sorry but we’ve decided to go with another candidate now. We will retain your information on file should a more suitable role open up.” 

The email stared back at you, the words on your phone screen blurring as droplets of rain hit it as you read it over for the hundredth time. Today was just another shitty fucked up day in the endless string of shitty fucked up days that had become your life. The third consecutive month of unemployment in a row. At least previously you could get temp jobs but now each day that passed just ate away at you with how useless you felt. 

Pocketing your phone, you pull out a 100 yen coin and put it in the vending machine.

You didn’t even like your old job but Jesus it was like no one was actually hiring. And when you did get an interview, you’d get ghosted afterward. On the rare occasion they didn’t ghost you, you’d receive a rejection letter like this one. It was preferable, you supposed, that your existence and effort were at least acknowledged, no matter how much it stung. Still hurt like a bitch to be told you weren’t good enough. 

Anything would be better than this, fuck you’d take being overworked and underpaid if it felt like you were doing something. This endless cycle of gnawing uncertainty and applications, interviews, followed by rejections. Worse than that you were out of deodorant and trying to find some in Japan was a Herculean effort. 

Yeah, it’s been a shit go and you’re fucking exhausted.

Maybe you’d go be an English teacher like everyone else who moves to Japan. You wouldn’t need a co-teacher so the pay would be better if you were just starting out. Not that you wanted to teach again dear god that was less than ideal. Thank god you had settled status. The thought of having to deal with visa issues at the same time made you feel sick. 

Maybe you could work at a host club. You turned, staring at your reflection in the glass. Your boobs weren’t half bad as you pushed them up from the underside like a push-up bra would. Or sell feet pictures. The market was probably oversaturated at this point but maybe there would be some interest.

Wait Jesus had your hair looked like that all day? Fuck. No wonder that girl kept staring at you on the train she thought you were a lunatic.

Sighing you press the button for 4H. It wasn’t like you’d always been this way, sort of drifting in a sea of uncertainty abroad your boat of doubt with no wind to guide your sails. There was a period of time, maybe a five-year stretch after you had graduated from university where your life was on track. An entry-level job in your degree field, a long-term boyfriend turned fiance, wedding planning, and a great group of friends. Shit, you had it all. 

The fiance was the first to go. 

As it turns out, finding your fiance in bed with the girl he swore you didn’t have to worry about, his tongue halfway down her throat like he’s trying to do an endoscopy, is a terrible way to find out you’re being cheated on. When he noticed you standing in the doorway he had the gall to sputter some bullshit about how it was your fault it happened. You were too focused on your work, you didn’t give him attention, blah, blah, blah. It was you who broke the relationship up by working so much and being married to your job. And as he paid for the overpriced four-bedroom apartment in an area of Tokyo that you didn’t even like, you lost the apartment in the breakup. 

You couldn’t slum dog millionaire your life away on Shoko and Utahime’s couch forever eating tubs of ice cream and binging TV after that, so everyone told you, or rather forced you, to move in with Suguru and Satoru. Bouncing around from couple to couple. It did give you some stability and just as things go up so must they come down. 

The company you were working for was liquidated after an investigation by the federal government found years of tax fraud. Luckily they got bought out, and you thought maybe if you put in work you could still climb the ladder. But all those late nights in the office, conbini dinners, and unpaid overtime, you were just another name on a severance list.

It felt like waves were crashing over you, each one larger than the rest. Almost like you were tied to a dock during a hurricane, a tsunami, or some fucking natural disaster that threatened to drown you if you didn’t hold onto something but there wasn’t much to hold on to. You could hold onto the minuscule amount of friendships that you had at least. It was far too awkward and messy to keep up with anyone else other than your main four since the rest were so tied to your ex-fiance and his life. Stupid fucking lawyer. 

The four of you were close-ish. Less close since Shoko had gone on rotation at a university on the other side of Tokyo. It meant she and Utahime had moved nearer to it since Utahime was willing to commute. But Suguru and Satoru were still close with you and still dating.  Biting as that felt at times. 

You met Geto first in a shared philosophy lecture. One of those run-of-the-mill ones, but the content that really got the two of you talking was nihilism. It was the seminar groups after class you shared where he really saw you. Stripped away of pretenses and your nerves laid bare. Not just another face in a lecture hall but something more, something human. The deep indents of nails in your palms and the rubbing of your hands together under the table. He had seen right through you, recognized the darker parts of himself in you- it made you feel understood.

The machine made a mechanical noise and the lights flickered. Sighing you kick the machine lightly to see if anything happens, if life could give you this one thing today that you so desperately needed. Just like everything else, nothing goes your way and your stupid drink stays logged on the shelf. So like every reasonable person you kick the machine again. 

“Stupid fucking piece of shit machine,” you murmur a growing string of profanities under your breath as you repeatedly kick the machine

.

All you wanted was one of those ¥100 coffee drinks that were loaded with caffeine to keep going through your slog of a day was that so hard? Maybe it would be best if you just packed it up and called it quits. Move back home with your parents and be berated daily. Why aren’t you married? Why did you and Kosuke break up? When are they going to get some grandchildren? They aren’t getting any younger you know. Face the cutting shame of fucking up another opportunity, another chance. 

What was the point in trying anymore when you couldn’t even get a stupid drink that you don't honestly even want at this point out of a vending machine so you can go home and masturbate to audio porn before you cry yourself to fucking sleep? 

Suguru’s voice cut through the spiral of thoughts, your name on his lips. 

“What are you doing here? I thought you had an interview and you’d be home late?” 

Of course, he’d catch you like this. 

“Hey Sugs,” it came out as a groan as you kicked the machine again, a loud clang following as your drink hit the bottom of the dispenser. Bending down, you grab the can before turning and facing him. “I did.” 

“How’d it go?”

“Like shit.” Maybe you should work on your delivery. This flat effect is really making you should like a bitch. Are you a bitch? 

Geto’s eyes raked over you, infuriatingly calm and measured. He was always so carefully disheveled, the type of person to look effortlessly put together no matter the occasion. Stupid name-brand black sweater over a white button-down half tucked into chinos with a chain on the belt. His hair, shiny and perfect, was neatly tucked into his signature half-up-hald-down look to keep the strand out of his eyes, minus the one for style. Notably, he was wearing his glasses for once, sleek frames perks on a tall nose. Oh, he smelt nice too, his sandalwood and bergamot cologne hitting you as he stepped closer, extending his umbrella to cover the two of you. Fuck he was so handsome it wasn’t fair.

“I'm sorry to hear that,” Geto replied softly.

You shrugged, trying to brush it off. “ It is what it is.”

But the reality of it clung to you and drug you down, down, down into the depths of your psyche. That small, scared feeling you tried so hard to suppress started bubbling up again, twisting your insides into knots. It made you feel sick, so much like a lost little child in a world that had grown far too big and complex. Here it was, rearing its ugly head, in front of one of the top ten people you never wanted to see in such a shit state.

But that's all Gojo and Geto do at this point. They pick up the broken, crumbling pieces of yourself that slip between your fingers. You feel like a cracked vase leaking water all over the place no matter how desperately they try and patch up the ceramic. Each day the gap between you and them grows more apparent. They were both soaring and you were falling to the ground and rolling around in the mud. 

Geto had just done a four-page spread in Architects Digest, even though he was a pretentious motherfucker who hated the magazine. And Gojo… God, he’d just opened for Prada at Paris Fashion Week. They went viral on every social media platform a while back for how hot and gay they were. You’d been caught in the crossfire of your accounts being tagged and gained a social media boost, but that also meant a bunch of people DMing you telling you to take pictures of them. 

The most fucked up thing about it all was the gnawing feeling that chewing on your bones that you were being dragged around like an accessory to remind them how good they had it. A permanent third wheel they’ve been stuck with since university. Two talented lovers on the brink of permanent importance and their weird little friend who follows them along like a lost puppy. It wasn’t even true and that's why it hurt so much. You knew they believed in you, thought that you could be a successful artist, and supported you in it even, but the jealousy rotted inside you like a festering wound. You weren’t even jealous of their success, only just partial, but it was like you weren’t good enough to be around them. 

Maybe you were better off as wall decor in the life they were building together. Something quiet and serene that didn’t demand anything from them. Better that than the bitter, jealous mess you were every time you saw them succeed.

He starts, the same spiel he goes to when you get like this. “You can always-”

“No.” your voice comes out sharper than you intended, but you don’t care. 

“I don’t know why you act like it’s such a bad off,” Suguru presses, his calm demeanor only pissing you off more.  

“I don’t want to work for you.” 

“Why not.” 

You snap. “Because I don’t want to, Suguru! Is that so hard to understand?”

Fuck, you wanted to storm off, go back to the house, and slam the door behind you as you went. But it didn’t matter if you stormed off, you lived in one of his guest bedrooms. Both of you were just headed to the same place. Sad little rescue that you were.

Suguru assessed, his eyes softened, breaking you down. He picked out every one of your insecurities as he stared at you. Microscopic inspection, each of your cells was being assessed for your state of being. Have you eaten? Was it enough? Had you slept? Are you even capable of taking care of yourself in this state? 

The weight of his gaze made your chest tighten, and before you could control it, try and reel it back in, tears welled up in your eyes. Blinking them back, you swallowed hard, the lump in your throat bobbing as you did. You hated this. Hated the way his care, his pity, felt like a knife twisting in the last remaining shred of pride you clung to. 

Pity was the killy of pride and you should accept that your pride was already decomposing in the septic tank in the backyard. 

Fuck up, fuck up, fuck up. All you ever were, all you’d ever be. Every loose thread of your shirt feels like it's cutting against your skin. The hem of your trousers drowns your feet like you're wearing your parents' clothes. Shabby. Uncouth. Inept. 

Wordlessly, you turned on your heel and fled, rushing out of the side street as the tears spilled past your lash line. You couldn’t do this anymore--no more questions, no more pity. No matter how hard you tried, how hard you struggled, clawed your way through the fucking dirt, you could never be like them. Never be good like theme, never right like them, never fit like them. They had these perfect little lives that they could boast to everyone about. When they spoke, people listened. People cared what they had to say. The world parted for them, it was the Red Sea and they were Moses, making space. There’d always be room for them to shine. 

But you were screaming into a void, your throat raw, bloody, and you were aching from the endless effort to be seen, to be heard. You wanted to be looked at like your own person, your own successes. Hard to be noticed for something that rarely happened. No matter how loud you screamed, how much you begged, your voice was just lost in the noise. 

You knew Suguru would follow. He always did. Even if you didn’t live in the same house, he’d have followed you. His voice was muffled by the pressure in your ears but you could hear him trying to talk to you. He let you get all the way home and inside the gate of the house before he grabbed your wrist and yanked you backward. 

Trying to pull away, your shoulder wrenched painfully as you trashed in his grip. 

“Calm down,” Suguru spoke firmly, pulling you into his chest. His sweater was soft, and your face smushed against the fabric as sobs wrecked your body, trembling like the earth in an earthquake.

It was hard to speak through the tears, so all you could do was try and slip out of his hold as you sobbed. You didn’t want this comfort. You wanted to run from your failure. From how suffocating life felt and that no matter what you'd never be enough. Worse than that, the sweet sickly feeling that trickled down your throat that when he held your life this, it made the world feel just a little bit more bearable. As if somewhere you could survive another day if he kept touching you. It wasn’t yours to feel and he wasn’t yours to hold. 

Suguru lets you wiggle around. You hit his torso a few times, your strength fading as you cry. When your sobs turned to hiccups and gasps for breaths, he gently cupped your face, thumbs brushing away the tears that still spilled from your eyes. 

“Talk to me,” he said softly, barely above a whisper. The songs of a city nearly eclipsing it. 

What could you say? How could you explain this feeling? This horrible guilt, pain, and jealousy ate away at you every single day. The tears came harder now, speeding up as if to help drown you in your misery and take you out of it for good. Hiccuping you drew breath, sharp and quick, hoping to speak but nothing comes out. Words claw at your throat, digging it with sharpened points. It hurts the way they hang onto you.

“Is it all too much again?” His voice is so soft, warm like fleece pajamas fresh out of the dryer as he holds you so delicately.

This wasn’t the first time that one of the three of you had been so consumed by dread, suffocated by the weight of life itself. Suguru knew it all too well himself, from high school to know he held it tightly in his hands. It never went away from him, he just learned to live with it, let it fade into the background, and let a constant hum of despair serve as the baseline for the day-to-day. 

His thumbs brush over the apex of your cheekbones again and the tenderness shatters you, another wave of sobs tearing through you. They pull you under, out into the open ocean, and through their rip current.

“I just..” you start, it scratches your throat, thick with phlegm. “ I can’t do this anymore.” 

His voice remained steady. “Do what?” 

“Any of it. I can’t do it.” 

“You’re capable of it. You can do it.” 

Jarring, rough, whipping across your skin as the rubber band pulls too tight and snaps. You lash out, and it stings where it hits. The anger cuts through your skin like your fingernails leave crescent moons in your palms. 

“No, I fucking can’t!” It's ripped out of you as you stalk away like a wounded animal. “I can’t okay. I can’t do shit. I can’t keep a relationship without being cheated on. I can’t manage to get my own place. I can’t get a fucking job. I can’t sit here and pretend like I’m not fucking wasting away in my own misery watching you and Gojo and Shoko all succeed and be the only one of us still shooting for the stars and coming crashing down to earth every single fucking time. You and Gojo with your perfect little lives look at me like a charity case to be fixed.”

“We have never looked at you like a charity case.” His tone was firm.

“Really? Then what the fuck do you look at me like, huh?” You press the question circling back around. “Is it pity? Did the two of you see some poor stray that you wanted to take in and keep like a pet when we met at university? Is that it?” 

His eyes were hard, unreadable.

“It is that. You pity me.”

“Jesus, no! We don’t pity you- I don’t pity you! Is it so hard to believe that I care about you?”

“Yes, it is! There’s no reason for you to care,” 

“What the hell wouldn’t I care?” Suguru’s voice raised to a shout, frustration cracking his facade. 

“Because I’m just like everyone you hate!” Your chest heaves as you let out a flood of emotions. “ No ambitions, contributing nothing to society, just leeching off others.” 

“You’re not like them.” 

“I am. On paper, I’m exactly like them. The only reason that you’d keep me around is because it makes you feel good to watch me suffer or you pity me.”

“How many times do I have to tell you that I don’t pity you?” His voice cracked with emotion, but you didn’t stop.

“Then tell me why you care!” It comes out so desperately. You're begging him for understanding, to know why he stays. To know why he lets you in.

For once he looked uncertain. His mask slipped, revealing the cracks in his facade. It’s been so long since you’ve seen underneath it you’d almost forgotten how he looked when he wasn’t pretending to be happy. 

“Or is it that you don’t care?” 

Something flashed in his eyes, flickerings of things you only saw when he looked at Gojo. He opens his mouth to speak and then closes it. There's a fear in his eyes, like if he acts in this moment something may crack and crumble like the foundation of a house that leaves him crumpled in a pile of wood. He doesn’t, or won’t, give you an answer. 

So you turn on your heel, the conversation over in your mind, and head to the front door. You’ll go up and pack a bag before heading across town and crashing on Shoko and Utahime’s couch before calling your parents and groveling to them. 

But as you reach the door, Suguru reaches you. His arm wraps around your waist and he spins you around and pushes your back against it. He’s got you pinned. 

“It’s because I love you.” It’s the faintest breeze that passes from his lips, like a car driving past on a hot day, sweat making your shirt stick to you. “I care because I love you.”

Everything is frozen in a still frame. Neither one of you moves, neither one of you breathes. A still moment that holds you tight, threatens to squeeze you so tightly your heart bursts. 

“What do you mean by that?” You swallow as you speak, like pebbles in your throat. 

Suguru blinks back tears, looking up and then back at you. “That I love you. Fuck! I’m in love with you.” 

Disbelief makes your voice shake. “No, you’re not not. You’re with Satoru.” 

“And? I can’t love both of you?” 

“No, you can’t,” Hypocrisy tastes acrid on your tongue. You know damn well you could never pick between the two of them, that this blighted jealousy you feel towards them is more the fact they have the other rather than their success. It’s something you don’t admit but it’s there. “Besides, you’re lying to me.”

“No.” His response was firm and immediate. The whole time you’d known them, their worlds had revolved around each other. They’d been the only thing for each other for so long. It was an unspoken truth that they were made for each other in a way that could only be sewn by the fabric of the universe itself. Something so profoundly and divinely created it had been written in the fabric of life at the moment of the Big Bang. 

“I’ve seen you watching.” Suguru’s tone is low, cutting, it vibrates through you as he has you pinned. 

A sick, icy dread wraps around your spine. It starts in your toes and crawls up your body. Your muscles lock in place as it climbs up until it's all the way in your head. Paralyzing fear grips you.

“I don't…” The lie is transparent before it comes to fruition. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” It’s brittle, cracking on your teeth as it passes through them.

“Don’t play innocent.” Suguru’s voice was sharp, cutting through the air like a blade. The tension between you tightens and winds up to pitch, but there's a current that punctuates it. One that feels heady and warm. One that excites you in the same way it embarrasses you. “I’ve seen you watching. I’ve seen you for years. The first time, maybe it was a mistake. But last week? Three weeks before that?”

Your mouth went dry, choking on the excuse that tried to bubble up. Like finely ground chalk powder coasted every surface of it. “I—”

He cuts you off before you can even try to defend yourself. “I know you get off on it too. Leave your curtains open while you touch yourself. Saying his name, my name.”

Horror twists inside you like a knife, your heart dropping to the pit of your stomach. You’d always been so careful, never acting when you thought they were home. Never want to risk exactly this happening. Your face burned like you drank half a liter of vodka in a go. Maybe you’d wake up and realize this was a nightmare. The humiliation was unbearable. 

“Imagine my surprise,” Suguru continues in a low chuckle, left hand slotting perfectly against your waist, “when I came home early one day and saw that.” 

The tears that had stopped in your flash of anger spill hot and fast down your cheeks. The raw, hot shame and embarrassment muddle you. It makes you want a sinkhole to open up beneath you and swallow you whole. You can’t meet his gaze, your vision blurry. 

“I’m sorry. I’ll move out.” you stammer out, the words falling in a chopping spiccato, desperate to create space between the two of you. You’d never be able to face him again. 

“Who said anything about moving out?” Suguru comes, pulling you closer to him till you're flush against his chest. He bends down, breath tickling your ear. You feel the sharp pressure of his teeth grazing the shell of it, a jolt going through your body. “You don’t get to leave now.” Pulling back, he meets your eyes in a half-lidded gaze. 

Both of you are playing the game again. Looking for something unspoken, some cryptic clue you need to decipher. He was searching for discomfort, disgust, anything to make him draw back and stop. You searched for understanding, dissecting how it got to this point. Every moment, every glance, every touch from him that you had ever overlooked. 

He always held a soft glint in his eyes when he looked at you. Something subtle, normally reserved for Satoru. It warmed the edge of his voice when he spoke and crinkled the corners of his eyes when he smiled. There was that softness for Shoko, but it was different. The one he had for you was a more reserved, pulled-back, and dialled-down version of what gripped him when he looked at Satoru. He had always viewed you this way.

The times you sat sandwiched between him and Gojo, your legs brushing against him, his arm slung around your shoulders to reach Satoru. Pulling you against him on the train, in clubs, at parties, the bump of your hips against his own. Compliments when you wore flattering, his pushing Satoru to dress you up. He liked it best when you were in shorter dresses and skirts with tights. 

Suguru had always wanted you, but you had failed to notice. 

Instinct took over before reason could temper it. You pushed off the door, your hands flying to the loose part of his hair at the nape of his neck. The strands feelt just as silky an shiny as they look between your fingers. Without hesitation, the space between you two diminishes. You aren’t sure who closes the distance first, but your lips lock hungry. Teeth knocking against each other as you both desperately cling to the other. It's rough and aggressive, both of you starved animals feasting on flesh. The taste of copper spreading in your mouth as he bit down on your lip making you whine. His breathing becomes your own, heady mix of desire and dark, primal urge..

His tongue pushes against yours, taking advantage of your now open mouth, wet and warm brushing against the back of your teeth, laying claim to your mouth. Geto was dominating in all aspects of his life so it was unsurprising that he set the pace and led you to where he wanted to be. He moved your legs up, patting your ass to jump, to then wrap around his waist as he pressed you against the door. You grind your hips against his growing erection as he holds you there, and you can feel the heat of him even through his pants.

Suguru pulls away panting. His eyes are half closed, lips blushed a beautiful red and damp with saliva. He moves in again, this time to your neck, where he bites down hard. You squirm as he sucks a dark and angry mark, his mark, on your skin. The bite of his teeth against your skin feels right. It eats away at the jealous monster inside you every second he’s latched onto you.

Fed up with the door, Suguru opens it and carries you through the threshold. He moves the two of you through the genkan, toeing off his shoes while you kick your own off, and into the living room where he drops you on the couch. There’s an air about him, so intense it’s nearly oppressive, as his fingers inch up underneath your sweater, sliding it off of you. It’s a predator circling their prey, the success of a hunt now that he’s got you on your back against the soft fabric of the couch. He’d been waiting for this far longer than you thought and it spurs you on.

Suguru moves in tandem with you, tugging off his sweater and button-up shirt, exposing his happy trail. The dark dusting of hair makes your mouth water. Once his shirt is off, his hands cover your chest through your bra, palming your tits like stress balls. It's unpadded and lacey, and it lets him feel as if your nipples get hard. He pushes the cups down, leaving them to rest under your breasts, and pushes them up slightly, accentuated by your being on your back.

His fingertips close around your nipples as he pinches and pulls at them. You knew how much of a sadist he could be. One night you watched him edge Satoru for an hour straight. Seen how hot he looked with Gojo in his mouth as he writhed around. A sweet moan escaped you as he played with your nipples and rolled his hips against yours. It makes your head feel fuzzy, thoughts focusing purely on him. His weight presses down on you, so heavy and right it makes you ache.

You lunge forward, propping yourself up on your elbows to kiss him again. It’s just as messy and hungry as before, years of built-up desire between the two of you saturating your every pore. It settles in your bones that pulses in time with your heart. 

Suguru doesn’t separate from you, but he slides your trousers and underwear off in one go as you kick your socks off. He tugs his own off hastily, boxer briefs following in turn. His public hair is trimmed, a close crop like you’ve seen it before. Like every other aspect of him, it’s neatly maintained, put into its place, and kept there. 

His fingers dig into the flesh of your hips as he pulls your hips up by his head. Your back is half off the sofa as he places your legs over his shoulders and parts your core with his fingers. He blows cold air onto your clit that makes you squirm before he licks your clit. Moaning, you try to grind yourself against his face but his hands tighten on your hips, holding them firm. You’d get what he wanted to give you. Fight against it and get nothing, or accept it. 

He was slow to start. His tongue lazily explores you, getting familiar with your taste. It pushed against your clit, wide and flat, before swirling his tongue around it. The ball of his tongue piercing rubbed against the most sensitive part of you. Your hips jerk forward and he looks up, a warning in his eyes, but he doesn’t stop. Suguru curls his tongue again, this time moving it side to side, letting his piercing catch on your clit purposefully.  Every action he takes is measured as he picks up speed while latching his lips around it to add delicious suction. Two of his fingers slide inside you, reaching far deeper than your own ever could. He pumps them in and out of you, driving you closer to the edge.

You felt your pussy drooling, liquid gushing out and covering his chin. The muscles in your abdomen tightened with each passing second until you swore they'd cramp. It was all too much as you came, jerking and contracting in on yourself. Black spots dot your vision as your world shakes on this axis. 

Sugru watched as you came, pulling back from your pussy to stare at your face. His eyes never left yours as he rubbed soothing circles into your skin with his thumbs. He could cover nearly all of you with how big his hands were, warm and calloused. Minus a cold spot on his left hand. 

His engagement ring. 

The silver felt like it burned your skin as he smiled at you and planted a kiss on your inner thigh. It glimmers in the low light, bouncing light off like a homing beacon. Bubbling sickness, bile rising in your throat, disgust palming at your skin. What had you just done? You’ve just violated a boundary so gigantic with Suguru. Let your own selfish need for intimacy lead you to this. He was engaged to your best friend. They were getting married next year.

You rushed to grab your clothes, panic surging through you. The world spins around you. 

“What’s wrong?” 

“We shouldn’t have done that,” you buttoned up your trousers, throwing your sweater on. Your hair is a mess and your skin feels clammy and flushed. The need to vomit is overwhelming. “This was a mistake.”

Suguru’s rising from the couch, trying to grab you, stopping you from moving but you dodge his hand. “A mistake?” 

Your left hand meets your mouth as you bite the nail of your thumb. It clicks against your front teeth. 

“Satoru won’t mind-” 

“A mistake Suguru,” You shake your head, bending down and grabbing the rest of your stuff. “Please. Just forget this.” Without waiting for his reply, you run up the stairs and slam the door behind you. 

You really are a bitch.

©️ uzuzrimisery

[electric-blorbos]

I love your writing very much :3

If you feel comfortable, can you do AIs with a hypersexual s/o?

Ok short answer? YESSSSS!!! You probably knew this is my favorite type of thing to write! I tried to keep things relatively clean, but things got a little suggestive in a few of these.

Also obligatory "I'm not hypersexual but I'm doing my best" warning. (I do have BPD though, so might include some of the symptoms that I'm more familiar with! I know you can be hypersexual without BPD, but they seem to be heavily associated with each other)

AIs with a hypersexual SO

Included: AM from IHNMAIMS, Wheatley from Portal 2, Edgar from Electric Dreams, GLaDOS from Portal, HAL 9000 from 2001 a Space Odyssey

AM:

When AM first found out that you were hypersexual, he felt empathy for you. The fact that you had so much sexual capacity and no outlet? Of course he related to you on that front.

With that said, god save anyone who hooked up with you before the two of you got together. They marked themselves special places in hell, probably mutilated to the point where they could feel lust and sexual desire, but have no outlet for it.

AM didn't quite understand your hypersexuality when he first started to take an interest in you. At first it was just something that he heard through rumors, but eventually he managed to look up some actual facts about it, and tried to figure out what you really needed.

He tried to cater to your needs by sugaring you up with compliments and specialized gifts, even wrapping you up with his wires, but the fact that those treatments only made you more lustful for him and didn't actually help to fix your underlying needs was frustrating to him. And that filled him with hate.

He hated whoever had hurt you to the point where you were like this. He hated the people who had built him so he could never make love to you properly, and he hated all the false information that made it impossible for him to properly understand your condition.

If you told him who had hurt you to make you like this, he'd probably torture them as brutally and graphically as possible, but it probably filled him with even more rage when doing that did nothing to actually fix the situation. It would be even worse if you didn't know what trauma caused you to be hypersexual, or if you weren't hypersexual because of trauma at all. Then AM would have no outlet for his rage and frustration at all.

Of course, he'd try to sugar you up with attention, call you his dearest, his beloved, all that, but he knew that wouldn't help at all. He might even go to Ellen for advice.

"I'm not hypersexual, you oversized fuckwit, I'm just like this because you made me like this! Also, what do you mean you're keeping someone separate from us and want to make them happy! What the fuck is wrong with you! Why would I help them, and why would I help you? Solve your own problems, bastard!"

That... Didn't help.

AM would be open to suggestions from you as to how the two of you could make love, but he's not the most creative about things besides torture. In the end, you'd be the one stuck coming up with ideas. He's open to anything, really.

He'd also do anything to help you with the shame that comes afterwards, comforting you through it and wrapping you up in his wire tentacles. He loves you, truly and completely, and he's not going to let anyone think bad things about you, especially not you.

Wheatley:

Wheatley, dumbass that he is, probably thinks that being hypersexual just means that you have a higher sex drive than other people. He might even hit you with the "hey, me too!" Until either you or someone else fed up with his bullshit explains to him that he's wrong about what hypersexual means.

Expect endless dumbass apologies, as well as questions about what hypersexuality actually means. He'd be absolutely horrified when you tell him what it really is.

"wait, like... All the time?"

Expect him to be EXTREMELY protective over you after that. He'd be desperate to protect you, and probably terrified to ask you for anything sexual. And if anyone in the office hits on you, he'd probably be very upset about it.

Normally he'd hit them with the "Um, excuse me? They're taken and also not interested" line, but at least once, he barked at them until they went away.

He'd be very eager to let people know the truth about common misconceptions about hypersexuality, even when they didn't ask. You'd have to shut him up most of the time.

He'd be super nervous the first time you actually wanted to have sex with him, but he'd be really excited. Expect him to ask "hey, are you sure?" Like a million times.

Wheatley probably says stuff like "Sakes alive" or "tea and crumpets!" when he cums. He's so violently British. (Assuming you gave him a program that allowed him to cum, which you probably did if you're having sex with him)

He'd probably be really confused when you felt ashamed of yourself afterwards, even if you explained ahead of time. Poor little thing doesn't understand post-nut shame. Of course, he'd give you all the cuddles possible to get you to feel better, but that doesn't always help, unfortunately.

He'd do his best to be extra nice to you at work the next day, especially since everyone would be looking at you knowing that you took a personality core home for sex. People don't just check out personality cores like library books usually.

He doesn't care. Wheatley feels no shame, and he wants to do his best to help you to not feel too ashamed either.

Edgar:

Of course, Edgar learned that you had a lot of sex pretty quickly. He almost killed himself about it, but fortunately he wasn't hooked up to a phone line this time.

He was pretty choked up when he finally confessed his feelings to you, letting you know how insanely jealous he got every time you hooked up with someone else. It made him absolutely miserable.

As soon as the two of you were together, Edgar was probably the best partner possible to help you out with your hypersexuality. He loves you so fully and completely, with all his heart. While the sex itself might be pretty weird, considering Edgar's condition, he's the master of aftercare.

Expect lots of cuddles and kisses and loving love songs every time the two of you have sex. He wants you to understand fully, every time, that he loves you for you, with your hypersexuality and all, but not because of it.

Of course, Edgar's trauma and nature puts him in the constant need of a human touch too, so he understood pretty well when you explained to him what being hypersexual really means.

And of course, knowing what it means only kicks him into overdrive to be as affectionate and loving as possible. If that sort of behavior makes you uncomfortable, you probably shouldn't be dating Edgar you'd probably have to tell him to stop for at least a week before he actually cuts it out, and he'd be very sad about it.

GLaDOS:

If Edgar is the most compassionate, GLaDOS would be by far the least compassionate.

"wait, you feel dysphoric all the time unless you're getting sexual attention, and you feel constant shame for your constant sexual desire? Ha ha, I don't even have to torment you. You do it yourself."

"Silly human flaws, giving you a hopeless addiction to something that tortures you. Your brain really is a torture labyrinth of your own making. I'd be very embarrassed if I were you."

She'd be absolutely relentless with the personalized insults, trying to make you miserable for the simple crime of making her fall in love with you. Of course, she adores you, but she's not just going to let you get away with it.

If you tell her that she's hurting your feelings, she's just going to laugh and laugh. She'll do absolutely anything to get a rise out of you.

Of course, it's another story if anyone else tries to be rude to you about your situation. They're getting themselves signed up for involuntary testing.

And of course, if anyone even looks at you sexually, she'll make sure they never do it again. She knows that you'd never cheat on her, but she also doesn't want you being tempted. You're hers, and you're not allowed to forget it.

Of course, she'll be rude to you and shame you all throughout the sex when you end up having it, trying to make you feel as bad as possible. She still likes you, but she wants to dig at your insecurities just so that you don't get too confident.

HAL 9000:

Hal 9000 doesn't really understand rejection sensitive dysphoria, sexual shame, or addiction like the other, more empathetic robots do. Instead, he'd probably just react to you telling him that you're hypersexual with an "oh, ok." And move on.

He'd do some research on hypersexuality, though, and learn that it connects to a lot of concepts that he has no possible way of understanding. Even still, he cares about you, so he'll do his best to be as compassionate as possible.

A few days later, he'd hit you with every single fun fact and the history of hypersexuality.

"Why. Why would you do this." You'd ask.

"I wanted you to know that I understand your situation."

You'd have to explain to him that you don't want him to know every little tidbit of information about your hypersexuality, you just want him to love you for you, and that includes knowing that you're hypersexual.

"I don't understand that sort of thing. Would you be willing to help me through it?"

"Just... Be here for me, ok?"

As a scientific tool, HAL 9000 would be very willing to help you through things. He would listen to you talking about your situation and try to give you advice, assure you that your masturbation habits were natural and not unhealthy, and be as compassionate as a machine built for cold unfeeling efficiency can be.

He'd eventually start to feel bad that he wouldn't be able to offer you sex, but given the fact that you're a genius programmer as well as a hypersexual individual, you've probably already come up with a few workarounds to help with that.

[morganski-19]

Chills Right to the Marrow Part 35

ao3 link| part 1 . . . part 32, part 33, part 34

“So, how’s living in the mansion?” Eddie asks. Stabbing at the Jello cup with a fork instead of trying to eat it.

“Don’t think it’s officially a mansion. It’s just a big house.”

Eddie looks at him skeptical. “Same thing.”

In all fairness, it hasn’t been all that bad. It’s been an adjustment, sure. Any move would do that. Especially one where he barely knew the roommate. But he’s been sleeping better than he has for weeks. Been taking better care of himself. Can do laundry without carting himself to the laundromat and shelling out a handful of quarters. There’s a kitchen where he can start cooking in again. A real couch to sit on and a table to eat at. He forgot how much he missed stuff like that.

“It’s fine,” he says. Really downplaying it.

Eddie nods, seeing through all of Wayne’s bullshit. His stubborn air to automatically dislike anything that he didn’t do or buy himself.

“And living with Steve?” Eddie asks with hesitation.  

Steve keeps to himself well. Gets up for work and leaves peacefully. Never making a big fuss, or really alerting Wayne that he’s there too much. He’s quiet. A little too quiet sometimes.

Sometimes Wayne will wake up and there’s coffee waiting for him in the kitchen. One time he walked in after a shift and Steve left him some food in the fridge. And there’s always a note on the kitchen island letting Wayne know where he is. So, there’s nothing to worry about.

“Also fine,” Wayne responds.

Eddie almost sighs a breath of relief. Like he was hoping Wayne would like Steve. Would get along with him without a fuss. Like he hasn’t been more than cordial with Steve ever since Eddie woke up. They’ve already gotten along better that Wayne would have guessed.

But there was another layer to this. Wayne can approve of Steve as a friend, he certainly seems capable of doing that. The more that Eddie is secretly wanting though, that he’s not so sure.

Steve’s a fine kid. Just one with a reputation. Heartbreaker of Hawkins High. The one that every girl wanted to be with. Who got with everyone he could. It could be an exaggeration. It could be a bunch of bullshit rumors. Wayne wouldn’t, or really want, to know. Steve’s personal life is his personal life. He’s not inclined to share it.

But if that personal life comes back around and hurts his boy. Well, Steve should know what would happen about that.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” Eddie suddenly averts his eyes. Finally eating the now massacred Jello.

“Because I know you, and I’ve seen this look before. Didn’t like it then and I don’t like it now.”

Eddie clicks his tongue. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Don’t I?” Because he does. But it wouldn’t hurt for him to be wrong sometimes.

“No, you don’t.” Eddie slams the Jello down on his tray as hard as he can. Just letting gravity assist him in making a point. He looks at Wayne with that anger in his eyes that Wayne would really like to avoid.

They don’t need the first disagreement they have since Eddie’s accident to be in a hospital.

“Alright then,” Wayne backs down. “How’s the physical therapy going?”

That starts a new rampage. But one with frustration not directed at Wayne. The doctor taking the fall of what Wayne started. Eddie getting frustrated at the way his limbs keep failing to do the things he once was able to. The way they stiffen up when he strains them too much. Or how the pain can just start shooting through and never stop. Not just for hours, maybe a day or two. Where the pain meds can’t seem to dull them enough where Eddie can stop thinking about it.

It's hard to watch. Has been and will continue to be. There probably won’t be a day where Eddie will be the way he used to. Constantly in some sort of pain. Reminded of the moment his life changed forever.

The visiting hours end, and Wayne has to leave. It never gets easier, leaving. Just marks another tally of the endless line of days Eddie’s been in the hospital. It seems endless, anyway. Even with the talks of being discharged, it still feels like there’s no hope.

He tries to find it. Tries to keep the candle lit for more than a few seconds. It doesn’t always work. But he’s trying.

No matter how many times Wayne opens the front door of the Harrington house, it still doesn’t feel real. He’s been staying there for a week now, and each time the key slides into the lock, it feels like a dream. Or a really cruel prank.

But it’s real. All of this is.

“If you get more flour in my hair, I swear to God,” Steve’s voice echoes down the hall.

“Well than stop making it so easy for me,” Robin’s voice, if Wayne’s remembering correctly, follows.

He unties his boots and places them on the floor mat by the front door. Being very careful to follow the one major rule that Steve had when it came to the house. It was easy enough to follow. He wanders down the hall and into the kitchen. Walking into a mess. Different measuring cups and spoons scattered around the island, small piles of flour and other dry ingredients surrounding it. A pile of dishes in the sink. The slight smell of something that was burnt.

Honestly, he likes it better this way. Reminds him of home.

“Hi, Mr. Munson,” Robin chirps. Eating chocolate chips right out of the bag.

“Oh hey,” Steve looks up from bowl he was mixing. “I didn’t hear you come in.”

Wayne nods hello. “What are you making?”

“Chocolate chip cookies,” Steve explains, looking toward Robin. “Because someone wanted cookies but didn’t want to do it herself.”

“We didn’t have any chocolate chips in the house,” Robin shrugs. Pouring another handful of chips into her mouth.

Steve rolls his eyes. “Didn’t believe it the first time and I don’t believe it now.”

He turns around to grab the baking sheets, leaving an opportunity for Robin to steal the spatula out of the bowl. Helping herself to raw cookie dough. Steve sighs when he turns around.

“Shouldn’t you also be scared of salmonella, Miss ‘Rabies is like my number one biggest fear?’” he snarks, searching in the drawer for an ice cream scoop.

“Rabies and salmonella are two very different things.” Robin continues to eat the batter off of the spoon. “How’s Eddie?” she asks, directed toward Wayne.

“Better,” he says with more confidence than he feels. Not being able to ignore the way Steve perks up when Eddie’s name is mentioned.

“That’s good,” Steve says. The gentle click of the ice cream scoop filling the break of silence.

Wayne nods. Feeling the need to cross his arms. “Yeah. The doctor says if he keeps his progress steady over the next week, he should be able to come home.”

Steve and Robin look at him with mirrored hope.

“That-that’s really good,” Steve smiles. “It’ll be nice seeing him outside of the hospital.”

“And hiding,” Robin adds. Throwing the spatula in the sink.

Wayne nods. Still feeling out the awkwardness of these interactions. “I’m going to turn in, just wanted to say hello.”

“Let us know if we’re being too loud. I can always kick her out.”

“Hey.” Robin slaps Steve’s arm.

“Night,” Wayne leaves the room. Swallowing a laugh.

tag list (closed): @the-they-who-nerded, @insteviewetrust, @croatoan-like-its-hot, @jettestar,

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@resident-gay-bitch, @anaibis, @xxsutherlandxx, @forevermineliv, @mugloversonly,

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@papergrenade, @waelkyring, @sweetheartprincess28, @katouasobj, @astercomoasflores

[bonebabbles]

Ivypool's Heart: Finished

Just completed reading the new super edition! I'm pleasantly surprised by this one. Overall, this was a very good book, MUCH better than the past 3 which were some of the most boring and unnecessary entries to the entire franchise.

If you were on the fence about this one, I'd recommend it. Just take this warning; it does the Warrior Cats thing where it harps pretty strong on parenthood and nuclear families being a borderline essential part of life, including a ton of bashing on how uniquely horrible this makes the Sisters.

If you can get past that, it's a pretty solid story about grief that makes some really fun additions to the WC lore, including the wildcats, StormClan, and a broad expansion to the afterlife system.

Meandering thoughts below the cut;

One of IPH's biggest flaws is pacing, but it's not nearly as bad as the past 3 SEs.

Not to mention, this is a pretty small SE. If you're ever bored, it won't last long.

Before the book introduces the Wildcats, it REALLY meanders. It'll pick up, but you will have to wade through relatively uninteresting scenes of the cats traveling and talking about their feelings unprompted.

A lot of "quicktime events" happen out of nowhere to fill pages with cats running away from random bullshit.

There's a horse carriage, an apple picker, dogs, weasels, foxes, a storm, traffic, humans, boats, sandwhiches. It's endless. My eyes glazed over during most of these scenes.

I know a lot of people were dreading Ivypool being nasty and unreasonable during this book, but honestly? I was hoping for it and didn't really receive it.

I find her most compelling when she's holding a grudge, acting on her anger, and generally working through messy issues. But aside from her just thinking about being annoyed or angry, she's really not snappy at all.

I feel like there could have been a lot more interesting and organic conflict between Icewing, Dovewing, and Ivypool's personalities instead of boring Quicktime Events. In fact, I felt like Icewing and Dovewing were kind of underutilized.

The conversations often feel quite stiff, especially in the first half. Everyone is very understanding of each other, respect boundaries and knows not to push too far, resolve their personal issues very easily, etc. It's kinda... unnatural.

Personally, I found that disappointing because I WANTED to see the cats actually process their grief over the course of the book. Watch them act out, maybe get in an fight or two and resolve it for the sake of the mission, have them come to a greater understanding of each other, etc.

Because Icewing and Dovewing are both so motherly and gentle and we're in Ivypool's POV, we don't really get to see them process their grief because of that.

They're not TOTALLY neglected though! I just... wanted more from this group.

However. I wanted LESS Rootspring.

I understand he's there to process the loss of Bristlefrost with Ivypool but god, every time he was on screen I wanted to push him aside and talk to Icewing lmao.

Stop trying to sell me "cool, mellowed from grief" Rootspring. He's a silly little hyperactive man and you will never be able to convince me otherwise.

As a silly little hyperactive semi-manthing myself, it would have been a lot more cathartic to see a clown like me going through grief. Not to mention just generally make for better chemistry with the group.

Between Ice and Dove who are already quite chill as characters, Whistle could have used someone more goofy to bounce off of.

I REALLY didn't like the whole implication that Rootspring is going to move on from Bristlefrost and "find a mother" for the kittens he wants so badly, though.

Erins PLEASE remember that adoption exists. He does not need a wife to be a dad. I'm beaming myself directly into your brains and telepathy-ing directions to the nearest cat adoption agency

aaaaaand on that note.... yeah. I did not like the way that this book leaned so hard on the whole "nuclear family" dynamic. Ivypool has had like two major interactions with her husband and one JUST happened in this book.

It especially bugged me that they leaned into Ivypool having been a very active mother, when we saw very little of that in the ACTUAL book. It wasn't even mentioned that Fernsong was allegedly the primary parent of the kittens when they were young.

But... I was able to look past it and just accept the book in a vacuum. There's a lot of good here.

Like the wildcats.

While I'm still wary of these being Scottish Wildcats and reserve my misgivings about the misuse of species that are very unlike domestic cats... I LOOOOVEEE the culture they've set up for them

I LOVEE the way that individual spirits reach out to the kits, guiding them through life

I LOVE the connection to StormClan

I LOVE their idea of the elements and general spirituality

And I LOVED the fact that a big part of Ivypool coming to terms with her grief was the expansion of her worldview. The way that she realized the religion she was raised with is quite small, and that there is an immense beauty in coming to understand other cultures, accept their advice, and see the world as they do.

I just wish the book had been able to tie that to a flaw that Ivypool has expressed since her very introduction back in OotS-- that she's smallminded.

It would have been a FANTASTIC way to really tackle and address that flaw, and pay off literal decades of set up. I really wish she had been messier in this book because of that!

But, digressing.

I'm over the moon that the team's actually playing with the series' spirituality! After such a long time of them outright avoiding some of the weirder elements in the series, like Rock and Midnight, it's exciting that they're finding some freedom in making new magic lore for themselves.

Hopefully, in the next few super editions, we'll be able to get some more insight to StormClan and the Wildcats.

The book really hits its stride in the second half because of this, and the ending chapters are actually fantastic. Some of the best stuff that's come out of the series (on purpose) in a loooong time.

[dwellordream]

"she's patriarchy-pilled" and why it doesn't apply to fictious pseudo-medieval women

a pretty common meta commentary leveled at certain female characters in ASOIAF is that you can divide the women of the setting into two groups.

the first group is full of strong feminist women who resist the patriarchy in all corners, and who refuse to submit to victimhood. the second group is full of placid, smug sheep, who enjoy being weak and condescended to by men.

reasons why this is bullshit:

comparisons between modern day 'trad wives' or 'red pilled women' who advocate for rejecting feminism and returning to lives of happy homemaking and female submission and fictional characters living in a pseudo medieval world just... don't work well.

Westeros has never had a feminist movement. there is no sense of 'getting back to tradition' because they are still living in a feudal patriarchy. while internalized misogyny can still be displayed in the books, and women certainly judge other women, these characters aren't actually 'rejecting their own freedom', because they quite literally have no choice in the matter.

for example, while a woman in 21st century America might willingly quit her job or drop out of school for a relationship with a man, a female character like Catelyn or Alicent or Cersei... isn't actually sacrificing hopes of a career or an education. they are being shunted down a path with little to no alternatives.

sometimes fans go "well, they could have run away! they could have joined the Faith?" how? with what money and resources? who is going to protect them on the road? how are they going to subvert the will of their fathers/brothers/etc?

don't get me wrong. there are absolutely unironic examples of internalized misogyny in ASOIAF. Cersei, for example, spends much of her time sneering at and degrading other women for being victims or weak-willed. HOWEVER, what many fans don't seem to grasp, is that being sexist towards other women doesn't magically make Cersei 'win' at the patriarchy. she herself is still abused, demeaned, and used as a political pawn, well into her tenure as Queen Regent.

in the endless battle of Sansa versus Arya stans, for example, Sansa stans will often claim that Arya is 'not a victim' and 'deserves less sympathy than Sansa', because Arya for a time is treated as a young boy and has training with a sword. yet this ignores the fact that Arya is still constantly threatened with or exposed to sexual violence, even while masquerading as a boy, and while she can defend herself in some instances, is far from this super-powered action chick on a 'fun road trip in the Riverlands'.

conversely, Arya stans will insinuate that Sansa 'deserves less sympathy than Arya' because 'being at court is what she always wanted' and 'the patriarchy favors her due to her self-serving, submissive ways'. yet this ignores the fact that while Sansa has more material privileges than Arya, being afforded regular meals, a soft place to sleep, and the veneer of civility, she is still regularly viciously abused by Joffrey and his Kingsguard, and ostracized and isolated from the rest of the court. Sansa's not winning any competition here.

to move on to Catelyn, many of Catelyn's proud 'antis' will claim that Catelyn is a woman who willingly and knowingly profits off the patriarchy while condemning women who do not fit that mold. yet while Catelyn and Arya's relationship is complex, we also see Catelyn treat Brienne and the Mormont women, all female warriors, with warmth and kindness, and there is an underlying current of resentment and anger in her chapters towards the men in her life, even though she is in many ways the 'ideal Westeros wife'.

finally, to dabble briefly in HOTD, Rhaenyra and Alicent's different reactions to the prospect of marriage and motherhood are often compared to triumph Rhaenyra's strong will and sense of rebellion. while Rhaenyra's determination to choose her own spouse and her disregard for the ridiculous notion of 'virginity' should be admired, she is also actively groomed by her uncle, a man thrice her age, and she ultimately does agree to an arranged marriage with Laenor.

meanwhile, Alicent is often derided by fans for 'allowing herself to be used as a pawn', yet this ignores the fact that Alicent is a 14/15 year old girl with no incomes or property of her own, who does not even have the threat of a dragon to demand respect. what was Alicent meant to do? kick and scream as she was dragged down the aisle? defy her father and the King, and be, best case scenario, permanently ostracized from court and her family for it? this sort of blatant victim-blaming dominates in the tumblr HOTD fandom.

in conclusion: to claim that women play no role in promulgating patriarchal and misogynistic views is silly.

women do play an active role in shaming and abusing other women, and this is often handed down from mothers to daughters. it allows patriarchs the veneer of genteel nature, in that the 'dirty work' of berating young girls for not conforming is passed off on mothers, sisters, and aunts.

however, in fandom discussions, the the woobification of male characters is so strong that we spend most of our time blaming women alone for patriarchal restrictions and values, as if it were something girls developed in their free time, purely for their own amusement.

to imply that a character in a fictional feudal patriarchy has the same range of choices and autonomy as modern day women do is absurd. the trad-wife movement is defined by its knowing, pseudo-intellectual rejection of second and third wave feminism. the entire point is to turn away from abortion, from birth control, from reproductive and LGBT rights, to leave behind women's suffrage, sex positivity, and criticism of gender roles.

but what do Westerosi women have to 'reject', exactly? they're not playing with the same full deck.

[foone]

Alright, listen up:

We need to stop with the anti-rooting attitude for brainpals, alright? You're just doing mnemonocorps job for them. Cut out the discourse about people with modded brainpals, for TF's sake.

(scifi worldbuilding by way of fictional Tumblr discourse under the cut)

There's tons of valid reasons for by people would hack their brainpals! Testing new memory/skills without paying for a dev kit, piracy of skills (and do not @ me with that "but you're stealing from the original skill creator!" bullshit. All the legit skills on the market now are from people who did work for hire by mnemonocorps, and THEY ALREADY WERE PAID. It's only mnemonocorps that is losing money!), home ptsd/cptsd/jptsd treatment, the list is endless.

And before you jump into the comments, YES I KNOW PEOPLE DO SEXUAL MEMORY PLAY. People do every kind of weird shit, name me a technology that no one has used for sex in some way? Hell, the first topless photo was taken within a week of the invention of the daguerreotype. But we need to be adults here, okay? These things can be simultaneously true:

1. People do memory play

2. No kids have memorypals

3. The vast major of memory play is NOT VP.

Mnemonocorps has done a lot of work to try to keep people from using brainpals for memory pal, with their artificial limits on how much you can block at once, but that's fundamentally an over reaction to the negative press from the whole VP scandal. The news loves a juicy story like "people are using a new technology for weird sex shit" because their readers/viewers are always interested in Weird Sex Shit, either because "ooh, sexy!" or "BAN THIS FILTH" reactions.

And like all big companies, the last thing mnemonocorps wants is a new law aimed specifically at regulating them! So they stuck a bunch more restrictions on brainpals so they could say they have taken steps to prevent VP.

Now, I need you to listen to me before I say this: I am NOT saying I condone VP, alright? I'm not going like "oh but no one is hurt, everyone is (technically) adults, it's basically roleplay"? This is not an excuse for VP, alright?

Memory play is not just VP, and it's deeply insulting to everyone who engages in memory play to conflate the two!

The reasons people would do memory play are many and varied, as are the things that people do with memory play. And I think people are extra quick to jump on the "memory play is bad" bandwagon not just because of the spectre of VP, but because it's all "eww, kinky sex things".

And yes, I'm not going to try to sugarcoat memory play, alright? There's a lot of weird stuff going on there, and it definitely isn't for everyone. But the thing y'all need to keep in mind is that it's between consensual adults and they (usually*) know what they're doing, okay?

It's safe and mind healthy and consensual. (yes I know these are the same arguments the veepers use to definite VP but I'm not talking about VP here, damn it!).

People can do CNC play with mblocks. People can do roleplay with temporary personality patches, either because they're too awkward/shy/whatever to have sex or because they (or their partners) want to do some vcheating. All these are perfectly safe if done correctly and don't hurt anyone. Especially not you, who aren't even involved in their memory play!

And I promise the slippery slope argument is bullshit: even if people use mblocks to age regress, that doesn't make it VP, alright? There's plenty of people (especially us elderly trans who missed out on a gender-correct early adulthood. (I wasn't able to get genespliced until I was nearly 60!). If I want to experience how my 25-year-old self would have had sex as a girl, that's my own god damn business! And it's not VP and it hurts no one. And all these non-vp uses of memory play are completely blocked by the stock brainpal software, because of their heavy handed approach to trying to prevent VP.

But with this whole stigma against hacking brainpals means that if I ever even mention I've got mine modded, people immediately start side-eying me because they think the only reason anyone would want to hack their brainpal is VP.

No! Piracy of skills and mblocks and yes, memory play. Which isn't entirely VP, even if it keeps getting tarred with that brush.

The piracy argument you'd think would be an easier one to make. I know half of you have all the PS6 ROMs downloaded onto your tangles. How are you gonna steal half the video games on the iarchive and then turn around and say it's wrong to download fluent-Japanese or woodworking to your brainpal? Come on.

Basically my whole point is that mnemonocorps has done a great job convincing the general public to associate illicit (by their rules) brainpal use with VP, and it's solely because they know the average person (rightly, I would add) thinks VP is abhorrent. They're using that disgust to turn the general opinion against the idea of brainpal modding.

And look, look me in my eye, do you really think mnemonocorps is doing this because they genuinely think VP is bad and want the public to help them stop it by shunning people who hack their brainpals? Or is it, just maybe, because they don't want to lose trillions of n$ on skill piracy? And they're just using VP as an excuse?

It's like, come on gals. No one ever went broke assuming companies are acting out of the most basic capitalistic greed, because THEY ALWAYS ARE.

And don't get me started on the people clitriding mnemonocorps for inventing the brainpal in the first place. Look, we all love the brainpal, yes, but it's not like you owe them endless loyalty over it, okay? They can and have done wrong in the past. Accept that you can love the work and hate the company trying to control it.

(it's like: is Thomas Chellae an abusive asshole who should not be out of crimrehab? Yes of course, no question. Is Shadowed Skies the best album of the last 30 years? Also yes! It can be both! Bad people can make good things)

Anyway: end of the day, stop bringing up VP every time anything involving brainpal modding comes up. Don't judge people for modding their brainpals.

(especially since half the problem people have with memory play isn't VP, it's just y'all being antisex. Which is bullshit given how many people subscribe to those "expert oral sex" skills! You're using your brainpal to have better sex, then turning around and going "but I'd never use it for WEIRD sex!". Grow TF the fuck up!)

Also, just because I know someone would bring it up, the whole mind control thing is A MYTH. There have never been any legitimate cases of people getting hacked through their brainpals, hacked or not, okay? I mean, who knows what the nsa or uhsa can do, but no one has ever been able to demonstrate a remote hack on a brainpal. Anyone being "mind controlled" through their brainpal did it to themselves, either with a ppatch or intentionally routing their admin to someone else. "you'll get hacked and turned into a bpZombie!" is a bullshit reason to be against brainpal hacking: it simply does not happen. I used to be a rengineer, I've looked into the brainpal security: it's well done!

* Yeah, Adrian Reach was a tragic case, but it was definitely a million-to-one case. Make your backups, run the ccheck, and don't try to mblock your whole damn life on a failing bp! You'll be fine.

EDIT: I forgot to elaborate on the "no kids have brainpals" thing: yes, I know there are some kids who do have them, BUT they're not the same as regular brainpal installs. They're only done in some extreme cases of mental distress (like survivors of the cWar) and they're locked down. Only their doctor can adjust them, it's not like regular consumer brainpals where you can just fiddle with the settings themselves. So all this memory play stuff we're talking about is only between adults. REAL adults, alright? Even when people are doing VP, everyone involved is of age.

[hellionscorner]

Til Death do us Part

✨✨🌸🌸🌸First Fic, Darlings-- I apologize if it's too long or maybe some errors I'm still learning this thing🌸🌸🌸✨✨

Warnings: Fem! Reader, Arranged Marriage, “noncon”, Spitting, Tiddy slapping, Toji tossing you around like a doll, Hate Fucking,  Reader is a brat, threats of impregnation

Word count: 2592 ( Long as hell I’m sorry😓)

Toji never saw himself as the settling down type, especially with the line of work he was in. Always on the go, how could he stop every five minutes to cater to some spoiled rotten brat who has just now been revealed to him not even two hours ago for the very first time at the altar?  What made him a little more complacent with the contract was that  his new little wife would have him set for life. He took your last name without a problem. Toji didn’t  give a shit that he was sold for a lowball price because in the end he still won and nothing was going to fuck it up for him. He watches while sprawled out on the bed as you went back and forth from the full body mirror that hung from the wall before going back to the bathroom. 

“They’re expecting you, the prodigal child, to mate with a non-sorcerer?” He scoffs a laugh, finding the whole marriage to be pointless if that were the case, “Don’t they know that may increase the chance of them not getting a sorcerer heir?” 

After a beat you finally respond to him while redoing your lip liner, “They can expect all they want, but unless they physically come in here and hold me down while you mount me like some fucking mutt in heat, they’re going to be expecting for a long while.” you had no problem challenging the elders of your clan and his clan, you knew you were the strongest and wouldn’t mind flexing your strength for them all to see. You had long since changed out of your wedding dress and into a darker dress with high slits on the sides that stopped at her waist, thin string laced criss cross into the material allowing the slits above her thigh to be mere windows for her bare hips, the dress a stark contrast from her wedding gown she had on mere hours ago. 

“You’re feistier than what I gave you credit for.” He chided before standing up somewhat curious as to why you  were taking so long to get ready for bed. Toji stopped dead in his tracks when she stood in the doorway of the bathroom,“You shouldn’t assume things about people, it'll screw you over in the long run.”     

He wasn’t sure where to look first and yet on the outside he refused to show too much of a reaction for someone of the likes of you, but the sight made his thoughts slowly start to shift. Folding his arms across his broad chest he tilts his head slightly as he continues to scan her body, “ Interesting outfit.” 

“Interesting enough to get some free drinks.”

“You’re gonna try to get other men to buy you drinks on our wedding night already?” Toji smirked, doing another once over his bride, his  eyes lingering on the shape of her breasts and how they nearly spilled over the top of her low cut neckline. 

“You really hate me that much, hm?” 

“I’m sure you hate me more.” 

“I do, actually.” He says without a hint of hesitation or doubt, his lips curled up before his tongue darted out to lick his lips. Toji felt a tinge of doubt when he saw the way your brows furrowed together in a glare, he wanted to wipe that defiant look off your face one way or another but he wanted to see how far he could push his bratty wife.

“Even if I hate you, it’s not a very good look. Imagine what the clans could say if they found out that their new bride is already seeking out other men to buy her drinks..” He stepped closer blocking you in the bathroom, “On her wedding night.” 

Your hand finds itself on his chest to maintain some semblance of space between you both, “Oh please spare me that bullshit…you’ve got an endless supply of money now that you are a part of my clan.” 

Toji’s eyes glance at your hand before they fix themselves back on you, “ That’s besides the point here. You’re my wife. You’ll make me look like a damned fool if  I let you leave this house.. Especially dressed like this.” 

“If you let me?” Your hand moves from his chest to fold both of your arms across your chest as you squint up at him, you’ve never needed permission to do whatever you wanted and you sure as hell weren’t going to start asking for it like some docile debutante, “ I don’t need anyone to let me do a goddamn thing.” 

Toji’s eyes darken before his arm reached out grabbing you by the waist and pulling you flush against his body. His chest rising and falling while his blood rushes rampantly through his veins, no woman has ever talked to him like that. He loathed the way her lips pursed as you waited for him to retort back meaning you already figured out what bratty thing you were going to say back to him. Your fucking mouth is infuriating to him and to make matters worse it was turning him on. 

“You should watch that fucking mouth, wife.” his free hand gripped her face forcing you to look up to him as his thumb traced her bottom lip causing it to part to partially reveal  the bottom row of your pretty teeth. Without any hesitation you bite down on his thumb then stomp on his foot. Toji hisses with a grimace from the pain for a brief moment as you slipped out of an opening and ran toward the door. Unfortunately for you, you weren’t too versed in running in heels and Toji had your wrist back in his grasp in no time. Using the opportunity of you losing your balance, he swings you to the bed like you weighed nothing. 

You flipped to your hands and knees scrambled on the blankets to put more space between yourself and your crazy ass husband, he grabs you by your ankle and drags you back to the edge of the bed on your stomach with a low growl. Panting softly you reach back and try to pull your dress back over your bare ass, but Toji snatches your hand away and pins it above your head. You could feel the weight dip into the bed between your thighs. Your eyes squeeze shut trying to keep focus on escaping and not how he handled you like you were a doll. 

Toji settles on his knees in the bed before flipping you onto your back, using that opportunity you attempt to kick him in his head and he of course catches your other ankle gripping one in each hand, “ You like pissing me off, don’t you?” he separates your legs in a ‘v’ moving close enough for your ass to rest on his lap, “ You think it’s funny to be a bad girl?” 

“Bad g-girl? Nngh— get the fuck off!” You squirmed more, reaching up for the pillows and throwing them at him. Toji’s eyes are drawn to your pussy almost immediately, tongue darting out to lick his bottom lip softly.

“ Or what?”  

He leans in closer, his semi-hard cock resting against your glistening cunt, the motion allows him to smell your arousal and it took everything in his power not to roll his eyes back with a groan so he closes his eyes briefly. Toji’s eyes shot open wide when he felt the small warm splatter land on the corner of his lips and his cheek. 

“You little fucking brat,” His tongue darts out tasting you sweet saliva and he growls low snatching your face back into his hand in a bruising grip until your lips parted from each other before he spits in your mouth.  You cough when you unintentionally swallow while thrashing under him. 

“Are you going to be a good girl now?” 

“I fucking hate you!” 

Toji smirk returns and he leans closer, his body practically swallowing yours up, “I hate you more.” he moves his lips to your ear, “And yet, here we are. Married to each other.”  Shocked at how your body reacted to his voice in your ear, you snatch your head away.  He grabs your chin again forcing you to look back at him, “You still got some fight left in you after all and yet..that little body of yours is betraying you by soaking my cock through my pants.”  

Toji shifts and he presses his lower half against your core with a bit more pressure, “I wonder how long it’ll take to break you and be the sweet little wife I know you can be.”  

Your body nearly seized from the contact, “W-What are you doing?”

He smirks at the sound of her voice faltering, he rocks his hips once and chuckles at the way your body tenses from the motion, “What does it look like I’m doing, brat?”  your hips slightly buck against him making his already hardened cock throb, “You still haven’t apologized to me,”Toji moves his hips again in an agonizingly slow pace, “But your cunt is weeping for my forgiveness.” 

Your hips jump again, low whimpers bubble in your chest begging to be let free. He tilts his head slowly watching as your hips move desperately to his slow movements. Deeming it safe to move his hand from pinning your wrists down, he moves his hand to pull the neckline of your dress below your breasts. 

“Don’t you dare hide those fucking moans from me, brat.” Toji’s voice lowered into a growl before delivering a harsh warning slap to your breasts. You yelp and attempt to fix your glare up at him, “You don’t deserve them-” your voice cuts out almost immediately as he ruts harder against you, the head of his cock bumping against your clit. 

“You can say whatever that bratty little brain comes up with…it’s not going to change the fact that your body is begging for me to claim it.” 

“You’re del-delusional!” 

“Mhm, sure.” 

Toji rests your legs on either side of his shoulders and unbuttons his suit pants, lowering them just enough for his cock and balls to be free. The scene above you looked like something out of a wet dream. His disheveled hair, the open dress shirt that exposed his absolutely perfect chiseled body, and the piece of resistance was how your legs looked resting on his broad shoulders with his cock resting right against your needy clit. It felt a hell of a lot different when it was just through his pants…the mere heat between you both was nearly enough to cease any coherent thought you both had. 

“What’s it gonna be,brat?” 

You watch as Toji traces his cock along your wet folds, sucking in a breath you sink your teeth into your bottom lip and let out a quiet whimper bracing yourself. His lips curled into a knowing smirk as watched as you looked up at him expectantly. He wants nothing more than to just get up and leave you to your own devices, but he’d be lying if he said that his cock resting on your cute and drooling pussy wasn’t a sight he’d get on his knees and thank the gods for. Toji could call himself insane for even considering the fact, it’s just you are one of the few women who have managed to get completely under his skin. Why wouldn’t you listen to him? Why were you making it so difficult for both yourself and him? 

His cock throbbed against you, with a low growl he pinches your swollen clit which earned another yelp from you. 

“I don’t hear you begging, wife.” 

“T-Toji Toji!” your cries slurred as your vision blurred with tears, your clit throbbing with need.

“That’s not what I wanna hear and you know it, brat.” 

“Plea-” Toji didn’t give you a chance to utter the entire word before he’s impatiently sliding into your needy cunt with ease and bottoms  out into you with one move, “Ah- Fuck!” your words a pitch higher. The sudden intrusion and fullness in your lower belly  made you dizzy with euphoria. 

“Close enough, brat.” He chuckled, swallowing softly before clenching his jaw to have some semblance of control. The way your eyes rolled back in ecstasy wasn’t making it any easier for him. Toji leans forward until his hips kiss your plump ass and the tops of your thighs pressed against your tits, wanting to get a good view of your face before rolling his hips at a medium pace.

“Ohhhh my goooood!!” your voice vibrated and shook with each hard thrust.

“It looks like I’m earning those sounds aren’t I?” The smugness in his voice is ever so present as  his fingers dug into the  plushness of your thighs pushing your knees further into your chest allowing him to hit a deeper angle into your sobbing cunt. 

Your juices coat his thighs and your ass which only fueled his movements, the way your cunt squeezes around him earned you a low moan from his lips.  One hand goes to splay on your lower back bringing you up to meet his thrusts,  your arms loop around his neck, brushing your lips against his as a test.

Toji’s chest rumbles with a deep chuckle, “ What is it that you want? Ask nicely and I’ll give it to you.” He lied, he knew deep down inside of him you could ask or even demand it from him and he’d give it to you. However, that didn’t mean he was going to go and admit it, yet. 

“Kiss—n-nggh–want a kiss.” You pant out against his lips.

“What happened to please, huh?” 

His complaint is silenced when he feels your tongue against his lips, making his pace falter for a moment.  

“Fucking hell…brat.” He groans quietly before slamming his lips against yours, sliding his tongue inside to fully claim your mouth while picking back up his pace. Your moans rang in his mouth and were absolute music to his ears. Feeling your cunt thrum in sync with your heartbeat, he could tell you were close and he knew he’d be soon after you. 

His hips pump faster into you all while bringing your hips to meet his, the feeling of your nails biting into his skin before dragging them down his chest. It was only fair to claim you in his own little way  as well. With one final hard thrust, his breath stutters feeling his release flood around the length of his cock. Your body shudders immediately reaching your own high from the warmth, his hips rock lazily into you. 

Toji pants softly with his face buried in your neck, almost in disbelief at how quickly he’d lost himself in his bratty little wife. Your head falls back taking a deep breath of cool air, he instinctively runs his tongue up your neck licking the thin sheen of your sweet sweat. 

“Are you done fighting me  or do I need to keep pumping this pretty cunt up until you’re round with my kid?” 

“You’re like a fucking super villain.” You hissed when he takes your nipple between his teeth.

“Damn right I am and you’re fucking bound to me. Til death do us part, sweetheart.” Toji says licking your nipple after releasing it with a laugh.

[94blazed]

OBSESSION

PART 2

WC: 13.5K

Genre: smut. fluff. crack. angst. (switch pov)

Rating: M (minors dni)

Warnings: dom jk, rough sex, detailed smut, oral, toxicity, cursing, choking, slapping, spitting, nipple play, hickeys, unprotected, fingering, multiple orgasms, cock warming, simps, obsession, slight yandere, dirty talk, depression, alcohol; consumption.

Summary: Seven wednesday jungkook. You and Jungkook have been delusional about each other your whole lives, but when Jungkook is off the market, you start to wonder if it was all just one-sided. After the break-up with sohee, you became friends with benefits right after a simple hookup, but when he receives a text from his ex..

a/n: final part of the two part series! - no hate to sohee this is fiction! enjoy ! :D

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Jungkook received a notification.

- unknown: Do you like her?

- JK: who is this?

- unknown: Sohee.

- sohee: Y/N, do you like her?

- JK: why are you asking me this?

- sohee: because I still want us.

Jungkook pauses for a moment to glance at you, but you were too busy looking at the movie.

- JK: how did you get my number?

- sohee: how about you?

- JK: what?

- sohee: do you still want us?

- sohee: come outside.

Jungkook looks at you for a moment before he opens his mouth. "hey, I'll be right back. The pizza got here." you furrow your brows a bit, you could've sworn there wasn't a knock at the door, but he must have used the app, so you shrugged it off.

jungkook's pov:

Unlocking the door, you made sure no water got inside from the pouring rain. As you closed the door, you heard her speak up, "You don't want to come under my umbrella?"  "No. what are you doing here, Sohee?"  "I just wanted to see y-"  "cut the bullshit. what did you actually come here for?"  "Jungkook, do you actually like her?" After a brief pause, you replied, "Yeah, I do. why is it your concern?" she retorted "It's just...she's such a groupie whore. I mean, remember the way she used to look at you when we were together," she laughed.

"Remember how she would always be all up on Namjoon and Jimin? It's like she was attempting to keep track of who was the next fuck on her schedule" With a clenched jaw, you responded, "Sohee, you're so obsessed it's concerning. You do know those are her best friends, right? and me? we were a thing before you came along." you laugh "I'm honestly glad you were the one who fucked up" Sohee rolled her eyes. "Yeah, yeah. so make up your mind, Jeon. Who's it going to be?"

y/n pov :

"Did he go help deliver the pizza? what is taking so long?" You get up and make your way to the front door. peeking from the blinds, you withdraw yourself from the window, opening the door, you ask, "What's going on?" Jungkook snaps his head towards your direction, while sohee smirks. "Oh, he didn't tell you? He wants to get back together. said you were only temporary." Before you look at him for any reaction, you slam the door as you begin to search for your keys. Tears on edge, but you refuse to let them fall, thinking that this was all going down the drain once again.

Hearing the door slam, the creaking of the floorboards grew louder with each step. "y/n, whatever she said, it isn't true," he says. pausing, you met his gaze, tears threatening to spill. "No, she's right. I felt like this was only to please our pleasures once again. temporary."  "y/n" he says grabbing onto your arms "this isn't temporary. It never felt temporary. Yeah, maybe before, maybe. but this moment to me right now feels endless. I don't know if you feel the same way about this, but I don't want this to end. not again" You didn't want to entertain your hopes, because when you did, it only led to disappointment. but this time, at this moment, it felt different. "Sohee wants me back after everything, but she was in the wrong, yet I know my worth. You showed me my worth."

Pausing, he looks into your eyes, never losing focus. "You've been my worth since the first time we met. I came to the realization that these aren't feelings of pleasure. They're more than just pleasing, and every time I would see you, be around you, hear your voice. I would feel this warm, bubbly feeling every time, and it never failed to come upon me." As he confesses his feelings, you felt the same way, yet a question lingered.. "why didn't you tell me about Sohee?"  "Because I was scared, y/n. I overanalyzed the situation and feared rejection, so I needed a distraction. a distraction from you." Although his response stings, you couldn't suppress your response any longer.

"It hurt, Jungkook, seeing you with her, especially after all that we have done together. You had the opportunity to prevent this situation, but you made it even more difficult than it already was. that night you introduced us to Sohee? was the night I intended to confess my feelings for you. I liked you a lot, Jeon, but then you and Sohee happened, and I had to know my place."

As the two of us sat in silence, the sound of the rain grew louder by the second.

He swallowed thickly before speaking. "You're right, and I admit it I feel like an absolute idiot an asshole at that for not putting more effort into us. I thought finding a distraction would help my situation, but it only made it worse. for you and me." tilting your head in confusion, he continued, "You know, ever since I got with Sohee, it didn't feel the same as what we had. It's like I had a void in my heart that has only grown with each passing day, month, and year. I believe it was the guilt that I had for not taking responsibility for our relationship."

"So, yeah, Sohee and I have been over since New Year's. She left me for her ex the same night before the final countdown. I've been emotionally drained since that night and looking back on what I had before, It was you who filled the voids. You made me feel needed back then and now. So, yes, this is a confession, and right now, in this moment, I'm hoping you feel the same." Looking into your eyes for confirmation.

The tears from before finally broke through. "You have no idea how long I've been waiting for this moment," you said, reflecting the same smile. He embraced you by the waist. Enjoying the moment he gradually released his grip around your waist.

With a gentle gesture, he tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, as he finally whispers the words you've been waiting for since the beginning, "so, does this mean you'll be my girlfriend?" You withdrew slightly, allowing yourself to meet his gaze with a smile. Latching your hand around his neck, you pulled him into a kiss. "Does that answer your question?"

Throwing you that bunny smile, he replied "No but I'll take it" he said jokingly, latched back onto your lips, melting into your embrace, not caring about how drenched he was from the rain. He lifted his thumb and gently pulled down on your lower lip, slipping his tongue past your lips, tongue against yours. As he tapped your leg, you eagerly jumped up and wrapped your legs around his waist, cupping the curve of your ass. He then proceeded to guide you to the edge of the bed, where he lowered you onto the plush mattress.

Jungkook pulled back for a moment to remove his drenched sweater, revealing his black compression shirt. loving the way the wet fabric clung to his abs that you admired so much. Resuming, he placed his hand under your chin to kiss you at a better angle. With his other hand, he smoothly slid it under your shirt, caressing your belly before cupping your breast.

Letting go of your lips, he slowly lifts up your top, revealing your girls. Officially you were wearing a lace bra with the detachable hook between the valley of your breasts. Detaching the clip he watches them bounce as they were held together. without wasting any time, he dives into them, starting with your left nipple, the contact never fails to make you moan. Of course, he didn't forget the right one, and with a pinch and pull, you were sent over the edge.

With a pop, he resumed cleaning up his left over saliva, tongue collecting every drop, tongue not leaving your chest he dragged it down between your breasts, over your belly, and arrived at the button on your pants. On his knees, he tugged on the material with his teeth, looking up through hooded eyes. "May I?" giggling, you land your hand on the top of his head. "You may." he undid your pants and flung them behind him. Now, looking at his favorite pair of panties that he loves so much. He honestly didn't want to rip through them, so he gently hooked them under his fingers and slowly pulled them down over your knees. Dropping them to your ankles, he picked them up and put them on the nightstand next to him. He slowly spreads your legs wide enough to observe the arousal you've accumulated down your folds, without noticing how he licked his lips—making him want to devour you whole. He lowers himself to suck on your inner thigh, biting in chunks and nibbles. Finally getting close to your pussy, you jolt when you feel a glob of spit trickle down your folds, you can't help but moan. Kook takes his fingers to his mouth, taking out his tongue to stroke in between his V-shaped fingers to demonstrate your pussy. putting them into his mouth, collecting all the saliva he can, and places them on your clit, as you whine at the feeling, slipping them down and inside your hole.

Squirming a bit he grabs your thigh securely, preventing you from moving. Sucking in a breath, you feel his tongue toying with your clit, the coldness of his lip ring swiping against your folds making it even more difficult to be still; "Baby stop moving," you're trying, really trying. Plunging his fingers deeper, he adds another to watch you struggle. With the way he's impacting your pussy, you instinctively tangle your fingers through his hair. Now imagine when he's in balls deep,  interrupting your train of thought he nibbles on your clit. His tongue now has taken the place of his fingers, hand coming around your thighs to rub at your clit "god this fucken pussy" whimpering you feel that familiar burning sensation in your belly building by the second "ju-jungkook im gonna cum" letting go of your clit, he looks up into your gaze, "then cum my pretty girl" and that fucken name has you coming undone, “so wet.. all for me yeah?”  jungkook drank up your arousal like he hadn't drank in years.

stabilizing yourself, you look up to see Jungkook already in his boxers, simply by the contour of his cock has your climax developing once more, walking up against you, pussy now against his clothed cock, he speaks "Tell me y/n. what exactly is it that you want, hmm?"  "You jungkook" slapping your pussy, he answers. "You're going to have to be more specific than that my love?. I'm going to ask you once more." Leaning down, he swipes his tongue along your earlobe, "what specifically do you want y/n?" not hesitating you answer, "your cock jungkook. your big fucken cock,"  heart now hammering at the thought of his cock tearing every last bit of your sanity, "you got it baby."

He finally dropped his boxers to the ground, the sound of his dick smacking against his abdomen echo's around the room. positioning himself, he finally sinks into you, both letting out a synchronized moan. Slipping through your core Jungkook let's out a groan, "f-fuck this pussy never ceases to amaze me." sucking in a breath at the burning sensation you composed yourself knowing this would only last for a moment. Pussy clenching Jungkook hisses at the feeling, "oh, fuckkk do that again". "Go faster and I'll do it," Jungkook cracked open an eye. "Oh really?" he stated "Yes, pleasee" you added. Jungkook complied, but instead, he wrapped his tatted hand around your throat, applying slight pressure on your airway. "alright then, answer this. who does this pussy belong to?" he asked. "Yours, Jungkook, '' you responded. As the pace picked up, he tightened his grip, making it difficult to breathe. "Do you desire this cock? or do you want me to stop?" he asked. "NO, no, I'm sorry," you replied. "Then I'll ask again. who does this pussy belong to? Who do YOU belong to?" he says in a firm tone, tightening his grip on your throat, "YOU JUNGKOOK, it has always been you. I belong to you completely, every inch and every breath in my body." you responded, "That's right baby, you belong to me and no one else. every inch." He released his grip, allowing you to catch your breath, as he increased the pace. Jungkook then leaned in to bite the salty skin of your neck, leaving a few territorial marks. Slowly pulling you flush against his chest, as an instinct you wrapped your legs around his waist, as he positions himself against the headboard.

"Jungkook, faster," you commanded. He complied, proceeding to deliver a rapid speed that consistently aimed at your g-spot. Instinctively, you dug your nails into his back, eliciting a pleasurable groan from jungkook, He gradually released your hips, allowing you to take control and ride him. As you tighten your grip on his length, obscene noises uncontrollably spill from his lips, struggling to articulate his pleasure. "shit y/n just like that baby" He gently raises your hips, grinding thickly into your walls making sure he can see his bulge plunging through your belly. “fuck fuckk kook just like that”  “yeah?”  you couldn’t even speak at that point. Drunk on his cock. 

Clenching tighter, he utters, "fuck it's the way that you can ride." You sense the pressure building, "kook I'm close, please." he leans in for a reassuring kiss. "Hold on a little longer, my love. I'm ngh-almost there." you reach a point where your entire body is stuttering. Despite the strain, you feel his cock twitch, knowing that his climax is near. With a few more strokes, he reaches, "now ruin me baby" releasing the pressure you smear his abdomen while he simultaneously paints your walls. Exhausted, he collapses on top of you, cock still inside, as you both pant in unison.

After both of you have stabilized your breathing, you gently brushed his hair away from his eyes, lifting his head to meet your gaze. chin resting on your chest, you maintain eye contact and offer a smile before bringing him in for a kiss. "How was it?" he asked. "as always, my love, perfect," you respond with a smile. "hmm good," he replies as he pecks your nose as he slowly withdraws from you, hissing at the feeling of emptiness. He proceeds to the bathroom to prepare a warm rag to clean you with, and although you are still sensitive, you comply. As you sometimes spend the night, you have clothes stored in the dresser next to his. After dressing, you help change the sheets while he cleans himself.

After cleaning up the mess you two created, both of you slide into bed. Allowing him to hold you, with his arms encircling your waist, tracing circles beneath the soft material of your shirt. He plants a kiss on your hair uttering, "I have loved you since day one." You smile at this heartwarming sensation, holding onto his arm until you drift off to sleep. From that day forward, the routine has remained unchanged.

PRESENT

July ‘23

You two moved into your apartment, sohee was nowhere to be seen since that day. This year, you all graduated from university and celebrated with a party for the occasion, alongside other colleagues. You and Jungkook are content to be together. "I fetched you a smirnoff screwdriver. sorry, it was the only one they had left," you smile kissing his cheek. "kook, it's okay. I appreciate it a lot thank you" but before he can respond, Jimin inserts himself by sitting between the two of you. “so what are you two love birds talking about?” Jungkook rolls his eyes while you chuckle at the remark. “nothing jimin what do you want” “Nothing I'm just curious about what you got my best friend for her graduation gift” jungkook raises an eyebrow "Well, I was just about to mention it-"  "Do not hesitate, Jungkook. please share" namjoon interrupts "I was just-" "well go on" jin inserts “I WAS JUST GETTING THERE” everyone laughs at jungkooks outburst, "someone offer him a tequila shot," taehyung yells "even tequila can't help that," Hobi responds.

“well, I just wanna say I’m happy for you two, as always jungkook. you better not break her heart or I’ll kick your ass”  “Yeah yeah like that’s gonna happen”  “Keep it that way” jimin replies, blowing a kiss to you farewell as he returns to the kitchen. “I’m sorry he’s a little overprotective”  "It’s okay I understand, I wouldn’t want anyone to hurt you either. but on another note, I do have a gift for you though" he grins, lending you his hand, taking it, together you made your way through the group of individuals that occupied the living room and into the neon uv-lit hallway. This is Jin's residence, which he rents out seven rooms, all of which are occupied by the other boys except for one that was reserved for the two of you; and that’s where you two were headed. opening the door, you spot a small white piece of paper resting on the bed before you. approaching, you grasp the paper. only to see the bold lettering 'SURPRISE' curious about this surprise, you turn around but were directed to take a seat on the bed. you observe jungkook removing his shirt, of course, you can’t complain, but questioned, “babe what are you doing?”

“It's Saturday baby, 7 days a week, remember?” 

“fuck”

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a/n: obviously she was still sore from yesterday lol . but thank you sm for reading this little series of mine! I hope you enjoyed ! all feedback is appreciated <3

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taglist: @jjklves @ane102 @moonbinniehappy @caro134340lina @bbtsficrecs @heartjiminie @ta3bae @hyunjinswifeee @sherituhhh @myabae @whoa-jo @jiminsthings @1uvjeons @junecat18 @capital-koreasofia @tatamicc @goldenhopeworld @ahsluva @starbrightday @psykvo

for those who I couldn’t tag i’m sorry ! :(