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smutoperator · 4 months ago

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Schoolgirl Fantasies

Jang Kyujin x Male Reader

Tags: age gap, anal fingering, ass-to-pussy, (lots of) blowjob, BWC, creampie, daddy kink, deepthroating, facefucking, first anal, full nelson, lube, maknae, rimjob, schoolgirl, upskirt, teen, tight holes

Word Count: 4518

For more than a decade, you've been JYP's idols main outlet to satisfy the dirtiest fantasies. From Sunmi to Suzy, Sana to Sullyoon, Nayeon to Yeji, Momo to Yuna, every one of JYP's current and former top female idols has got a chance to enjoy some naughty times with you.

However, there is one idol still missing from your collection, but you're about to correct this mistake.

"Hi, daddy," Kyujin appears in your room, wearing a schoolgirl outfit. It's fairly simple but rather effective. One of those easiest fantasies that always work no matter which moment.

The age gap between you and Kyujin is quite astonishing. You're now 48 years old, no longer that vigorous stud that once took the virginity away from legends like Suzy. 30 years separate you from Kyujin. You could literally be her father, so her calling you Daddy actually makes some sense.

Kyujin is very cute but also exudes a nice sexiness. After all, she comes from a stacked lineage of JYP maknaes. Sohye, Suzy, Tzuyu, and Yuna all went through your hands before her, so you're already very curious to see how she looks. She teases you, lifting her skirt and rubbing her hands over her teen pussy, biting her lips as she's anxious for the experience her unnies already had.

"I heard rave reviews about you, Daddy, especially from Haewon, Sullyoon, and Bae unnies," Kyujin says. "You've been working for JYP since when I was just a kid, and now I finally got a chance to spend a day with you; what an honor," she continues.

"It's an honor meeting you too," you say to Kyujin. You let her tease you at first, as she takes her pink top off and shows you her perfect tits while touching her pussy. She makes some moves on the floor of your room, showing her dancing abilities, including a little bouncing to tease you about what she wants to do later. She stays on her knees on the floor, smiling at you and making moves with her tongue, before finally sitting on the legendary couch where some of the biggest JYP idols have enjoyed lots of sex and orgasms.

"How are you doing?" you ask Kyujin. "I'm doing great," she replies. Your moves are the same as to every first-timer; you just want to make them relaxed. "You're so beautiful; what's your name?" you ask her. "Kyujin," she says. You already knew the answer, but the first thing you need to do is make her comfortable.

"Are you gonna be my naughty schoolgirl today?" you ask another question. "I'll try," a shy Kyujin answers. You laugh. "Look at those nice boobs," you tell her. "You like them, Daddy?" she asks. "Of course," you say. "But they aren't as big as Jihyo unnie," she says. "They don't need to be," you tell her.

"Wanna play with them?" Kyujin asks. Of course you do, but you want to rather take it slow. "Stand up for me for a second," you say to her. "Let me look under your skirt," you tell her, staring at Kyujin's very short panties and sexy thighs.

"What's your main schoolgirl fantasy?" you ask Kyujin. "I want to fuck my professor or one of my classmates, but I'm scared of getting caught," she answers, laughing. "Then I'll make your wish come true; today I'm your sex professor, and you won't get caught," you tell her.

"Let me see those perky tits," you tell Kyujin, who pulls her bra to the side. "Now, I'm gonna make them a little shiny," you say, pouring a cold dose of lube on them. "Rub them for me," you ask her, who obliges.

Kyujin takes her bra completely off. "You know, most guys really have a bias between asses or tits. But I like them both equally. So turn around and show me that ass," you ask her, who shakes her sexy teen butt. "You know, usually I don't fuck a girl in the ass in the first time I meet her, but I think I'll make an exception for you," you say. "Oh, yes, please, I want you to fuck my virgin ass, just like you did to Yoona and Bae unnies before," she says.

Indeed, as Kyujin mentioned, she would be just one of many idols who got their first anal try with you. But unlike them, she wanted to have it in the first attempt. Damn, and you thought those JYP idols couldn't get sluttier, but they keep proving you wrong.

You also lube Kyujin's ass and let her spread it around her sexy young butt. "Take your panties off; let me see that young pussy and butthole," you order. "Are you ready for that, Daddy?" Kyujin asks. "I'm more than ready," you say, getting wowed at her young holes. "Look at my tight pink pussy, Daddy," she says to you.

Kyujin puts a pair of fingers up her tight asshole. She knows it won't be easy getting that cock in there. "I need to help myself and stretch my tiny virgin ass so you can pound it, Daddy," she laughs. "Keep stretching it; you're going to need it," you tell her, pouring some extra lube in her butt and letting Kyujin fist deep in that butthole.

"Oh, that ass is so fucking tight, daddy," Kyujin teases you. She's driving you insane, letting your perversions take over. You take your pants off and rub your cock against her pussy, making her moan. "Daddy is gonna fuck that teen pussy raw?" she asks.

You'd usually have some foreplay before shoving your cock inside an idol's fuckhole. But Kyujin's teen cunt is so enticing you are ready to throw that rule out of the window. "Oh yeah," she moans as you insert the tip of your massive shaft inside her pussy.

"Fuck," she says. "That pussy is so tight," you whisper to her, barely able to insert a third of your nine inches inside her. If your past experiences taught you something, it is that you have to go quite slow with maknaes. Their pussies are always tight and strong and won't cave out to a cock so easily.

"Oh, I love to feel both my holes getting filled," Kyujin says. You love hearing her say it. It tells you it won't be much of a steep climb when she decides to attempt a DP with a real cock, now just her fingers. "Oh yeah, oh fuck," she moans as you start moving, going very nice slow at first in her teen pussy.

"So you're no longer a virgin," you tell her, noticing you didn't need to break her hymen. "No, I lost it as soon as I turned 18," she says. That's a pity. Just like her groupmate Sullyoon, Kyujin had her first meeting with you only a couple months after turning 18, but she is such a slut she couldn't keep her virgin pussy for you to deflower.

Finding that out makes you increase the pace. After all, Kyujin already has some experience taking cocks in her pussy. Maybe not as big as yours, but you know she can learn. "So good," you groan, noticing the tightness of her hole. "OH MY GOD," she lets out the first scream, but truth be told, that massage she's giving her asshole is helping her quite a bit in enduring that huge cock fucking her pussy.

You start panting and groaning louder. Even for an experienced guy like you, her tight young pussy is quite a challenge not to bust a nut. "Is Daddy enjoying my pussy?" she asks you, but you don't answer, trying to stay concentrated and just keep fucking it.

"Fuck that pussy, daddy," Kyujin says in a very cute voice, almost catching you off guard. Her moans sound so good, and you can tell how much she's enjoying it as her walls clench even further around your cock. You duck your head down and wrap your hands around her waist, kissing her and breathing around her neck as she gives you a naughty smile.

"Daddy, you're making me so wet," Kyujin says, as you can feel her young juices coating all over your cock. It's getting harder and harder to resist, but you manage to find just the right rhythm to pound her tight hole. "That pussy is so nice," you tell her.

Kyujin bites her lips as you increase your pace. Oddly, even though you are the experienced guy in the relationship, you're the one already out of breath. Meanwhile, Kyujin, who's only in the 3rd cock of her life, is doing quite well. I think you should have known by now that dancers truly have walls of steel. You should have learned the lesson from the countless sessions where you pounded the likes of Momo, Yeji, and Chaeryeong to oblivion, yet they kept asking for more. Maybe you were just getting old after all.

You slowed the pace, but Kyujin showed no mercy, moving her hips against your crotch. Her unnies really taught her well, because she was already pulling off some veteran moves in her first session with you. For being such a naughty girl, you decide to punish her, pounding Kyujin's pink pussy harder than ever and trying to dig deeper and deeper, searching for her cervix.

But your plan backfires, as you're forced to pull out. "I'll be back soon, baby," you tell her. "I'll be waiting, Daddy," she says. You rush to the shower and relieve the pressure on your cock by painting the walls of it with your cum. This time you avoided the embarrassment you had the last time you fucked a maknae, where Yuna squeezed you so hard you nutted after 3 minutes fucking her pussy. You were this close to repeating it, but this time you saved yourself at the last second.

After watching some festival performances of Kyujin, your cock is back up at full strength. "Come suck that cock," you tell her. "Oh my God, that cock is so wet," she smiles at you, pleased at the work her pussy had done to it, licking your shaft perfectly. For such an inexperienced girl, Kyujin was quite skilled.

You just sat on the chair and let Kyujin showcase her blowjob skills. She gripped your cock firmly, squeezing it with her soft young hands, then licked it a few times from the balls to the tip, giving special attention to your sperm sack, before going up and getting sloppy with the shaft.

"Oh my God," you groaned as Kyujin deepthroated your nine inches with ease. "You're so good," you say to her as she kisses your shaft. "No, you're so good; you've got such a nice cock; I'm in love with it," she tells you.

"I love licking that cock up and down," Kyujin smiles as she plays with your shaft; your tip grows even bigger as your cock is throbbing harder than ever as she kisses that very sensitive spot. After just surving her tight pussy, you have to endure another one of her tight teen holes trying to milk you dry as she bobs her head all over your shaft. That young slut is truly pushing you to the limit.

Kyujin doesn't spare an inch of your cock. Matter of fact, she wants more, diving down to eat your asshole. What are they putting in those 18-year-olds food? How are they already getting so slutty they are licking your old ass in the first encounter? You're really starting to embrace the suspicion that JYP idols are made in a lab and the new iterations of their software are sluttier than the previous ones.

But you can't complain. Her young tongue massaging your asshole truly feels like heaven, especially when she moves up to lick your balls as well. "You like that, Daddy?" she asks. But you can't answer, trying to cope with Kyujin's tongue in your anus and her hands caressing your shaft, pushing your foreskin up and down and making your tip pop up while rubbing against it, giving you a tingling feeling at each time. How did she learn how to edge a cock this fast?

Kyujin's magical tongue works all over your asshole, spitting on it and licking it. "I love putting that tongue in your ass, daddy," she tells you, diving deeper and deeper almost as if she were thursting inside it. Kyujin gets very sloppy, making the bottom of your crotch very wet. "So nasty and sloppy, Daddy," she tells you, slurping all over your balls and playing with your foreskin, pushing it as hard as she can using just her mouth.

Kyujin gives another crazy head-bobbing blowjob to your cock, finishing with a deepthroat and letting out a big smile. "I love your fat cock, daddy," she says, caressing your shaft and jerking it off, before more head-bobbing follows.

"You like how I stroke it with both my hands like this?" Kyujin asks you, and you just let your groans do the talking as she spits on your cock and keeps playing with your foreskin. Sucking, twisting, licking—everything that is possible she does with your shaft. She really wants that cock wet and ready for her tight fuckholes.

You finally interrupt Kyujin's fun, getting on your knees as you pin her body against the couch and kiss her, your cock rubbing against her navel as she keeps jerking it off. You reach under her skirt to play with her pussy, while diving your head to suck her perky young tits. "AHHHHHH, AHHHHHH," her moans grow louder. You kiss her neck and whisper dirty words to your ear. "I'm gonna fill your slutty body full of cum," you tell her.

Kyujin keeps moaning as her juices coat the carpet in your living room. "Oh fuck," she says as she lies her head on the couch and you keep sucking her tits, searching for her tight entrance. You finally put her on top of the couch and spread her legs, diving into her teen cunt.

"Oh yeah, taste that pussy, daddy," Kyujin demands as she closes her eyes and more moans come out of her mouth. "OH MY GOD," she screams as her legs close and you lick her folds like crazy, the hot air blowing from your nostrills and sniffing her core adding to the pleasure she's feeling in her clit. Her nipples get erect and her veins pop out as she slowly starts losing her breath, trying to resist your tongue doing to her pussy what hers just did to your cock.

"AH YEAHHHHHH, AHHHHHHHH," Kyujin's moans groan louder as she grabs your head and presses it further against her clit. "OH FUCK, OH YEAH," Kyujin keeps moaning as her thighs crush your head and press it further against her young pussy.

You can't resist anymore, surprising Kyujin by shoving your cock back in her tight pussy just as you kiss her. More moans come out of her mouth. "OH YEAH, OHHHHHHHHH," she says as you fuck her at a steady pace, kissing her beautiful face and wrapping your hands around her neck.

"Yesss, dadddy, that feels so good," Kyujin moans as she lifts her skirt further up and gives you a sexy smile. You fuck her even harder, massaging her bouncy tits as your thrusts go deeper and deeper. Kyujin's vocabulary now is reduced to just moaning and screaming and telling you how good you fuck her as your cock rests buried deep in her pussy.

"Pump that little tight teen pussy, daddy," Kyujin begs, spreading her legs completely in the couch now, giving you very easy access to her pink hole. You seize the opportunity and take repeated, hard thrusts deep inside it that hit her cervix. "OHHHHHH YESSSSSSS, OHHHHHHHH FUCKKKKKKK," she screams as your balls smack her clit and you make her cum.

To avoid cumming now, you pull out of Kyujin's tight pussy, eating it out and enjoying the juices that are all over her folds, kissing and worshipping it before you surprise her by shoving your middle finger up her asshole, leading to a huge smile from her. "Am I a good girl, Daddy?" she asks you.

"You're such a naughty girl," you finally answer her, sticking your finger up her asshole. "OH FUCK, OH MY GOD," Kyujin screams as you finally show who the real experienced guy is, making her orgasm just with your hands.

You pull your finger out of Kyujin's butthole. "Dirty teen slut," you call her. "Yes, daddy, that's exactly what I am," she says as you pour more lube at her body. "My ass is so tight, Daddy," Kyujin then says.

"Then let's test how tight it is," you reply, lining up your tip against her virgin butthole. You make a hard effort to put it in but can barely push the tip inside, given how tight it is. Kyujin smiles, as she's about to get an unforgettable first anal experience.

"Oh my God, it's so fucking tight," Kyujin says. "My first time couldn't have been better," she continues. Your anaconda slowly disappears inside her anus; make her contort as she isn't adjusted to it. Even her finger-fisting couldn't help her. Your cock is just too large for her virgin orifice.

After reaching the maximum depth of her asshole, you go slow with Kyujin, giving her nice thrusts that only take half of your cock inside it. "Oh yeah," she moans. You play with her pussy, knowing that the first time can be really difficult, trying to ease her up and loosen up her tight teen hole.

Kyujin tries to moan, but you don't let her. "Shhhhhh," you say as you shove three of your fingers in her pussy. But she can't hold that for long. "AHHHHHHH," she explodes in more screams as you also use her pussy as a way to cope with the tightness of her asshole, trying as hard as possible not to fill it with cum.

You thurst your cock at Kyujin's asshole at the same pace you thursts your fingers in her cunt. "OH MY GODDDDDDD," she screams, grabbing her tits. You go faster, Kyujin just attempting to resist your stimulation. She obviously can't. "AHHHHHHHH," she screams again, dropping her head into one of the pillows on the couch.

"Do you like to fuck that tight ass, Daddy?" Kyujin asks as you commit all of your efforts to pound it, taking your fingers off her pussy. You groan and pant as her anal walls smash your big cock. "Finger that pussy for me," you demand of her. "Yes, daddy, OH FUCK," she screams just as she finishes the sentence and places her fingers in her clit.

Kyujin spreads her cheeks as she lets her asshole take the full shape of your cock. "Keep fucking me, just like that," she says, sticking her tongue out. Her ass is so tight you're forced to pull out after so many thursts, allowing yourself some time to breathe before you put it back in and teasing her little gapes of her formely virgin anus.

You take Kyujin by surprise, switching back to her pussy. "Oh yeah, oh yeah, fuck both of my holes," she begs as you pound her already stretched out cunt like crazy before moving back in her ass and doing the same with it. "I love the way you switch back and forth, Daddy; you can't get enough of my tiny teen holes, can you?" she says.

"No, I can't," you say, going back in Kyujin's pink pussy and pounding it hard. "OH MY GOD, OH FUCK, YES, YES, YES," she screams, grabbing her tits to not let them bounce even further. Back in her ass you go, bringing her legs closer and stretching her hole out as Kyujin feels the heat of her guts being rearranged. "FUCK THAT ASS DADDY," she screams hard.

You finally pull out of Kyujin's holes and kiss her forehead. "Good girl," you compliment her. "Are you gonna let me taste my own ass, Daddy?" she asks. "Fuck yeah," you say. "Then please, fuck my face, Daddy," she replies.

You grab Kyujin's head, using her long hair as handlebars while you pound her pretty face. She rolls her eyes and gags all over your thorbbing shaft, as it proves to be too large for her throat when it fucks it at full speed. You enjoy Kyujin choking on your dick like a good whore, getting your cock perfectly wet for your next move.

"Stand up," you tell her, lying on the carpet. You fully push her skirt up and spank Kyujin's shiny ass, making her moan as she shakes it. You pour more lube on it. "Such nice fuckholes," you say, poking your thumb back inside her pussy to warm her up for more action.

"Do you like Daddy's cock back in your ass?" you ask her. "Oh yes," Kyujin says with a soft moan. "Then show me what you learned from your unnies and squat on that cock," you say.

Kyuhin adjusts your shaft as it slides back in her ass. She moves very slowly, trying to adjust to getting impaled by that massive pole. "Oh my God," she moans, still impressed with how big it is. "Keep going, baby, ride this cock like your life depends on it," you give her the incentive.

"There you go," you say as Kyujin increases her speed, her ass hitting your thighs as you start groaning. If the likes of Momo and Chaeryeong usually kill you by how fast they can bounce their big asses on your cock, Kyujin is slightly different, using the tightness of her butthole to her advantage to achieve similar results under a slower ride.

"Oh fuck, does daddy want to cum deep in that ass?" Kyujin slows down as she senses you're losing it. "That's amazing," you whisper. Kyujin just enjoys your cock going in and out of her, resuming her bounce by going faster than ever, trying to go for the kill.

"Ah, ah, ah, ah, ah, ah," you're now the one moaning as Kyujin quickly learns how to ride a big cock. "You like watching that tight ass going up and down that cock, daddy?" Kyujin asks as she pushes you to the edge. "So good, so good," you whisper, holding your breath not to cum.

"Bend over, you teen slut," you tell Kyujin, regaining control of the situation and shoving your cock back in her ass. This time you didn't hold back. Now you knew Kyujin could take it like a champion in the ass; it didn't matter if it was just her first time.

Kyujin struggled as your cock hit her fast and deep, fingering her pussy and resting her head on the couch to resist your increasingly harder thrusts in her asshole. "Keep fucking my ass, daddy, AHHHHHH," she moaned. These words only made you go faster, grabbing her waist and getting your cock deeper and deeper in her ass.

"YES, YES, YES, YES," Kyujin rapdly screamed. You groped her tits and pounded her like an animal. "Face down ass up," you ordered to her, stretching her butthole to the fullest and pumping it nonstop. "You stretch my ass so fucking good, Daddy," she says.

"Turn around and suck my cock again," you tell Kyujin as you pop out of her asshole and lie on the floor. She eagerly takes your cock in her mouth, tasting her ass to the fullest and enjoying spitting on your tip. You kiss her, ready to test her in one final challenge as she keeps her hands jerking your cock off.

"Sit on my cock, slut," you tell her, wrapping your arms around her waist as you lie on the couch, pulling Kyujin's body on top of yours. If there is one sex position every dancer needs to master, it's the one you're about to teach her: the full nelson.

Kyujin mounts on your cock, but she doesn't even have time to react; you just spread her legs as hard as you can up in the air and take control of thrusting in her asshole from the start, turning her into an anal fleshlight. Kyujin is now just a passenger of your ride to pleasure as you destroy her once virgin ass to the fullest.

"OH MY GODDDDDDDD," Kyujin screams as your balls pound hard against her cheeks. She fingers herself, trying to deal with such a barage of thursts. You're only a couple years from turning 50, but this is your best form yet. "OH YEAH, AHHHHH," she keeps screaming as you show no signs of slowing down.

"I love that big fat white cock in my tiny little Asian asshole; you fuck me so deep and hard, Daddy," Kyujin says. "Fuck me like a whore; keep fucking me; make me a dirty little teen whore," she continues.

Her words drive you mad. At first, you wanted to leave your mark in her formerly virgin asshole, but seeing her say those dirty words changed your plans as you switched your cock back into her cunt. "Oh, put it back in my pussy; I want you to fill me up real good, Daddy," Kyujin says as she watches you move your shaft inside her babyhole.

"Fill that tight little Asian pussy with your big white cock cum, fucking give to me, empty your balls for, YES, PLEASE, CUM INSIDE ME, DADDY," Kyujin begs. You pump her pussy hard until your cock can't resist anymore, pulsating multiple times inside her teen pussy. "You filled up that tight little pussy so good, Daddy," Kyujin says with a big smile in her face as your cum oozes out of her vagina, Kyujin quickly scooping it up to taste it.

"Now I'm a real, real, naughty girl, full of daddy's cum," Kyujin says. "It's so sticky," she says, putting her tongue out and showing off your semen in her mouth.

Kyujin kisses your big white cock for one last time, licking the remnants of cum that stood in there and putting her schoolgirl outfit back on. "That was so good, Daddy; I can't wait for the next time. I'll tell my unnies to come join me, and we're gonna compete to see who can milk this big fat white cock the hardest," she says, going back to her dorms to share the experience with her groupmates.

Haewon is the first to ask her about it once she is back at the dorm.

"So how was it?" she says.

"You weren't lying, unnie; he's amazing, no wonder all the girls at the company are so whipped for his cock," Kyujin says.

"We want to be there next time; he fucked our asses so good," Sullyoon and Bae come off and say it to her.

"You're all welcome; I promised him next time it's going to be all of us," Kyujin says.

"Game on, let's see who's gonna make his cock cum the hardest," Lily and Jiwoo say. "Absolutely," Kyujin finishes, already thinking about the next round.

#kyujin smut #nmixx smut #female idol smut #girl group smut #kpop smut #male reader smut

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hoshigray · 11 months ago

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𝐇𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐋𝐢𝐤𝐞, 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐇𝐨𝐥𝐝 | satoru gojō

𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: Is it possible to wish to be in the embrace of someone who makes you want to throw them off a cliff? You seem to think so, and the same goes for Gojo. But alas, good things always come to an end, even when not meant to be...

𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: Gojo x fem/afab! reader - explicit content; minors DNI - modern + college AU - frenemies to lovers + mutual pining - Gojo and reader are at least age 20 - implied fwb relationship - catching/awakening feelings - oral (m! receiving) - ball massaging + sucking - sex in a shared room; college dorms (alone) - cowgirl position on a chair - breast fondling + sucking + nipple play - protected sex (psa: wrap it up, or get tf up) - pet names (baby, cutie, pretty, princess) - heavy depiction of a blowjob - cameos: Haibara and Ijichi - fluff + angst; misunderstandings - humor bc i'm [not] funny.

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 7.6k

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞: second part, let's goooo!! i loved ur support and comments from the first story, so hope y'all are excited for this part :DDD and ty so so so MUCH for 5.5k like??? i kiss you on cheek, every single on of you, hehehe~

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“If you’re not gonna help, then leave my dorm!”

“Ehhhh, hell no! It’s cold as fuck outside; you want me to freeze to death?”

“They’re…still going at it.”

“Yeah…give it a minute, and we’ll just go to the library without them?”

It’s coming down to the last week of January; university students are finally settling in with their new schedules and getting used to the groove of the spring semester. Or some run around trying to keep up with the new semesters and the change of weather already getting on people’s nerves, wanting nothing more than spring to come quickly.

Three weeks in, and you already have stuff to do, one of them being an argumentative presentation assigned by Professor Yaga in your Contemporary Issues class. You and three other people are tasked to find sources for a topic issue you find interesting and then present a discussion-based presentation on two sides of the topic (two people in favor and two people against).

Unfortunately, the groups were to be randomly assigned. Luckily, two friends you knew in the class, Haibara and Ijichi, were picked to work alongside you! However, the bad part was that another person you knew was assigned to work with you, and he happens to be the guy getting on your last nerves right now, sitting on your couch while clicking through the television channels with the remote.

Your roommates weren’t home today. The club fair was occurring at the quad, so Mei Mei and Utahime had to go out and represent their clubs for the afternoon. Shoko is having an intense study session with Geto for an exam on the first of February, so they’re at the library now.

That leaves you alone at your dorm, using this as a perfect opportunity to invite your group over to work on the project.

“You can freeze your nuts off and become the next Jack Frost for all I care; if you’re not going to do your part of the work, get out!”

Well, minus you yelling at your partner, who clicks his teeth before turning to you. His round sunglasses shone from the light reflected from the living room windows.

Satoru Gojo was your number one nemesis within these campus grounds; this was a known fact to everyone, especially the other group members who nervously examined you two bicker. Being in the same space as him is enough to make you wish you could pull your hair out or put him in the nastiest headlock you could do. Worse, being assigned to the same group as him for your project almost made you want to rip your ears off.

But you had to suck it up; at least you were the first group to start a presentation. Better now than worry about it later, right?

“Pssh, fine, I’ll get up and—Oh! Wait, you guys have Digimon on Hulu? Ahhh, sick!”

Nevertheless, you can’t say that when your supposed partner acts like a child glued to your TV screen instead of doing the work he promised to do. You grit your teeth with a twitching brow, “Why you…”

Across from the common area was the kitchen, where Haibara and Ijichi sat at the dining table. The two sophomores could do nothing but feel the tension between you and Gojo grow with every passing second, suffocating the younger duo. Haibara eyes Ijichi from across the table and whispers, “Wanna make a run for it now?”

The black-haired second-year didn’t reply, only a hurried nod before the two grabbed their coats and stuffed their laptops back into their backpacks. The sound of their zippers alerts your ears, turning to them to question, “Huh? Where are you two going?”

Haibara takes it upon himself to deliver a half-lie as he zips up his jacket. “On second thought, Ijichi and I are thinking of taking the shuttle to the library to work instead.”

Huh? The library? Were they leaving because of the belligerence between you and Gojo? God, you hoped not. “Wait, you guys don’t have to do that. I already made you guys walk all this way here; it’d be rough to have you leave for somewhere else…”

Ijichi comes with the assist after putting the sling of his messenger bag around his shoulder. “It’s okay, Y/n. We found material from the library we could use as sources, so we’re heading up there to take some notes while they’re there.”

“Yup!” Haibara exclaims in agreement, and the two walk past you to put on their shoes by the front door. “Maybe you guys can find sources of your own while we’re gone, and then we can converse and share what we found when we come back. Sounds good?”

“I suppose so…” you couldn’t shake the feeling that they were leaving to avoid being in the same room as you and Gojo. The guilt is hard to endure since you didn’t mean to make the younger boys uncomfortable. “See you guys, then.”

“Cya!” And with that, the door closes on their way out, leaving you and Gojo alone in your apartment.

Well, this is just great; you’ve driven your group members and friends away and are now stuck with the nuisance of a partner who still keeps his attention on the television. It takes everything in your power not to pop a vein. But with one calm breath, you steady yourself and stand tall.

You walk in front of the TV, blocking it from Gojo’s view. The white-haired boy throws his hands up in exasperation, but you couldn’t care less. “What’s the big idea?” He questions you as if he has a right to at this moment.

You cross your arms across your chest with narrow eyes. “Haibara and Ijichi just left.”

“Uhh, yeah, I heard the door,” he maneuvers his body to try and see the children’s show blocked by your figure. “Doesn’t have to do with me—“

“It does have to do with you.” You interrupt him, taking two steps and bending to stare him down. Your face is a foot away from his. “You’re supposed to be here to work with Haibara on the ’no’ part of the argument while me and Ijichi do our part. You’ve only been here for thirty minutes, and the only thing you’ve done successfully is take off your shoes at the door and read your manga books on the couch.

Gojo chuckles – oh, how you hated his laugh – as he puts his hands behind his head, spreading his long legs from their crossed form. “You heard them, no? They’re going to research on their own and then come back. Besides, you know I’m not one to start stuff right away. I’m a procrastinator, remember?”

“You’re annoying; that’s what you are.” You straighten up with a heavy sigh. God, I wish Utahime and Shoko were here. They’d help me out with this white garbage…

“Ahhh, lighten up, Y/n. It’s not like the presentation is on Monday; we got until Friday to come up with everything.”

“Yeah, I’m aware of that, smartass. And you’re right: I do know you. And I know you tend to do things at the last fucking minute. But not this time!” You watch him try to put his feet up on the coffee table, and you quickly intervene by kicking them off.

“Tch. Look, you knew what you were getting into being partnered with me. And relax; those two said they’ll be back to discuss the material later. They already left – nothing I can do about it.”

Your hands rest at your hips, tapping your foot with visible frustration. “Oh? And I wonder why they left in the first place, Gojo. Mind telling me how?”

He quirks up a brow with a smug grin — a telling sign that you’d get ticked off with whatever he’s about to say. “I don’t know, Y/n. Why not ask the nagging control freak talking to me right now, huh? Maybe their short height and angry temper are affecting the mood of those around them to be miserable like them.”

You almost did it — your hands nearly gave into your intrusive thoughts and were about to lunge at the snow-haired guy’s neck to wring around like a rag doll. But you played it off with a clap, rubbing the palms together to distract your temporary violent thoughts.

You sucked your teeth and turned on your heel. “Forget it. I’m gonna go take a nap.”

He scoffs, “Good, maybe your tiny brain needs it to calm down.”

“Choke and die, Gojo!” You say down the hall, already at the door of your shared bedroom. Before slamming the door shut, Gojo’s patronizing laughter can be heard to your dismay. With gritted teeth, you march to your bed to throw yourself on the mattress.

“Ughhh. That Satoru Gojo,” you curse his name under your breath as if he’d hear you through the walls. “So unserious…”

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

To be quite honest with himself, Gojo doesn’t necessarily hate you.

The white-haired boy lies on his side on Utahime’s bed, watching you nap. He did knock on the door – believe him, he did. He even gave you the good old ten-second rule, waiting for your response. But then you didn’t, which gave him the initiative to waltz in and see you in your slumber.

You slept so peacefully; your face at peace, and your faint snores were the only things his ears picked up on. It was as if your little nagging show from earlier was hard to comprehend when seeing your tranquil state in front of him. It used to be rare to see you like this. Keywords: used to be.

For the past two to three weeks, your relationship with Gojo has become more…intimate. Ever since he took your first kiss and drew your virgin curtains, the two of you have gotten a little closer than before — both platonically and physically. Something that Gojo never thought he’d experience with you, his tiny, cute frenemy.

Gojo has known you since freshman year; you were two in the same enrichment group to prepare you to transition into college life. Personally, he wasn’t much for the program; he found it a waste of time, a mandatory prerequisite that he felt he didn’t need. He’s all about experience, wanting nothing more than to get on with his day, go to classes, hang with friends, and repeat.

“Hello, my name is Y/n. It’s nice to meet you all!”

And then came you, the person sitting across from him at the round table your group would always meet at. He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t enamored by you the second he saw you. Gojo rarely finds someone who could easily pull his eyes to them — not saying the girls who’d usually crowd and admire him weren’t pretty. There was something about you that kept him wanting to know more – to engage more – about you.

One thing he knew from you was that you carried your character with pride. Your achievements, your personality, your kindness, and your mannerisms — all of which were displayed elegantly and were a breath of fresh air to look at. You stood out to him more than all the other kids in the group, his eyes always finding a way to steer from the professor’s advice to your alluring, listening face.

Another thing Gojo liked about you was that you weren’t afraid to stand your ground, especially when discussing with your peers or him. Sure, you were always respectful and would respect other people’s arguments. But, God, the way you said things so constructed and nuanced, it had the tall other glued to you whenever you spoke.

He’s not going to lie; he’ll admit that he’d try to tick you off and get you to get a little angry with him when it came to arguing. He couldn’t help it. He just liked the thought of you layering out of your poised appearance to the point you’d glare at him whenever you saw him in the halls. And it had him giddy knowing he’s the one that made you angry because you looked cute.

And that was the other thing he really liked about you. The more you two interacted, argued, hung out with his friends, or attended classes together, the more Gojo’s fascination for you turned into that of a school-boy crush. He wouldn’t admit to anyone of this (minus Geto and Shoko if his life depended on it) because it certainly wasn’t something to be known. He was okay with what you two had right now, being the friend who loves to push your buttons to see you nag at him.

That was until you two started sleeping together. Because holy fuck, the past weeks you two have been sneaking time to have each other’s bodies close made Gojo’s mind go crazy. So fucking crazy like the feeling of you on him is borderline addicting. Your whiny cries calling out to him when he scrapes your sweet spots, your nails scrape on his chest, your half-lidded eyes when you look at him, or how you whisper his name only for him to hear.

This was the kind of relationship you two brewed, a secret thing only between you two. And Gojo was satisfied keeping it like this because it was what you wanted. No need to flaunt it around; it was no one’s business. Besides, he likes having you to himself, seeing a side of you that only he could imagine and experience.

The sensations of your body under his touch, the various tunes of your voice, and the beauty exhibited in your gaze. It was all addicting. You were addicting.

“Who told you to lie on my roommate’s bed? You know she’ll kill you if she ever saw you.”

It was so addicting that he didn’t even notice you awake until you spoke to him, the erotic memories of you clouding his brain dissipating at the indication of your voice. He smirks, “Oh, I’ll be fine; not like she can hurt me with her tiny self.”

You’re too groggy to roll your eyes, sighing as you turn to your side to face him from across the room. “How long was I out for?”

“Almost an hour,” he replies, switching to sit criss-cross on Utahime’s bed. “I got bored watching TV and knocked.”

“How long have you been in here?”

“Maybe twenty minutes?”

“Just watching me sleep?”

“Yeah.”

You let out a scoff, shaking your head. “Weirdo.”

He snickers at you for recognizing his silliness. “Whaaat? There’s not much to do aside from looking at you. I got bored of the TV.”

“What about your manga?”

“Got bored of that, too.”

“Anyone on your socials that you’d wanna talk to? Girls? Friends? Your teammates?”

“Mmm, nah, none I’d wanna talk to right now.”

Your brows furrowed. “What do you mean?”

“Hmm?”

“What do you mean ‘right now’? You make it seem like I’m keeping you from interacting with your outside life. If you’re bored, talk with whoever you want. Maybe bother Geto…No, nevermind, he’d probably be annoyed since he’s studying.”

Gojo examines you, silently removing himself from your roommate’s bed and treading towards yours. He takes off his sunglasses and places them on top of your dresser before sitting on his knees on the floor. He rests his hands and chin on the edge of your bed, his sky-blue eyes locked in with yours. God, you were so beautiful to look at.

“I meant that I don’t want to talk to anybody.” Now that he’s closer to you, his voice dials to a whisper. “Not when I got you here to myself.”

He notices your brows drawing upward at the sentence. “To yourself?”

“Mhmm,” he hums, bringing a forefinger to trace your brow. A sensual touch not to startle you. “Just you and me.”

You give him a look as if you think he’s trying to pull something. “Don’t tell me you were making me mad at you earlier just so Haibara and Ijichi could leave, and I’d be stuck with you.”

His smile broadens with every word, his dimples out to see. “No, although I hate that I didn’t think of that myself.” His hand goes to your cheek for his thumb to stroke gently. “Would it have been a bad thing if I did?”

You don’t reply, only placing your hand on his. Your eyes are still on his blue orbs, and – you don’t know this because Gojo has the perfect view of you – the light from the window made them shine charmingly as it highlighted your face.

“No…I don’t think so,” you murmur, gaze gradually venturing down to his lips. “I like being around you…Satoru.”

He heard his name leave your lips, an invitation to what he wants to do, his eyes fixated on your lips before closing them and drawing in closer. “Me too…”

The kiss was soft and gentle like he always starts with, waiting for you to give him the okay to kiss you again. And when you meekly lick his bottom lip, he gives in to your request and claims your lips again.

Your moans were so sweet to his ears — his favorite thing to hear — especially when he becomes a little devilish and sucks on your tongue to make you whimper a little louder, turning him on even more. It serves as the perfect distraction for him to snake a hand into your shirt, his hand already making itself home and cupping your breast in your bra.

You break the kiss with a gasp, and massages to your mound make your breath shaky. “Mmmah…you sneaky pervert,” you name-call him sweetly.

“Can’t blame me; I just know that you like to have your tits played with.” Gojo sneers, tweaking your nipple to hear you gasp again. “Hey, remember you said you’d suck me off next time?”

“Huh?” The question threw you off before you could fall deeper into a euphoric haze.

“Don’t ‘huh’ me, you promised!” He whines to you like a hurt puppy. “After I ate you out for twenty minutes straight last time, can I just have your mouth on my dick once?”

“I never told you to eat me out for twenty minutes!”

“You crying and telling me not to stop said otherwise!” He stands his argument, even if you warn him with a glare. “Just suck it, please. I haven’t felt your mouth in a while.”

Oh, for fuck’s sake. You didn’t expect to deal with his childish tendencies, but it is Gojo we’re talking about. You sigh, “…Fine, Satoru.” And then the white-headed boy beamed at the confirmation, immediately standing up and heading to your desk. It was an abrupt change of pace for a second until he brought your desk chair out.

With glee, Gojo flings his jeans and boxers with ease, his half-hard cock out for you to see. He sits on your chair with spread legs, “I’m ready~.”

You roll your eyes, yet the smile on your face sneaks without you knowing while leaving your bed and crouching between his legs. “You’re such a big baby sometimes…”

Your hand finds its way to the body of his dick, gliding it up and down to feel the veins under your palm and fingertips. Gojo hums to your cold fingers, hitching his breath when you tease him with a blow of air.

Your free hand comes to his balls, massaging his testicles in a way that has his leg jerk. He tries to fight it, but the squirm on his legs says otherwise. “Hahhh, fuck…quit it…”

“Hmm? What, you don’t like it when I tease you?” You peer up at him with a smug grin before using your tongue to lick on the glans slowly, and he covers his mouth before a gasp comes out after lapping on his frenulum. “But when you do it to me, it’s not a problem, huh?”

“Mmmph, shiit, Y/n—Ohhh…!” Another jolt of the hips after you lick and kiss one of his balls, teasing the skin with a kiss and tiny chews that would have him choke on his breath. “Jesus, fuck! Y/n, baby, you’re driving me crazy….Aishhh!!

“Oh, really?” God, you were such a fucking tease. But he fucking loved that so much. “What should I do?” You ask him before sucking on his balls again, and a hand comes to your shoulder to grip.

“Mmmm…Blow me off, princess,” shivers crawl up his spine as you place kisses from the base of his cock towards the tip. “Please, I wanna feel you…”

You giggle at his reply, finally taking in his cockhead to your pretty lips and sighing through your nose as you hollow your cheeks to take in more of him.

Gojo sighs at your licks and sucks on his girth, his erection becoming accommodated to your oral cavity wonderfully. You unhurriedly prompt yourself to take in more of him until your lips reach his pubes, your throat now full of him, and the warmness of your gummy walls makes him squirm more.

Bobbing your head at a moderate pace, you suck him off to that of a pleasurable cadence. You still use your hands to stroke him, Gojo melting to your touch even more. He throws his head back when you attack his tip again with the onslaught of licks and laps, the hand on his balls roughly kneading them jerks him to moan aloud.

Fuck, it feels so fucking good having you suck him off like this. How your tongue moved up and down on him was so dangerous, prompting him to place a hand on your head for support. As if that would help, you don’t show him mercy when you suck him harder and faster. The noises coming from your mouth sounded so erotic and pornographic, the heat on his face brewing out more.

“—Khhmm, fuck, man, I can’t…Ahhh! Y/n, I’m gonna cum if you keep licking it like that. Stop, st—Ahhaaa!!”

But like he said before – you’re a tease (if not worse than him). You remove Gojo’s dick from your mouth and throat at once, the groan he exerts fueling the fire in your body. You stand to withdraw your shirt, bra, and panties to the ground, knowing Gojo’s watching every move. “Don’t get mad at me; I know how much you wanna cum inside.”

You pull out the condom from the pocket of your skirt, placing the rubber on his cock after removing it from the wrapper. He couldn’t help but laugh, “Seems like you’re more of a pervert than me if you had that ready while those two were here earlier.”

“Shut up,” you playfully kiss him with a sneaky bite to his bottom lip. Then, you mount and align your cunt on his dick, the glans kissing your wet labia. “Hmmm, fuck…”

“Relax, cutie,” he kisses you on the cheek while his hands fondle your breasts.

You slowly descend your slit onto him, the tip of his cock pushing into the entrance of your vagina. A couple of exhales and inhales keep you steady when inserting him into you, not letting the pain distract you from the task at hand. And the both of you moan in unison when it makes it in, your hips leisurely coming down on him until your ass rests on his thighs.

You grind on him with the roll of your hips, evoking choked intakes of air from him as a hand goes to your ass with vigor. His face to your chest while the other hand plays with one mound. His lips found a nipple to pop into his mouth to suck on.

With a slow pace, you rock your hips onto him. Your legs bent for your feet to be on his knees, the chair solid enough to withstand you bouncing on Gojo’s dick with repetition.

“Hoohhh, ohhhh, mmmm,” your hums are expressed in tunes. The curve of his cock is so fucking good, scraping your insides with precision. You couldn’t help but increase the speed just a little bit.

Gojo keeps sucking on your nipple; the grazes of his teeth and pushing the bud up to the roof of his mouth only fuels more quivers to travel down your bouncing figure. Both of his hands now under your skirt to feel the flesh of your ass under his hungry grasp. He kneads your asscheeks with every thrust to your chasm, and your shrieks get louder by the second.

“—Mmmph! Shit, shit, you feel so good, pretty,” he finally lets go of your hardened nipple, burying his face to your chest. “So fucking good for me…fuhuuuucck!

You could feel your cunt contract around him; every graze to your sensitive spots prompted your walls to grip around him. He hisses, looking up to see your expression as you ride him out. Fuck, you looked so good on top of him like this. He’ll add this position to the list of things to do again with you.

You peer down to see that Gojo is staring at you, and you quickly bring a hand to cover his eyes. “—Ahhahhn, d-don’t look at me like that! Yer soo embarrassing…!”

He only chuckles at your shy demeanor, especially during this. But he humors you, not fighting your makeshift blind for him to see you wholly. He’s seen it all already — felt it all, too. And he could never get enough.

“Ooooh, Satoruuu—Nnaaahh!” He loves how you say his name, your hand traveling to his hair to grab in tuffs. “Oh, fuck, ‘toruuu, I’m gonna cummm…!”

“—Hnngh! Yeah, baby?” Oh, he knows. The way you’re grinding to and fro on his pelvis tells him so. “Go ahead, princess. Clench on me and ride it out.”

And with that, your hips go to an erratic pace that has the both of you holding for dear life. The squeeze of your inner walls clenching on him almost makes him choke on his spit, the nails of his fingertips forming crescents on your skin. And you scream at it, slamming your ass onto him as you both climb up to orgasm.

Within seconds, it hits the both of you like a train. This had to be Gojo’s favorite part of the entire thing, experiencing having your folds clamp and flutter around him as you cry for him. It took everything in his power not to come with you because he wants to have you on him a little longer. You just felt too good to let go — too addicted to your body to be done with one round.

When the contractions subside while your slurred howls get quieter, Gojo gives you a few minutes to let your body be free from the aftershocks. He knows your body is extra sensitive now, rubbing circles on your back and placing chaste kisses on your clavicle. You hum under his lips, letting the wave of your crescendo exude out from you quietly.

However, since you wanted to be such a tease, why not be a tease back? At least, that’s what Gojo thought before he threw your cunt another snap of the hips, his cock jabbing into your delicate walls that haven’t recovered yet. A sharp cry comes from your puffy lips, the hand covering Gojo’s eyes finally freeing him to see you.

He grins with hooded azure eyes, “Sorry, cutie, but I didn’t get to finish. Wouldn’t be fair if I didn’t get to have fun of my own, right?”

You chew on your lip with trenched brows before bringing your face to his. “Don’t you get carried away like last time, Satoru.”

“No promises, princess~” he sings to your ear before humming into your lips.

As mentioned before, Gojo doesn’t hate you — he just hates that he can’t fully express liking you.

But having you on top of him like this, in his embrace, is a nice change of pace he’ll happily get used to.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

“Okay, everyone, class dismissed! Thank you for your time, and see you all on Friday.”

Professor Naga closes up the last class for today, and the students all get up from the seats of their elevated rows to pack up and leave. The clock is ten minutes before seven o’clock, the winter darkness already claiming the sky with a sheet of night. Students are either famished and heading to the dining hall for food, going straight to their dorms or homes, or staying behind for last-minute conversations.

Gojo was one of the latter, deciding to stay behind to chat with the group for a bit. After packing his backpack and putting on his coat, he slings from the table to jump to the row below him, where you were talking with Haibara and Ijichi.

You watch his stunt, ready to lecture, “Jesus, Gojo, what’s all that for? You could’ve just walked around.”

“Ehhhh, why would I do that? That’s so lame.” He comes and bends close to you enough to slang his arm around your shoulders.

But you click your teeth and try to maneuver away from his tall figure. “You’re lame,” you mutter under your breath.

However, Gojo’s ears perked with furrowed brows. “What did you say?”

“You heard me, you lame white furby!” You repeat yourself with a huff and the snow-haired student gawks at your brazenness.

The two of you argue again; students passing by silently exit the class, others stand and watch, and Professor Yaga can only sigh at yet another altercation between you two.

However, it quickly dissipates when Haibara laughs from his seat. “You two, there’s never a dull moment.”

You and Gojo blink at the dark brunette before removing Gojo’s hand from your shoulders. “Hmph, it’s not like it’s my fault; he’s the one who starts it.”

“Oh, what could I possibly do to make Y/n so upset with me this time?” He pushes up his sunglasses, snickering at the scowl you send him.

Ichiji, being the passive second-year he is, meekly changes the topic from the row below you three. “On some brighter news, at least we did well on the presentation.”

“That’s right!” Haibara happily agrees with the statement, leaning against the chair with his hands behind his head. “Professor Yaga seemed really pleased with our arguments; I don’t think he intervened even once. Plus, he said many good things about how we handled the topic. Nice one, team!”

The raven-haired one hums at the other’s exclamation. “I think most of it goes to how Y/n and Gojo bounced off each other’s arguments. How you two pulled up examples from the articles yet remained dignified with your viewpoints was cool to witness. I even saw some students be engaged with the conversation, many amazed with how Y/n refuted Gojo’s arguments elegantly and respectfully.”

But most of all, what the two sophomores wanted to mention was that there was no yelling. To them, the professor, and all the students of this class, you and Gojo presented your presentation without a single tone of malice, no pointless teasing, no name-calling, nothing! It was a civil conversation between two opposing sides. To everyone’s surprise — and thankful stars — today was a success.

You chuckle nervously at the praise. “Oh, come on, you two, don’t let me and Gojo take all the credit. You guys did your part. Especially you, Ichiji; you were an exceptional help for my side and finding sources I could build off from.”

Gojo, on the other hand, rolls his eyes. “Psssh, don’t butter them up like that; without us, they would’ve failed this presentation big time. No offense.” He was forced to say that when you called him by his last name and hit him with your elbow.

None taken, the two younger friends say to themselves unbeknownst to each other.

The tall one continues, “Besides, you were the one who did most of the work. I slacked off until the last minute when you whipped me into shape.” Gojo brings his hand on top of your head for a pat. The action surprised you enough to flinch a bit. “Nice work like always, Y/n.”

Were the stars aligned differently, or did Gojo just compliment you? It certainly took you aback, especially the two others who silently kept their observation to themselves.

You could only look at his complacent look for a few seconds before you realized the warmth of your cheeks became stronger. Averting your eyes, you remove his hand from your head. “Thanks, Gojo…” you express gratitude. “You weren’t so bad yourself.”

A cheeky smile, his dimples prominent to blind you. “Awww, would you two look at that? They’re complimenting me, too~” Another bump to the chest has him cackling like a child, and you shake your head with rolled eyes.

The two younger students observe the scene before Haibara forcibly stretches and yawns to catch the two’s attention. “Man, I’m so hungry; I skipped lunch to prepare for this presentation. Me and Ijichi are gonna meet up with Nanami at the dining hall. You guys wanna come?”

You instantly beam at the proposal; who are you to refuse a dinner with your friends? “Sure! I’d love to…Oh! Wait, let me use the restroom and fill my water bottle.”

You rummage through your backpack for your water bottle before exiting the classroom. The boys watch you descend from row after row, and Gojo says, “Don’t take too long; I’ll convince them to leave without you.”

“Hmph, go ahead and try! They invited me; I don’t know who told you to invite yourself.” You stick your tongue out at him before opening and closing the door behind you.

Gojo watches you with a smile still plastered on his face for a few seconds before Ijichi makes a tiny cough to catch his attention, the sunglasses-wearing junior turning to look back down to the other two. He notes the albeit cheesy-smiling faces they harbor, and he lifts a brow. “The hell are you two smiling for?”

The raven-haired sophomore squeaks at the sudden firm tone, “N–Nothing!”

“Pfft, oh come on, Kiyo; let’s not act like we didn’t see what we just saw.”

Gojo catches the nuance of Haibara’s comment. “Saw what?”

“You’re over here talking about our faces, but you’re the one who’s smiling at Y/n as they leave the door?” The brunette sophomore sends a wink to his junior, whose face doesn’t change at the comment.

“And your point is?”

“Well, it seems — to me, at least — there might be something going on with you and Y/n?”

Gojo was prepared for that, opening his mouth to interject quickly. However, the dark-haired other beat him to the punch. “Now that you mention it, Gojo and Y/n have been kind of…stable? There's still the usual arguments, but those haven't happened as much since last week…”

“Right!?” Haibara points at Ijichi with exclamation, making the other second-year flinch. “For some reason, things seem to be a little quieter with the two of them now, not to mention them hanging out way more often. Everyone’s been talking about it; even Geto and Shoko asked if Gojo had done anything that made Y/n passive?”

“I asked Nanami about it on Monday; he thinks maybe Y/n finally knocked some sense into Gojo’s childish brain to have him be so civil to engage without yelling their head off.”

“Pffthaha, I wouldn’t go that far. Y/n did just kick him in the shin yesterday for scaring them from behind.”

“Ahh, yes, well, that was deserved.”

“You two realize I’m still standing right the fuck here, right?” No, they hadn’t because the two discerned the twitch of Gojo’s brow after conversing about the tall, white-haired boy.

“But it’s true!”

Another voice enters the set, making Gojo raise his head, and the other two turn to their left. It was some girl and her friend. Gojo knew of her; she sat next to him during class. Again, he knew of her, meaning she had no significance to his knowledge.

And yet, she speaks to the three boys. “You and Y/n have gotten a lot more close these past weeks compared to previous semesters—“

“Real close, too!” Their friend adds on from behind. “It’s as if you two are like a couple.”

“So…Are you two….a thing?”

Gojo could tell from a mile away what this was. Obviously, the first girl has a thing for him — he can see the anxiousness from the twiddle of her thumbs and avoidant eye contact. Although he wasn’t interested, he couldn’t even answer the question the way he wanted. What the hell could he say: that you two are in a secret relationship? He knows you’d have his grave ready before he could finish that confession.

And he can’t say the two of you are in any relationship either; it’s not what you would’ve told them. To everyone else, you and Gojo are friends who would preferably be caught dead rather than lying in bed together. So, might as well keep that facade up.

“Not that it’s any of your business,” he starts with the push of his sunglasses. “Y/n is a pretty good friend, and I’d like to keep it at that.”

Haibara and Ijichi turn from Gojo to look at each other and shrug. Before turning back, something caught their eye that caused the two sophomores’ skin to turn white.

Ijichi tries to prevent Gojo from speaking further. “G-Gojo—“

However, the tall one doesn’t listen. “I mean, sure, they got a nice personality and are independent…Kinda pretty, too, not gonna lie. But they’re not really my type. I mean, have you seen them? Just a little person who likes to find trivial stuff to yell at me over. Angry at the world around them, I’d say.“

“Go. Jo.” Haibara says the junior’s name through gritted teeth, bringing his hand up by his neck and drawing an imaginary horizontal line back and forth — a gesture for Gojo to not say anymore. But unfortunately, the sign wasn’t seen, and the words kept pouring out.

“And to be honest, can you imagine? Me and Y/n, a couple? Jesus Christ, that would be fucking exhausting to deal with, especially with someone so boring and too uncute like them. I’ve seen prettier, been with better. I feel sorry for the poor bastard who does end up with them—“

“SATORU GOJO!”

Now — that sudden burst of yell from a loud, masculine voice — that was what got Gojo’s attention. It’s what got the attention of everyone else in the room. The snow-haired student jerks to look at the professor standing at the front, the older man with a deep frown. “What?

The professor doesn’t answer him. Instead, he points to the left of him with his chin with a huff. With common sense, Gojo turns behind him to see where the older man points. And at that moment, he felt his very being drop to the soles of his feet. Haibara and Ijichi took a slow breath in unison at the immediate tension.

Behind him stood you, a lone figure holding their water bottle within three arm’s length away from the group. But that was sufficient enough for you to have heard everything said.

Breathing suddenly felt impossible for Gojo; his entire body was stiff under your gaze. His shades could hide his eyes, but he wasn’t sure it could shield the instant shame that slapped him across the face from you.

And that was another thing: the look you harbored was indecipherable — the true definition of disengagement. There were no widened eyes, quivering lips, or shaky hands. You stood plainly and looked as though you were detached from the entire situation. And that was what scared him the most.

This was strike one.

He dared not move when you began walking up, and your eyes then shifted to ignore his presence. “Hey, Yu,” the brunette straightened his posture at the use of the first name. “I think I’ll have to decline on that dinner offer. I’m a little tired and have a paper I need to work on…Maybe next time?”

“Uhh, yeah, sure, no problem.” He answers with a sweat.

Wait a second. Gojo tries to call for you, “Y/n—“

“Ijichi,” but you immediately shut him down and directed your attention to the other sophomore friend as you put on your coat and stuffed your water bottle back into your bag. “Be sure to submit the presentation template and sources to the course site before the end of the day, please.”

“U–Uhh, already done, Y/n.” He squeaks while reassuring.

Wait, please. The tall one tries again, “Wait, Y/n—“

“Good.” You sling your backpack on, refusing to look at the person trying to talk to you. “Well, I’ll be seeing you, then.” And with that, you turn on your heel and head down the row to leave.

No, wait, stop— “Y/n, wait!” This was strike two.

Gojo doesn’t hesitate to call out to you. At that moment, he follows you to the class steps where you were a row down left from the door. He grabs your hand without thinking, the size of your palm captured by his slender fingers. He knew it was a risky move, but he had to — he had to get you to talk with him right now, if not ever. Because the latter is something he isn’t ready for, something he didn’t think would be a possibility.

And yet, he will learn this lesson of being prepared for the impossible when you rapidly turn to him. Strike three.

SLAP!

Have you ever seen someone get smacked in the face so hard that their sunglasses come off? The remaining two girls who witnessed it know for sure now. Haibara and Ijichi won’t admit to it as they immediately turn to the other side of the room when they saw your hand move. But please believe they winced at the sound of the impact. The same goes for Professor Yaga, who was too stunned to speak, yet it was a valid outcome.

Gojo didn’t move a single limb, allowing the stinging feeling on his cheek to course through his facial muscles. His eyes were glued to the carpeted ground; he knew that’s where they were supposed to be. And you snatched your hand away from his grasp, leaving his fingers to suffer in forced loneliness.

“You…you think it’s all fun and games to say stuff like that when I turn my back for a few minutes, huh?” He can see your hand palpitate from his peripheral; the anger depicted alone was enough to interpret. And the tremble in your voice? It felt like an arrow to his being. “…Look at me.”

He’d be a fool to have you repeat yourself; he has lost that right to toy with you now. With a slow inhale, Gojo rotates his head at you, azure eyes tracking up your figure to your face. And when it lands at that destination, his heart is shot down.

Tears stream down vexed, watery eyes. Your brows furrowed, and your bottom lip chewed in a terrible attempt to stop it from quivering. The rise and fall of your shoulders as you moderate your breathing, trying so hard not to let your temper dwell into a deeper phase of ugly. It was bad enough you’re crying in public, in front of your peers, your teacher — and it was because of him.

“From this day forward,” you fight your sniffles to say your statement as clearly as possible. “Don’t you ever talk to me, Satoru Gojo. Enjoy your life without something as boring as me.”

And with that, you dismiss yourself from him and the class altogether, the room silent even after the slam of the door closed. No one says anything, too shocked from the event to utter a letter.

The silence aids the ringing in Gojo’s ears, his breathing still having trouble maintaining a balanced front. The cheek you slapped burned with pain; he’s sure the skin is as red as a cherry.

Oh, fuck.

He brings a hand to his face, his body fighting the trembling. The ringing in his ears worsens, along with the pounding in his head that beats like a drum. His eyes stuck to the ground below him, choosing to focus on something inanimate and not living.

Fuck, fuck, fuck—

All he could think of in this time and place was you. Memories flashing right before him, of you and only you. He can hear the way you say his name, both in vexation and in sweet tunes. Your smiles, your frowns, your huffs, your whispers. When your eyebrows scrunch whenever you express worry for him, how you’re never afraid to stand up against him when making a point, the smile that’s been blinding him for many days and nights — the smile he wouldn’t mind seeing for eternity.

All those memories were one stab to his heart after another. And every time a recollection ended, a flash of your crying face would return to haunt him. Tears that weren’t meant to be there but were, and warm feelings you expressed with him were gone the moment he saw your eyes void of feelings for him. At least, that’s what he saw.

He hurt you. That was the only revelation that haunted him where he stood, making his voice falter from confidence. It was a revelation he never meant to bring about. And now that it exists and he sees the damage, nothing would be better for him now than the ground beneath him swallowing him whole.

“What…the fuck…”

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wafflefries13 · 14 days ago

Text

Home is Where Our Heart Is (Yandere Twisted Wonderland X Reader)

Summary: There's a rumor going around that Crowley found a way to send you back to your original world, and, well, the boys aren't taking the news well.

AN: First time writing yandere stuff. I originally wanted to have this out near Halloween to keep with scary stuff, but as long as it gets done eventually, right?

Cros-posted on my AO3 TheGhostInTheKitchen

Warnings: Can be read as romantic or platonic, possessive and obsessive behavior, spying, conspiring to poison, fighting - physical and verbal, AFAB reader with she/her pronouns.

“There’s something important I want to tell you guys,” (Y/N) said.

Ace and Deuce lifted their heads to look at her. The four of them, (Y/N), Grim, Ace, and Deuce, were all huddled together on the floor of the alchemy classroom, heads bent low as they worked on untangling long threads of manticore mane hair, the most recent punishment from Professor Crewel for some misdemeanor they probably deserved but still complained about.

“What’s up?” Ace asked. He grinned wickedly. “Did you fall through another rotten part of the floor at Ramshackle and need saving again?”

(Y/N) scowled as she swatted him with the back of her hand, without any real malice behind it. “No, and shut up. Maybe I won’t tell you.”

“Ignore him,” Deuce said, picking at a particularly stubborn knot. “What’s up?”

(Y/N) hesitated. “Actually, now might not be the best time.”

“Is it that thing you were talking to Crowley about?” Grim asked, gnawing at the hair. “Pah! Gross.”

“Keep that out of your mouth, you don’t know where it’s been. And yeah, that. Now that I’m thinking about it, though, it might just be easier to tell everyone all at once.”

Ace and Deuce looked at each other. “Everything okay?” Deuce asked slowly.

(Y/N) shook her head. “Oh, yeah, fine. Just kind of important, I think. And I’d rather do it all at once. Sorry, I shouldn’t have mentioned anything. Actually, I think I’m going to have a big dinner this weekend, invite everyone over. Ease the blow, maybe.” She chuckled mirthlessly at a joke only she knew.

Ace and Deuce looked at each other again, jaws tense and rising panic building behind their eyes. Their minds raced in tandem, putting together the puzzle pieces of the piecemeal information (Y/N) had told them. Something important involving Crowley, something she would want to keep on the down low until she was able to confront everyone at the same time. The Headmage himself didn’t really seem to carry especially important information. Considering all the work and responsibilities he dumped on (Y/N), they often wondered what exactly he even did at Night Raven College. But there was one thing he had supposedly been focused on since the beginning of the school year: finding a way to send (Y/N) back to her original world. But that couldn’t be it, right? There was no way the bird brain had actually mastered interdimensional magical travel, right? And, even if he had, there was no way (Y/N) was actually just going to up and leave, right?

Right?

The room was quiet for just a beat too long as the two Heartsabyul first years communicated silently. (Y/N) looked back up, her eyebrows scrunched together in worry. She opened her mouth to say something, but Ace cut her off with his signature troublemaker smirk and said, “Ooh, so mysterious. You sure you don’t need saving again? You have that bad habit of throwing yourself in danger every chance you get.”

With that, the tension was broken. (Y/N) swatted at Ace again, laughing. They chatted aimlessly as they continued their tedious work. But, the moment (Y/N) lowered her head to pull tangled hair from Grim’s claws, Ace and Deuce looked at each other again, faces set and serious. An agreement passed between them. They were going to need help.

~~~

“But did she say she was leaving?” Jack asked, voice tight but trying to remain calm.

Ace, Deuce, Jack, Epel, Ortho, and Sebek were in the quad near the wishing well. Other students milled around, going to clubs or studying, their voices drifting meaninglessly around the small group. Epel was pacing, fists balled at his sides, gnawing at his lower lip. Ortho stared, unmoving in that way that reminded people that he was in fact made of metal and wires and not flesh and blood. Sebek was standing soldier straight with his chin up. His mouth was pulled down in a frown, but that was so often his standard expression that only someone who knew him well would be able to see the actual distress on his face. Jack’s foot tapped restlessly, hands clasped together so tight his knuckles were turning bloodless.

“No,” Deuce said. “Not specifically. But what else would she be talking about, you know? We don’t keep secrets from each other.”

“But we don’t know anything for certain,” Jack said. “Maybe we-”

“This is bullshit!” Epel shouted. Several students walking by startled, hurrying away with their heads down. His accent came out strong. “She’s just gonna up and leave? After everything? Everything we’ve done and been through? Did none of it matter? Does she not even care about us?”

Deuce winced. “I mean, I guess she misses home-”

“We’re her home!” Ace hissed. “Epel’s right. She doesn't belong back there, whatever that place is.” Jack sighed, running a hand through his hair and tugging. “Well, what are we supposed to do? Keep her here?”

“That’s not a bad idea,” Sebek said. The others turned to him. He was looking off in the distance, eyes unfocused. When he felt their gaze, he turned back to them, blinking twice and clearing his throat. “Ahem, I only mean that Lord Malleus has grown rather fond of (Y/N) these past few months, for whatever reason. As his retainer, I couldn’t bear his distress if such a close friend were to vanish with no way of contacting them.”

“Lord Malleus,” Ace said. “Sure.”

“I would anticipate that the Prefect's absence would cause a rise of at least 75% in stress levels at Night Raven College. Accompanying this would also be an increased chance of Overblot by a minimum of 35%.” Ortho put a hand to his temple as his eyes flashed with calculations. “40%. 43%. 50%. 60%.”

“Right, right, we get it,” Epel said.

“Alright, we just need to think this through for a second,” Deuce said, standing and holding up his hands. “We can just explain, right? (Y/N)’s a good person, she’ll hear us out. We’ll just explain why we’re worried and, and…”

“And what?” Epel said. “You think we can somehow convince her to stay here?”

“Prefect (Y/N) technically doesn't exist in this world,” Ortho said. “She has no records outside of Night Raven College, no citizenship or birth certificate. Outside of the Night Raven College campus, she’s not even a ghost.”

“So,” Sebek said, eyes going glazed over again. “It would be simple for her to disappear from the rest of the world.”

A heavy silence fell over them. Immediately, everyone’s mind went to the same place, formulating a plan with the same end goal. Their hearts began racing as they started conjuring up ideas and methods of execution, solutions for technical problems that might arise. (Y/N)’s reaction to these plans didn’t particularly matter at the moment. After all, it would all be worth it in the end, right?

“Okay, wait, hang on,” Jack said, trying to quiet his racing thoughts and the dark places they were going. “We - we need to think this through. It’s not like we can just kidnap her or anything.” “You’re right,” Deuce said. “We’ll need help. If we want to pull this off we need resources.”

“We’ll need people to back us up,” Ace agreed. “Getting her somewhere in the first place is the easy part, but we wouldn’t want to scare her for too long, you know? If we can convince her we know best it’d be easier in the long run, right?”

“Lord Malleus has access to many fine manors in the Briar Valley,” Sebek said.

“All the way to the Briar Valley?” Epel said. “Isn’t that place still hostile against humans? We can go to Harveston, it’s in the middle of the mountains. My uncle has a hunting lodge out there, it’d be perfect.”

“The Isle of Woe is also an isolated location,” Ortho said. “And it would be much easier to keep (Y/N) under surveillance.”

“Wait!” The others went silent, watching Jack.

“Jack,” Ace said. “We’re either all in this together or not at all. Come on, how many times have we needed to save (Y/N)? How many times has she had to save us?” He leaned forward, elbows on his knees. “Would you really be okay with never seeing her again?”

Jack rubbed the back of his neck, eyes shut tight. They waited with bated breath for him to speak. Finally, he sighed. “Leona has resources. He has people, power, money. And I know he would want to know about this too. We’ll need other people to help with this. If she just suddenly vanished without warning I can think of several people who would look into it. And if they find out we planned something without them it would just make things more difficult.”

The others smiled, relieved that one of the hardest people to convince was unequivocally on board.

“Okay, so,” Ace said, clapping his hands. “We need a plan. Anyone have a good idea?”

The others were quiet, the holes in their initial imagination growing bigger and bigger.

“Well, no,” Deuce said. “But I know someone who might.”

~~~

The atmosphere in Octavinelle always walked the tightrope between cool and calming and cutthroat and calculating, but maybe that had more to do with the first year's previous experience than the actual building.

“Well, well, well,” Azul said smugly, leaning back in the plush chair in his office. “I didn’t expect to see you both back here so soon.”

Ace and Deuce squirmed in their seats, trying, and failing, to look nonplussed by the looming Jade and Floyd.

“Of course,” Azul continued. “I’m more than happy to assist any poor, unfortunate soul who should need my help. For the right price, of course. But, well, we’ve been through so much together, I’ll even give you a discount! What can the Monstro Lounge do for you today, boys?”

Ace cleared his throat, warily eyeing Floyd’s wide grin. “Actually, there’s something we could do for you.”

Azul raised a skeptical eyebrow. “Oh? Do tell.”

“We think (Y/N) is going back to her world,” Deuce spit out, cracking under pressure. “We have a plan, well, kind of a plan, we’re coming up with ideas, but we know she’d be better here, happier here, we just need time to convince her, you know? So we, Ace and me and the other first years, we’re wanting to keep her here, maybe not at NRC but somewhere, until we can convince her, make her see reason. And we thought, we know you guys like her too so we thought you would want to help or-”

“Shrimpy’s leaving?” Floyd said. His face was scrunched in confusion. Even Jade looked surprised, wide eyes and hand curled in front of his mouth. Azul had visibly paled, so much so that they worried he might faint.

“I-” Azul’s voice cracked.

“That’s quite the rumor,” Jade said, covering for Azul. “I could see it being very damaging if it was spread around in malice.”

“It’s not a rumor,” Ace said. “She basically told us yesterday.”

“Shrimpy’s leaving?” Floyd repeated. His face flashed from confusion to hurt to anger. Without a word, he snapped up, stalking to the door. He threw it open so hard it cracked against the wall leaving an indent from the knob in the plaster.

“Floyd!” Jade called after him.

“No!” The other twin snapped. He barreled through the Mostro Lounge, patrons and waiters jumping out of his way with wide and appropriately afraid eyes.

“Floyd, wait!”

“No!”

The others caught up with Floyd halfway to the mirror portal to the main campus. Jade caught Floyd by the elbow, ducking in a practiced way when Floyd’s other elbow swung back.

“No!” Floyd shouted again. “She’s not leaving! You’re lying!”

“See?” Ace said, waving his hand in Floyd’s direction. “You don’t want her to leave either! But no one’s going to like it if you just go up there and start freaking her out!”

“We’re telling everyone,” Deuce continued. “Well, not everyone, but the people important, you know? We’re planning a meeting to figure this out. We can’t let (Y/N) leave. We can’t.”

Floyd had calmed down enough that there wasn’t an immediate danger of a fight, but he was still seething. Jade still kept a tight grip on his brother’s arm, but it was more to anchor himself than keep Floyd from sprinting away again.

“A plan,” Azul said. “You need a plan. Or, perhaps, a certain magical way to prevent (Y/N) from doing something… inadvisable.”

“Yes, exactly,” Deuce said.

“We know it might be hard to get (Y/N) to sign one of your contracts given what’s happened before,” Ace said, giving Azul the side eye.

“But we need every resource we can pull together,” Deuce finished. “We’re setting up a meeting tomorrow. We can count on you guys being there, right?”

The three merpeople looked at each other. Unspoken conversation passed between them, the benefit of having known each other for the majority of their lives.

“I’ll start drafting a contract immediately,” Azul said, golden light flourishing around his hand as he kicked up his signature spell.

“I do believe there are certain species of mushroom in the nearby forest that could induce temporary paralysis,” Jade said, smiling slyly. “It might be worth it to have the Mountain Lovers Club take an unplanned execution.”

“Hey, if nothing else,” Floyd said. “I’d love to give Shrimpy a big squeeze.”

~~~

A pair of Pomefiore students were walking down the hall of their dorm, mindlessly chatting. They both froze as they heard a scream, followed by a loud crash. They crept to one of the sitting rooms, nudging the door open just enough to peek inside.

Vil, their fearless, elegant, always poised house warden screamed again. He picked up a vase, at least one hundred years old and filled with beautiful hard to cultivate lilies, and threw it against the wall, shattering into a thousand pieces. Reclining in one of the plush purple velvet chairs was the vice house warden Rook. His posture didn’t betray any concern or stress at Vil’s outburst, but the smile stretched across his face caused shivers to run down the spines of the two observers. Rook was tightly holding an arrow, his quiver at his side, tapping the sharper than usual point. Epel stood off to one side. He was hunched over, something that usually would have earned a scolding from Vil. He was carving an apple with single-minded determination, stabbing the soft flesh and discarding pieces with a flick of the wrist. Somehow, the stillness from the rambunctious farm boy who would jump at any chance to throw down was even more intimidating than if he was coming at them fists swinging.

The two students looked at each other before quietly closing the door behind them and rushing from the scene. Knowing the penchant for chaos NRC students had, whatever was going on was way beyond their pay grade.

Vil roared again, unending a long coffee table. It flipped twice before landing upside down, the papers and decorations on top fluttering in disarray. Vil took heaving breaths, facing a vanity on one side of the room, tightly gripping its sides as his nails carved tiny divots into the soft wood. He took one last deep breath, straightening and smoothing out his hair. He turned around, only a slight red flush any indication he was in distress.

“Alright,” He said. “Rook, my book.”

Rook jumped up, retrieving an intricately decorated purple and gold tome from where it had fallen. He handed it to Vil like a supplicant offering a sacrifice to a vengeful god, head slightly bowed and hands outstretched.

“What are you looking for?” Epel asked.

“I’ll know when I see it,” Vil said, not looking up. He flipped through the vellum pages. “A sleeping potion would be a temporary solution, at least as an easy way to secure her to another place. An Iron Stake spell is a possibility, but that would only secure her to one specific place and cause illness if she left the designated area, so that would be too restrictive. A potion to induce Hanahaki. If we can convince her she has a magical based illness, then she would need to stay somewhere she could receive magical treatment.”

“We were wanting to gather everyone in one place,” Epel said. “To come up with ideas.”

Vil scoffed. “As if half of those fools can even look farther than their own nose. I don’t trust anyone else to treat this issue with the delicate hand it needs.”

“Perhaps,” Rook said smoothly. “But we must consider that our dear Trickster has made a place in the hearts of many others. And while your methods would obviously be far superior and much more beautiful, we can’t discount the interference of well meaning interlopers.” Rook gave Epel a wink as he skillfully directed Vil into cooperation.

“Hmm,” Vil hummed, snapping the book shut. “Unfortunately, you have a point. Very well. Epel, we will attend this conclave. If nothing else than to emphasize that we know what’s best for (Y/N), despite what those uncultured miscreants might think.”

Epel set his apple down, stabbing his knife upright. He grinned wickedly. “Absolutely, House Warden.”

~~~

Jamil was cooking. Which, in itself, wasn’t that unusual. Jamil cooked all the time. Special meals for Kalim to ensure nothing was tampered with, feasts for the almost weekly Scarabia parties, just to have something other than the repetitive cafeteria fair. But whatever Jamil was doing now caused the gathered Scarabia students to stay out of the kitchen, watching in concern from their hiding places around the door.

Jamil was staring straight ahead, not paying attention to the incredibly sharp knife in his hand. He methodically chopped fruits and vegetables, not paying any attention that they were already in minuscule cubes, juices dripping down the counter to pool at his feet. A pot on the stove was close to boiling over. Even the fridge had been left open, cold air escaping into the warm room.

“Hey, what’s up?” Kalim asked, seeing his dorm mates crowded around the kitchen entrance. He sniffed the air and smiled. “Ooh, Jamil is cooking something good! Are you all waiting for it to be ready?”

“Uh, House Warden?” One of the students said tentatively. “I think you should check on Vice House Warden Jamil. He seems…”

“Stressed?” Someone offered.

“Distracted,” Another said.

“About to Overblot again,” A third muttered under their breath. The boys around him shushed him.

“Don’t worry, I’ll see what’s up!” Kalim said cheerfully. He waved them away, coming into the kitchen with the same happy-go-lucky free spirit he did everything with, not noticing the warry looks the departing students gave him. “Jamil!” He greeted, slapping Jamil’s shoulder. “What’s up?”

Jamil barely flinched, still looking at something in the far distance only he could see. “(Y/N) is leaving.”

“Hmm? Do we have a vacation coming up?”

“No, she’s leaving.”

Kalim’s smile started to falter. “Is she transferring or something? Like to Nobel Bell College?”

“No.” Jamil slammed the knife down, lodging in the cutting board. “She’s leaving. Leaving Night Raven College, leaving Sage’s Island, leaving Twisted Wonderland, leaving m-” He cut himself off. With a sharp pull, he yanked the knife out of the board, sliding over a sweet potato to dice. “She’s going back to her world. Crowley must have found a way. Ace and Floyd told me at basketball practice today. They’re organizing some sort of meeting with the others to talk about it. Whatever good that will do.”

“Oh.” Kalim blinked, thinking. “That… would be bad.”

Jamil laughed dourly. “That’s an understatement.”

Kamil smiled again. “Well, that’s fine. You can fix that easy, right?” Jamil stopped, turning to Kalim with a quizzical look. Kalim tapped his temple next to his eye. “You know, with your unique magic! You can just tell her not to leave, like you did with me.” He didn’t say it with any malice, not blaming Jamil for their past misadventure.

“I…”

“Oh, come on,” Kalim said, jumping up and coming over to Jamil, leaning against the counter and plucking at the desiccated food. “Don’t tell me you didn’t think of it. I know Snake Whisper doesn't last for too long, but if we bring her to one of the Asim chateaus, you know, maybe in the middle of the Scalding Sands desert, you can just recast it whenever, right? Oh, unless that wears you out too much. I bet we can find another way to keep her around while you recover though!” Kalim popped a date in his mouth nonchalantly, as if he hadn’t just suggested kidnapping and hypnotizing their friend for an undetermined period of time.

“You…” Jamil started, trailing off. He laughed, shaking his head. He turned down the stove on the boiling pot, scrapping the chopped vegetables into a bowl, and kicked the fridge door closed. “Well, if I have your permission, then who am I to argue?”

Kalim just smiled, eating another date.

~~~

Idia was typing so fast his hands were practically a blur. On his multi-monitor computer setup, footage from the multiple hidden cameras around campus zoomed by as he searched for specific information. He gnawed on his thumb nail.

“And you’re sure she said that?” He asked Ortho, resting in his charging station. “The Bird Brain found a way for her to go back-” He almost said ‘home,’ but that word didn’t feel right when talking about you. This was your home now, right? It was. It had to be. “Back to her original world?”

“Prefect (Y/N) was speaking to Ace Trapolla and Deuce Spade, so I didn’t hear her exact wording or was able to monitor her vitals for evidence of deception,” Ortho said. “But she had invited us and the others involved in the various Overblot incidents to dinner this Saturday, which aligns with the announcement they said she wanted to make.”

Idia kept clicking, following (Y/N)’s movements the day before she dropped a bombshell on Ace and Deuce. The world sped by at 10x speed on the screen. Idia’s hair sparked with red and orange as his concern, rage, and betrayal simmered underneath the surface.

He slowed the replay speed down as (Y/N) approached the Headmage’s office, meeting Crowley outside the door. There wasn’t any audio, Idia cursed himself for not installing that feature ahead of time. (Y/N) indicated the office and Crowley held the doors open for her with a flourish. He cursed again that he hadn’t managed to sneak any cameras in the office.

Idia sped up the footage again, scrambling when (Y/N) and Crowley left the office only a few minutes later. He would have thought a conversation about her possible return would have taken a lot longer. Crowley dramatically mimed wiping a tear from his masked eye, shaking her hand with both of his. As they were speaking, Professor Trein and Professor Crewel both walked up. Crowley waved them over, animatedly speaking to them, waving at (Y/N). Crewel patted her head while Trein gave her a warm smile and nod. Idia could just read Crewel’s lips as he said, “Good luck, pup.”

‘Good luck’? Why would she need good luck? She had all the luck she needed if she stayed here. How else would you explain all of the incidents that had happened all year while still escaping unscathed? You would only lose that luck if you went somewhere else, somewhere far, too far, away.

Idia bashed his hands against his keyboard, his fire-like hair engulfed in red, hitting the keys to pause the video. The video had stopped on a shot of her face, smiling, eyes crinkled at the corners, hand up in a silent goodbye.

No, not goodbye. Not if he could help it.

“Ortho,” Idia said. “Send a message to Mom and Dad. We’ll need a guest room set up.”

~~~

“And you told Azul before me?!” Riddle raged.

Ace and Deuce cringed back, subconsciously guarding their throats in case Riddle unleashed his unique magic.

The two first years had corralled Riddle, Trey, and Cater in one of the tea rooms at the Heatslabyul dorm. While Riddle had already started the impromptu meeting annoyed, there were rules for setting an assembly, priorities quickly shifted.

“Riddle,” Trey said, trying to keep his voice even and calm. “Would you want (Y/N) to see you like this?”

Riddle flinched back at Trey’s statement. He forced his shoulders to relax, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath. “One, two, three,” He began counting. “What’s he doing?” Deuce whispered.

“Counting,” Riddle said, voice still steely. “To try and calm my nerves so I don’t do something you’ll regret!”

“Don’t you mean ‘something I’ll regret’?” Ace asked. Deuce glared at him.

Riddle smiled coldly. “Yes, you will regret it.”

“Cater?” Deuce asked. The ginger-haired boy was humming tunelessly, tapping on his phone what a vacant look on his face. “Are you okay?”

“Of course,” Cater said. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Because (Y/N) might be leaving and we’ll never see or hear from her ever again?”

Cater only stared at him, blinking, eyes lost in a thousand yard stare. He suddenly perked up. “Oh! That reminds me. (Y/N) and I were going to go to the Glass Slipper Gala this summer! It’s pretty much impossible to get tickets to the actual event, obvi, but there are all these side parties where people dress up for the theme that year. Totally Magicamable and sups adorbs.” He lifted his phone and took a selfie, retreating back into his own world as he kept tapping on the screen.

“I… think he might be in denial,” Trey sighed. “It is a big change, I suppose.”

“That’s what I’m saying,” Ace said, spreading his hands. “It doesn't have to be! When we meet up with everyone tomorrow night-”

“Everyone?” Trey asked. “The more people involved in this, the more likely it is to get out of control. Especially with the, uh, strong personalities we have here.”

“So,” Ace said. “That’s why we’re telling you guys now. We’re obviously the best people to handle this. Sure, we let the other dorms think they’re in control, but that’s only the first part of the plan. You got to appeal to their egos, you know? And after that…”

“We swoop in with Heatslabuyl style and save the day!” Deuce finished.

“We all know she likes us best, anyway,” Ace said, leaning back with a confident grin. “And if we ‘save’ her from whatever those guys have planned, say we need to lay low for a while…”

“Then she not only depends on us,” Trey said, picking up the thread. “But she’ll also feel indebted to us.”

“And if anyone else tries to swoop in and make a nuisance of themselves,” Riddle continued. “She’ll be hesitant to trust anyone from the outside.”

“What’s that saying?” Deuce asked. “A gilded cage is still gilded?”

“Not exactly,” Trey said. “But, I’ll admit, it has the making of a good plan.”

Riddle humphed, hands on his hips. “Well, then, we don’t have very long. We need a strategy going into this meeting. Here,” He arranged parts of the tea set around the table, assigning each of them to one of their cabal. “We can use this to start visualizing a scenario.”

“Maybe we can wear matching outfits,” Cater said dreamily, still off in his own world.

~~~

Leona leaned back against the tree, crossing his arms behind his head, eyes closed. “So?” He said. His tail twitched restlessly beside him, the only sign of agitation.

Jack frowned. “So? So (Y/N) might be leaving and never coming back. We have to do something about this.”

“So, if she wants to go and throw away everything she has here, everyone who cares about her, everything she’s built, fine, go ahead. No skin off my nose.”

Ruggie’s ears were flat back against his head. “You’re such a liar.”

Leona cracked one eye open, glaring. “What was that?”

Ruggie jumped to his feet, gnashing his teeth. “Don’t just sit there and pretend you don’t care! Don’t act like this isn’t your fault! You act so laissez-faire all the time, like you don’t care about anyone or anything. You just push people away, you’ve pushed her away! And now we’re all paying for your inferiority complex!”

Leona lunged at Ruggie so fast Jack’s eyes couldn’t even track it. One second they were a yard apart, Leona pouting with not a care in the world, Ruggie standing, fists clenched tightly at his side. The next they were tumbling over each other, Ruggie snapping his teeth at Leona’s obviously superior strength as the House Warden held him down. Jack watched in shock, torn between wanting to pull them apart and respect for his seniors.

Leona pushed Ruggie face first into the dirt. Ruggie still snarled, letting out short breathed barks like an angry cackle. Leona hefted him up by the back of his shirt, biting down hard on the scruff of Ruggie’s neck. Ruggie immediately went limp, like a rag doll in the hands of a petulant child. Leona dropped him, standing over his still body and huffing hard.

“You,” He hissed. “Don’t get to challenge me. You don’t get to tell me how I’m meant to react. You have no idea how I feel, about her or anything else.”

Ruggie looked over his shoulder, glaring daggers, but said nothing.

“I-” Jack started. His voice caught in his throat in a lump at the withering look Leona gave him. “I told the others you would be able to help. No one is doubting you’re a good leader,” His eyes cut to Ruggie on the floor, who scowled but said nothing. “We all know it. We also all know you care a lot more than you pretend to. You’re clever, an amazing strategist, and you have abilities and resources none of us could dream of. Be honest with yourself. After everything that’s happened, after your Overblot, would you really be fine with (Y/N) disappearing?”

“And do you really want Malleus scooping her up? You know he will.” Ruggie mumbled.

Leona stalked around the glade, ears back and tail thrashing. He ground his teeth, fangs cutting into his lower lip. He roared, hand striking out, claws raking across a tree to leave deep gashes. He huffed, straightening and turning around. With little effort, he picked Ruggie up by the back of his vest and set him on his feet.

He looked at the two of them, face set in determination. “Alright. (Y/N)’s not going anywhere.”

~~~

The sky around the Diasomnia dorm cracked with green lightning. Students ran for cover, dodging torrents of hail, sleet, and needle-like rain. Dark clouds swirled around the spiky towers of the dorm, threatening to turn into tornados.

Silver, Sebek, and Lilia trailed behind Malleus, futilely trying to catch up with his long strides. Lilia hopped up and quickly flew in front of the dragon prince.

“Now, just a moment, Malleus,” Lilia pleaded, hands up.

Malleus evaporated in a cascade of green sparks, reappearing several feet behind Lilia, continuing his determined march without a pause in his step. Lilia sighed and rolled his eyes, catching back up with the two knights in training.

“We don’t know for sure if she’s leaving,” Silver said, trying to act as a voice of reason.

“What other conclusions would you draw from that?” Sebek snapped. “His majesty deserves to have every piece of available information to make the best decision for all involved.”

“Which is why we need to slow down and think things through.”

“Are you doubting Lord Malleus’s desition making skills in the time of crisis?”

“She shall be kept in the highest room in the tallest tower deep in the heart of Briar Valley,” Malleus said, almost to himself. “I’ll lock her in shackles of gold, give her a collar of diamonds and pearls, line her cage with velvet. No one shall take my child of man from my side, be it herself or any one else.”

They looked at each other, quickening their step.

Just as Malleus was reaching for the front door, ready to burst through to the mirror room, Lilia jumped in front of him, arms splayed wide. “Hold it!” He shouted. “Hold everything!” Malleus frowned, crossing his arms and glaring. Lilia put a hand to his chest, trying to catch his breath. “Honestly, I can’t keep up with you young ones anymore.”

“I suggest you think carefully about what you say next, old man,” Malleus said coldly.

“And I suggest you think carefully about the consequences of your actions, not to mention those around you. Really, do you think any of us want to see (Y/N) leave? Of course not. That’s why Sebek came to tell you in the first place. He trusts you enough to know you would be able to deftly handle the situation. And if you would stop to think for a moment, you would realize marching up to Ramshackle, spells blazing, would only create a rift between you and our dear Prefect, yes?” Malleus pressed his lips together, obviously still annoyed at the interruption, but understanding Lilia’s perspective. “As the future ruler of the Briar Valley, you need to learn how to handle matters with finesse as well as brutality. You don’t want to show (Y/N) a darker side of yourself, right? She already thinks the world of you, we all know that, don’t we, boys?” Lilia motioned Silver and Sebek, who nodded. “Simply telling her what you want and expecting no resistance might, well, damage her option of you, however misguided she might be.”

“She is misguided,” Malleus said. “And a wayward subject needs a firm hand to direct them.”

“But (Y/N) isn’t a subject,” Silver interjected. He had to stop himself from physically taking a step back at the sudden heat of Malleus’s gaze. “At least, not yet. It’s like… Frogs. Remember, Father?”

“Frogs? Oh, yes! How clever, Silver!” Lilia said, clapping his hands. “If you put a frog in a pot of water and slowly turn up the heat underneath it, the frog won’t realize the water is boiling until it’s too late.”

“So, acclimation?” Malleus said.

“Exactly!” Sebek said. “That was our original plan! We keep her here just long enough to convince her this is the best place to be. And, of course, who wouldn’t want to stay in your glorious presents, Lord Malleus?”

Lightning continued to crackle across the sky, but the deluge had reduced to a mild thunderstorm.

“I will not lose her.”

“Of course not! None of us want to, we would never dream of it!” Lilia said.

Malleus closed his eyes in thought for a moment before turning to Silver and Sebek. He called their names and they stood at attention. “I have a list of ingredients I need before this… meeting. I trust you will be able to procure them for me quickly.” He manifested paper and a quill pen from the air, the list writing itself midair before tearing in half and splitting between the two knights. They left with a salute.

As they went to search, Lilia hummed, floating next to Malleus. “That is quite the potion you want to brew.”

“Reassurance and reinforcement,” Malleus said. “In case someone wants to try and make things difficult for us. After all, dragons are naturally jealous creatures.”

~~~

They congregated in the House Warden’s meeting room under cover of night. It was all cloak and dagger, literally in some cases. Tensions were high, the atmosphere in the room could have been cut with a knife. The House Warden’s took their seats around the round table, the others standing dutifully behind them.

Everyone looked at each other with suspicion. Why should they have any say with what happened to (Y/N)? They weren’t as close to her, didn’t deserve her as much as the other party. They would only hurt her in the end. ‘No, our plan is the best,’ Each group thought. Although they had originally arranged to create one master plan with every dorm involved, the meeting quickly descended into shouting voices, a cacophony of accusations, declarations, and split tensions.

The din only subsided briefly when the door to the meeting room was opened. Sebek and Silver both held one door open for Malleus to stride through, looking for all the world like the crown prince he was. Lilia floated behind him, giving a small wave as they entered.

“Oh, dear,” Lilia said. “I hope we’re not too late.”

“Not at all,” Riddle said through clenched teeth. “We were just discussing what we should do at the dinner tomorrow when (Y/M) makes her announcement.”

“There is no discussion,” Azul said. “We need to make a move before that! I’ve drafted a contract that would-”

“Again with your contracts,” Jamil interrupted. “And how exactly are you planning on getting her to sign it? She’s not as easy to trick as some more gullible people.”

“Hey!” Ace shouted. “Don’t act so high and mighty! Everyone on campus knows that we’re her best friends!” “That’s right!” Deuce said. “We only brought you all in as a courtesy. We should be the ones who decide what happens next!”

Arguments broke out again, everyone talking over each other, spells aching to be slung.

Malleus took his seat and watched the growing chaos. He swept his eyes over the tables, taking in the faces of all involved. For a moment, he was touched. You had truly ingrained yourself in the lives of everyone present in such a short amount of time. They were all willing to do so much for you, risk everything, all for your benefit. And you didn’t even realize it.

But, of course, his love was the purest of them all.

Cooly, Malleus plucked a vial from his front pocket, setting it on the table without a word. He leaned back in his chair, waiting for their reactions. As the participants took note of the new object, talk dwindled to silence. The air went still as every eye focused on the small bottle Malleus set on the table. It was no bigger than three inches tall, frosted glass, with a ball shaped stopper. A light pink liquid sloshing around inside, seeming to swirl completely independent of any outside influence. It glowed slightly, casting their astonished faces in a sickly sweet light.

“A love potion?” Vil said breathlessly.

“That is… highly illegal,” Riddle said.

“I’m sorry,” Malleus said. “I thought we were looking for solutions.”

“And besides,” Lilia added cooly. “Isn’t everything we’re discussing now highly illegal?”

“Can you even call it illegal for a person who doesn't legally exist?” Jade thought out loud.

“Hang on,” Leona said, standing. “A love potion would only work on the first person she sees after she drinks it. What are you trying to plan here, lizard?”

Malleus looked down at Leona. “It would be best if she were to be with the one who is able to take the best care of her. Unless you’re suggesting you could do better?”

“I think,” Vil interjected before Leona had a chance to start another fight. “What Leona is saying is that we all care deeply about (Y/N). That’s why we’re all here, isn’t it? And if she were to be, let’s say, connected to only one person, it might defeat the whole purpose of us coming together to find a solution to our mutual problem.”

“If it’s the first person she sees,” Kalim said. “Well, we’ll all be together for dinner anyway, right? Is there a way we can have her see us all at the same time?”

“If Prefect (Y/N) is standing at the head of the table,” Ortho said, holding his hands out to visualize the situation. “Then it is possible to have multiple people in her field of vision at the same time.”

“Hang on,” Trey said. “I know we’re talking about essentially kidnapping here, but isn’t a love potion a little extreme?”

“Maybe we could consider that a last resort?” Idia said. “Especially since we’re already planning on trying to convince her to stay in other ways.”

Malleus plucked up the vial and tucked it back into his pocket. “If that is the general consensus, I’ll agree for now.”

“For now,” Leona echoes with a glare. Malleus smiled pleasantly at him.

The introduction of the ultimate ultimatum seemed to cool tensions in the group. Eventually, a tentative agreement was reached. Of course, whether or not everyone would actually follow that agreement day of was up for debate. The factions retreated to their dorms, waiting for the next day with both trepidation and anxiety-riddled anticipation.

~~~

(Y/N) felt like something was off. On the surface, everything was normal. Well, as normal as it could be for this particular group of magic students. Everyone seemed to be chatting pleasantly enough, sitting around a long table (Y/N) and Grim had pulled into the Ramshackle guestroom. But, the more she paid attention, the more stiff everyone came across. She felt like everyone was watching her, that there would be a group pause whenever she spoke. It made goosebumps spring up on her arms.

She supposed it might have been a general reaction to her sudden invitation and the announcement she had said she wanted to make. She thought she should have found out a better way to tell everyone at once, maybe something that would have caused less stress. She had hoped that having good food and good company would make this less stressful, for her and them. But, possibly aside from Ruggie and Grim both scarfing down whatever they would get their hands on, almost everyone else seemed to be picking at their food.

‘Well,’ She thought. ‘No time like the present.’ She stood, shivering a little when everyone’s head snapped in her direction. Even if she already had their attention, she still cleared her throat to prepare for her announcement. “Hello! First, I want to thank you all for coming! I know everyone values their day off, so I appreciate you all taking the time to come see me.I also wanted to say how much you all mean to me. I came here with nothing, no idea how I got here, no magic, obviously. And I’ll admit there have been some really intense and scary moments, but I’ve been able to get through everything thanks to all of you. And I wouldn’t want to be stuck here with anybody else. I’m so happy I got to meet you all.” At this, her voice cracked a little, eyes going misty. Grim jumped into her arms and she pulled him close in a tight hug. “Right, anyway, sorry, I’m getting sentimental. So, as I’m sure you all know, Crowley has been looking for a way for me to go back to my world since I came here. And the other day, well, I told him to stop. I’ve decided I’m going to stay here, in Twisted Wonderland. I know it will be hard, and to be honest, I’m not really sure how a lot of it will work out. But there’s nowhere else I’d rather be.”

All was silent, a spring coiled ready to snap. Then, Cater burst into tears.

“Cater?” (Y/N) asked, worried. She rushed over to him and he slung his arms around her, pulling her in for a hug.

“I-I thought-thought that you-” Cater tried to say through sobs. “I’m so happy!”

And with that, the room relaxed. A collective breath was released as everyone finally seemed to come back to themselves.

With the tension finally broken, (Y/N) felt her shoulders relax. She wasn’t totally sure what reaction she was going to get, it definitely wasn’t what she was expecting from Cater. For the past few days she felt a heavy miasma building over her, a sense of dread that kept building but she couldn’t find a source for. As she watched her friends chat, passing plates between each other, clinking glasses, she smiled. She should have known there wasn’t anything to worry about. After all, she had everyone here with her. She knew she could always trust them to have her back.

After the party meandered to a close, (Y/N) made the rounds of saying goodnight to everyone as they got ready to leave. Although, as they might say in her world, it definitely felt like a ‘Minnesota long goodbye.’ Everyone was lingering, coming up with just one more thing to talk about, putting on coats only to take them off again, wondering out loud if she was really sure she didn’t need help cleaning up, and it was already dark out, would it maybe be easier if they just stayed the night? People seemed to linger tonight, an extra touch on her shoulder, a hug just a second longer than usual, a turn on phrase that hid something (Y/N) couldn’t see. But, considering the tense atmosphere at the beginning of their dinner, she tallied it up to whatever strange mood had taken her friends.

(Y/N) puffed out a breath as Ace unexpectedly crashed into her back, throwing his arms around her to pull into a backward hug. “Geeze, (Y/N)” He whined without any real heat. “You sure know how to make something dramatic, huh? Got us worried something bad was happening for a while.”

“Don’t be mean,” Deuce said. He smiled. “Seriously, we’re really glad you’re deciding to stay, though. You’ll let me know if you need any help, yeah?”

“You’ll let us know,” Ace clarified. (Y/N) missed the glare that passed between them. “Speaking of, next time you - Ack!” Ace was cut off with a heart-shaped collar suddenly appearing around his neck, Deuce sporting a matching one, his eyes downcast and lip wobbling.

“You’ll have to excuse us, (Y/N),” Riddle said, tugging at Ace’s collar. “These two are late for a lecture on causing unnecessary panic.” With Trey comforting a still misty-eyed Cater and Riddle dragging away the other two first years who waved goodbye with resigned compliance, they departed into the night.

“Thanks for having us,” Jack said. Ruggie’s arms were piled high with plenty of Tupperware loaded with leftovers. Leona stood behind, trying to look disinterested, but keeping a sharp eye on anyone who tried to get too close to their conversation.

“Of course! I’m glad you guys could come. I was just thinking - Oh, Ruggie!” (Y/N) gasped, reaching out for the red circular mark on the back of Ruggie’s neck. “Are you okay?”

Ruggie’s hand shot up, covering what suspiciously looked like a bite mark. From over her shoulder, Leona shot him a glare that could turn a man to stone.

“Oh, yeah, fine!” Ruggie said quickly. “Yeah, just-”

“Just doing something stupid,” Leona cut in. “That won’t be a problem in the future, right?”

Ruggie’s ears went flat as he narrowed his eyes. “Yeah, you got it, House Warden.”

(Y/N) opened her mouth to ask if everything was alright between them when Jack cut her off. “We’ll see you tomorrow, (Y/N). If you have any trouble now that you’ve decided to stay, you can always come to Savannahclaw first.”

(Y/N) blinked at the sudden stoniness of Jack’s voice. “I’ll… Keep that in mind. Thanks, Jack.”

As she waved them off she felt a familiar prickle at the back of her neck. With half a second to spare, she quickly sidestepped, dodging Floyd’s incoming hug. He stumbled a little bit, turning to glare, but the effect was ruined by the wide cheerful smile on his face.

“Shrimpy~” He said in a singsong voice. “You’re not trying to escape me again, are you?”

“Again?” She said. “What-”

“What my brother means to say,” Jade said. “Is that we’re very happy we’ll continue to be blessed with your presents.”

“Sure,” (Y/N) said. “I’m happy, too.”

“And of course,” Azul continued smoothly. “If you happen to have any difficulties settling in, we would be more than happy to assist you. Why, I’d even be so inclined to offer our services at a discount! For old times sake.”

“Or,” Jade said, slinging his arm around her shoulder. “You could just move to the bottom of the sea with us.”

“You would get used to the cold,” Floyd said, wrapping his arm around her other shoulder. “We could just squeeze you real tight to keep you warm.”

“Thanks for the offer, guys,” She said, shrugging out of their constricting embrace.

“If you want to stay somewhere warm,” Kalim interrupted, grasping her arm and pulling her into him. “Why won’t you come to Silk City? I bet my family would love to meet you! Right, Jamil?”

Jamil had an unfocused, faraway look in his eye, only snapping back when Kalim said his name. He moved to put himself between them and the Octavinelle trio. “Right,” He said. He tilted his head down, hair falling in a curtain to separate them from the rest of the room, Kalim’s hug tightened as his smile sharpened. Jamil met (Y/N)’s eyes. “(Y/N), look at me for a second. I-”

“(Y/N)!” She was yanked out of Kalim’s tightening constrictor hug into an equally smothering embrace, heady with the scent of lilac and apples. “There you are! I’m so happy to see you!” Epel continued. He was using that formal voice, pitched higher to emphasize his naturally cute appearance that Vil had been training him in.

“Oui, mon trickster! We couldn’t bear to leave without complimenting what a wonderful party you put together!” Rook continued, snatching her out of Epel’s arms into his own. (Y/N) was starting to get dizzy from being thrown in between people so much. As Rook took her full attention, Epel sneered at the Scarabia duo, sticking out his tongue before melting back into the perfect picture of polite sweetness.

Vil interrupted (Y/N) getting smothered with a gentle but definitive touch on her shoulder. “I can’t tell you how pleased your decision makes me, (Y/N),” He said. (Y/N) sometimes forgot that outside of NRC, Vil was ranked as one of the most beautiful people in the world, a five-star actor and model. At this moment, with him looking down at her with every ounce of that carefully cultivated deminor, it took her breath away. She would have done almost anything he asked of her at that moment. Which was exactly what he was banking on.

“I’d love for you to consider spending the summer in the Shaftlands with me. I’m sure you wouldn’t want to be all alone here on campus, and I could use an assistant during filming.”

“Or,” Epel said sharply. “You can come with me to Harveston! We could always use a couple extra hands in the orchards. And you know my grandma would love to see you again. You liked it there the last time, right? She’d be so disappointed if she didn’t get to see you.”

“The Hunt family always love visitors!” Rook added.

“Thanks, guys,” (Y/N) said, twisting out of their grasp. They snatched at the air where she was, fixing their faces back to pleasant smiles when she turned to face them. “I appreciate it. I’m not really sure what it’s going to be like when the school year is over, but I’ll let you know!”

“If you’re talking about traveling,” Ortho said, taking her hand and pulling her over to Idia who was stabbing at his tablet, eyes darting as she came over. “You can come with us! The Isle of Woe is unlike anywhere in the world! And we’ve got a ton of cool tech that Idia’s been working on, right, Idia?”

Idia stuttered to life, pressing the tablet to his chest to hide the screen (Were those images of the rooms around Ramshackle?). “What? Oh, yeah, sure! It’ll be better than the last time, probably. I could probably convince Mom and Dad to get you an internship.”

“I appreciate the offer, but I don’t think I’m half as smart enough to know anything about all that stuff you guys work with. It’s all sci-fi as far as I can tell. But I wouldn’t mind visiting, if that’s okay! I’d love to be able to explore everything when we’re not worrying about Overblot Phantoms. Uh, sorry.”

“You shouldn’t have to apologize for something that’s true,” Sebek said, stepping up, shoulders back, hands clasped tightly behind him. He and Idia exchanged knife-sharp looks, Idia’s hair sparking red at the edges. Ortho quickly swooped in, giving their goodbyes and pushing Idia away.

Sebek’s eyes trailed them with military precision as Lilia swept in to distract (Y/N). “Oh, I can’t tell you how happy you’ve made me!” Lilia said, exaggeratedly sniffing and whipping an invisible tear from his eye.

“We know it might be hard to adjust,” Silver said. “But we want you to know that we all care about you and we’re more than willing to help.”

“And we do mean anything,” Lilia said. “You should definitely come to us first, okay? No need to waste time on anyone else.”

“‘Waste time’?” (Y/N) asked.

“What Father means is,” Silver interjected. “We want you to know you can rely on us. With making sure a big change, there’s bound to be some uneven footing. You’ve proved you’re more than capable over and over again, but still…” His hand drifted out, trailing along her sleeve, before catching himself and snatching it back, gripping the hilt of his magical baton tightly.

“We should go,” Sebek said. He looked sternly at (Y/N). “Don’t do anything stupid, human.”

“I try every day.”

~~~

The night air was warm as (Y/N) stood on the front steps of the old house, waving goodbye as her guests departed for the night. As much as she loved to see them, she admitted to herself that it was kind of nice to finally have Ramshackle to herself for the night. Well, herself plus Grim and the ghosts, but whatever. Malleus stepped out next to her. He nodded at his dorm mates, giving them a look that (Y/N) missed.

(Y/N) stepped back inside, starting to pick up plates and leftovers. Malleus stood in the doorway, horns brushing the top of the doorframe, unmoving except for his eyes which tracked her.

“I’m glad you came,” She said, stacking plates. “I mean, I knew you would, but I’m still happy.”

“Of course,” Malleus said, fully stepping into the room. “I would come whenever you call.”

“Sap,” (Y/N) teased. She paused, plates clinking against each other. “I’m glad I’m staying. And I’m glad everyone is so willing to help. I mean, I know we’ve all been through a lot together here, but this is a lot all at once. It’s kind of scary, you know? There’s so much basic information about this world that I still don’t know. I mean, I’ve been pretty lucky that I’ve been able to visit so many places like going to everyone’s hometown and everything. But it feels like everyday I learn something totally new that rearranges my whole perception of the world, and everyone else just treats it like normal. I…” She trailed off. “You know Rollo and I have kept in touch? He asked if I would come visit during spring break. Fluer City is supposed to be beautiful that time of year, but I think it’s probably beautiful any time of year. He’s tried to convince me to transfer to Nobel Bell College a couple of times, but I told him I like it here too much. But Professor Crewel said he might be able to get me an internship at a fashion house there, did you know he used to be a designer? Anyway, it’s something that doesn't need magic, so it could be a good fit. And now everyone is offering me a place to stay after graduation. Hey, maybe I’ll do a full Twisted Wonderland tour! I’ll have to start figuring out where I’ll be after school anyway, right? A degree from Night Raven College might be prestigious, but not having any magic can only get me so far, you know? I’ll need to take whatever opportunity I can get.”

Malleus froze, turning her words over in his head. He stepped forward. “You work so hard, dear Child of Man,” He said. He placed a heavy hand on her shoulder. “Please, sit, you deserve a moment of respite. Here, drink this.” A mug of some steaming and sweet smelling drink appeared in Malleus’s hands. He pressed it into hers, insistent.

“Oh, thanks, Hornton,” She said, taking a long sip, not noticing the slight pink sheen of the steaming liquid.

906 notes · View notes

sharkikive · 6 months ago

Text

match made in heaven (ken sato x fem!reader)

Summary: You were Professor Sato’s research assistant and your apartment just got destroyed by Ultraman.

Somehow, this led to a matchmaking project between you and the infamous baseball player, Ken Sato.

Word count: 6,887

A/N: I yap a lot when it comes to writing. Just writing this because the Ken Sato brainrot is too damn strong. Just a bunch of gibberish. Not my best but currently too hung up on Kenji. Includes mention of Professor Sato, Mina and Emi (definitely having baby fever because of her).

Ken Sato.

His name was a staple in your daily life, yet you had never met the man face to face.

The moment you thought you had escaped from hearing the broken recording of his name, it was brought up once again as the news of him returning to Japan plastered the news.

You rolled your eyes at the screen, but were careful enough not to let the old man hunched over the table, poring over some papers on Kaiju, see you.

Well, you could not exactly tell the father that you were tired of hearing his son’s name everywhere, could you?

“Professor Sato,” you started. “I shall take my leave for today.”

“Ah yes, sure. Please have a safe journey back home. I’m sorry this old man can’t send you back safely,” he replied, to which you quickly dismissed.

“Professor, I’ll be fine.” You chuckled lightly, “In case you have forgotten, I’m already 26. I’m already an adult. No longer the wide-eyed, 17-year-old you first took under your wing.”

He gave out a breathy laugh, sniffling as you knew what’s going to come out of his mouth next. You resisted the urge to stop him, purely out of respect.

“Kenji is the same age as you. I wish you could meet him, but that child is very stubborn. He wouldn’t even answer my calls, let alone meet me.” He paused, as if thinking of the next sentence, but went against it.

You only smiled weakly, the only response you’d always given when he mentioned his son’s name. You took this as a sign to leave before bowing and setting off to your apartment.

You didn’t have the heart to tell him that you were tired of listening to that man’s name every single time. Yes, you knew that it was Professor Sato’s guilt that kept him talking about his son, but the more you heard about him, the more you found him less likeable.

He came back to Japan, yet he did not even contact his father even once? Yet Professor Sato would talk about him every day.

You knew nothing about baseball, and did not care to find out, but the appearance of Ken Sato forced you to learn that he’s apparently about to be the saviour for the Giants.

You sighed, stopping under the night sky as you watched people milling about the streets.

You were an ambitious girl who had a deep interest in Kaiju and without shame, Ultraman. Ultraman was the first hero you knew and grew up with, so imagine the elation you felt when you found out that Professor Sato was affiliated with both. He agreed to take you under his wing with the condition that you finished your degree, so the moment you had gotten your scroll you showed up in front of him, eager to start.

He probably couldn’t turn you away considering how you seemed… pitiful. Yup, that’s probably the word.

You enjoyed working as his research assistant, but found out soon enough that he was a lonely man who missed his wife and son dearly. He was a father figure to you, considering that you were orphaned at a young age.

It was a peaceful night.

Well, if you consider the scene of Neronga choking Ultraman as a peaceful night.

Correction: It was supposed to be a peaceful night.

You stepped back as the gigantic hero got slammed into another building, destroying yet another public property. You winced as it was obvious that the hero was not upholding the principles and seemed more like he was trying to destroy as much as he could.

The thing that irritated you the most? You knew exactly who it was under that suit.

You shook your head, not even bothering to see how the fight would go. You were 100% sure the KDF would be gunning down the Kaiju in no time.

You set off again, mildly hoping that your apartment did not get obliterated in the chaos, or you would definitely hunt that baseball player down.

It was hard to ignore the fight when two giants were stomping around the city, and you dropped dramatically on your knees when you saw Ultraman being launched in the direction of your building.

“No-” you weakly said, knowing that your voice was merely a speck of hopelessness among the gasps of the crowd, Ultraman’s groan and Neronga’s roar. From behind your glasses, a tear rolled down your face as you saw your apartment building crumbling, all thanks to that stupid, cocky, asshole of a baseball player.

Now thanks to Professor Sato’s beloved son, you were homeless.

***

Maybe it was your lack of sleep from worrying about how the progress of rebuilding your house went, because you were dragged by Professor Sato at 2 in the morning to the secret base, facing a scene that you promptly found ridiculous.

Right, seeing the giant hero hunched over in front of you was no surprise because you knew exactly who it was. A little bit weird how he’s here considering his relationship with his father, but that wouldn’t be an issue.

But what was an issue was that the said giant was cradling an equally gigantic pink baby Kaiju and was- you took a step back.

Something must had happened because Ken Sato was crying in front of you. Not the scene you’d expect in the morning while being sleep-deprived.

Your mind was only registering the words ‘injured’, ‘need help’ and the rest was a blur as Professor Sato helped in correcting the fracture in the Kaiju’s arm. The Kaiju was calmed down, brought to sleep and you could not help but smile at the sleeping baby.

Part of the reason you were still there was because you found the baby Kaiju so adorable with her chubby cheeks and twitterings.

Another part was because you were curious to see (discreetly, of course, under the pretext of looking over the Kaiju) the dynamic between Ultradad and well, the son. You were facing the Kaiju but you were straining your ears to eavesdrop on the conversation.

“Doing this-“ you picked up a sentence, -“doesn’t suddenly make you Ultradad.”

You felt slightly perturbed. Kenji came in here pleading while crying, Professor Sato helped him without any questions yet the son was barely grateful for it.

But you knew you’re no one to be meddling in their family affairs.

So you kept quiet, straining your ears with Mina - the robot - hovering nearby.

Your mind wandered to whether it would be plausible for you to chip in a request for Ken Sato’s autograph and sell it high to make up for the costs of your destroyed apartment.

That’s the least he could do after reducing your safe space into rubble.

You snapped back to the present as you heard your name being called, and was greeted with the sight of a smiling father and a son looking like he’d love to be anywhere but here.

Ken Sato was not smiling, but he didn’t look like he hated you either.

The next thing you knew was that you were left alone with Ken, and you couldn’t help but think Professor Sato had a hidden agenda because he left with a chuckle. Even Mina was nowhere in sight.

What could I possibly say to this man I’ve never met before?

The young man in front of you looked starkly different from the confident, boastful man you had seen in interviews. Instead, he seemed more like a sad excuse who looked so distraught you swore you could see him shrinking.

“So uh-” he started, scratching his head with an awkward smile. “Y/N… right?”

Your eyebrows lifted at the mention of your name.

“Dad told me about your apartment.” He grimaced. “I’m sorry.”

You clicked your tongue. “Other than the fact that I became homeless, it’s no issue.”

You did not intend it to be a joke, but it seemed that the only immediate response he could give was to laugh awkwardly, before he buried his face in his hands. “God- I’m so- sorry.” He pried his fingers slightly to look at you, before continuing. “I came back to Japan because dad wanted me to continue this- I don’t know what you call this. Legacy?”

Your eyes trailed his movements; you got slightly startled as he suddenly sprang up and you pushed back your glasses.

“High hopes from everyone ever since I started playing for the Giants, dad wanting me to become Ultraman and-“ he sighed exasperatedly, “it was too much.”

You rubbed the tip of your nose before shrugging. “Well, you did seem confident while you were on TV. If you ask me, you gave them that confidence.”

He left his mouth slightly hanging open as he didn’t expect you to give it to him straight.

You continued, “Ultraman is a hero for some, if not all. Some of them may not care. But all,” your eyes collided with his as he plopped back down onto the sofa, “don’t know who is under that suit. All they know is Ultraman is supposed to be the hero protecting the city with-“ you pressed your lips into a thin line, “-minimal damage.”

He blinked. Did he look like he wanted to cry again?

The corner of your lips lifted up slightly, but you quickly switched it off as he looked at you imploringly.

You raised your hands shoulder-level, hiding a yawn before managing. “Don’t expect me to become your counsellor, but what I’m saying is, when you’re Ken Sato, the baseball player, of course they’d expect you to play well. When you’re Ultraman, people expect you to be the hero.” You interlinked your fingers. “They don’t see you becoming both at the same time. And now, you added another point to your resume. You became a single dad.”

He chuckled and ran a hand through his hair. He sucked in his lower lip and for the first time ever you thought that maybe Professor Sato’s son wasn’t that bad at all, both personality and lookwise.

“I can’t comment much about what you feel about your father. I won’t deny that my opinion on you was formed only based on what I saw, but I now know that you must have had a reason why you acted that way to your father.” You shrugged. “I saw a lonely father and a distant son. Because I spent almost all of my time with Professor Sato, please trust me, he talks about you every single day.” You spread your arms, “Your father talked about you, the TV was blaring news about you 24/7 and I was exhausted hearing your name all the time.”

He didn’t seem offended, but was merely focusing on the one sentence. “My father talks about me every day?”

”Every day,” you breathed. “You and your mother.” You smiled, “He never stopped thinking about both of you.”

”Huh.” It seemed like he didn’t know how to react.

This time, you couldn’t help but yawn so you got up quickly, intending to leave the base. If the conversation wasn’t finishing, you were sure you were about to finish it. Your eyelids couldn’t hold much longer.

It was nice having a talk with this infamous baseball player and it sure did change your perspective of him.

He looked on, confused, as you gave a slight nod before heading towards the exit.

”Hey-“ he started, doing a slight jog to catch up to you, who was almost asleep standing up. He gently grabbed the strap of your sling bag, and you snapped your eyes open. He retracted his hand, citing, “Sorry. But where do you think you’re going?”

It was your turn to look confused. “Home?” You said it as a question rather than a statement. “Wait,” you tracked back, “not home. My temporary home at the inn down the road because,” you giggled, clearly drunk from the lack of sleep, “Ultraman destroyed my home.”

”And because Ultraman destroyed your home, you’re staying with me,” he said smoothly, slightly nudging your back with his shoulder. Clearly he struggled as you were much shorter than him.

”With you?” You had no idea where the idea was going yet so you shook your head. “Why would I want to stay with you?”

He took a step back and tugged at the strap of your sling back, essentially dragging you with him. “Don’t misunderstand. Dad’s staying with me as well, we have Mina and you’re joining me because we need to train her.”

”Wait, wait, wait.” You slapped a hand on his shoulder, but he was still holding on strong to the strap. “We? Her? What are we even talking about?”

You were clearly guided by him as you found yourself standing underneath his gaze in front of the Kaiju’s enclosure.

”We as in you, me, dad and Mina.” He nodded, looking satisfied. “Her as in this baby.” He did a show of hands towards the sleeping Kaiju.

You grimaced. “Sir, I did say that my perspective on you has changed, but that doesn’t mean you’re dragging me with you.”

”You’re my dad’s research assistant, right?”

You narrowed your eyes at him. “Yes…” You didn’t like where this is going.

”You don’t have a house… yet.”

”Yes…”

You took a step back, and what you could describe him now was as a puppy as he imitated your actions. There was a twinkle in his eyes as he leaned down to level his eyes with yours before saying, “Your boss is here, and you currently have no home to go back to. So why not? Take it as me being sorry for destroying your house as well. Deal?” He put out his hand to give you a shake.

You laughed nervously. “And what is it in for me…?”

”You… get to live in the same house as Ken Sato?”

”Nice, yay,” you said flatly. You rolled your eyes. “No.”

“Oh come on,” he groaned. “I feel bad.”

”There’s no need for you to feel bad, okay. I put that behind me, whatever.” You threw your hands in the air. “I’m going, bye.” You turned around, ready to leave.

”I’ll give you my autograph, as many as you’d like,” he quickly chipped in. “Signed possession, whatever you want.” He grinned in satisfaction as he saw you stop in your tracks and you quickly turned around. “It sells. A lot.”

”Hmm…” You seemed to consider it before you shook your head. “Your reputation lately isn’t the best so to sell them might be a bit hard…” You trailed off, clearly more of an effort to swat him away since you did think about it.

You couldn’t deny, it was a nice offer. But you were more worried about how you would cope, considering that you may have found him slightly attractive…

“I’m sure dad would be happy for you to stay here as well?”

You gritted your teeth. First time meeting him in real life and he already knew your weakness. He knew that using his father’s name would cause you to waver.

Still, you held on to your decision.

“No-”

He blinked slowly, and you heard the baby Kaiju stir in her sleep.

You ran your eyes towards the Kaiju before sighing. There was one thing you were interested in.

No, not the man in front of you.

You walked over to the enclosure. “How is she with strangers?”

Kenji popped up beside you before winking. “If I say the stranger is a friend, you’ll be glad to have her around.”

You took a moment to think, weighing the pros and cons. “Full privacy? Separate bathrooms?”

He scratched the nape of his neck. “Well, there is one separate bathroom for the guests but the shower’s faulty.” Something dawned on his face as he just realised this. “The only working shower is in, uh, my room.”

You stared back at him. “So there is a chance I might run into you naked?”

“I’ll preserve my dignity.” He paused. “You know what, take my room. I can use the guest room.”

You chuckled, taking his hand in a forced handshake. “Fine, deal.”

He looked surprised, but trailed after you as both of you took the ride up. “Wait, what was the dealbreaker? Because of the Kaiju? The room? The-” he looked at you almost accusingly. “-chance of seeing the Ken Sato naked-”

“Shh-” you clamped a hand over his mouth in an attempt to silence him just as the entrance pried open, revealing a smiling Professor Sato.

“Dad,” Ken said in a muffled voice, and you pulled back from covering his mouth. “Dad,” he tried again. “She agreed to staying here.”

You looked at the professor from the corner of your eyes. So it was his doing. You wondered what the father had held over his son’s head to make him obey.

“Can I retire for the night?” You did an exaggerated show of stretching. “I’m becoming delirious from the lack of sleep.”

“Room’s to your right,” Ken offered.

“Make sure to lock the door,” Mina reminded you.

“Mina,” Ken groaned. “What are you implying?”

“Just general safety measures. Ken-” she hovered near the baseball player, “-are you okay? Your heartbeat is increasing-”

He groaned. “I’m fine, Mina. I’ll be using the guest room.”

Both of you went separate ways, leaving Professor Sato and Mina in the living room.

Professor Sato whispered, “Mina, status report on the project.”

Mina obediently replied, “Matchmaking project is showing positive progress. We can expect to see rapid progress in the next few weeks.”

***

Training and taking care of the baby Kaiju - which the professor had named Emi - was no easy feat. Contributed by your almost non-existent stamina, you were left cheering from the sides as mostly Ken and Emi did all kinds of simulation to train her. Dealing with a 20-feet monster was not on your bucket list, but you had proudly ticked it off mentally.

You heard whooping from the two and you held onto your bottle as the ground shook when Emi jumped up and down. Subconsciously, you smiled as you saw Ken cheering for the baby, and he almost got crushed when Emi gave his human form a high-five.

You quietly went up the lift as Ken was fussing over Emi to make her go to sleep. You plopped down on the sofa, switched on the TV and to no surprise, his name decorated the evening news.

Ken Sato showing good progress…

Ken Sato showing a more mature side…

Ken Sato helping the Giants to pick themselves back up…

“I definitely look better in person,” Ken’s voice came from behind and you could feel his presence near you. “May I?” He asked for permission to sit beside you but both of you knew the answer as he plopped down right next to you.

You see, these are the small things that could make you wonder whether he’s doing it on purpose or he really had no idea how they affected you.

You gulped when you could feel his knee bumping against yours, or when he casually put his arm on the back of the sofa across your shoulders. There was no contact but there might as well be something because you felt like your heart would jump right out.

Your romantic encounter with a guy was only as far as a guy who called you a creep because you were following him. That day, you were navigating the world half-blind because you broke your glasses and it seemed that he was going to your destination. Sure, you admitted that it was your fault and you apologised profusely, but that made you avoid taking the train for at least two weeks.

You got startled when Ken pressed a cold can on your cheek. The corner of your eyes caught the words ‘COCONUT WATER’. Remembering how Mina had essentially pestered Ken to drink coconut water as a ‘healthy option’, you smiled. Mina had also reminded Ken multiple times that because you didn’t drink, never, ever offer you a can of beer.

”Nah,” you refuted. “You look better on screen.” You imitated taking a camera shot of his face before chiding. “Up near you’re just…” You trailed off.

”Just what?” He asked, prying open his can of coconut water. Without asking, he took yours before helping to open it up for you.

This. These small gestures were what convinced you that you were turning crazy.

”Ugly,” you supplemented.

”Hey, play nice,” he tapped the opened can on your cheek before shoving it into your hand.

You chuckled, taking a gulp of the drink before both of you basked in silence. To him, it was a comfortable silence but to you, you were currently hoping that your heartbeat would just… stop.

You thought that maybe spending time and living together with Ken Sato would further confirm that you hated his guts, but so far, you were only getting the opposite effect. You were sure there was some character development somewhere… from that first moment he destroyed your house to that moment you met him again as he was cradling Emi.

You hated this growing feeling you had towards him and it’s so painfully obvious what Professor Sato (and Mina) were planning on doing to both of you.

The worst part was it seemed like it’s either: 1. Ken was too oblivious, or 2. He knew, but didn’t want to entertain the thought.

Was it a better idea to just leave? They did say your house would be finished being rebuilt in a few days.

”So…” you croaked. “My house will be done in a few days so I think it’s better for me to start packing.” You stole a glance at him. Now… Why am I hoping that he would stop me?

A flicker of disappointment behind his eyes but he was quick to switch it off. “Sure,” he rubbed his nose. “If… that’s what you want.”

You pursed your lips. This stupid erratic heartbeat wouldn’t stop and you hated that you didn’t know what to do with it. “I’ll… start packing then.” You took another peek at him. He wasn’t looking at you.

You stood up, but he stopped you. Your heart was making its way out of your ribcage for beating too loud, but it slowed down when he uttered, “Hey, don’t forget your coconut water."

You looked at him with an ‘Are you serious?’ look before taking it, not once unlocking your stare from his and standing up, finished the drink in one gulp. You crushed the can, and threw it in one shot towards the dustbin.

”Oh, okay.” He looked surprised by your reaction.

You stalked your way to the bedroom and closed the door. Sighing exasperatedly, you pressed your back against the door and slid down. You buried your face in your hands before lightly hitting your head with a fist. You felt bad for reacting that way but you found it harder to deny the feeling when you were so confident that you would manage to resist.

Outside in the living area, Ken looked troubled, his forehead wrinkling when he tried backtracking what he did. He turned to look over his shoulder as the spherical robot hovered near him, and he threw his head back.

”What is it, Mina? Are you here to chide me again?”

”In these kinds of situations, the woman is usually hoping the man would stop her from leaving,” Mina said.

”Mina,” he pleaded.

”I believe a misunderstanding had happened,” she offered again, to which he appeared confused. “Please, do look at the screen.”

Ken’s eyes travelled to the projection Mina made. He looked even more confused as one of his solo interviews was displayed. He looked inquiringly at Mina, before the latter sweeped her robotic hands to ask him to focus on the interview.

It was an interview he did some time last week. His face changed when he started catching on what Mina was trying to show.

“So your name has become the talk of the town again for a good reason now.” The interviewer paused for effect. “This is a question that I’m sure everyone has thought of at least once when we’re talking about Ken Sato.” The interviewer looked at him. “Do you have anyone you’re interested in or at least, someone you have set your eyes on?”

Ken’s response was immediate as he laughed and shook his head. “No, no. Not right now.” He leaned back, a relaxed stance as he waved his hand in front of his face. “Right now I’m only focusing on my baseball career. Still got a long way to go. I don’t want to waste my time on something so unimportant.”

The interviewer turned back to the screen. “You’ve heard it directly from the man, folks. He’s-“

Mina switched off the replay while Ken looked regretful.

Exasperated, he said, “Mina, you know I don’t mean it that way.”

“I believe you should be clarifying that with Y/N herself and not me. She is the subject of your affection.”

“Affection-” he mulled over the word. “Do you really think so, Mina? Is this what this…” He put a hand over his chest. “Foreign feeling is?”

“From my observation,” Mina replied as she stayed close to Ken’s shoulder. “Your expression becomes livelier, your smile becomes wider and your eyes twinkle more whenever she is around. Now,” she paused, “you do have that same reaction whenever you’re with Emi. However, I do sense your heartbeat increasing every time you’re with Y/N. I believe this is what they would call a romantic attraction.”

“So in short,” he sighed, “I like her but I’m saying the opposite thing? But-” he almost grabbed Mina to ask her more, “how would I know if she feels the same way? I- I don’t think I can handle rejection from her. Do you sense anything from her?”

There was a silence as Mina backed up, making way towards her room. “I believe that is not a question for me to answer, Ken. Why don’t you sort it out with her?”

Ken looked at the door of the room you’re in, gathering the courage to make his way. He stopped in front of the door, he shook his hands, breathing in and out as his mind reeled with all sorts of apologies and words to offer to you.

He raised his hand to knock on the door, and at the same time you swung open the door, causing him to knock a fist on your forehead.

So much for Ultraman reflexes.

“Oh my God, I’m so sorry!” Ken shouted, automatically cupping your face to see the damage he’d done. “Are you- are you okay?”

You blinked, everything happening at once too much for you. He knocked on your door, you happened to open it at the same time and now he’s-

“I’m… fine. Can you…” you tapped your palm on his hand. “...let go?”

“Oh, right. Sorry,” he let go as he laughed nervously. “Reflexes fail you at times like these, right?” His face fell as he saw you avoiding his gaze. “Hey. Can we talk?”

You looked up, finally looking at him. “Yeah?”

He exhaled. “Like, properly.”

“Have we not been communicating properly?”

Mina suddenly appeared beside both of you. “I apologise for having to interrupt but yes, I do observe some miscommunication going on. So if both of you may sort it out.”

Mina’s hands pushed both of you into the room and shut the door.

There were protests from both but they quickly died down before silence stretched. Both of you exchanged glances but not words, and neither had any idea what the other was thinking of.

All the apologies and words Ken was thinking of offering to you went up in a cloud of smoke. Instead, he asked the one thing he wished he could take back. “So when are you planning to leave?” Dang it, Ken.

Your face contorted, obviously offended. “As soon as I can. Don’t worry,” you walked over to the bed, shoved your clothes into your duffel bag and zipped it up. “I wanted to tell you that I finished packing.”

”You’re leaving tonight?” This time around, he didn’t hide his disappointment. Why, why is it so hard for him to ask you to stay? To tell you what he really feels?

Sure, he couldn’t deny that his attitude came from growing up mostly without his father around. He had grown up with this wall built around him as a defensive mechanism. He found it hard to communicate with others, to explain what he really was feeling.

He pressed his lips into a thin line. He figured it was best to let the feeling die down. You’d be better off with someone else anyway.

”Just tell me when you want to leave,” he finally uttered. “I’ll open the door for you.”

You gritted your teeth and only nodded.

He turned around and shut the door. Mina and his father were outside, the latter having a worried look on his face.

”Kenji,” Professor Sato uttered.

”I want to be alone, dad,” he mentioned. “Mina,” he turned to the supercomputer, “just make sure she gets to where she wants to go safely.”

As Ken shut the door, Professor Sato turned to Mina, to which he uttered, “I trust this is not the time to ask about the progress.”

Mina answered. “Yes, Professor. I believe we may have hit a wall.”

***

You decided to leave early in the morning and with only a note, saying that you’d like to have some time off. Mina was kind enough to open the door for you, but when she asked whether you’d like to have Ken and Professor Sato see you off, you shook your head vigorously.

”Mina, tell them I’m going somewhere nice for a vacation.” You winked, but it was obvious that you were trying to hide something from breaking. “They better not look for me.”

Mina paused, as if she’s using her electronic brain to figure a way to stop you. “Kenji has a reason for acting that way.” A pause. “Though I am merely a robot with little to no experience in romantic relationships.”

You chuckled. “Thank you, Mina. Really, all of you were so kind to me. It’s just that,” you sighed, “I understand why he’d act that way. He has a whole career to look forward to. Adoring fans. He can’t be wasting-“ you gulped, the words bitter on your mouth, “-time on something so insignificant. I shall take my leave.”

”Y/N,” she uttered. “If I may ask one last question before you leave?”

You tilted your head. “Sure, Mina. What is it?”

“Were my calculations wrong about what you’re feeling?”

”And that is?”

”You hated him at first, but that hate has turned into something more… lovely."

You couldn’t help but smile. “It’s so obvious isn’t it?” You crinkled your nose. “I better take my leave before the three of them wake up.”

That was the last you saw all four of them - Professor Sato, Ken, Mina and Emi. That was what… a week ago?

Now you’re sitting, slumped in your bean bag as you groaned, bored out of your mind. Nice vacation, my ass. If that means reading the same books over and over again, surfing the web and watching the same TV shows while being cooped up in your house, you’re definitely having a nice vacation.

Even then, you found it hard to avoid that person. He was literally everywhere.

You switched off the TV, stretched, before something gigantic shook the whole city. Your eyes went wide as you realised that there was a possibility of another attack. Without much thought, you pushed up your glasses and took a glance through your apartment window.

There they are.

You saw both Ultraman and Emi traversing the landscape. You turned around to leave your apartment, but stopped as you heard sharp chirpings.

Emi was hovering near your window and you laughed, amazed at the sight in front of you. “Emi, you grew wings! You can fly now!”

The baby Kaiju smiled at you, seemingly proud that she could finally set off from the ground.

”Emi, come on.” You heard the one voice that could shatter your resolve then and there.

You tried to close the window, had enough, but the hero stopped you from shutting the window.

“Ow,” he complained, flapping his hand. Ken quickly stopped you from leaving as he said, “Look, I’ve been a jerk and-“ a loud boom resonated through the whole city, “-I want to start over.”

You sucked in your lower lip, mulling over his sentence. You lifted up your eyebrows as if to say, ‘Really, right now?’

He nodded. “I’m sorry. I like you, okay? But I didn’t know how to say it. Or maybe I was just afraid of rejection.”

You tried to keep a straight face but failed; you didn’t expect to hear a confession from Ultraman. You cleared your throat as you looked away. “Become a hero, save the day and then say all of that again,” your voice dropped to a whisper, as if anyone could hear you, “as Ken Sato.”

You’re not sure whether it was possible, but his eyes lit up brighter as he nodded. He started a light jog to launch himself before shouting, “Wait for me!” He disappeared in a twinkle in the night sky.

With your best guess, you assumed the fight must be going on between them and the KDF. Knowing that you’d be anxious waiting to see the results of the fight, you grabbed your jacket, set off into the night and tried searching a vantage point where you’d be able to at least get a view of what’s happening.

You found a spot and narrowed your eyes as you tried to get an idea of where the two of them stood. Emi… Ultraman… Is that Gigantron?

You became confused as you remembered clearly Professor Sato claiming that the most magnificent creature on Earth had died. What the hell is going on?

You gripped the railing of the bridge you were on, the fight getting further and further away from you. You watched the fight unfold… breath battered as you were silently cheering them on. You gasped as another figure launched himself into the fight.

”Professor,” you muttered to yourself. “Please, please be safe.”

The fight was a distant chaos, you could barely see what was going on. You gritted your teeth as you waited for the final call, but dropped to your knees as you realised what was going on.

”No, no, no. Ken…"

You saw the shield. Ken underneath the shield, the explosion that should have been loud, but was muffled inside the enclosure Ken had made before blinding light filled the atmosphere.

Tears filled up your vision as you saw the giant hero collapse into the sea.

***

You stared blankly at the unmoving body in front of you, while another person was strategically standing near the exit. You looked over your shoulder as you felt a light, reassuring tap.

Professor Sato wanted to offer some words of reassurance, but you merely shook your head. He let out a heavy breath, saying, “I’ll leave the two of you alone. I'll continue working on restoring Mina.”

”Thanks,” you sniffled. “Professor.”

Apparently on the day the fight happened, Mina was caught in the frenzy and was almost shut down, while the secret base was partially destroyed. Now the Professor was working on recovering Mina, while Ken…

You sighed, looking at the patient in front of you.

Nothing to worry about, actually. Despite the quick thinking of Ultraman in front of you throwing himself over the bomb, he actually managed to escape with just a broken arm. He’s not dead, Ken Sato was still here, recovering.

But what annoyed you was that it seemed every time you came to visit, he would pretend to be asleep. Not even stirring, obviously faking sleep to avoid talking to you.

So what, all that confession was for naught? Just an adrenaline rush from becoming the hero?

This time around though, it did seem like he was fast asleep. His chest was rising and falling steadily. His hair was messy, and you resisted the urge to tidy it up.

”You jerk,” you grumbled. “I was so worried for you, but… you’re really planning on leaving me hanging like this?”

”Y/N…”

You stopped grumbling to yourself as you heard the man in front of you mumbling your name. You leaned forward, curious to hear what he got to say.

”You look so…” he continued, eyes still shut.

You strained your ears to catch more.

”I like you…”

You pressed your lips together before punching his unhurt shoulder, almost too hard.

He gasped, sat up straighter, taking in big gulps of air as his irises move frantically to search for the source of the punch.

”Who-“ he blinked. “Y/N?”

”In the flesh,” you deadpanned.

”What are you-“

”I told you,” you interjected. “Tell it to my face as Ken Sato.”

He looked guilty for a moment, and you leaned back in your chair.

”You’re going to say it was a mistake, aren’t you?” You asked, clearly exasperated.

”No, it wasn’t a mistake!” He quickly said, searching for your eyes. “After the fight that day I felt like being a hero means that there was a possibility I would just-” he imitated an explosion, “disappear.”

You grabbed his collar. “If you know that even any single day you have a possibility of disappearing, that your life is short, then-” the grip around his collar became tighter, “-it means that you have to grab every opportunity as soon as you can. That includes confessing to someone you like.” You threw your hands up in frustration and stood up, pacing back and forth. “God! Why are relationships so complicated? And why am I so, so, so stupid?”

You buried your face in your hands.

“I don’t know,” you said, tears pooling in your eyes. “When you said you didn’t have any interest in anyone, and that you didn’t want to waste your time on something so insignificant. Hearing that, I just-” you sighed. “-thought that the answer was so obvious. You have your priorities straight.”

“Y/N-” he stopped you by touching your arm lightly, pulling you over to sit beside him. “That was-” He winced as he felt pain shooting up his arm. He tried again, “That was what I’d usually say in interviews before this, because baseball was the only thing that put a smile on my face. But now…” He took your hand, caressing it. “You came and it was just one, big confusion for me. You are the only person who has managed to,” he chuckled, “cause the Ken Sato to waver. It was a foreign feeling for me."

“Idiot…” you mumbled.

He pulled you closer with his good arm, and obviously inexperienced, you shut your eyes tight as you felt him softly breathing against your cheek. Of course, you thought he’d go for a kiss on your lips, but you heard him chuckle before he pressed a light one on your cheek. You opened your eyes and he was grinning.

He thought you looked adorable.

“What was that?” you asked flatly.

“A kiss?” he said, unsure of what exactly you were implying.

“Uh-uh.”

You grabbed his face, and he looked surprised as you leaned in to kiss him on the lips. Your glasses were in the way so you took them off, and you felt his arm snaking around your waist to hold you firmly in place.

In the heat of the moment and flurry of emotions, you found yourself pinned under him, his good arm caging you. He kissed you again, but this time around you felt your heart beating so loud you had to place your palms against his chest to slightly push him away.

“Ken,” you warned him. “We’re in the hospital.”

He blinked, feigning innocence. “Really? I had no idea.” He traced a finger on your cheek, wiping away the traces of your tears. He pinched your cheek as he said, “The doctor told me that I’m good to be discharged tomorrow.”

Suddenly conscious of how you’re pinned under him, you looked away. “That’s good. You can go back home in no time.”

He tapped a finger on your chin, causing you to look back at him. “My house is still under repair, remember? I’m essentially homeless.”

“You can live with your dad-“

“Take the hint, sweetheart.” He kissed your forehead before collapsing beside you, both of you cramped on the small hospital bed.

You thought about how you had never, ever brought a guy home. And now Ken wanted to…?

“I’ll think about it,” you said.

He smiled, squeezing your shoulders as you buried your face in his chest. “Can I ask just one… question?”

“Sure, shoot.”

“What was the dealbreaker, really? The one that made you agree to stay at the secret base?”

“You really want to know?”

“Of course.”

This time, you didn’t even hesitate. “The chance to see the Ken Sato naked of course.”

“Damn it. I knew that was the reason.”

#ken sato #kenji sato #ultraman #ultraman rising #ken sato x reader #kenji sato x reader #ken sato x you #x reader #kenji sato x you #ken sato x y/n #wr: mine

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accioscarheadthings · 6 months ago

Text

ULTRAMINE ~ CHAPTER 1

kenji sato x reader

summary: you are professor sato's student and mina contacts you when kenji finds himself with an injured kaiju baby

pairings: kenji sato x fem!student!reader

author's note: turning this into a series (?) may not follow the movie's timeline completely. future smut, so minors DNI.

masterlist !

you stood beside professor sato in the tube lift as it descended to kenji's basement.

you fiddled with the ends of your shirt, anxiety beginning to spiral within you by the second.

being at kenji’ house was something you never imagined would happen, especially after your not-so-smart first date.

like kenji, you also had a legacy to bear, with your father as an expert mechanic, he built a titanium-alloyed suit with sato to fight by his side. and with him gone, you had to take on the mantle and the responsibility of protecting the city.

kenji knew you as his father’s student, slightly bitter that his father was spending time with someone who was not him.

but he couldn’t deny, you were a sight for sore eyes.

he would throw his words at you now and then, relishing in your sarcasm and remarks, falling more and more for your fiery demeanour and silver tongue.

and with you both fighting kaiju attacks together, it only pulled you closer to each other.

the baseball player won a bet against you, asking for just one date with you.

you were skeptical about it, not wanting to get tangled in his spider web of messy celebrity life. but you couldn’t back off from the bet. a deal was a deal.

the date went surprisingly well, with you and kenji bickering back and forth about the most mundane things, just to get a rise out of the other. but as time went by, the sexual tension was increasing between you two.

you couldn’t deny it, no matter how much he annoyed you with his bratty charm. he was hot.

the date was supposed to end with him dropping you in your place, but instead, you found yourself in his arms in the back of his car- naked, needy, and moaning his name like a prayer.

after that, he took you into your apartment and fucked you good, mumbling praises and promises as he drilled into you. the next morning, he left before you woke up, leaving a note saying that last night was fun.

no calls or messages after that. he merely acknowledged your presence after that.and you were thankful for it. a bit.

part of you wished he would reach out and check in on you after that night. but you knew he wouldn’t.

it made you feel used and unwanted. took you quite a while to get over it, but you eventually did.

you only took care of the fights he didn’t pay mind to. like the kaiju attack he ditched when the kdf intervened.

and now with the doom of meeting him again, your nerves were on end.

“fret not, dear,” professor sato glanced at your tensed state, “it will be alright.”

"professor, um, you still haven't told me why we’re at your son’s place. or what we're gonna do. or why you needed me out of all people-”

"i just need you to trust me on this, dear. you're the only one i do at this moment. can you do that for me?"

"you know i'm big on trust, professor, " i commented, shaking my head.

the lift stopped, and professor smiled, "that i do,"

when the lift doors opened, ultramn’s face was right on, big glowing eyes.

you took a step back with a yelp, “what the-"

"oh my-" ultraman gasped, “y/n… hi,” he seemed to be dazed, breathless.

you nodded nervously, glaring at his metal head and glowing eyes, glad that you didn't have to look at his handsome face, “hi,”

“dad! what is she doing here?” kenji hollered, as if you were invisible.

you glared at him even harder, tilting your head to the side at his tone.

"i apologize for my son," professor told you, "kenji, this is my assistant and she knows best about kaiju infants,"

i added, "because i've studied about them.my entire life. what they eat, their life cycle, the metamorph-"

"okay, okay, got it yeah," he waved you off in a hurry, his voice laced with impatience and worry.

you were about to snap when a pained squeal rang out and you leaned past him to sneak a peak, but ultraman obscured your view.

“dad, i’m not asking for pain, complaints, guilt, or criticism. not right now. i just-” he paused, struggling, “i need your help. both of you,” his head turned to you.

when he moved out of the way, you saw it, a gasp escaping your lips .

a baby kaiju lying on its back in the middle of the room, its head resting on ultraman’s knees while he held it down, rubbing its head. a red beam blinked under its skin, signaling its distress.

"wow," you gaped at the kaiju baby, following after professor sato.

“she was hurt, dad. we were attacked, i don’t know what to do. she got loose. i-i should’ve been there,” kenji rambled, guilt evident as he beat him up for what happened.

professor sato examined her, running a hand over a scales, “incredible,”

i held out my fist, metal plates slipping over your fingers and crawling up your arm till your elbow. you held out a hand, shooting a scanning bean from your fist to examine.

“you brought your warsuit?” ultraman asked in wonder. he knew about your identity and was hoping he’d run into you in one of the fights.

“just in case,” you shrugged, eyes on the anatomy chart you had pulled up in front of you as the holograph blinked on the arm of the kaiju, indicating the site of injury.

meanwhile, professor sato ran a chem analysis of the tranquilizer that had hit her.

"oh, hello mina," you greeted the ai when it floated towards you, “it’s been a long time,”

"indeed," mina responded, "you look well,"

"thanks,"

the kaiju baby whined in pain, squirming. you rested your metal palm on its tummy, easing your way up and down on its body, "shh, hey, hey- it's okay, we're gonna help you, baby, mkay?” you cooed.

the kaiju baby seemed to somewhat calm down at your words, its body still trembling.

“is it a he or she?” you asked, tapping and prodding her arm juncture.

“a she,” mina responded.

"she's beautiful," you looked up at her in awe, “professor, i suppose she has fracture. there’s fluid build-up in her elbow. mina, can u confirm?,”

“yes, she had a mid-humeral fracture with associated hematoma,” mina added.

the kaiju baby cried out again.

“it’s okay, you’re okay,” professor sato uttered softly caressing her arm.

mina was filling in the professor about the analysis of the tranquilizer while you got a closer look at the baby, running your metal hand over her palm.

her fist closed around your hand, the kaiju baby cooing slightly. your heart melted at the action.

“poor thing. does it hurt too much?” you reached to touch her arm where she got hurt, only for her to squeal in alarm.

“it’s okay,” kenji soothed, “she’s-” he stammered, looking at you now fully and taking in your appearance and feeling somewhat flustered, “she’s not gonna hurt you,”

you spared a glance at him, turning away, your face turning red at the mere sound of his voice. pathetic, you scolded yourself.

“can you synthesize a 100 ccs?” professor sato asked mina.

“yes, professor,”

“good we’ll need more,”

“more?!” kenji snapped, “for what?”

“kenji,” “you may not agree with me on anything else, but right now, i’m the best chance she has. and with y/n, it will be easier. so please, please just let me help,”

kenji glanced at you, agreeing, “okay,”

professor sato held up a ragged bunny in the air. the kaiju baby beamed at it.

“dad,” kenjis sighed in nostalgia, “bunny?”

“it always worked on you,” he placed it on the baby’s arm. he notched his walking stick between her shouler and arm, making sure it was right. i nodded in approval.

i placed my hand on the kaju baby’s palm, “hold her tight, kenji,”

two mechanical arms appeared from the ground, grabbing onto the baby’s arms.

taking a deep breath, you mumbled along with the lullaby mina played in the back and pushed her dislocated bone into place. kenji turned his head away to the side, unable to watch while the kaiju baby screeched in pain.

you sat by the stairs of the containment unit as the kaiju baby slept in it, snuggling a half-crushed car.

you were watching the footage of the kaiju baby loose in the streets, observing its movement, behaviour—

“hey,”

you slapped your watch shut and looked up at kenji, blinking, “hi,”

your eyes locked for a moment longer adn you both looked away, feeling bashful and flustered.

you felt him sit on the stair beside you and rest his elbows on his knees, fiddling with his fingers nervously.

“so, uh, how are ya?” kenji turned to face you, his hair falling all over his forehead.

you bit back the urge to brush them back, “fine. so how’s life being a single mom with two jobs?” you teased, hoping to ease the tension.

kenji gave a small smile, his chest rumbling with a groan, “exhausting,”

“i can tell,” you noticed the fading dark circles under his eyes, the fatigue in the paleness of his skin.

“watching me that closely, sweetheart?” he tipped his head to the side, leaning forward a bit, his flirty tone showing up.

“you wish,” you rolled your eyes at him.

“it’s good to see you,” kenji spoke genuinely, “after the last time we met turned into-”

“oh dear god-” you sputtered, “don’t just don’t,”

“was it that bad?” he seemed offended that you were shutting out that incident so quickly, “was i that bad?”

“no, no, ken,” i laughed carelessly, missing the way a shy smile crept up kenji’s face at your sound, “its just that,” you tried to find the right words, “it was amazing, but the days after that, not so much. we-”

“-drifted apart,” kenji completed, understanding now.

"yeah,"

“i’ll just,” kenji jabbed his thumb to the couch area and walked towards it, muttering and scolding himself for being so clumsy and flustered around you.

you smiled at his back, watching him sit down. you turned back towards the containment unit, watching the kaiju baby snore away.

you crossed your legs, getting comfortable, "mina?"

"yes?" the ai floated towards you.

"give me everything you have on the kaiju baby. and you might wanna get filled in on the kaiju anatomy and life cycle info i have in my database," you held up your watch for her.

“sure thing,” a mechanical arm took it from you.

"and also, could i get a cup of coffee, with three-,"

a cup was thrust beside your face to hold.

you looked up and saw kenji holding one for you, having one for himself, “three shots of espresso. just how you like it,”

surprised but touched, you accepted it with a kind nod, watching him walk back to his father.

he relaxed back, leaning into the couch and spreading his legs apart shamelessly, one arm resting on the head of the couch.

you lips parted at the sight.

kenji did a double take and caught you staring, a grin quirking his lips as he did so. it only widened as he saw how you fumbled and turned away from him, finding your reaction adorable.

he couldn't believe how captivating you were, and he knew he was in danger of losing himself to your charm.

the way your hair draped over your shoulder, only if he could wrap his fist around them and pull you flush against his back-

“pure thoughts, ken. pure thoughts,” he chided himself, his mind struggling to process the mental image it created.

he silently chastised himself for letting you slip through his fingers last time, but he knew that he couldn't ignore you any longer.

as he looked at you, he felt his heart skip a beat and he couldn't help but sigh, "sweetheart..." knowing that you were too tempting for him to resist this time.

#ken sato #ultraman #emi ultraman #ken sato x reader #kenji sato x reader #kenji sato #ultraman rising #ultraman rising x reader

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ichorai · 1 year ago

Text

wool ; coriolanus snow.

pairing ; young!coriolanus snow x capitol!reader (gender-neutral)

synopsis ; when you laughed, airy and light and reminiscent to that of wind chimes, coryo wished he could bottle up the sound and keep it as his, only his.

words ; 1.5k

themes ; mild fluff/angst, slightly suggestive

warnings / includes ; set before events of tbosas so no actual spoilers, making out, clemensia appearance, mentions of other characters, coryo's paranoia, he's not exactly toxic yet but the seeds are very much planted, i tried to keep him in character as best i could, let's pretend the academy also serves dinner

a/n ; this man has consumed me body and soul. this fic was inspired by the song wool by flatland cavalry on the movie soundtrack! let me know if you guys would like a second part :)

series masterlist. main masterlist.

Coriolanus Snow was a wolf in sheep’s clothing. He bore an aristocratic last name—yet you noticed that his dress shirt’s buttons seemed to be various different shades of black and slightly misshapen. His voice, so sweetly saccharine, charming, seductive—would whisper falsities like it was second nature. He would often claim that he wasn’t hungry, but you’d catch the longing glint in his pale irises as he eyed the steaming bread rolls Sejanus slathered with generous helpings of butter.

Control. That was all he needed.

It crumbled, ever so slightly, when you nudged your slice of apple pie in his direction. His eye twitched, and you pursed your lips, pulling your plate back to you. You ate quietly, and Coryo stared at you all the while, as if he were mentally dissecting your mind—studying you.

You knew. It was all too clear, even if he wouldn’t tell you. And if he wouldn’t tell his closest friend—or, the closest thing he had to a friend, the two of you certainly did things that friends wouldn’t do—he most definitely wouldn’t let it slip that he was financially strapped to anyone else.

That same day, he met you in the back of the library. The two of you were supposed to be studying history—Professor Demigloss was one of the nicer teachers at the academy, but that didn’t mean he was any less strict with grades. And neither you nor Coryo could afford slipping now. Not if you both wanted to get into university. Being on top meant that there was only greater distance to fall.

But there were… distractions.

Mainly, his foot knocking against yours under the table. Your hand over his jostling knee. His teeth digging into his bottom lip. When you shifted so that your thighs brushed against his, the books spread out over the table were entirely forgotten.

He pushed you against the bookshelves a mere second later, the wood digging into your back uncomfortably, and kissed you until you grew dizzy. You were a welcome distraction—he could taste the apples on your tongue. The way you snaked your arms around his neck, toying with his pale blonde curls, pulling him closer until his body slotted against yours just perfectly—clicking into place like a pair of magnets facing opposite directions. It was desperate and heavy and he could only barely pull away to inhale sharply before cradling the base of your head to tilt your jaw back and kiss you even harder. Coryo swallowed any muffled whimpers that slipped from you when his free hand traveled lower.

Lower, lower, dangerously low—

When Clemensia’s voice echoed through the library in search of her lab partner, the two of you sprang apart, gasping for air.

She rounded the bend, and her dark eyes landed on the two of you. Keen, observant, narrowed. Coriolanus was flushed, hair mussed, lips swollen, chest rising and falling erratically. You were looking anywhere but the two of them, smoothing out your clothes and wiping your mouth with the back of your hand.

“Oh! I guess I’ll just have to find another time to bother you, Coriolanus,” she tittered, sickly sweet. She tilted her head with a tempered smile. “What’re you guys studying?”

Snow rolled his eyes in exasperation. “History,” he said. Curt, simple.

“Right.” She eyed you curiously. When she spoke again, it was directed more to you than him, sounding uncharacteristically void of frigid scorn. “I’d be careful if I were you. You sure he’s not just sleeping with you because you’re the top of the class?”

You stiffened, and Coryo bristled.

“I’ll be fine, Clem. See you tomorrow.”

There was another beat of terse silence. Her eyes darted warily between the two of you, and she whisked away in a flutter of red and black.

You blew out a breath. Your mouth tingled with the phantom memory of his lips planted over yours, and your cheeks flushed with heat. The two of you sat back down, both quiet. You worked in fluid tandem with each other, as you always did. His hands kept to himself this time.

“I’m not using you,” he whispered, eventually. “It’s not like that.”

“I know,” you replied hesitantly, testing the waters. “It’s not like you’d need to. Your grades are just fine as is.”

The two of you kept working until your fingers cramped with overuse and his head pulsed with the beginnings of a migraine.

“Dinner?” you asked once the clock struck six, nudging him. “I think they’ll be serving mashed potatoes today.”

His stomach clenched at the thought of warm food. Control.

“Sure,” he replied coolly, flicking his books closed and gathering up all the papers to stuff into his bag. “I’m sick of mashed potatoes, though.”

You shot him an incredulous smile, brows quirking up. He was lying, but you didn’t know. “Not even when it’s seasoned with roasted garlic? A dash of the freshest of herbs?”

The blue of his eyes gleamed when they bore into yours. “Not even then.”

“You’re a strange man, Coriolanus Snow.” Your lips twisted downward, but it was more of a smile than a frown. When your eyes darted below to glance at his school uniform, you couldn’t help but notice the unironed creases in the carmine fabric. One of the buttons—the very top one—was oddly shaped and a different color from all the rest. It reminded you of his dress shirt. You quite liked that dress shirt. He looked handsome in it, but you chalked it up to his uncanny ability to look handsome in just about anything.

Your head tilted to the side, molten eyes fixed on the button. You knew. He knew that you knew. Panic seized in his chest, an irrational clawing sensation searing within his lungs. Would you tell the rest of the class? What would you say to them? That he was living as filthily as a District boy? That he skipped meals because he couldn’t afford them? That his cousin mended his clothes for him?

But your frown-smile deepened. Fondness stained your expression, clear as day. Coriolanus found himself surprised, as he often did around you.

“I love your buttons, by the way,” you mumbled, reaching out to trace it with a finger. He held his breath on instinct. “Is it a stylistic choice? Having them all irregular like this?”

Stylistic. Coriolanus almost laughed.

“Mhm. It’ll be in fashion one day. I’m just ahead of the trends,” he murmured charmingly. A bluff.

When you laughed, airy and light and reminiscent to that of wind chimes, Coryo wished he could bottle up the sound and keep it as his, only his.

“Maybe I’ll start wearing mismatched buttons now, too. Rebel against uniformity.” You stood up from your chair as you spoke, not catching the way Coriolanus’ expression faltered momentarily with your last three words. It was a joke, he had to remind himself. Just a joke. “Come on. Let’s go have dinner. I’m starving.”

He jerkily stood up. Grabbed your hand just because he could, fingers folding over your wrist. He could feel your pulse, thumping quicker and quicker. You regarded him curiously. Snow’s remaining spindly hand cradled your face and he stepped closer, intuitive eyes roaming over your face, wondering just how much of you was real. How much of you was lying, just as he was?

His lips fell over yours again. This time, the kiss was sweeter. Slower, more languid. His nose brushed over your cheekbone, warm to the touch. You hummed pleasantly against him, before placing a hand flat over his chest—over the crooked button—and pulled away with a dazed smile. It felt dangerously good that you hadn’t tugged your hand out of his grasp yet. His grip tightened in a near possessive manner.

As the two of you began walking out of the library, Coriolanus couldn’t help but think back to your hyperbole—about how far from starving you truly were. You wouldn’t ever know, not when your family was the very epitome of Capitol wealth. But he was glad he wasn’t the only one lying, for once, even if your lie was merely an inflation of the truth.

After dinner, Coryo worked off the top button of his uniform with repeated tugs to the threads, pulling apart Tigris’ handiwork. He slid it over the table to you, watching the way your countenance softened in endearment. He kissed you again in the dark hallways outside the cafeteria, finding it difficult to get your lips to melt away from your tightly-stretched grin.

He walked home with a mirroring smile and a missing button that night. One less piece of the wolf’s sheeply clothes.

#coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus snow fanfiction #coriolanus snow fluff #coriolanus snow x you #hunger games fanfiction #coriolanus snow drabbles #tbosas fanfiction #tbosas x reader #young!coriolanus snow x reader #young!coriolanus snow #coriolanus snow

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reiderwriter · 7 months ago

Text

💫 Starry-Eyed 💫

Pairing: Porn Star! Spencer Reid x fem! Reader

For the CM Kink Bingo Challenge

Summary: For work experience, you take a job working the cameras on a porn shoot, but after becoming suddenly attracted to a new coworker, you shortly find yourself as a fluffer, the person whose job it is to keep the "talent" aroused between takes.

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI, Porn AU, College AU kinda, exhibitionism, oral sex (f receiving), consensual voyeurism, masturbation (male), blow job, deep throating, messy orgasm.

A/N: Well, look at where we are. I think this actually counts as my first Alternate Universe fic, which is crazy all things considered. I'm really enjoying the Kink Bingo Challenge as it's leading me to so many new ideas for fics!! I hope you all enjoy this one 🥰

Masterlist || Bingo Board

Being a college student still at age 25 meant many things, but mostly, it meant you had friends at many different stages of their lives. Some were fresh out of high school halls, enjoying their first taste of freedom, some were enjoying their first drops of alcohol. Some were giving up alcohol for good and starting families.

Some of them were successful porn stars who'd funded their own start-up porn production company. It certainly was one way to use a film degree. You knew a professor or two who would enjoy her work more than half your syllabus as well.

Candi Rapper had become famous doing cam shows in her first year of college and had gone all-in after graduation. You'd shared a few classes in the early days, before you took a break from college for financial reasons, of course. By the time you'd gone back, she was a big time and now in the position to offer you a job.

“One of my crews is down a cameraman this weekend. If you're open to it, I pay a fair wage?” she'd offed at your weekly brunch.

“Will you be the star?” You joked back with her.

“You wish.”

You took the job, of course, along with a ride from Candi (her name was Kate, but you'd let her pretend) and pulled up on site bright and alert at 7am.

The set was a large mansion - typical, Candi said - and you'd be mostly shooting in the living room - typical, Candi said. You'd had to tell her after her second typical that you were, in fact, an adult and had seen at least one porno before until she cut out pornsplaining everything to you. She introduced you to the key staff and the director, and they got you set up at your camera.

“The shoot today is going to be around 5 hours. You'll be on camera three. The papers in front have your cues and directions. You can have some free time until we start. There's a breakfast spread in the kitchen, help yourself.”

Not one to turn down free food, you bee-lined there and stood awkwardly in line for the coffee with the dozen or so other crew members, eyeing up the take-out pancakes organised across the granite surface.

“Your first time?” An older man asked from behind you, smiling in a friendly manner.

“You can tell?”

“You're thinking about eating the pancakes, and the rest of us are remembering the scene filmed there last weekend," as if on queue, a shiver ran down his spine. "Yeah, we can tell.” You laughed along with the man's joke and finally grabbed your coffee.

Luck just wasn't on your side, though, as you turned and immediately ran into someone immediately sloshing the coffee onto your shirt.

“Oh my god, I am so - I'm so sorry, I need to watch where I'm going.”

You'd run into 6’3” of lanky, awkward male perfection. He looked young, your age or younger most likely, and was fidgeting as he stood, the most obviously uncomfortable person in the building.

Your first thought was “Is he lost?” closely followed by “Can I beg him to get lost in a linen closet somewhere with me?”

He grabbed a handful of tissues from the counter nearby and began attempting to wipe away the coffee you'd spilt down yourself, completely unaware that he was fondling your breasts in his haste to do so.

“Slow down there, tiger, shoot doesn't start for another half hour,” you said, winking at him as you took the tissues from his panicked hands and dried yourself as best you could.

“I know, I memorised the call sheet. Who are you?” His question was blunt, but you weren't taken aback at all, your smile even deepening as you enjoyed his subtle attention.

“I'm Y/N. It's my first time.”

He spluttered, coming up with an answer to that, and you immediately cursed yourself for the slip.

“My first time on set, not my- I'm 25. Not that age determines experience per say but-”

“I'm 22. And my name is Spencer,” he said, grasping your hand and shaking it.

“So, it's your first time on set?” He asked, relaxing more into the conversation as he stepped closer to you, letting the other staff members come and go from the kitchen.

“Yeah. My friend offered me the job, you know Candi?”

He nodded but didn't speak, so you continued.

“She thought the experience would be good for me. And the cash. Gotta put myself through college somehow, and it was this or stripping.”

He laughed, and you felt a flash of warmth in your stomach, a familiar hunger spreading across your lower body. Maybe it was just the atmosphere of the set, but the air was charged with arousal.

“Well, you're certainly attractive enough to do both jobs. I'm sure the camera is going to love you,” he said, sounding so genuine and enthusiastic that you almost felt bad you had to correct him.

“Oh! Oh, no, Spencer, I'm not - I'm, uh, I'm going to be behind the camera. Behind camera number two.”

His face instantly flushed, and you thought you saw a pang of disappointment there for a second, too. The thought of him being disappointed made your skin heat, that he'd been looking forward somehow to watching you get fucked? Your cunt throbbed and suddenly, you found you did wish to display yourself, to let everyone see if it meant that he got to.

“I am so sorry. I didn't - I thought… No, I didn't think, I… I'll shut up now, please excuse me-”

“No, Spencer, wait-”

You tried to call after him, but he sent you an embarrassed smile and walked off in haste, leaving you behind as the director called people to their places.

You were still flushed with arousal as you moved to your station, getting your camera ready for filming. You were distracted even as the scene started, and the female actress came on set, already stripped down to her underwear and touching herself, teasing the camera.

Surprisingly, you found the work easy enough, too busy focusing on the settings and the gaze of the camera to even care about what was going on down the lens. She was moaning and writhing and gasping sure, to the benefit of the cameras, and although strangely intimate, nobody in the room seemed bothered, so neither did you.

Or neither did you until the actual scenario started, and your actress got ‘caught’ doing the dirty by the needy boy next door. You hadn't looked at the call sheet closely enough as Spencer peeped through the door to the bedroom, entering the scene not by accident but as a scripted part of the show.

Your eyes bulged out of your head as you immediately looked down to your prompt sheet to find his name there.

LEAD ACTOR: SPENCER REID

His stage name was scribbled next to that, but you paid it no attention as you steadied your camera again and got to filming seriously again.

The actress had pulled his glasses off and led him to the bed, letting him keep on his sweater vest and tie as she pulled his head between her legs, and he started doing his job.

Even from your view to the side of him, you could tell this wasn't his first time doing that. His tongue spread across the expanse of her heat, first, letting her grind into his face, getting comfortable before he snaked a hand up to her stomach and held her in place for as long as he so desired.

Then, he rolled her clit into his mouth and sucked. The fake moans and whimpers suddenly became real as you saw the sheer skill of his tongue ripple through the woman's body.

You couldn't even be jealous at this point, despite how much you sorely wished that were you on the bed. Surely no girl had resorted to porn out of pure horny desire before, right?

After a while of letting her gasp and moan under his tongue, Spencer's fingers curled inside the other woman as well. The director called cut, and he kept his fingers there, even as they walked him through the next few shots, and instructed him to unzip his pants in the next few clips.

“Shit,” you muttered to yourself as the cameras started rolling again, and he did finally free himself from his tight khakis.

You knew you'd probably sign up for whatever was on offer at this company next to see that gift again. Spencer wasn't an impressive size or girth, nothing so alien or out of the ordinary that it only belonged in porn. It was just that his cock looked so… pretty.

He was an inch or two longer than any man you'd ever been with, you were sure, but his cock seemed to have an air of dignity about it.

You had to stop yourself at that thought. Dignity? Really? You were working part-time on a porn set, and there was suddenly dignity involved?

You rolled your shoulders back and tried to find your earlier unbothered attitude. But with his cock in his hands and his face slick with female arousal, you really couldn't bring yourself to think about anything less than his fingers roughly finger-fucking you.

You tried to close your eyes to it, to be blind, but the wet, sticky sounds only distracted you and you found yourself soon swaying, swaying, swaying until you had to catch yourself before the camera dropped.

With a shout of “yes, baby, yes,” the female star came on his face, sending up a furret of fluids as he just kept diligently stroking his cock, only stopping at the director's final yell of “CUT.”

“Perfect guys, let's get her up and drinking water again. You need to stay hydrated after all that,” he joked, a PA walking over to pass the actress a robe and a bottle of water as she walked off set.

You relaxed for a second, trying to find your quickest route out of the room so you wouldn't have to drool over the man's cock so obviously any more.

“FLUFFER? Where's the fluffer?” The director yelled, looking around for someone who obviously wasn't there yet.

“Well?”

Still, no one arrived to do whatever job they needed doing, and you felt desperate for escape.

“New girl, would you mind?” Some crew member called out from the sidelines, nodding at you.

“Oh, uh, sure,” you said, hoping that whatever job you agreed to would get you far enough from this room and the heat between your legs as possible. You were not a prude, and you would not bolt from your very first film shoot.

“Great, get on the bed and keep the boy company,” the director said before exiting the room.

You were absolutely on board with becoming a prude and bolting the scene as fast as your legs could carry you. Unfortunately, eight people still sat around, monitoring equipment and chatting on their breaks, and so you were forced to comply with the task.

“We meet again,” you greeted the man stiffly as you found him on the bed, an apprehensive, tight smile on his own face.

“You don't have to do this if you're uncomfortable, I can keep myself… occupied.”

You noticed then that his hand was still wrapped around his cock, giving it slow strokes, not enough to tip him over the edge, but just enough to maintain the erection.

“So the fluffer….?”

“Prepares the actors for the next scene? I need to stay- let say in shape.”

His face flushed crimson as your gaze slipped down to his cock in his hand.

“So you want me to-”

“NO. No, I usually only talk to the Fluffers. Look at them, you know?”

You nodded and found yourself suddenly going still, watching his face contort with pleasure as his eyes raked over your chest and legs.

You couldn't help but let your eyes dart south again, and fuck did you wish you hadn't. His spare hand fisted the sheets as he stroked himself gently, practically taunting himself with the light touch.

“You do this often?” you asked, trying to pretend you were open to having a normal conversation even while your brain begged you to climb into his lap and sink down as fast as you could.

“You mean maaturbate or the porn thing?”

“Porn.”

“No. No, I come in for a shoot every few months. One of these shoots tends to fund another semester of my PhD, so-”

Somewhere in the back of your mind, you were impressed by that admission, but your predominate thought was still “shit, shit, shit, shit.”

“That's impressive,” you said, only catching your words as they tripped out of your mouth. “THE PHD! The PhD, I mean not your… penis? Not that it isn’t appealing, or- or-.”

You tried your hardest to use the most clinical word you could, distancing yourself from the honeyed words you so wanted to drop in his ear to get him to crawl further up the bed and entice him to make his own scene with you.

“Thank you. It's my third,” he said, slightly more relaxed now that you were the flustered one.

“PhD that is. Not cock. I only have one of these.”

“One is enough,” you say, unable to stop the words tumbling out as your eyes again find themselves following each pump of his hand up and down his cock. Inwardly, you curse your friend for starting up her stupid business and paying you to simply exist in the same hemisphere as this man without being able to ride him.

“Do you want to touch it?” He asked, blurting the words out suddenly. As if God had answered your prayers, your heart leapt up into your throat, your pussy clenching around nothing as you shifted your hips closer to him.

You'd thought then that you'd quite enjoy bouncing on that thing yourself, but a handshake would have to do.

“So you have to stay hard, but-”

“But it's best I don't cum, yeah.”

“Okay. Noted.”

Slowly, you reached out a hand and gently wrapped each finger around the tip of his cock. He released himself and wrapped his now free hand around yours, setting the pace for you quickly as he engaged you in conversation again.

“So, where are you from?” He asked, as inept at small talk as you felt in that second.

You answered him without a fuss and returned the question. Las Vegas. That seemed to check out with how easily he'd broken into porn. There was always something happening in that city.

"How'd you get into the business?"

"Well, Vegas, you know. A producer saw a group of... street ladies offer me a freebie and gave me his card."

You went back and forth on questions like that for a few minutes before you noticed he was coughing every few seconds to mask moans and groans, evidently too into this to request you stop.

“Is it okay to…Can I touch you?” He asked, sounding very afraid of rejection at that second.

“Oh, um, yes. That'd only be fair, right?”

He ran a hand up your waist to the curve of your breast and pressed his fingers into one, digging into the skin as though it were a pillow, and he was testing it before he fell head first into it.

Maybe that was just wishful thinking, though.

Temporarily, you let go of him, popping the front buttons of your blouse until he could freely see all of your black and red bra, and feast on the tops of your dusty nipples, peaking out just above each cup.

You heard him inhale sharply, even as he tried to hide it, but you didn't care, too transfixed on the precum decorating his tip.

“Would you mind-” You started, but cut yourself off quickly, biting your lower lip.

“Mind?”

“Can I suck it?”

You didn't know where it came from because there were probably half a dozen other people still in the room, and mostly men. But dear god, he looked delicious, and you wanted just a little sample.

“Fuck yes,” he said, finally giving in and letting out a whole gust of breath as he slumped down a bit further, no longer holding himself rigid. “No, no, actually, please do. I'm begging, I'll beg-”

You cut him off by pushing yourself to your knees and crawling in between his, and seconds later, you were licking the length of his cock from the base of his balls all the way to that precious drop of precum.

Hard, but no cumming. You could do that. You'd never done it before, preferring to fully pleasure sexual partners any chance you got, but there was no time like the present to start learning.

Slowly, you wrapped your lips around his tip and sank down, taking one inch, then another, and then another. When you reached the base of his cock, you pushed that little bit further down, calming yourself and going slowly so you didn't gag, nose pushing into his neat public hair before pulling away just as slowly and doing it again.

You took him as deep down your throat as you could manage, and suddenly, it was like everything that kept your conversation casual and civil earlier had flown out the door. He threw his head back, fisted his hand in your hair, and moaned deep.

The sound shook you so much you almost pushed a hand into your own underwear and started fucking yourself, needing to prepare yourself for him like a good girl.

Around you, you could hear signs of the shoot starting back up again, people finding their places, still all but ignoring you deep-throating a porn star.

Spencer's breaths grew more rapid as you sucked him, hips becoming restless as he tried to lift up into your mouth, hand in your hair tightening as you realised your mistake.

You pulled off his cock and grasped it again, stroking it slowly, but it was too late. With a sharp moan and a twitch of his hips, Spencer so prettily decorated your chin and chest. His cum dripped down your face, hitting your cleavage and pushing further down to stain your nice black laced underwear white.

“Fuck! Sorry, I wasn't meant to do that, let me get some - Can I get a towel please? A baby wipe? Some tissue, anything?” His voice was panicked, but his hand on your head relaxed, and he brushed your hair gently behind your ear, as if comforting you.

He was panicked, for sure, but the crew calmly handed him everything he needed, as if they'd been in anticipation of just this thing happening. You supposed they probably were, this being a porn set. You were sure you were supposed to clean yourself up, but instead, he grabbed a wet tissue, leaving the pack just out of your reach.

He managed to clean your face off a bit before the director returned to the room with a laugh. Running a hand through his hair and messing it up slightly, the director turned back to you.

“We're five minutes out from shoot time,” he said, shaking his head. You started to apologise, but he stopped you with a hand.

“New girl, work whatever magic you just did and get him hard again. Five minutes.”

“W-What?” You spluttered, trying your best to rise from your knees, but ultimately failing. You were either stiff from the position or just weak with arousal.

“He just came, I don't think I can-”

“10 pictures I've done with that kid, and I haven't seen him cum that quickly ever before in my life. And certainly not just for some kitten licks. Do it.”

You turned back to Spencer, his cum still trickling down your chest, creating an almost uncomfortable stiffness as it dried up.

“Pleasure working with you?” You said, not-so-secretly ecstatic that you got to sample him once more.

“I'll be in your care,” he replied, as you begin softly kissing the head of his cock again, tipping his head back again and losing himself in the pleasure or your tongue.

#spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid x reader #reiderslibrary #spencer reid fanfic #mgg #spencer reid smut #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fandom #spencer reid criminal minds #spencer reid fanfiction #dr spencer reid #spencer reid x reader smut #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #cmkinkbingo2024

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prael · 2 months ago

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WYR-0573: Dirty Little Student Wang Yiren And Her Sexy Secret Camgirl Life Tempts Horny Teacher Into Rough Fuck and Creampie!

Everglow Yiren x male reader smut

Thankyou @co-reborn for allowing me to spiritually succeed this fic (Everyone read it if you haven't already.)

Masterlist word count: 4,221 Kofi(donations/commissions)

It seems like everything these days is a fucking ethics issue. It's not like you're trying to do anything that's going to hurt somebody. You're not ripping off old people, you're not laundering money, you're not putting lives at risk.

Shit, it's just a bit of fun, but if anyone finds out you've had your cock inside Wang Yiren, then the ethics committee is going to eat you alive. It doesn't matter if she wants your cock in there just as badly as you do.

You have to get creative to make it work. First thing is first: get her out of your office. Sure, it's not unusual for a student to take some office time with her thesis advisor, but walking out in the state she does? Her cheeks flushed, and her blouse dishevelled, with a slight, satisfied smile on her face and her panties stuffed into the front pocket of her backpack.

People are going to notice, and that can't happen.

There's a part of you that wishes you could make it stop outright, but you can't. Every time she uploads another one of those videos, your eyes are locked to your computer screen and your cock's locked in your hand.

Maybe it's the novelty of knowing that the girl on the camera's not just any other girl on the internet; it's perhaps the fact that she's the girl that you've had inside your office. Maybe it's that her body's incredible; her tits are small and pert, her ass tight, and that little slit of a pussy is just begging to be fucked.

Or maybe, it's how openly she will sit across from you at your desk and ask you so casually what you thought of her latest video with the same sort of inflection that a student would use to ask you about the latest reading. "I wasn't really sure if the whole clamping my nipples thing worked. I mean, it was kinda hot, I guess. And I got off pretty hard, so there's that. What'd you think?"

What do you think?

You're a good guy—a good professor—so you give her honest feedback, "I thought it was hot, Yiren, but it took a while for you to get into it. Was that your first time? Playing with your nipples that way?"

"Mhm." You can see the little smirk curl up on her face, "I was hoping it wasn't obvious that I was nervous. It's tough getting started with some new kinks, you know?"

It's a strange little world the two of you inhabit. On the surface, it's the relationship of a graduate student to her thesis advisor: a mutually respectful relationship based on academic mentorship and intellectual discourse. Under the surface, it's the sort of thing that gets both of you expelled: the sort of relationship that's built on her need for you to see her get off in front of her webcam and your need for her to keep uploading videos.

But as you look at her now, you think about what she's doing. She's a twenty-something grad student who gets her rocks off by playing with herself on camera for thousands of strangers on the internet. It makes her hot. It makes her cum. And you're only too happy to be there for her. It makes you hot, it makes you cum, and there's a bit of you that feels a sense of pride knowing that even though the whole world gets to see what her face looks like when she climaxes, only you have managed to fuck her to one.

"Don't get me wrong, Yiren. It was hot. I'm sure everyone got off to it."

There's a slight cockiness to her smirk—she already knew it to be true. "And you?"

"Do you really need to ask every time?" you reply.

"Mm. Yes," she leans back on the chair in front of your desk and raises one leg over the armrest. "I like to know that you liked what I put out."

You don't miss a beat, and the words come out as casually as if you were critiquing an assignment: "I jerked myself raw, Yiren."

"I'm glad," her fingers are tracing little lines down the inside of her thighs. You lean in closer, elbows against the desk. "What part did it for you?"

"Yiren, I know what you're doing."

She starts to pull up the hem of her skirt while flashing you faux innocence with her blinking eyes. "What's that, Sir?"

"Seriously. We can't. Not here."

"I'm just showing you, Sir," her skirt is around her waist now. She's not even trying to hide her desire. Her pussy's wet. Glistening. "Looking for a little feedback. Was it my pussy? My fingers? How wet I was?"

You want to grab her, throw her onto the desk, and fuck her until the entire floor hears her scream. You want to feel your cock sink inside of her pussy, feel your skin slap against hers, feel the wetness of her desire as you thrust into her. But that would be the end of everything. "You're killing me here, Yiren."

"You know, people keep asking for more stuff with a guy. I could put it on pay-per-view, make a killing." She runs her fingers along her slit and you hear that soft little moan that's driven so many guys to bust on their keyboards. "What'd you think about that, Sir?"

You're starting to breathe hard. It doesn't matter that you've fucked this girl before. All you know is that you can't have her now. And she knows that drives you nuts.

Her finger's on her clit now and she's rubbing in circles. Her head tilts back slightly, her mouth parts, and you know she's going to cum right here if you let her go on. "Yiren," your voice is almost hoarse.

Her finger is a blur, and her voice is a half-moan, "Mm, Sir?"

"You're going to get us in trouble."

"I think I'm worth the trouble." Her chest's heaving. She's going to go off any second. "Sir," her eyes look straight at yours and there's something about that direct stare that sends a shiver through you, "Are you hard?"

You nod. There's not much else to do.

She takes her hands away from herself, leaving her pussy on the edge. You know that it's aching, throbbing. She bites her lip and stares at the growing bulge in your pants. "Maybe you can show me how you jerked yourself off the other day."

"Yiren. Fuck. Not here."

"Then where?" She snaps, clasping her legs closed and pushing her skirt back over them, "You won't do anything in your office. You won't take me home. Where, then, huh? Maybe I should just go to the headmaster and tell her what you—"

She doesn't finish that sentence. Your hand is gripping her arm tightly as you yank her up off her seat, "Come with me."

You lead her down the hallway. She's struggling, but she's grinning too. She knows she's getting her way.

Your eyes dart from left to right. It's late and the chances of running into anyone is pretty low, but still, there's always the chance.

"Sir, what's the deal?" she's laughing now. "What's your plan?"

"I don't have one."

It doesn't matter. You've been in the same spot before with her. She's been begging for it, you can't do it in your office, and you need someplace quiet, someplace private, someplace where the two of you can be alone for a while.

You lead her to the parking lot and she realizes your plan. Her voice is almost mocking. "Sir, that's not exactly original, you know. A parking lot? Your car?"

"It'll do, Yiren." Your voice is firm, almost angry, and she's eating it up—you know what gets her going. "And maybe it's a bit clichéd, but we won't have any of these pesky problems of you being too loud and giving us away." You stop her at the passenger door to your sedan, lean her against the car and press yourself against her. "And trust me, you will be too loud, Yiren."

She grins up at you. She likes the sound of that. "What're we doing here, Sir? I thought you didn't want to fuck me anymore. Not after last time."

"I never said that." Your fingers run down her side and you feel the familiar thrill of touching her again, feeling her body under your fingers. "I said no more fucking in my office, Yiren," you slide your hand over her ass. "So we're here." You lean down and kiss her, and she moans as her body leans into you.

She pulls away from the kiss, panting, "But, Sir, you know what else I want." You feel her fingers reach down and run across the bulge in your pants, and her breath catches. "Mm. I want this. I want to film you, Sir. I want to film this."

It's a bad idea, you know. The riskiest of ideas. You can see her in your mind's eye: the way her face looks when she's cumming, when she's biting her lip to hold in the scream, the way her body shudders, and her eyes shut tight, the way that she gasps for air afterwards. You want her to be able to share that with the world, to get her off by getting the world off. "Fine."

"Seriously?" She looks at you in disbelief, but you've already opened the door and nudged her inside. She climbs in and crawls to the other end, tossing her purse in the front seat after she pulls out her phone. "It's not ideal but it'll have to work." You're on her in an instant, pulling her skirt up around her waist, pushing her down against the seats, kissing her, and sliding your fingers into her.

She squeals, then gasps, and then giggles as you thrust your fingers in and out of her pussy. "Mm, Sir," her moans are punctuated by each thrust of your fingers, "Fuck. Wait. I haven't even got my phone set up yet. Fuck. Wait."

You slow, just a little, just enough, then you concede and pull out. You know she wants it, needs it. You watch her hands shake as she rushes to set the phone up, she's got it in selfie mode and it's the best she can do.

"The lighting's all wrong, but who cares, right? They're here to watch you fuck me. They don't care about lighting." She's talking to herself as much as to you, but you know how she is. You know that she wants you to play along.

"Let's show them how pretty you are, Yiren." You pull out your fingers, then press your palms against her legs, pushing them apart and sliding in closer between them. You watch as she tries to hold the camera steady. Her breaths are shallow. "Show them what your pussy looks like." She turns the camera down and focuses it on her pussy. She spreads herself for the camera, showing her audience her soft pink pussy. She's so wet, you can't wait to feel her on your cock, feel that heat, that wetness, and that tightness.

"God," you groan. You've watched her videos so many times, but seeing it up close and in the flesh is always different. You run your fingers down the inside of her thigh until they brush her pussy lips, and you spread her wide. Her hips buck slightly and you watch the juices of her desire drip down the crack of her ass. You push your fingers into her, and you feel the warmth of her insides. She cries out, "Mmf! Oh god."

You take it slow. She's filming it all. You want this video to be hot. You pull out your fingers, then push them in, watching the wetness cling to them as you thrust them in and out of her pussy. "Fuck, Sir. Oh god." You curl your fingers up and press your fingertip against the spot you've learned to find. You feel the rough skin against your finger and you press into it. Her head tilts back, her eyes shut tight, and you watch as her body shudders. You push your finger harder against it, rub it, and her moans get louder.

You pull your fingers out, then push them in, slowly, rhythmically. She whines, but you don't give in. "Tell the audience how it feels, Yiren." You're teasing her now. She doesn't want you to go slow. You know she's aching for more.

"Feels so fucking good." She pants, holding the camera steady. "God, Sir. Don't stop."

"Why?"

"Mm." She whines, and you can hear that she's on the edge, "Feels so good, Sir. Your fingers feel so good in my pussy." You pull your fingers out of her, then press the palm of your hands against her thighs and spread her wider.

You take your time. Your fingers brush down the length of her pussy, from her clit down to the juices on her asshole, and you press against that tight little pucker. She gasps and you hear her moan. You press your fingers against her hole, feeling it tense and tighten against your fingers.

She lets out a sharp, shocked whine as you tease her asshole and you can't take it any longer. She knows just what you want. You lean down and press your lips against her clit, and you hear her squeal as you lick her clit. You suck her clit, tasting the juices that flow from her, and you feel her body tense up. She's so close. You pull yourself away from her and grin up at her.

She's panting hard, staring up at you. "God. I need you to fuck me." Her voice is a whine, a needy whine. You can hear her desperation.

"I know you do, Yiren," you reply, unbuckling your pants. You pull your cock free and stroke yourself a few times as she stares down at you. "I know how much you want this."

She nods, her mouth open and panting. "So much. God, please fuck me with that." You press your cockhead against her pussy, rubbing it between her lips. "Fuck, Sir, please. I love a big hard cock in my tight pussy."

You grin and whisper, "Tell them what you need, Yiren."

She looks right into the camera, "Please fuck me, Sir. I need you to fuck my pussy. I need to feel you stretch me wide. Fuck, Sir. Fuck me." She's begging and her breath is a desperate pant. "Please, I'm so wet. I want to cum with your cock inside of me. I need to."

You press yourself against her entrance, just enough to push her open, then you pull away and watch her cunt quiver at your touch. You can tell she wants to be taken, needs to be fucked hard and fast, and she knows you can give it to her.

You push your hips forward and thrust your cock into her, and you watch her pussy open and spread for you. "Fuck," she cries, her hands trembling, but you don't slow down. You thrust hard, pulling her hips into you, and you slam your cock deep into her.

"God, your pussy feels so good." Your fingers grip tight on her thighs, spreading her wide as you pound into her, and her cries fill the car.

She tries to keep the phone steady, filming you thrust into her. She can barely keep herself together. You can see the camera shaking, "In his fucking car. You hear that? He couldn't even wait to get me home. He needed to fuck me. He spends all day watching me in class, thinking all these dirty little thoughts about me, and then he just can't take it anymore and he fucks me right in the parking lot. And you know what? I'm gonna fucking cum because of him."

You're going hard and fast and she's so fucking tight. You can hear her moaning and groaning with every thrust, and her pussy is clenching around you. You can tell she's on the edge, her pussy is trembling around you, and she's screaming for more. You know that the video is probably a mess, a shaky, poorly framed mess of her tits shaking, her face pulling the dirtiest of expressions and her pussy getting fucked.

Her words are getting more erratic. She can barely keep it together, so you snatch it from her hand, record the way you thrust into her, how your balls slap against her cunt. She moans louder when you do and you realize she likes that you're the one recording her.

The camera pans up to her face. You want to see her cum. You want to film it. "Cum, Yiren." Your voice is loud and commanding. "Cum on my cock. Let them see you cum on your teacher's cock."

Her hands are above her head, grasping at the leather seats. Her back arches beneath you and her head is thrown back, pressing into the very same upholstery that her fingers do. Her hips shudder and you feel her insides squeeze around your shaft as she cries out, "Fuck!" The sound of your flesh slapping into her flesh fills the car, and she's a writhing, whimpering, cumming mess as you pound her through her orgasm.

You keep filming as you reach down, and with one hand, rip open the buttons of her shirt. Three of them come flying off, pinging around the car and leaving a lopsided mess of fabric and bra that exposes the flesh of one of her pert tits. It doesn't take long before your hand is gripping her breast, pinching at her nipple, tugging at her flesh as you keep pounding into her.

Yiren gets the message, pulling the rest open on her own and pulling down her bra, exposing both tits. Her fingers are on her own nipple, tugging at it and pinching. You watch the way she teases herself, the way her body reacts, and the way she's still shivering from her orgasm. She's a mess and you love seeing her that way.

If there's something painfully obvious from her videos, it's that one is never enough. So Yiren doesn't even need to ask, you're already guiding her onto her knees and then pushing her forward so her face is against the glass. "Show them your ass, Yiren."

You hold the camera in your hand and record the image of her reaching back and pulling her skirt over her hips, exposing her bare ass and pussy to you. You record as she reaches back and spreads her cheeks for the camera, letting her fingers pull apart her wet pussy and letting your audience see that tight, puckered asshole.

"Sir," you watch her face pressed against the window. Her breath leaves an opaque cloud against the cold glass, "How does my ass look?" You can't help it, your free hand comes crashing down against her skin and you watch it ripple under your palm. "Oh!"

You grin at her reaction, "You look like a naughty little girl who needs a good spanking."

"Oh, Sir," she moans, "What did I do?"

You slap her ass again, and again, watching it redden under your hand. "Such a naughty little girl. Making a mess in my office." You're slapping her again, watching her ass jiggle and turn pink.

Yiren whimpers, "I did. I was so naughty."

"What did you do, Yiren?"

"I was so fucking wet. I couldn't stop touching myself."

"Why were you wet?" You spank her again and you watch as her hips press back into you, "Tell your viewers what made you so wet that you needed to touch yourself."

"I needed you." Yiren's panting hard, her voice a needy moan, "God, I need you to fuck me. I was thinking about your cock. How good it felt when you fucked my pussy. I wanted you to fuck my pussy again."

You push her forward, letting her hands come down against the foggy glass. Her ass is up in the air and you're pressing your cock against her pussy. She's still wet from her cum and it takes no effort at all to thrust deep into her.

You're so deep in her wet folds. Her soft embrace is warm, tight, and you feel yourself slide deep inside of her, and you watch as her face twists and contorts in pleasure, in desire.

"Show them what they're doing to you, Yiren. Show them how they make you feel." You pull the phone up to her face, filming her moans, her cries, the faces she makes as you fuck her. "You like it when they watch, don't you? You like it when I fuck you like this and they have to watch."

She's panting, moaning, and nodding. Her hips press back into you as you pound into her and you watch her ass ripple and bounce with each thrust.

You reach around and grab her tie. She always wears it loose, but it's still enough to pull it up tight against her throat, pull her back into you. You wrap it twice around your hand and it yanks her up straight, her body against your chest. She's panting hard as her hands come up and try to claw at the tie around her throat.

She can't stop moaning, crying, and she can barely breathe, and you watch as she struggles to hold on, her head tilting back and resting on your shoulder. You film her as she struggles to hold it together. She can barely keep her eyes open and her voice comes out as a desperate, choked moan.

You let go of the tie, and it unravels in your hand. You watch her slump forward and her hands come down to the seat. Her face presses into the leather and she's whimpering. "You're such a good girl, Yiren." You press yourself deep inside her and grind your hips against hers, "Such a good girl for taking my cock."

She groans, "Thank you." She's still pushing back against you and her eyes are shut tight. "Thank you, Sir."

"Good girls get a treat, don't they?" You grin and you run your fingers against her asshole. "I bet you like a nice treat for being such a good girl."

Her breath hitches, and her eyes flutter, "Please, Sir."

You press your finger against her hole, and she pushes her ass back, and you feel her ass relax and open for your finger. Her tight asshole squeezes your finger tight and you hear her moan, and her pussy clenches your cock. "Fuck."

"Oh god, Sir," she moans. She's a needy, whining little mess, "Please cum in me."

Her words are like music to your ears. Her body is trembling under you, and she's moaning for you to cum. Her words are so desperate. She's begging, and you can't resist. Your hand is gripping her ass, with a finger slipped inside, and you pound into her, feeling her tight, wet cunt squeeze around you.

"Fuck, Sir, please," she begs. "Breed your favourite little student. Fill her up with your cum." She's crying out, her voice echoing inside the car.

Your hips shudder as you thrust deep into her and feel your balls clench, you can't take any more, and your cock is pulsing, throbbing, and your cum is filling her, flooding her insides, and her ass is trembling around your finger. Your chest is heaving, and your heart is pounding, and you can barely breathe. She's still pushing her ass back against your hand and her body is shivering with every pulse of cum that your cock pumps into her. You keep thrusting, feeling her pussy tighten and milk your cock.

When it's all over, you watch as she slowly pulls away from you, and you see the thick white seed drip from her hole and onto her thighs. She sits back on her knees and looks right into the camera. Her chest is flushed and heaving. Her hair's a mess, and her shirt's hanging open. Her makeup's running and there are tears on her cheek. But there's a satisfied look on her face.

She's grinning from ear to ear and you can't help but grin along with her. "That," she pants, still trying to catch her breath, "is how I get a good grade in class." Her words are followed with a giggle and then she leans forward and shuts off the camera. Her hand finds the back of your neck and she pulls you into a kiss. Her lips are hungry and her tongue presses into your mouth. Your hand wraps around her head, and your fingers get tangled in her hair as you pull her closer and deeper into you.

She pulls away, a smile on her face, and a twinkle in her eye, "You're a natural, you know. You really know what they want. Makes sense, you are one of them."

"Thanks." You laugh. You can't help but notice that her hand's between her legs, rubbing and stroking. She's unsatiable.

"Sir? Since I'm such a good student, does it mean you'll take me home and fuck me in your bed?"

#Yiren smut #kpop smut #male reader #kpop fanfic #m reader #Everglow smut #Yiren x reader #smut #kpop fanfiction #Wang Yiren

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stressforu · 7 months ago

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♯ itoshi rin — 'you know how to ball, i know aristotle'

a trend perfectly describing you and rin .

note : proplayer!rin x fem!reader

home page . . .

' ITOSHI RIN , a renowned soccer player from Japan have been rumored to attend a graduation ceremony just recently.''

The headline in big bold fonts are highlighted in an article, with a stolen shot (blurry if not with his recognizable dark green hair) of rin holding a bouquet of flowers in his left hand while holding his phone in the right, looking like he's texting someone.

Comments flooded the article, almost everyone is reluctant to know what is the famous striker doing at a university?

anon1028: guys, maybe he has a gf?

➜ anon5027: that's impossible, if he did have, it would've been rumored.

However, there was one thing the world already knew, Rin Itoshi was careful with the media. He's meticulous when he goes out, the paparazzi can't even get a single piece of information out of his private life. (The world turned upside down when a stolen shot of him was sent to the media.)

Though Rin Itoshi was meticulous with hiding, he didn't want to miss your graduation ceremony. Seeing you bask in the joy of graduation with friends and batchmates.

He was proud of you, even though he always scolded you when you didn't have enough sleep, forcing you to eat real food because you've been on noodles since last month.

He was willing to give up his private life in order to watch you give your speech as a valedictorian. (wow ...)

And as you ascended into the stage, the speech you wrote you held in your left hand, and the dainty 'clack' of your heels echoed the silent crowd.

You thanked the dean, the professors, and the staff welcomed the graduating students like you, and wished them a happy graduation.

As you near the end of the speech you want to give acknowledgment to a special someone.

"As the speech comes to an end, I want to thank someone very special who has been there for me throughout this journey. Their constant support, encouragement, and belief in me have always given me strength and inspiration. Whether it was studying late at night, feeling unsure, or celebrating achievements, their presence made a big difference."

Rin felt his eyes becoming teary, his face in a blushing mess, and that tight-lipped smile he'd always wear when he's happy.

You continued,

"To my partner, thank you for your endless patience, love, and for always believing in me, even when I struggled to believe in myself. This achievement is as much yours as it is mine."

You bowed, and the crown erupted into claps, awed by the heartwarming speech you had given on this day. You went down the stage to thank your professors and celebrate with your friends. However, you failed to notice Rin, your lover, walking into the crowd with a bouquet in his hand.

The crowd gasped, and someone pointed out shouting, "LOOK IT'S THE ATHLETE !" getting your attention. You gasped, it was Rin.

He walks towards you and hands out his bouquet with your favorite flowers. Congratulating you, and wishing you a happy graduation.

"y-you came..."

"how could I miss my girlfriend's graduation? congrats, baby ..."

@/itoshi_rin has a new post .ᐟ

———

@/itoshi_rin : love you.

➜ tagged @/yn_tiredofstudying

1728 comments

—> @/sae_toshi : am i dreaming?

notes : UHHH i dunno what to feel about this

#itoshi rin x you #itoshi rin x y/n #rin itoshi x reader #blue lock x you #blue lock #blue lock x reader #itoshi rin #itoshi rin x reader #blue lock x y/n #rin x you

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espresso1patronum · 13 days ago

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I think there's been a glitch

megumi fushiguro! x f!reader (best friends to lovers?)

summary: you were supposed to be just friends. yes, you and megumi. you were both supposed to be normal high school classmates, with nothing more than platonic feelings between the two of you. you were his best friend, and you swore you'd never fall for him. so how did you end up pinned against him on his bed? this definitely isn’t the typical situation for best friends, is it?

warnings: afab!reader, swearing/cursing, both the reader and megumi are eighteen, best friends to lovers trope, high school au, teenagers being totally oblivious, fluff, hurt/comfort, slow burn?

word count: 17.9k (HELP)

a/n: based on a small drabble i wrote and ya'll requested if i could make it a fic, your wish is my comand so here it is. this is the first part and there will be a second one. guys i'm totally in love with this one. it's rly cute and it's my bbg<3 i love how stupid and oblivious they are haha

"you asshole! give me my notes back!" you yelled as you ran and somehow caught up to megumi, pulling on his bag.

"your notes?" he scoffed. "they're mine, and you stole them from me," he said, yanking you off of him.

you rolled your eyes. "haha, yeah, they are your notes and maybe i did steal them from you, but still—why'd you take 'em back?" you said, trying to grab the papers from his hands, but he held onto your wrist, preventing you from doing so.

megumi sighed. "because they're mine? tsk..idiot; don't you have anything else to do other than annoy me every morning?"

yes, this was a typical morning for the both of you as you walked to school. you being the pesky little brat you were, and him being the nonchalant grump he was.

you’d practically known each other since elementary school, back when you were just six. you first met him when the teacher asked you to recite a poem, and you got stuck halfway through, while everyone else laughed—except for him. you were a stubborn girl back then, and you thought his lack of laughter meant he was being kind and wanted to be friends. but no, the truth was, he simply didn’t care.

but that didn’t stop you from becoming friends with him. in fact, he was the most mature six-year-old you’d ever met, with a sharp tongue to match. when he reluctantly agreed to be friends, you soon realized he had trouble connecting with other kids. yet, despite that, you two became inseparable, and ever since, you’ve been best friends. now, here you were, in the final semester of high school.

megumi was, without even trying, one of the most popular guys in school. despite being incredibly introverted and aloof, you couldn’t help but wonder how he managed to attract so much attention. his looks and academic performance turned heads, earning him the admiration of nearly every girl. and you? you felt like you might throw up. how could they like him? your stupid best friend? (you very well knew he was much smarter than you, but you couldn't help but despise all that attention he got)

you, on the other hand, were known as "the best friend of the cool guy"—the so-called cool guy. you absolutely hated that label. because you spent so much time with him, guys never showed interest in you, assuming you were dating him. it made you furious, especially now that high school was almost over, and you were already eighteen and you had never dated a guy. never. and you blamed megumi for that. maybe because he was always around you.

things have got to change or else i'll die single, alone and miserable. you thought.

"...and that’s how christopher columbus discovered america in 1492," your history teacher, professor yaga, announced. history was by far the most boring subject in your opinion. you could easily sleep through the entire class and never miss a thing. and that’s exactly what you were doing—dozing off while some students listened attentively, megumi being one of them, others pretending to pay attention, and a few, like you, already asleep. but of course, professor yaga had to single you out. "y/n! wake up, you sleepyhead!" he called out, tossing a piece of chalk at you.

"no, i didn't steal your candy-" you muttered, still half-asleep as you rubbed your eyes. the other kids couldn't help but laugh at your groggy response. professor yaga raised an eyebrow, his tone sharp. "you do realize this will land you in detention, miss l/n?"

you snapped awake, panic flooding your chest as you scrambled for an explanation. "please, sir, i swear i won't do it again," you pleaded, your voice almost a whisper.

fuck it, you fell asleep again.

he let out a long sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose. "fine. but you'll submit your report tomorrow as your punishment." you nodded quickly, relief washing over you. it wasn't the worst outcome, but it was fair enough.

you felt that the world wasn't fair to girls like you. you weren't very social, and on top of that, you weren't the best academically—good, but not enough to meet your parents' expectations. you had zero experience with dating, and to make matters worse, you were a bit of a mess and a huge crackhead, sure that you probably weirded people out.

you had watched those romantic movies that nobara had forced you to watch. in them, the female lead's problems were always solved with the perfect kiss. you couldn't help but wonder, when am i ever going to experience that? when?

with megumi tagging along all the time with you, you wondered if you'd ever actually get a boyfriend.

your thoughts were interrupted as the bell rang, and you felt a tug behind you. "what do you want, fushiguro?" you asked, glancing as megumi sat down beside your bench.

"you might want to stay awake during history lectures, or you'll fail, idiot," megumi said nonchalantly.

"why do you care?" you replied, crossing your arms. "it's not like you're concerned for me, right?"

he deadpanned at you. "gojo will probably kill me then- 'it's your fault she couldn't concentrate,' he'll say."

"ugh, i knew it," you groaned, leaning on the table with your hands pressed to your forehead. "you don't give a fuck about me."

no. in fact, megumi did care about you a lot. it’s just that you were oblivious, and he was particularly good at hiding it. of course, megumi would care about the one person who knew him so well and liked him for who he truly was, even if you two often bickered over small things. that’s what best friends are supposed to be like, after all.

"no one does care, do they?" you asked, your face propped up on your chin as you scanned the classroom. megumi couldn't have bothered less, but you thought there were still yuji and nobara who would care for you.

megumi sighed. "stop being like this and get your miserable ass up," he said, walking away.

"wait for me, megumi!" you said dramatically, pretending to struggle as you tried to get up from your chair.

you followed him out into the hallway, arms crossed and brows furrowed as you shot him a sideways glance.

"umm..do you think i'll ever get a boyfriend?" you asked, the words slipping out before you could stop them.

megumi barely looked at you as he walked, but you could swear you saw the tiniest smirk tug at his lips. "i don't know," he said, his tone flat. "with that attitude? probably not."

you threw your hands up in exaggerated frustration, swatting at his shoulder. "shut up, asshole!"

just then, a girl from another class caught sight of you both and grinned. "are you two dating? cute," she said, and suddenly, the world felt way too small as you both froze—embarrassed, awkward, and a little bit… cringe.

"no!" you both yelled at the same time, quickly glancing at each other before looking away, the tension hanging in the air.

it wasn't the first time. "are you and megumi a thing? you guys look cool together," people would ask, and every single time, you'd feel that weird mix of frustration and confusion.

megumi. your boyfriend? yeah, right. the idea was so ridiculous that you couldn't even picture it. the thought of it had you laughing to yourself. the thing was, megumi didn’t see you as a... girl. you’d both grown up together, shared countless memories, and spent more time bickering than anything else. to him, you were just you—his childhood friend, someone he’d known forever.

it didn’t matter how many times people asked or joked about you two being a couple. in megumi's eyes, you were always just… one of the guys. no, his guy. that's all. and maybe that was part of the problem.

you didn’t blame him, of course. it wasn’t like you had any experience with relationships either. but the more you thought about it, the more you realized how complicated it would be if things did ever change. that's why you swore not to fall for him. you told yourself over and over that it was just too complicated, that things would never work out between you two. you had a good friendship with megumi. that's all you wanted, nothing more than that. you couldn't risk messing it up.

and it wasn’t just you. megumi, in his own quiet way, had sworn the same thing. he was scared—scared that if things changed, if feelings got involved, he might lose you. and losing you was something he couldn’t even think about.

"i almost gagged," you muttered, shaking your head in disbelief. megumi nodded in agreement, his expression unmoved. "i know, right? how can people say such absurd things?" he scoffed, the words dripping with arrogance. "you're a fool and i'm too good for you."

you shot him a glare, as you lunged towards him, practically trying to choke him.

"dare say that again, you—" you growled, stopping just short of him, eyes narrowed with irritation. megumi barely flinched, instead ruffling your hair, not bothered in the slightest way.

"like that could even do anything to me," he teased, clearly enjoying how easily he could push your buttons.

you groaned, throwing your hands up in frustration. "you're impossible," you muttered.

she looks kinda… cute when she's flustered, he thought, but then immediately froze, realizing what he had just thought. cute? her? what? his mind scrambled to make sense of it. what's wrong with me? he mentally shook his head, trying to push the thought away, but it lingered, making him feel uncomfortably self-aware.

you pouted at him, crossing your arms with a dramatic huff. "you know what, megumi, if you keep acting like this, i'm going to stop hanging out with you," you said, trying to sound serious.

but megumi wasn’t paying attention. his mind was still stuck on that thought from earlier. why the heck did you have to pout like that? he couldn’t shake the image of your cute, frustrated expression. why was he feeling things? he frowned, trying to snap out of it, but his thoughts just kept drifting back to you.

just best friends. just best friends. he repeated in his mind, trying to ground himself. but then, the thought wouldn’t leave him. was it even possible to think your girl best friend looked cute? he wondered, his mind spinning. the more he tried to convince himself it was nothing, the more his heart seemed to disagree. something was definitely wrong with him.

trying to push the thought aside, megumi returned to his usual stoic expression. "what is it you were saying, y/n?" he asked, his voice colder now.

"unbelievable!" you crossed your arms, shaking your head in disbelief. "you know what, megumi? if you're being like this, i’m taking a break from you. i can’t spend every waking second with you. i have a life too, you know." you paused, frowning. "i’m going to agree with nobara, who’s been pushing me to go on a date. but i always said no before, why? because i thought you’d get lonely. but clearly, you don’t care. so don’t bother. don’t try to call me," you said, turning to leave.

you didn't know what came over you or why you said all that. maybe you really feared ending up alone and sad with zero experience in dating like a sore loser, just because you spent so much time with your best friend.

megumi's chest tightened at your words, but he couldn't hold it in any longer. "you’re the one who sticks to me. i don’t mind being left alone. you’re the one who bombards me with messages and calls. you keep saying you have a life? well, i have one too. so i don’t care if you go on a stupid date with some stupid guy," he snapped, his frustration bubbling over.

yes, he fucked up. and yes, he did care if you went on a stupid date with a stupid guy.

you scoffed, your voice sharp with frustration. "alright then, putting all our years of friendship at stake—this is what you wanted, right?" you turned and started walking away, leaving megumi standing there, his expression faltering.

he looked down, feeling a weight in his chest that only seemed to grow heavier by the second. really bad. the guilt settled in, a sinking feeling he couldn't shake off. what had he just done? why did he say those things?

why couldn’t he just say okay and move on like any other friend? why did it feel like his chest was tightening, like there was a lump in his throat every time he thought about you with someone else?

he hated the thought of it—hated how it gnawed at him, how it made his stomach twist. he couldn’t figure out why seeing you with another guy felt like it was something he couldn’t bear.

was it because he didn’t want to lose you? or was it something else?

ofcourse it wasn't. he was only genuinely concerned for you. sure.

this was the first time megumi realised that he was bad at lying to himself.

you didn’t talk to megumi for the next few days. every morning, you made sure to leave for school early, avoiding him entirely. you didn’t want him to have the chance to pick you up and walk with you like he usually did.

megumi, however, figured out your new routine quickly. he tried to follow your schedule, hoping to catch you, even just for a moment, but with each passing day, his efforts became less persistent. gradually, he stopped trying altogether. best friends don’t act like this, he thought, a bitter taste in his mouth. it felt wrong, but he couldn’t bring himself to do anything more.

it had been a few days since everything had happened. it was a fight, but it lasted longer than you expected. sure, you and megumi had petty little arguments often, but you always made up quickly since neither of you wanted anything serious. but this time, it was different.

you were scribbling in the back of your notebook when the teacher's voice made your head snap up. "so, i'm going to be dividing you all into groups for this project. any volunteers?" the teacher asked as you returned to your scribbling.

"yn, what about you?" she called, pulling your attention back. you shifted in your seat, caught off guard. "uh, yeah, sure," you muttered, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. the thing was, you didn’t mind projects, but you definitely didn’t want to be the group leader.

"any student you'd like to have as a co-leader?" she asked.

you scanned the room, your eyes briefly meeting megumi's. "no, i don't have a preference," you replied, deliberately avoiding his glare.

"alright then, i’ll make megumi your co-leader since you two worked well together last time," she said, and you nodded, sinking back into your seat.

you mentally cursed at yourself. no. this wasn’t supposed to happen.

the teacher assigned the rest of the groups, and you found yourself stuck with megumi and four other students.

you didn’t like this one bit. you had been hoping to avoid talking to him, but now, being in the same group, you wouldn’t have a choice.

"alright, I'm assigning the project file to you," megumi said, glancing at you.

you frowned.

he turned to look back at you. "what?" he asked. "nothing," you replied flatly. megumi had been quiet for a while, having tried to get you to talk to him, but with no success. to your frustration, he had started acting indifferent, as if you two had never been best friends.

you wanted him to worry. you wanted him to beg for your attention. but he didn’t even apologize, and that hurt. the reason for the fight had been petty, but you didn’t know what else to do. just then, nobara came running up, giggling as she threw her arms around your shoulders.

"woah, woah, calm down, bara," you said, holding her steady.

"omg, yn! guess what? i set you up on a date!" she squealed.

"what?" you blinked, narrowing your eyes. "what the fuck, nobara? why’d you do that?"

she looked at you skeptically. "you’re the one who told me the other day that you were going to date, or else you’d end up—"

you quickly covered her mouth, embarrassed. "yeah, yeah, i get it, but i didn’t mean right now."

you swear you saw megumi glaring at the two of you from a distance. "what’s up with you now, fushiguro? jealous that your ex-best friend finally got a date?" nobara teased, clearly annoyed.

megumi scoffed, his voice cold. "i'm looking at you because you’re making a commotion and being too loud," he muttered, walking away.

he didn’t seem to care. did he even listen to what nobara said? part of you wondered if he still cared at all, but another part of you felt like he didn’t—and that made you... sad.

you were walking down the corridor with nobara during break. "megumi didn't even apologize. i don’t know what’s wrong with him," you said, crossing your arms as nobara nodded in agreement.

"i mean, it's true that you'd never get a boyfriend with him always hanging around you," nobara added, making you frown and shove her playfully.

"well, anyways—" you started, but were cut off when someone stopped right in front of the two of you. you looked up and froze.

"hey there, yn," a voice you recognised from somewhere, spoke.

it was asahi.

he was tall, with black hair, a handsome face, and a presence that made him impossible to ignore. as the best basketball player at your school, he was surrounded by tons of girls, all of whom seemed to fawn over him. you had a teeny, tiny crush on him, but you never imagined he'd talk to you like this.

"hello asahi?" nobara said, snapping you out of your thoughts.

"i fix you up on a date with her and you don’t even say hello to me? where are your manners?" nobara scoffed, and asahi chuckled lightly.

what? wait, a date?

suddenly, everything clicked. he was the one you were going on a date with?

"oh yeah, i forgot to tell yn that you're the one she’s going on a date with," nobara added casually.

you felt your face heat up. embarrassed, you scratched the back of your neck. "h-h-hi, asahi," you stammered.

he smiled warmly at you. "you have a pretty smile, yn," he said, gently tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear.

boom. you heard it.

and in that moment, you could swear you heard your heart skip a beat.

"why did you even agree to go on a date with me when nobara asked?" you asked asahi, a hint of confusion in your voice as he smiled.

"well, you got it wrong, yn," he replied, still smiling. "i was the one who asked her if you were single. i was the one who approached first."

you blushed furiously, caught off guard by his words.

for a moment, it felt as though the whole world had paused. your hair gently flowed in the breeze, and asahi was looking straight into your eyes, just like in the movies. suddenly, those cheesy scenes made sense.

"well, I’ll get going, yn. i’ve got your number from nobara, so i’ll text you later. and remember, it’s a date," asahi winked before walking off to join his friends.

you wanted to giggle, laugh, cry—anything, really. you had gotten your first date, and not just with anyone, but with asahi. you were bursting to tell megumi.

"wait, let me go tell megu—" you started, but then you stopped yourself.

oh right, i can't. i forgot.

nobara sighed. "girl, just leave him for now. you’ve got a date, don’t you? now all you need to do is wait for his text," she said with a knowing smile.

you nodded, but you felt empty somehow. "yeah, i guess so."

that evening, you found yourself lying on your bed, working on your homework while listening to your favorite song. you felt anxious, wondering if asahi would actually text you or if you’d end up waiting forever, only to be played by him. but he seemed too genuine for that—that's what you thought, at least, in that moment, through the lens of your teenage mind.

suddenly, your phone buzzed, and you jumped up to check the message. it was from megumi.

megumi: hi, i was wondering if our group could meet tomorrow at the café at 5 p.m. to discuss the project. be there.

you hesitated for a moment before replying, but eventually, you typed:

you: ok, fine.

you wanted to tell megumi about your date with asahi, but a part of you wanted him to feel the sting of not knowing. i won’t tell him, you thought. he’ll find out eventually.

just as you flopped onto your bed and closed your eyes, your phone buzzed again. you peeked at the screen—it was an unknown number.

asahi: hey yn! you free tomorrow at 5? if you are, i’ll pick you up! we’ll go to the movies.

you shot up, eyes wide in shock. oh my god, it’s asahi. you squealed, kicking your pillows in excitement, then grabbed your phone to reply.

you: hii asahi! sure, i’m free… you don’t need to worry about picking me up though.

the reply came quickly.

asahi: nah, don’t worry. i’ll come by ;)

the next morning, you found yourself laughing and chatting with nobara, showing her the messages on your phone.

"oh my god," nobara said dramatically, leaning closer to the screen. "he said he'd pick you up? what a true gentleman!"

you giggled, feeling a bit giddy. "i know, right?"

the thing was, you were young, naive, and inexperienced. boys like asahi had been dating and having casual flings since middle school, starting as early as eighth grade. deep down, you probably shouldn't have trusted him so blindly.

"wait, wait, yn! oh my god, close your eyes!" nobara exclaimed suddenly, pulling her phone out.

"why?" you asked, laughing as you obeyed.

"don't peek at my phone," she warned, scrolling frantically through her gallery. "okay, open up!"

you opened your eyes, and there it was—a picture of asahi. but not just any picture. this one showed him shirtless, his abs on full display.

his abs were well-defined, and his face matched—handsome and captivating.

"oh my goodness, i can't unsee this!" you gushed, your cheeks heating up.

"i got it off his instagram feed," nobara said smugly. "how good of a friend am i, right?"

you laughed and nodded, still staring at the image as if it might burn a hole in her phone screen. but then, out of nowhere, your mind betrayed you. instead of asahi, you suddenly pictured megumi in that photo—toned abs, a lean yet well-proportioned figure... wait, what? jesus fucking hell.

you blinked in shock, realizing where your thoughts had wandered. your little brain was conjuring up scenarios you’d never imagined before. why him? you wondered.

though asahi’s physique was undoubtedly athletic, in your mind, megumi’s leaner frame somehow looked better, more effortlessly attractive. you cursed at yourself, shaking your head in frustration.

what’s wrong with me?

you chuckled awkwardly, feeling a bit embarrassed, as nobara sighed dramatically.

"i’ll get going now. i promised maki i’d meet her at the cafeteria. bye, yn! oh, and why don’t you go see asahi? he’s at basketball practice right now," nobara added with a smirk.

you smiled and nodded. yeah, maybe seeing asahi would help get your mind off megumi.

jogging down to the court, you spotted asahi practicing with his team. he looked incredible—playing effortlessly, weaving through his opponents, and landing perfect baskets. his confidence on the court was magnetic, and you couldn’t help but admire him.

as you moved closer, he wiped the sweat from his forehead, his eyes meeting yours. he smiled instantly, making your heart skip a beat.

"guys, i’ll be back in a moment. keep practicing—good game!" asahi called out to his team before walking toward you.

your heart started to race as he approached, chugging a bottle of water. hot. that was all you could think.

"hey, yn. what’s up?" he asked casually, his voice smooth.

you tried to compose yourself, replying in a cute but natural tone, "umm, i’m here to see you."

he raised an eyebrow, a playful smile spreading across his face. "aw, you came to see me? well, how’d i do out there?" he asked, wiping his forehead again.

"you’re really cool, i must admit," you said, smiling as you gave his shoulder a light pat.

he let out a playful scoff. "pretty cool? i’m the captain of the team, miss. you’re really hard to impress, aren’t you?"

you could feel your heart flutter again—or maybe it was the thrill of this new kind of attention. whatever it was, it was exciting, unfamiliar, and intoxicating.

what you didn’t realize, though, was just how much others admired you. you always thought guys weren’t that into you, but the reality was far from it. you were different, and maybe that’s why someone like megumi cherished you so much.

"oi, asahi, come back in two!" one of his teammates called out.

asahi nodded and turned to you with a smile. "well, i gotta run," he said, glancing back at the court. then, almost as an afterthought, he added, "don’t forget—5 o’clock. i’ll come pick you up."

before you could reply, he reached for your hand and kissed it gently.

you froze.

it wasn’t that you didn’t know how to handle yourself in normal situations—it’s just that this was not normal. your brain short-circuited as you stood there, watching him jog back to the court. you were so stunned that you didn’t notice the soccer ball flying toward you from the opposite end of the field.

it was only when the ball was dangerously close that you realized what was happening. you dramatically thought, this is it. my time has come. the end is near.

but the impact never came.

something—or rather, someone—stopped the ball.

megumi.

he was standing right next to you, the ball in one hand, his body positioned between you and the potential danger. his expression was as unreadable as ever—calm, stoic, but commanding in a way that made you feel oddly safe.

"umm..." you began, but before you could say more, megumi turned his attention to the kid who’d come running over, clearly flustered.

"watch where you kick the ball," megumi said flatly, his voice firm but not overly harsh.

the kid stammered an apology, but megumi didn’t dwell on it. Instead, he tossed the ball into the air and kicked it back across the field with precise force. the movement was smooth, powerful, and, dare you think it, hot.

you mentally slapped yourself. seriously? what’s wrong with me today?

maybe it was the hormones, or maybe it was the fact that everything megumi did lately seemed to stand out to you in a way it never had before. you caught yourself wondering how strong he really was—something you never paid attention to before.

then, you remembered the start of the school term when megumi had effortlessly lifted you off the ground during some chaotic moment. at the time, you hadn’t thought much of it. but now? if that happened again, you’d probably lose your mind.

"umm, thanks," you mumbled, avoiding his gaze—not because you didn’t want to look at him, but because your cheeks were burning red.

megumi didn’t look at you either. "you’re welcome, i guess," he said. then, after a brief pause, he added, "try not to be a fool next time. keep your eyes opened idiot."

he cares. you couldn’t help but mentally dance at the thought, even though you knew he wouldn’t show any further emotion.

"well, what are you doing here?" you asked hesitantly.

he chuckled, and it sounded… odd. exhausted, perhaps, but there was something different about it. "i thought we’d stopped bugging each other," he replied.

"it’s not like that," you quickly cut him off. "megumi, I didn’t mean it that way."

"then what?" he shot back. "all the times i tried to apologize, and you didn’t even care."

"apologize? excuse me? that was your version of apologizing?" you snapped. "i told you we needed a break from being friends, and you didn’t even try to approach me. you just gave up and started acting indifferent."

"you’re the one going on a date with some random guy now," he muttered, almost to himself. his expression twisted slightly, and you realized he hadn’t meant to say that out loud.

"why would you bring that up now?" you asked, scoffing. "if you’re so into not poking your nose into other people’s business, maybe you should start with yourself."

megumi rolled his eyes. "i don’t want to argue anymore," he said with a sigh.

"you’re the one who started it," you retorted.

both of you fell silent as the basketball team finished their practice and began heading off the court. neither of you said anything, instead looking away and sighing in unison.

just then, asahi approached you, flashing his signature grin. "remember, yn. 5 pm," he said with a wink.

you blushed furiously, giggling at his playful tone.

megumi, however, stared daggers at asahi’s retreating back as though he could burn a hole right through him. "what was that all about?" he asked coldly.

"i thought you wouldn’t—" you began, but megumi cut you off.

"no. just tell me." his voice was steady, but you could sense a strange concern behind it.

you gave in. "well… he’s the one i’m going on a date with," you admitted hesitantly.

for a split second, you thought you saw megumi’s face drop. but the moment passed quickly, and his usual ice-cold demeanor returned. maybe he wasn’t affected. but deep down, a part of you wanted him to feel jealous.

"well, good for you," he said, his tone indifferent.

but then he paused, as if something had just occurred to him. "wait. what about our meeting at 5 pm today?"

oh. you’d completely forgotten. between thinking about asahi all day and getting lost in your thoughts, you hadn’t remembered the plans you’d already made with megumi before agreeing to meet asahi.

"i… i won’t be able to make it," you admitted reluctantly. "i only said yes to you for formality’s sake. i already agreed to meet asahi first, and i can’t cancel on him—"

you lied.

megumi sighed sharply, cutting you off. "of course you can’t. enjoy."

before you could say anything else, he turned and walked away. his expression was unreadable, and there wasn’t even a hint of disappointment on his face.

but you wanted there to be. you wanted him to feel something—jealousy, sadness, anything.

and then it hit you. why did you want him to feel that way? unless… no. that wasn’t possible. was it?

you shook your head, trying to brush off the thought. megumi was your best friend—or, at least, he used to be. that was in the past now. or so you told yourself.

evening came, and you couldn’t help but feel a pang of guilt settling in your chest. why am i doing this? am i hurting megumi? you wondered. but then again, he hadn’t shown any sign of being upset. he didn’t seem sad at all—maybe you were just overthinking.

you got dressed for your first date, opting for a cropped top that was just shy of being see-through. paired with baggy cargo jeans and some matching accessories, you looked cute—really cute, you had to admit. the only problem was the makeup. inexperienced and clueless, you turned to youtube tutorials for help.

"stupid mascara… ugh," you groaned as you struggled to get it just right. after thirty long minutes of trial and error, you finally managed to finish. the makeup was minimal but far more than what you usually wore. at least you didn’t look like a demon—you silently thanked the heavens for that.

when the clock struck the hour, you found yourself waiting at the nearby bus stop, where asahi had agreed to pick you up. He had a car. he had a license. he’s so cool, you thought to yourself.

just then, a sleek maserati pulled up right in front of you. he’s rich too? you thought in disbelief.

"yn, hi," he greeted you, his tone cheerful and confident. he exuded a cool and effortless charm, dressed in an oversized hoodie and casual pants. somehow, he managed to strike the perfect balance between not overdressing and not underdressing.

he stepped out of the car, opened the door for you, and extended his hand. blushing, you took it and got in.

the ride to the theater was fun—filled with lighthearted conversation about the movie and playful banter. before you knew it, you had arrived just in time, popcorn and soda in hand, ready for the film.

meanwhile, megumi was sitting in a café with the other students, working on the group project. he looked composed, as he usually did—calm and collected, the image of focus.

or so it seemed.

inside, his thoughts were anything but composed. the idea of you spending time with another guy, especially someone like asahi, made his blood boil. it’s nothing, he tried to convince himself. just brotherly feelings, that’s all.

this was the second time megumi realized how terrible he was at lying to himself.

the mental image of your soft, plump lips on asahi’s made his jaw tighten. his grip on his pen stiffened. what if he’s just using her? he wondered. what if she’s in danger? the thoughts raced through his mind relentlessly.

maybe i'm overthinking… but then, his mind conjured up something that made his pulse quicken: he imagined himself in asahi’s place, leaning in and kissing you instead.

damn it, he cursed under his breath. stupid teenage hormones. fuck them.

he shook his head, trying to banish the thought. no, this couldn’t happen. it didn’t matter if his feelings were “brotherly” or something else entirely. all he knew was that he had an overwhelming urge to storm into the theater, pull asahi away from you, and take you somewhere far away from him.

to megumi, you were still innocent—too kind, too naive to see through someone like asahi. he told himself it was concern for your well-being, nothing more. but deep down, even he wasn’t sure anymore.

his hand hovered over his phone, tempted to message you and cancel the meeting right now and run straight to you. no, he thought, clenching his fist. but the thought of you with asahi lingered, gnawing at him, making it impossible to focus on anything else.

asahi and you were completely engrossed in the movie. as you reached for the popcorn, you felt a pair of fingers brush against yours. ah, yes—you were sharing the same basket of popcorn. it felt so fitting, like a classic movie moment come to life.

both of you turned your heads at the same time, your eyes meeting. maybe you had done it on purpose, hoping for this exact moment. asahi's gaze lingered on yours, and you felt a blush rise to your cheeks.

"so, how’s it?" he asked, his voice warm and casual. the glow of the screen flickered in your eyes as you sat there, caught mid-bite with a mouthful of popcorn.

"umm, the popcorn? it’s buttery, but it could use some salt," you replied, earning a soft chuckle from him. ah, that laugh—it sent a flutter through your chest.

"no, silly. i meant the movie," he said, grinning as he casually draped an arm over your shoulders.

you laughed awkwardly, feeling the heat of embarrassment creep over you. "haha, yeah, i knew that," you said, trying to play it off. "it’s good."

"hmm," he whispered softly, leaning in closer. you could feel it—the heat between you. then, with one hand, he gently tilted your face toward him. oh no, he was going to kiss you. you had never done this before—at least, not with an actual person. your plushies and pillows had been your only practice partners, and even they wouldn’t prepare you for this.

as you leaned in as well, closing your eyes, the lights in the theater suddenly turned on, and people began getting up to leave. the movie was over. how embarrassing. asahi chuckled at your flustered state, his warm laugh making your cheeks burn even more.

"maybe next time," he muttered to himself, his voice almost teasing. you stood there awkwardly, unsure of what to do, when he suddenly got a notification on his phone.

"well, i gotta run to the washroom. i'll be quick, okay? wait for me outside," he said with a smile, squeezing your hand before heading off. you nodded and walked out of the theater.

the cold air outside hit you instantly, making you regret wearing just a crop top. the clouds had taken over the sky, dark and heavy, and it looked like it could rain any moment now. you stood there, replaying the events of the day in your head. it had been your first date—and asahi was perfect. just like someone straight out of a movie. but it had all felt almost too perfect, like it wasn’t quite real. the only thing missing had been the kiss, which was sadly interrupted. you couldn’t help but blush at the memory.

when you glanced at your phone, you realized it had already been ten minutes since asahi went to the bathroom. you weren’t trying to be impatient, but you wondered what was taking him so long. a knot of worry formed in your stomach. deciding to check, you headed toward the bathrooms.

what you saw froze you in place. there, just outside the bathroom, was asahi—kissing another girl.

you blinked, hoping you were imagining it, but no. it was real. his lips were on hers, his hands resting on her waist. there was no mistaking it. it wasn’t the movie-like moment you had hoped for—it was a nightmare.

your chest tightened as tears began to prick your eyes. you wanted to scream at him, to demand an explanation, to ask if you weren’t good enough. but no. he didn’t deserve that from you. you had something he clearly lacked—self-respect and pride. so, instead of confronting him, you turned and walked away.

but the tears wouldn’t stop. they rolled down your cheeks, hot and uncontrollable, as you replayed what you had just seen. your heart ached with betrayal. were all boys like this? trash?

no. not all boys. you thought of megumi. he’d never do something like this. he’d never hurt you like this. suddenly, you felt the overwhelming urge to go to him. to tell him you were wrong. to tell him you wanted him—not just as a friend, but as something more.

but how could you? after everything you’d said to him, after how you’d pushed him away? he probably wouldn’t even look at you now. that thought made the pain in your chest feel even heavier.

ha, how ironic, you thought. your first date and heartbreak on the same day. why did all this happen to you? you had been too naive to trust asahi. he was a playboy, and he played you. the one thing you had looked forward to was now the thing you dreaded. you didn’t want to date anymore; you didn’t even want to see anyone again. it had started raining, and you were running. where? you didn’t know. just running, hoping to disappear, to escape from everything and everyone.

megumi was done with the project work and had closed everything off. luckily, you had left your location services on. feeling an urge to check where you were, he opened the app, and to his surprise, you weren’t at home or the theater. you were somewhere in the middle of town.

"what the heck?" he mumbled, grabbing his jacket and bag before running out the door. he knew where you’d go. whenever you got sad, you always ran to the park downtown. his intuition told him something was wrong. not that he wanted to jinx it, but maybe he’d already called it.

he ran through the rain without an umbrella, his clothes getting soaked, until he finally caught sight of you. you were kneeling down on the wet ground, crying. he rushed over to you.

"hey, y/n, what happened?" he asked, concern clear in his voice.

the moment you heard his voice, you recognized it. your red and puffy eyes blurred your vision, but you didn’t care. you stood up and threw yourself into megumi’s arms, your face pressed against his chest. he held you closer, his warmth shielding you from the cold rain.

"what happened? tell me," he said gently, his voice calm though worry was evident.

tears were rolling down your cheeks, hot and uncontrollable.

"hic—uh… asahi… h-he hic… k-kissed… another g-g... girl..." your words barely made sense, but megumi understood.

"it's alright, idiot. stop crying," he said softly, his hand gently brushing away your tears. but inside, his anger was rising. he wanted to do something, anything, to wipe that smug look off asahi’s face. he wasn’t as calm as he usually was anymore. his protective instincts kicked in, and all he wanted was to make asahi regret hurting you.

you took a few seconds to calm down, still whimpering and hiccuping as megumi rubbed your back soothingly. he was there—always. no matter what, he stayed by your side, and deep down, you knew he always would.

suddenly, a pang of guilt hit you. you had hurt him.

"umm, m-megumi, well, i-i wanted to say sorry," you said, looking up into his eyes. they glimmered in the faint moonlight, his figure shielding you from the rain. his eyes softened as he met your gaze.

"sorry? why?" he asked, though you knew he understood.

"w-well, i was wrong," you began, your voice trembling. "i was selfish and inconsiderate, for both of us. i was just desperate to get myself a boyfriend… and look at how i ended up." tears threatened to spill again, but megumi hushed you, gently placing a finger on your lips.

"you little idiot," he said, his tone affectionate despite the words. "don’t you understand? sure, if you hung out with me, you probably wouldn’t get one. but… i think it’s my fault too. i didn’t give you enough space to breathe either. though…" he hesitated, a faint curse escaping under his breath. "no matter what, i’d hate to see you date someone else."

his words hung in the air. his eyes widened slightly, realizing what he’d just said out loud.

"what?" you asked, stunned, your eyes wide with surprise.

"never mind," he mumbled quickly, shaking his head. "i meant i’d be sad if you left me alone, that’s all. are you seriously so dumb that your mind clings to stuff like that?"

you laughed softly, the sound light and genuine despite everything, and pulled him into another hug. with megumi, you felt safe. you felt… okay. asahi didn’t matter anymore, and you realized it now.

you let yourself sink into the moment, listening to the gentle pitter-patter of the rain. the two of you were drenched, but neither of you seemed to care. the sound of water sliding down rooftops, trickling from the playground slide, and pooling in puddles filled the air.

then you noticed something else: your heartbeat. it was fast. thump-thump. had it always been this fast? no, it felt different. abnormal, even. but it couldn’t have anything to do with megumi, of course not. it had to be everything you’d been through tonight… obviously.

but then you caught the scent of his cologne. it was fresh, like dewy mist, and you couldn’t help but lean in a little closer, inhaling it deeply. wait. what was that?

you felt something in your stomach. a flutter. you blinked. parasites? you thought to yourself, trying to rationalize it. it’s definitely not butterflies. no, it couldn’t be. of course not.

you just hoped you were right—because the last thing you wanted now was to fall for your best friend.

megumi broke the hug and stepped back. "i think if you’re done, maybe we should go. and seriously, what the heck, we’re completely drenched," he said, glancing down at his soaked clothes. "my clothes are totally ruined now."

without waiting for a response, he grabbed your hand and started running. you followed, your feet splashing through puddles.

"where are we going?" you asked as he suddenly stopped, looking around.

"let’s just find some shelter and call a taxi," he replied. but then his eyes landed somewhere they really shouldn’t have, and he cursed the heavens.

you were wearing a thin, nearly see-through crop top that had clung to your skin in the rain. megumi swallowed hard and looked away immediately, his jaw tightening as he tried to stay composed. okay, this is normal. i’m a teenage boy too, he thought, though the pink flush creeping up his face betrayed him.

he was thankful, at least, that you were completely oblivious. thank god, he thought.

"cover up, you idiot," megumi said, his tone sharper than intended, but his voice still flustered.

"huh?" you asked, tilting your head in confusion, still unaware of the situation. megumi sighed, grumbling under his breath. why can’t she just read the room? he thought.

he swung his bag off his shoulder and tossed it to you. "here, use this. just—cover up."

you did as he said, though you still seemed confused. megumi let out another sigh, shrugged off his jacket, and draped it over both of you, shielding you from the rain.

you smiled up at him then—a bright, genuine smile. it was the kind of smile that could probably make any guy melt. but megumi wasn’t any guy. at least, that’s what he told himself.

until now.

seeing that smile made his cheeks flush even deeper, and he had to look away, cursing under his breath. damn. just hormones. nothing else, he told himself, trying to stay rational.

but then another thought slipped in, unbidden. why does she have to look so adorable... and hot? at the same time? he frowned, questioning his sanity.

fuck fuck fuck.

best friends. just best friends, he repeated to himself like a mantra, desperate to believe it.

but the truth was harder to ignore now. this was the third time something about you had struck a chord deep inside him.

megumi wished he was better at lying to himself.

after a while of waiting, you got into a taxi with megumi. "so, we’ll just head home now?" he asked, glancing at you. you nodded but hesitated for a moment before speaking.

"yeah, about that… my parents are out of town, and i-i was gonna be alone, so i wondered if i could bunk with you tonight? for old times’ sake?" you asked, your voice unsure but hopeful.

for old times’ sake? sure. but for his own sanity’s sake? absolutely not, megumi thought.

"yeah, works," he said, trying to sound casual. but deep down, he knew this was going to test every ounce of self-control he had.

the ride to his house was short, and as you sat in silence, you started reflecting on how the night had turned out. it had been such a mess, yet here you were, feeling strangely okay.

you glanced at your phone, which was still on do not disturb, and weren’t surprised to see 13 missed calls from asahi. you shrugged and sighed, shaking your head. none of that mattered now.

no one was home at megumi’s place either. the realization that you were both alone together made your stomach twist and turn, though you didn’t quite understand why. his sister, tsumiki, had a school function and was out of town as well.

"well, come in," megumi said, hanging the keys on the rack. the sound of the keys jingling filled the otherwise quiet house as you took off your shoes and stepped inside.

the place felt so familiar, as it always had. you’d been coming here for the past twelve years of your life. it was like a second home.

the two of you headed upstairs to his bedroom. as expected, it was neat and tidy, just like megumi always kept it.

"i think you should take a bath and change into something..." he said, rummaging through his closet. after a moment, he pulled out a hoodie and a pair of shorts. "...there you go," he added, tossing them to you.

you caught the clothes and stared at them for a moment. and then it hit you. this is exactly like one of those cliché book plots, you thought. the one where the girl has no spare clothes, so the guy lends her his.

while you were lost in your thoughts, megumi was having his own internal struggle. how cute would she look in my clothes? the thought slipped into his mind before he could stop it, and his cheeks turned pink.

both of you glanced at each other briefly, the blush on your faces obvious, before quickly looking away. completely oblivious to what the other was thinking, you stood there, awkward and flustered, two idiots caught in your own spiraling thoughts.

not even god could save the two of you from this moment. as much as you both hated the idea of picturing each other together, neither of you could completely deny the thought anymore.

you had taken a bath and were now sitting on the edge of the bed, towel-drying your hair while waiting for megumi. that was when he walked out of the bathroom.

uh oh.

he wasn’t wearing a shirt—just a pair of shorts, with a towel slung lazily over his shoulders. you froze for a moment, and before you could stop yourself, you realized you were checking him out. great, just great, you thought, internally screaming.

he rubbed the towel through his hair, his raven-black locks spiking in every direction, just the way they always did. only now, for some reason, you couldn’t help but notice how much you wanted to run your hands through it.

your gaze drifted lower—bad idea.

his abs were exactly how you had imagined they’d be. toned, well-defined, and everything else you shouldn’t have been thinking about right now. his frame wasn’t bulky or overly muscular, but lean and athletic, which somehow made him look even hotter.

you felt a wave of embarrassment wash over you as you realized what you were doing. god, i’m disgusting. i’m a total freak, you thought, your cheeks burning.

still, no matter how hard you tried to look away, you couldn’t deny it. megumi looked… hot. and that was a problem you weren’t ready to face.

fuck it, am i in love with my bestfriend? you thought. ofcourse not, it's just some sort of a physical attraction that anyone my age would experience.

megumi glanced at you as you sat on the edge of the bed, still busy drying your hair. your damp strands clung to your face, droplets of water sliding down your skin. you weren’t even trying, but somehow you were driving him insane.

his mind short-circuited at that moment, and before he could think, he acted. something inside him snapped, or maybe it was always there, buried beneath layers of self-control. whatever it was, it was enough to make him forget himself.

he stood and walked over to you. you looked up at him, confused. "what?" you asked, your voice curious. "is there something—"

you didn’t get to finish. his hands were on you, pulling you close, and suddenly, his lips were on yours. your eyes widened in shock. megumi just kissed you.

but the real surprise wasn’t that—it was the fact that you didn’t pull away. instead, you kissed him back, meeting his lips with the same passion he gave you. this was your first kiss, and yet, it didn’t feel awkward or clumsy. no, it was perfect. megumi moved with a deliberate slowness, his lips guiding yours like he had done this a thousand times before.

you felt the bed beneath you as he gently pushed you down. his hand slid into yours, pinning it above your head, while the other rested firmly on your waist. everything about the moment felt intense, like the world outside had stopped spinning. you finally understood what those movie scenes meant when the girl’s problems melted away with the perfect kiss. because that’s exactly what was happening. everything—your heartbreak, your doubts—everything faded into nothing.

but then, reality hit you. no. i’m kissing my best friend.

you both pulled away at the same time, your breaths labored, your faces flushed. the realization of the position you were in hit megumi immediately—you, beneath him, your hair splayed out across the bed. and god, you looked good like that. stop, he told himself, forcing the thought away as he climbed off you, running a hand through his hair and fixing his shorts.

shit shit fucking hell you doof.

she’s going to think i’m a pervert, megumi thought, mortified. i messed up. i messed up big time.

on the other hand, your thoughts were spiraling in a completely different direction. oh no. i forced him into this. he didn’t even want this. you cursed at yourself, guilt weighing heavy on your chest.

the two of you sat on opposite sides of the bed, the silence stretching on for what felt like hours. ten minutes passed, the room filled with nothing but the sound of your breaths as both of you tried to make sense of what had just happened.

"i—" you both started at the same time before cutting yourselves off.

"no, you go first," you said in unison again, your eyes briefly meeting before you both looked away, cheeks burning.

megumi cleared his throat and started. "i… i didn’t mean to. i was just… you know…" his voice trailed off, unsure of how to explain himself.

you nodded quickly, even though you didn’t understand a thing. "y-yeah. me too. it was totally accidental, and i get it. i understand."

but neither of you did. not really.

the silence returned, this time even heavier than before.

"so, uh, yn… you take the bed, and i’ll go sleep on the couch downstairs," megumi said finally, his voice stiff, his eyes avoiding yours entirely.

"yeah, yeah, sure," you said, nodding like an idiot.

he grabbed a pillow and a blanket from his bed and headed for the door, his movements quick and deliberate. he didn’t even glance back at you as he closed the door behind him.

as soon as he was gone, you cursed at yourself, sinking back onto the bed. what the hell did i just do? this is going to be so awkward from now on. megumi probably hates me now.

you stood up and walked to the door, resting your back against it before sliding down to the floor. you hugged your knees to your chest, resting your head on them as your mind raced. he completely has no feelings for me. and i… i don’t have any for him either. right?

on the other side of the door, megumi was sitting in the exact same position as you, his back against the wood, his head buried in his hands.

what have i just done? am i out of my mind? he thought, guilt and frustration swirling inside him.

maybe you were both wrong. or maybe you weren’t.

(umm yeah so that's it i guess? i'm sorry but yeah. i love em though like who's gonna tell them erm..)

lmk if ya'll wanna get tagged for the second part which i'll publish prolly<3

#jjk #megumi fushiguro #jjk megumi #megumi x reader #megumi fushiguro x reader #jjk x reader #jjk x you #megumi x you #megumi fluff #fluff #megumi x y/n #jujutsu kaisen megumi #jujutsu kaisen #jujustsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu megumi

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lostfracturess · 8 days ago

Text

symptoms and causes | ch. 16

pairing — professor gojo x med student reader

summary — he's arrogant, self-centered, and he's your professor. renowned for his brilliance in neurosurgery and infamous for his allure. too bad you have to work with him on this research team. now you're stuck with dr. satoru gojo, delving into the complexities of both the brain and the heart — and of how far you'd go for a love that could destroy not only him but you as well.

word count — 11.5 k

warnings — 18+ ONLY. contains explicit sexual content, substance and alcohol abuse, dark themes, unhealthy relationships, codependency, trauma, medical content and mentions of death, illness, abuse, and blood. full trigger warnings available on the masterlist. reader discretion is advised.

previously — unable to watch satoru turn to his abusive family for help with naoya's massive lawsuit, you're heading to his party against satoru's wishes, hoping to find something, anything, that might help his situation. but what happens when satoru decides to crash the party? and what will you find in that locked room?

author's note — hello lovelies, welcome back !! this chapter picks up right where we left off, but through satoru's eyes this time. also important note: this chapter contains a brief mention of SA concerning a background event not related to any of our main characters. as always, please mind all trigger warnings. and now enjoy the chaos <3

series masterlist + playlist + ao3 + wattpad

<- prev chapter | next chapter ->

I saw her the moment I stepped into that goddamn party, and everything inside me went still.

Like that moment right before you drown, when the water first fills your lungs and the world goes quiet. Terrifying and so still.

She stood there under those cheap neon lights, looking scared and yet so beautiful—beautiful in that terrible way that makes you want to destroy something, that makes you want to tear it apart just to prove it's real.

Every fiber of my being screamed to go to her, to grab her and get her the hell out of here. Away from this place, away from him, away from all of it.

But I couldn't move. Couldn't let the mask slip, not here, not with all these eyes on me. So I plastered on that easy smile and played the part of the mildly annoyed professor who just happened to crash a student party.

As if my skin wasn't crawling with the need to use again, veins begging for something—anything—to take the edge off. As if the mere sight of her didn't make me feel like someone had reached into my chest and ripped my fucking heart out, her next breath away from something I might regret.

She looked up at me with those pretty eyes of hers, and I saw the guilt there, swimming just beneath the surface. And for one horrible moment I thought, Good. Let it pull her under like it's pulling me. Let it fill her lungs the way fear is filling mine.

I almost hated her then — for lying to me again and again, for doing stupid things behind my back again and again, for making me feel this goddamn helpless again and again and again and fucking again.

But what lay beneath was worse. Because I knew why she was here. Always trying to save me, even if it meant throwing herself into the deep end, drowning right alongside me. And that's the worst kind of torture, isn't it?

Watching the person you love cut themselves open on all your broken pieces, bleeding themselves dry, yet still reaching for more. And that thought made me want to scream.

"We'll talk about this later," I said, forcing that easy smile back onto my face though everything inside me was screaming to get her out of this goddamn house before she got herself into more trouble. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I think I need a drink."

I pushed past her, shoulder grazing hers, and I had to clench my fists to keep from turning back. Had to bite my tongue until I tasted blood to keep from saying something I couldn't take back. She had no idea what she did to me. Or maybe she did, and that was even worse.

Love and hate tangled together in my chest until I couldn't breathe. Because that's what she does to me — makes me feel everything at once, until I can't tell what's real anymore. Until I can't tell if I want to love her or ruin her. Until I can't remember which one would hurt more. Who I was before her. If I was anyone at all.

And it hit me then, as I left her standing there, all defiance and reckless stupidity and so unbearably precious it physically hurt—this must be what they mean when they say love and hate are two sides of the same coin. Because I loved her so much it felt like hatred. Hated her so deeply it could only be love.

Always on the razor's edge. One wrong step, and we'd both bleed out. Maybe we already were.

When was the last time I even went to a party like this anyway? Years ago, probably. Back when I could still pretend I had my shit together. Before I understood what it meant to love someone so consuming that self-destruction became a form of worship.

I needed a drink. Maybe ten. Maybe something stronger.

Bass thundered through the floorboards as I shouldered my way deeper into the house, some shitty pop track slamming in my skull. Or maybe that was just the rage still burning in my bloodstream.

Sweaty bodies pressed in on all sides, but I barely noticed, lost in the chaos raging in my head. Lost in the desperate need scratching at my throat to turn back, to find her, to make sure she hadn't slipped away like every other good thing in my life.

I ordered vodka. First sip burned, but not enough. Never enough to wash away the fear, to forget that she was here, in this house, with him. The same bastard who'd tried to—My grip tightened on the glass. Yeah. Definitely needed something stronger. Here's hoping these kids still remember how to party.

"Professor Gojo! No way!"

A group of my students appeared beside me at the bar, their faces flushed with alcohol. Aoi, of course—that kid was everywhere. And Miwa, looking starstruck as always. Just my fucking luck.

"Is this what you all do instead of studying for my exams?" I asked, letting that easy smile slide into place.

"Come on, Prof, we've been killing ourselves over your damned hard exams," Miwa chimed in, all bright eyes and alcohol courage. "We deserve a break."

I let myself slip into the familiar role. The cool professor. The guy everyone wants to hang with. It was easier than I expected, letting their drunken energy wash over me, cracking jokes, making them laugh. Almost enough to wash out the withdrawal that made it nearly impossible to think straight. Almost enough to forget why I was really here. Almost.

Aoi was rambling about something, but I wasn't listening. Instead, I turned slightly, catching her gaze across the room. She looked at me like she wanted to kill me. Funny, how we wanted the same thing sometimes.

My woman. My stubborn, reckless, absolutely infuriating woman. Even now, with me watching her from across the room, I could see that defiance bright in her eyes. Even now, even here, in defiance of everything I'd asked of her, she stood her ground.

It was admirable, really. And sometimes, that very defiance made me want to break her. Perhaps only to prove I could. To prove she wasn't in control. Perhaps because I was terrified that I wasn't. That I never was.

It's terrifying how thin that line is.

"See? Fucking legend!" Aoi raised his beer, at something I said, I think. I can't remember. Something clever, probably. Something that fits the role. "To the coolest professor on campus!"

I raised my glass, I think. I can't remember. And that's when I caught sight of them by the front entrance. Suguru walked up to her, still standing where I'd left her, and cradled her face in his hands, tilting it up to meet his gaze. My god, could he be any more obvious about it?

I knew that look in his eyes. Had seen it countless times before, during all those long hours in the lab when he thought I wasn't paying attention. The way he'd lean in close to check her work, his hand lingering on her shoulder a moment too long. The way his eyes would follow her every move.

My best friend, in love with the love of my life. What a sick fucking joke.

He was examining her face now, probably making sure she was alright, being the good, caring friend he always was. His thumb brushed across her cheek, and something violent stirred in my gut. Because she didn't pull away. Of course she didn't. She never did, not with him.

They looked good together, standing there in the dim light. The brilliant researcher and his gifted student. No addiction between them. No sharp edges that sliced you open if you got too close. And I hated that.

I watched as she placed her hand over his, the gesture unbearably tender. Watched as he smiled down at her, that gentle smile he reserved only for her.

And just for a moment — one single, agonizing moment — I let myself picture a world where I hadn't reached her first. Where she'd chosen him instead. The better man. The one who'd never drag her down into his own personal hell.

The thoughts spiraled darker, louder, until I could barely breathe through the noise. Glass creaked under my grip. I needed a fucking pill. Needed something, anything, to make this stop. To make everything just fucking stop.

"Professor?" Miwa’s voice. "You okay?"

More students crowded the bar, blocking my view of them. One of them—what was his name? Third-year, not a complete idiot—shoved another beer into my hand. I chugged it in one long pull, their chatter fading to background noise.

"Well." That voice. That fucking voice. "Look who decided to crash my party after all."

I turned, meeting Naoya's scarred face with a smile that was all teeth and no warmth. "Zenin. Quite the gathering you've got here."

"Indeed." He signaled the bartender. "I gotta say though, I'm surprised to see you here, Professor. Don't tell me you're playing chaperone tonight?"

His words stripped away any pretense. He knew. Of course he fucking knew why I was really here. Not that I'd been particularly subtle about it.

"Just felt like reliving my youth," I said, taking the drink he offered. Anything to keep my hands busy, to keep myself from finishing what I'd started with his face.

Zenin's smirk widened, the scars pulling his flesh into something even uglier. "Ah yes, the good old days. Back when teachers knew their place and didn't go around screwing their students."

The fake smile slid off my face, the glass creaking in my grip as I pictured how easily his windpipe would crumple under my hands. How satisfying it would be to watch that smirk disappear for good.

"Careful, Zenin. Your face is already fucked up enough as is. Would be a damn shame if something happened to what's left of it."

He laughed, the sound grating on my last nerve like nails on a chalkboard. "Always so protective. But tell me, Professor, does she know the real reason you're here? Does she know about the—"

"Enough," I bit out.

"Oh, did I hit a nerve?" His eyes flicked across the room, landing on her. The way he looked at her made my vision bleed red around the edges. "She really is something else, isn't she? Too bad I didn't get a chance to get her alone that night—"

My hand lashed out before I could think, fisting in his collar. The fabric bunched in my grip as I hauled him close enough to see my own fury reflected in his eyes. "You fucking—"

Then Suguru was there, his hand slamming down on the bar between us. Silent, steady—a wall between me and a one-way ticket to unemployment. He didn't say a word, just fixed me with that look. The one I'd explicitly asked for earlier. Stop me before I do something I'll regret.

Fuck, I was really starting to regret that request right about now.

Then I felt her—her touch impossibly gentle as she laid her hand on my bicep, the heat of her skin seeping through my shirt. She leaned in close, "Satoru, can we talk for a minute?"

Her soft plea sliced through the haze, and suddenly I became acutely aware of the deafening silence that had fallen over the room, of the countless eyes boring into us.

I uncurled my fingers from Naoya's collar one by one, even though everything in me screamed to finish what I'd started. To paint the walls with whatever was left of his face. But I couldn't. We both knew. So I stepped back and followed her.

─── ·✧· ───

She led me through the crowd, her fingers still wrapped so gently around my arm. We pushed our way past the prying eyes, down a hallway, until she found what looked like an empty office. Probably belonged to Naoya's father, judging by the dark wood and that rich people smell.

For a moment, we just stood there, neither of us willing to shatter the fragile silence. Moonlight sliced through the blinds, turning everything silver and strange, like we were underwater. Maybe we were. I wasn't sure anymore. Her hand slipped from my arm, and suddenly I felt cold.

I collapsed into the chair behind the desk, the leather groaning under my weight. She stood silhouetted at the window, arms wrapped tight around herself, and I had to look away. Had to focus on something else, because I knew one glance at those eyes and I'd break.

My fingers found the pill on their own. Out of habit, really. Without thinking, I snatched up the silver letter opener next to me and crushed the pill beneath it, watching the powder scatter across the polished wood like fresh snow. I bent down and let the burn fill my nose, sear through my brain, numbing everything in an instant.

When I looked up, she was staring. Always fucking staring, with eyes that flayed me to the bone. And she did it so effortlessly. Saw through everyone around her with that unnerving precision. Or maybe she saw through everything so clearly because she looked for the very things she wanted to hide from others.

"That's new," she said. Not an accusation. I was glad it wasn't.

"It's faster."

I averted my gaze and sank deeper into the chair, letting my head fall back against the headrest as warmth flooded my veins and the ceiling blurred and shifted above me. And then everything went soft around the edges, like looking through frosted glass.

A long exhale escaped my lips. Finally—fucking finally—the constant noise in my head, all that shit I can't shut up—the love, the hate, the fucking terror of it all—it faded to a whisper. The world got a little quieter, a little less sharp. A little more bearable.

For one perfect moment, I could actually breathe. Could almost convince myself I was in control. That this wasn't killing me. That I could walk away if I had to. That I wasn't fucking terrified of losing her. Of becoming him. Of everything.

I groaned, fingers raking through my hair, pulling, needing the pain. My hands were shaking again. Or maybe they never stopped. I couldn't tell anymore.

"You're angry," she said.

"No shit. What gave it away?" I scrubbed my hands over my face. "You showing up here after I specifically fucking told you not to? Or me nearly rearranging Zenin's face again?"

"Satoru—"

"Don't." I squeezed my eyes shut, fingers yanking at my hair again, trembling worse now. From the drugs, the rage, the fear, who the fuck knew. It all bled together these days. "You have no idea what he'd do. If something happened—" I stopped. Couldn’t continue.

"I'm not alone," she said, like that made a difference. "Maki, Yuta, Toge—they're all with me. We're being careful."

"Careful?" I sat upright, forcing myself to meet her gaze. "There's nothing fucking careful about this! It's reckless! You shouldn't even be—"

"I'm doing this for you—"

"Don't." I cut her off. "Don't make this about me."

"But it is!" She stepped closer, eyes blazing. "What, you expect me to just stand by and watch? While you fall apart?"

"This isn't your problem to fix—"

"Like hell it isn't!" Another step. Her eyes seared into mine. "I can't fucking take it anymore. You're in this mess because of me. Because you protected me that night. So don't you dare tell me this isn't my problem to fix."

I stared at her, something in my chest fracturing. "You think that's why I'm doing this? Because I feel obligated?"

"I think you're trying to protect me, like you always do."

"Then don't make me protect you all the goddamn time!" I shoved up from the chair and braced my hands on the desk. "I beat him within an inch of his life that night. I would've killed him if—" My throat closed around the words. "And I'd do it again. In a fucking heartbeat. That's what scares the shit out of me. What I become when it comes to you."

She went still.

"And if he hurt you again," the words scraped out of me, "I—I don't know what I'd do. So please. Just please don't make me find out."

I said the words I'd been turning over in my head for what felt like eternity. Don't make me find out, don't put yourself in danger, don't break my fucking heart. Which really meant break me all you want, just don't leave. I wouldn't survive it.

Her gaze dropped briefly to my hands, and she said, "You done?"

Her question threw me. Done? God, this infuriating woman. But then I followed her line of sight and saw my hands clenched into white-knuckled fists around the desk’s edge. I slowly released them, my knuckles cracking in the sudden stillness.

I slumped back into the chair, exhausted, defeated, throwing an arm over my eyes. "God, I fucking hate you." The way she stood there, unflinching, unafraid—it made me insane. "I hate that you make me feel like this—so fucking terrified all the time."

"You don't hate me," she said.

"Sometimes I'm not so sure anymore," I answered.

How does it never get easier, I wondered. Loving her. Needing her. It just cuts deeper, spreads further, until I'm drowning in the ache. Until I can't breathe without feeling it in my lungs. And yeah, I hate her for that sometimes.

I couldn't look at her. I knew she'd be there, unyielding, waiting, enduring everything I threw at her, as she always did. Never breaking. Maybe that's what I hated most.

"You're so fucking stupid," I breathed, but it came out wrong. Too soft. Too much like 'I love you'. Too much like 'Please don't leave.'

"I think that's mutual." She crossed the room then and leaned against the desk, arms folded over her chest. "I'm sorry I lied to you."

I lowered my arm and looked at her. "No, you're not."

"I am sorry for worrying you," she tried again, and I almost believed her, wishing desperately that she'd never have to worry about anything the way I worry about her. "Go ahead, say it. Tell me how stupid I was to come here. I know you're dying to."

"Why would you think that?"

She kept her eyes fixed on the floor. "Because it's true. I make the wrong choice every fucking time."

I watched her, this brilliant, stubborn woman that I love so much, beating herself up over choices that weren't really choices at all—just impossible situations with no right answers. Like there was ever a right answer. And sometimes she reminded me so much of myself. As if I hadn't spent years doing the same thing, and probably still do.

But seeing her do it—it was like staring into a mirror and seeing not just my reflection, but the reflection of everything I hated about myself.

"I think that's mutual," I echoed her words back to her.

With a heavy sigh, I pushed up from the chair, gripping the edge of the desk for a second. Then I reached for her, hands landing on her hips, tugging her close, needing her close. My lips ghosted over hers. Hesitant. Unsure. When she didn't pull away, I kissed her. My hand came up to cradle her face, thumb skimming her cheekbone as I deepened the kiss.

"Alright, what's the plan?" I murmured against her mouth.

She told me about the locked room upstairs and her plan to get it. So calm. She told it so calm. Like it was that simple. Like this wasn't the most insane thing I'd ever heard. But I knew she'd go through with it no matter what I said.

"You seriously think I'm gonna let you anywhere near him with alcohol involved?"

"No," she said. "I think you're going to help me."

"Times like this, I'm really feeling that age difference between us," I said, but we both heard the resignation in my voice. The moment I'd already lost this fight.

"So you'll help?" she asked, ignoring my comment.

Before she could celebrate her victory, I yanked her closer, fingers twisting in her hair. With a sharp tug, I forced her head back until she had no choice but to meet my gaze, her throat bared. Our eyes locked, and I saw the instant her breath hitched.

"On one condition."

"What's that?"

"When we get home, you're gonna make it up to me for all the stress you've caused. Got it?"

"Is that really how you want to play this?"

"Oh, love, I think we're way past propriety at this point."

A shiver ran through her — one that made me almost smile. I could feel her pulse racing beneath my fingertips, could feel the way she melted into me despite herself. It almost made this whole mess worth it.

"Now then." I pulled back just far enough to look her in the eye. "let's have some fun, shall we?"

─── ·✧· ───

So, here's the fun story about how I ended up playing beer pong with my arch-nemesis (besides Sukuna, that is) against my future lovely wife and some chemistry nerd who wouldn't shut up about covalent bonds. Not exactly the Saturday night I had in mind.

I mean, here I was, standing next to Naoya — yeah, the same guy whose face I'd rearranged a few months back — trying to aim at red plastic cups while you were absolutely wiping the floor with us. Turns out that whole '10 years of grief training in alcoholism over your dead father' wasn't just a cute phrase you threw around. Who would've thought?

But really, trying to out-drink an opioid addict? That's like challenging a fish to a swimming contest. Except the fish is in heavy withdrawal. So like, with no fin. Not my finest analogy. I blame the alcohol. What was my point again?

Anyway. Most annoying part? This chemistry department kid with these wide, bright eyes wouldn't stop talking to you about molecular structures. And you were actually entertaining him. At a party. About electron transfers. Of all the insufferable things.

"So if you consider the aromatic compounds—" he was saying, and I swear on my medical license, I didn't mean for the ball to hit him. And I definitely didn't mean for it to hit him that hard. Pure accident, really.

The ball bounced off his shoulder, effectively shutting him up. They both turned to look at me. "Molecular restructuring in organic compounds? Really?" I shrugged. "At a party?"

She shot me that look. You know the one. The classic 'I-can't-believe-I'm-sleeping-with-this-idiot' glare. It's become quite familiar these days.

"Trouble in paradise?" Naoya said beside me, and I briefly considered rearranging his face again. For symmetry's sake, of course.

But then she bent over to pick up the ball, and suddenly organic chemistry was the furthest thing from my mind. I definitely shouldn't have let her leave the house in that skirt. Though knowing her, she probably wore it just to torture me.

"Getting distracted, Professor?" she said, straightening up with that little smile that never fails to make me want to do wildly inappropriate things to her in very public places. She leaned across the table, deliberately tapping one of our cups with her finger, giving me her most innocent eyes. Because apparently, driving me insane was her new favorite pastime.

"Me?" I lifted the red cup she'd tapped to my lips, taking my sweet time with the drink, my eyes never leaving hers. "Never."

And somewhere in the haze of beer and the way she was looking at me, I tried to remember why the hell we were even here. Oh right—something about stealing keys. Real professional operation we've got going here. The medical board would be so proud. Their star surgeon, reduced to playing beer pong as a distraction tactic.

Naoya's keys were right there on the table, practically screaming to be grabbed. But between her legs in that skirt and the way she kept biting her lip every time she lined up a shot, I found myself giving fewer and fewer shits about saving my career and more about how quickly I could get her alone. Priorities. I clearly had them. Alcohol might have scrambled them a bit, I guess.

I caught a glimpse of Suguru standing off to the side of the beer pong table. He was pinching the bridge of his nose, his eyes darting back and forth between me and her like he was watching the world's most stressful tennis match. I really owed him one for putting up with this shit.

Near the chemistry kid, a girl approached who looked a bit like Higurama's intern—though I wasn't entirely sure. She looked different, wearing makeup and dressed up. But that couldn't be her. She'd avoid places with flashing lights because of her epilepsy. I must be seeing things.

Then Naoya, because clearly this shitshow wasn't enough of a disaster already, decided to "level up the process." He snapped his fingers at a passing bartender, and before I could process what the fuck was happening, there was a tray of perfectly lined up tequila shots on the table. Complete with cinnamon and orange slices, because apparently, we're keeping it classy while trying to get my future wife drunk.

"New rule," Naoya announced, his scarred face pulling into what I can only assume was meant to be a grin. "Next shot I sink, you drink both. Beer and tequila."

I glanced over at her, my gut churning. Not from the alcohol—it'd take a hell of a lot more than this to get me there—but from the way she met Naoya's challenge with a nod. That stubborn tilt of her chin that always meant trouble. My palms started to sweat.

Of course, Naoya's ball dropped perfectly into her cup. Because the universe really does have a sick sense of humor.

Watching her reach for both drinks, I found myself wondering what the medical board would be more pissed about — me playing drinking games with students, screwing one of my students, or the fact that I was seriously considering murder. Again.

Then, by some physics-defying miracle or sheer dumb luck, the chemistry kid actually landed a shot. He looked as shocked as the rest of us when the ball plopped into Naoya's cup. But it was her next shot that really got my attention — perfect arc, clean landing, like she'd been doing this her whole damn life.

"Drink up, Professor," she said, but there was something different in her voice.

She reached for the tequila, and then—fuck me—propped one leg up on a nearby beer crate, the motion making her skirt ride up just enough to flash a strip of skin above her tights. Wait. Those weren't tights. Those were fucking stockings.

My brain short-circuited as I realized she'd been walking around all night in stockings. Actual stockings, with what I knew had to be a garter belt hidden under that criminally short skirt. The same spot where she was now deliberately sprinkling cinnamon.

The sight of that exposed sliver of skin between stocking and skirt made my blood boil. When the hell had she even bought those? Had she worn them just for tonight, knowing they'd make me lose my goddamn mind? Was she trying to get herself killed?

Because right now, watching her purposely dust cinnamon on that band of exposed skin, I wasn't sure if I wanted to murder her or fuck her. Probably both. My mouth went dry, and it had fuck-all to do with the alcohol.

"Well?" She tilted her head, all innocence except for that knowing look in her eyes. "Coming to get your tequila?"

Like she had to ask twice. Yet I hesitated. With all these people watching? What was she playing at? It was reckless, careless, like she was deliberately trying to expose us. It was power play, a challenge. And I knew, that she knew, that I couldn't resist.

A slow smile spread across my face as I sank to one knee before her, the crowd fading into a blur of noise. All that mattered was her—the way her breath hitched as I gripped her calf, the way she tensed as she realized that I made a whole show for her (poor girl didn’t expect that now, did she?)—the feel of her skin on my tongue.

I took my sweet time with the cinnamon, letting my tongue glide over the exposed strip of flesh, feeling her shiver. My teeth grazed her skin, just enough to draw a soft gasp from her lips. If she wanted a show, I'd give her a show. And part of me wanted to shove that skirt higher, to chase that taste of salt and cinnamon further up her thigh until—

Focus. Fucking focus.

I straightened, stepping into her space. She held an orange slice in one hand, the shot glass in the other, and I couldn't help but notice how her pupils had blown wide, how her chest rose and fell just a little faster than normal.

I plucked the orange from her fingers with my teeth, my lips brushing her skin, then took the shot glass, using the movement to press closer, my mouth right by her ear, "What exactly is your plan here?"

"Create distraction," she breathed back.

God help me, but it was working. I was definitely distracted. Whole damn crowd was distracted. And watching her play this game—watching her play me—was probably the hottest and most infuriating thing I'd ever experienced. And I'm pretty sure everyone could see I was hard too.

"You're distracting the wrong audience," I whispered before knocking back the shot.

In the midst of trying to control my homicidal urges over those goddamn stockings, she caught my eye and subtly jerked her head. I turned, making it look like I was just checking something, and spotted them—Zenin, Okkotsu, and Inumaki hovering on the other side of the table behind Naoya, waiting for their chance.

Right. The keys. The whole reason we were here. I almost forgot.

The game continued, the tension building with each shot. We were down to the last round — winner takes all. That's when she decided to really test my patience.

"Let's make this more interesting," she announced, her voice carrying over the crowd. "Losers jump in the pool." A pause, then because apparently she was hell-bent on giving me a coronary. "No clothes."

"You wouldn’t dare," Naoya scoffed.

"Try me," she replied.

I shot her a warning look. She subtly chewed on her bottom lip, meeting my gaze with an unnerving calm, perhaps her way of saying everything's gonna be okay. It did little to ease the knot in my stomach.

One shot left. If she made this, Naoya and I would be stripping down for a midnight dip. If she missed—

I tried not to think about her in that pool. Tried not to think about those stockings getting soaked. Tried not to think about murdering every sorry bastard who might lay eyes on her. Either way, this woman was going to be the death of me. If I didn't kill her first.

Naoya landed his shot, fucking prick. I missed mine for obvious reasons. Chemistry kid missed too, leaving everything on her shoulders. The ball left her hand, arcing through the air in what felt like slow motion. It circled the rim, then rolled away.

The crowd went wild. Naoya's victory smirk made me want to punch his face in. I glanced over at her, wondering for a second if she'd missed on purpose. But there was no time for that.

"Well?" Naoya's voice. "I believe the losers owe us a show."

"The game wasn't exactly fair—" I started, but she cut me off.

"Isn’t this what you’ve always wanted, Naoya?" She turned to him, her words sharp. "To see me undress without having to drug me first?"

The crowd went dead silent. Naoya's scarred face contorted into something ugly. "Watch your mouth, little girl. You're not as untouchable as you think."

"And you're pathetic," she spat back, then turned away from him. "At least I get to choose when I undress, right?”

She started walking toward the pool, each step deliberate, commanding. I followed, caught between pride and sheer terror at what she was about to do. At the edge, she turned back to me.

"Don't," I pleaded, but she was already reaching for the hem of her skirt. It fell, revealing the dark lace of her stockings. Then her top followed, and I stepped closer, trying to shield her from the leering eyes.

"This is insane." But my protest died as she stood there in only black lace, and then I saw them—the bruises from the fire still painted across her waist and ribs. Dark purple and yellow marks that hadn't yet faded, cruel reminder of how close I'd come to losing her.

The sight sobered me instantly. Something twisted in my chest, sharp and painful. The bruises I'd carefully tended to, the ones that still made her wince when I changed her bandages—on full display for this crowd of drunk idiots, turned into a spectacle.

"Please," I begged, my voice barely audible. "Don't do this."

She met my gaze, and for a fleeting moment, I thought I’d reached her. But then that smile—the one that sealed my fate—touched her lips. "Sorry, Professor," she whispered, and then she was gone, falling backward into the pool, taking a piece of me with her.

The splash echoed in my ears like a gunshot, and I was already shrugging off my jacket, ready to either dive in after her or use it to cover her when she surfaced. A cold, hard fury settled in my gut. Naoya was going to pay for this.

The crowd roared as she surfaced, her hair plastered to her face, water tracing the curves of her body beneath the soaked lace. Our eyes met across the distance, me standing at the pool's edge, and I didn’t bother to hide my disappointment. Something flickered across her face—regret maybe, or shame—before she looked away.

Hell broke loose. Bodies crashed into the water, sending waves across the pool. Even Naoya stripped off his shirt and dove in, reveling in the attention. The whole party seemed to shift to the pool in a matter of seconds — clothes flying, drinks splashing, the pristine water turning into a churning mess.

Perfect distraction.

But I barely registered any of it, my world had narrowed to her. I watched as she climbed out, leaving a trail of wet footprints on the concrete, practically sprinting past me, her gaze fixed on the floor, while water dripped from her hair, her skin, the dark lace clinging to her form.

Behind her, the pool had turned into chaos — exactly what she'd planned, I realized.

I gathered her clothes from where they'd fallen and followed her inside. I caught a glimpse of Okkotsu's quick movements near the discarded clothes by the pool.

Well played.

─── ·✧· ───

Her dripping form drew curious eyes as we moved through the foyer. Each step felt like a penance—hers for the recklessness, mine for letting it happen. Heads turned, conversations died, the sudden silence punctuated only by the soft drip, drip, drip of water from her hair.

Kento’s face flashed past, but I barely registered him. No doubt he'd give me shit about it at the university later, like he didn't already know something was up with me and her.

I wrapped my jacket around her shivering shoulders, fighting the desperate urge to reach for the opioids hidden in my pocket. Withdrawal, guilt, and fury burned together in my veins, making me want to crawl out of my own skin.

I stepped in front of her, partly to block all those eyes on her, partly to hide how bad my hands were shaking. None of it was worth it. Not the keys, not avoiding my parents, none of it. How did we end up here? How did I allow things to get to this point?

Upstairs, she dressed quickly, water still dripping from her hair, leaving damp patches on her clothes.

"Are you cold?"

"I'm okay," she said, avoiding my gaze.

She was shaking. I could see the goosebumps on her arms. "You're shivering," I said and reached for her, but she pulled away.

“I’m fine, really.”

Despite her words, I pulled her close. She didn't resist this time, tilting her face up to mine. Her eyes were bright, and for a second, I thought she might cry. The world could have been watching, for all I cared. If those tears fell, it would be my undoing.

And then I thought of everything she'd done, everything she'd had to do—for me. My twenty-four-year-old student, forced to protect me from my own damn parents, to beg for my own money. Because I’d hit a guy who tried to hurt her. Why was it all so fucked up?

The high was long gone, leaving this gaping hole. My limbs felt heavy, detached, like they belonged to a stranger, unable to reach out and fix what I’d broken. And we were so far from where we started.

"You're disappointed," she finally said. She wasn't asking.

"We should leave." Because I couldn't bear to watch her sacrifice one more piece of herself for me.

"You can leave."

Before I could say anything back, Zenin came bursting into our corner, Okkotsu and Inumaki right behind her, her eyes all lit up. "That was fucking insane!" she yelled, waving something around—Naoya's keys. "But it worked! I can't believe it actually—" She stopped short, finally noticing the tension between us.

The win felt empty. Yeah, we got what we came for. But what did it cost? Looking at her, still shivering a little in my jacket, I wasn't so sure it was worth it. I was supposed to protect her. Instead, I just kept watching her throw herself in the fire for me.

Some professor I was. Some man I was.

Strange how winning can feel so much like losing, especially when you realize you're not the one paying the price.

─── ·✧· ───

I stayed outside Naoya's room, playing lookout. At least that's what I told them. Truth was, I couldn't stand being in there, couldn't bear being near her, watching her fight my battles while I was barely holding myself together.

The itch under my skin had spread, making my whole body crawl with invisible insects while she did the dirty work. Even after everything, she was still trying to save me.

And I was still letting her.

I slid down the wall, my head hitting the floor. How did we end up here? What the fuck were we doing? What the fuck was I doing?

I'm thirty-five years old, for fuck's sake. Why was I acting like a goddamn teenager? I should've stopped her, shouldn't have let her leave the house to begin with, should've been the adult. But instead, I let it happen, standing by and watching where it led. Again.

This whole situation was insane. We were in too deep, and I knew it. But I couldn't seem to find my way out, couldn't seem to stop this trainwreck we were on. It was like I was watching it all happen from outside my own body, powerless to change course.

What kind of man was I? What kind of professor? I was supposed to be her mentor, her… something more. Instead, I was dragging her down with me.

I thought back to that night, the one that started it all. The night I found her in the lab, working late, hunched over her microscope. She looked up at me with those eyes, those damn eyes that seemed to see right through me. And I was lost. I knew it was wrong. I knew I should have walked away. But I didn't. I couldn't. Drawn in. Consumed.

And now, here we were. Trapped in this fucked-up situation of our own making. I wanted to blame her, to say it was all her fault for being so reckless, so damn stubborn. But I knew that wasn't true. I let this happen. I didn’t stop it. But why?

I could replay the events in my mind, frame by frame, but the crucial moment, the point where I should have intervened, remained a blur. It was as if some part of me had wanted to see where this ended.

Music still drifted up from downstairs, the bass thumping through the walls. It felt wrong, out of place. Like we were in a different world, a fucked-up one, while everyone else was living their normal, happy lives.

I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to block it all out, trying to pretend, just for a moment, that this wasn't happening. That we weren't here. That everything was okay. But it was happening. And I was in it, and I knew I couldn't hold my breath much longer.

My hands wouldn't stop shaking. Kept seeing things in the corners of my vision. Shadows that shouldn't move but did, faces that weren't faces at all. The wallpaper breathed. In and out. In and out. Like a lung.

Stop it. Just stop all of it. Make it stop. But it won't stop, can't stop, because she's in there right now, digging through his things, trying to save me save me save me why won't she just stop trying to save me?

Everything felt wrong, sick, twisted. Too bright and too dark all at once. My skin didn't fit right anymore. Nothing fit right anymore. God, I needed a goddamn fix.

A cough. I pressed my hand against my mouth. When I pulled it away, my palm was red.

Huh. That's new.

I stared at the blood, watching it pool in the lines of my hand. It looked wrong somehow, too dark, too thick. The longer I stared, the more it seemed to move strangely, crawling along the creases of my palm.

Was blood supposed to move like that? Like it was alive? Like it was trying to tell me something? I couldn't remember anymore. I couldn't remember a lot of things lately. The blood kept moving, kept spreading.

Maybe this was it—maybe I was finally losing whatever scraps of sanity I had left, sitting here on a dirty floor watching my own blood drip down my palm.

A part of me wondered if he'd been right all along, that I was becoming him, the very thing I’d always feared. This wasn't how it was supposed to be. I was supposed to be better, different. Not this—huddled on a filthy floor at a college party, watching my blood move as if in psychosis, while she risked everything for me. Again.

The door handle turned. Shit. I wiped my palm against the dark carpet, smearing the blood into the fibers where it vanished like it was never there. I scrambled to my feet just as they emerged. She moved quickly, shoving something beneath the waistband of her skirt. Before I could speak, she grabbed my arm.

"Let's leave." There was something like panic in her voice. "I'll tell you outside."

I gripped her hand, my own pulse quickening, and we went downstairs and pushed through the mass of drunk students. But then the music cut abruptly, plunging us into a moment of strange silence before panicked voices filled the void.

"What the hell—?" Okkotsu’s shout cut through the din from behind us.

Then I saw the flashing lights—red and blue strobing through the windows. Fuck.

"Cops!" Someone shouted, and the whole house erupted into chaos as people scrambled in every direction.

"Everyone freeze!" A voice boomed through the foyer. "Nobody moves!"

We reached the entrance as two officers shouldered their way through the front door. The bigger one looked like he benched trucks for fun, taking up almost the entire doorframe as he planted himself there.

"Listen up!" he bellowed, one meaty hand resting on his belt. "Party's over. Nobody leaves until we check IDs."

Perfect. Just fucking perfect.

I felt her tense beside me, those things hidden in her waistband might as well have been burning her skin. I could practically feel her panic.

"Look, officers." I stepped forward, forcing my voice into something professional. "There seems to be some confusion—"

"No confusion here," Truck-Bencher cut me off, the scar on his lip twisting as he frowned. "Got noise complaints, reports of underage drinking. Everyone stays put."

"I'm faculty at the university. These are my students and they're all over twenty-one. You're wasting everyone's time—"

"Nobody leaves until we say so."

"You really want to process IDs for over two hundred students?"

"You telling me how to do my job?" He shifted closer, chest puffed out despite me having two inches on him.

Withdrawal crawled beneath my skin like insects, each bite feeding the rage that built vertebra by vertebra up my spine. "Depends. Are you actually doing it, or just power tripping?"

"Back the fuck up." His hand dropped to his belt. "Last chance."

I felt her fingers digging into my arm, trying to pull me back. But the rage was a living thing now, burning away anything resembling sense or restraint. "Or what?"

The punch came fast. I dropped, and heard the sickening crack of bone against flesh—not mine. Some poor student next to me. For a heartbeat, everything stopped. Then chaos.

Bodies everywhere. Screaming. Shoving. Radio static cutting through the roar. Her hand in mine as we pushed through the surge. Her friends somewhere behind. Everything blurred. I can't remember when she let go of my hand.

I just remember the scream. Different from the others. Then her voice, "Get her on the ground!" I shoved through the mass of bodies. Saw the girl on the floor. Ice flooded my veins.

I knew that face. Higurama's intern. My patient. My responsibility.

I dropped beside her, my hands shaking so violently I could barely feel them. Her eyes rolled back. Withdrawal made everything too sharp, too bright. I couldn't think. Couldn't—

Satoru. Satoru. Satoru. Satoru. Satoru. Satoru. It was her voice. Fingers gripped my arm. "Satoru, look at me." I met her eyes. Steady. Unnerving. "Focus."

Everything snapped back into place. My phone was in my hand before I realized I'd moved. "This is Dr. Gojo from Jujutsu Medical. Twenty-six-year-old female, epileptic, pre-seizure presentation. We need immediate assistance."

My voice was mechanical, professional. Inside, my mind screamed. Why was she here? Had she been drinking? Were her meds interacting with something? I should know this. Should be better than this. Should be fucking better.

Nausea rose in my throat and I'd never felt more like a failure in my entire fucking life.

Behind us, the fight continued to rage. A man’s voice bellowed, trying to restore order. Then Suguru was there, kneeling beside her, his hands gentle as he cradled her head. He murmured something, soft and low. The tenderness in his movements caught me off guard.

"The ambulance is taking too long." His voice cut through everything. Before I could process it, he had her in his arms, head protected against his chest and moved.

─── ·✧· ───

I can't remember how we got to the hospital.

Everything blurred into fragments. Flashing lights, squealing tires, the weight of everything crushing my chest. Each breath scraped like broken glass. My hands wouldn't stop shaking until I swallowed three pills. Maybe four. I lost count.

The fluorescent lights overhead were too bright, too harsh, making my skull feel like it was splitting open. I wanted to crack my head against the wall.

Some part of me was still moving, still speaking in that detached doctor voice — rattling off medical history, medications, possible interactions. Years of training overriding the screaming in my head. But they never trained us for this.

Never trained us for how guilt tastes like acid in your throat while watching your mistakes breathe shallowly on starched white sheets.

They taught us to make clean incisions, to suture arteries, to restart hearts. But not how your own heart would seize when you recognize the face on the floor. Not how your girlfriend’s hands would be steadier than your own worthless trembling ones as you fumbled for your phone, your throat closing around the words "this is my fault", "please" and "I'm sorry."

Didn’t prepare us for withdrawal turning your hands into treacherous strangers while someone seized at your feet. For the shame that festers in your gut as you come down, struggling to remember basic fucking dosages through the need scorching through your veins.

They never warned us how love would carve you open worse than any scalpel, making you both butcher and victim, instrument and incision. Never warned us about loving someone while you’re falling apart. How it feels like drowning in open air, your chest cracked wide and your beating heart wrenched out into daylight, desperate and terrified and somehow still pumping, still fighting, still so fucking afraid.

Higurama's intern lay still now, the steady drip of the IV marking time like a metronome in the silence. I watched the gentle rise and fall of her chest, my mind replaying the medications, the dosages, searching for the mistake I must have made. There had to be one. There was always one.

Perhaps he was right about me after all. Funny how even now, even here, I could still hear his voice so clearly.

"You okay?"

She sat across from me, swallowed by my spare clothes—an old t-shirt and sweatpants that draped loosely on her frame, a blanket draped over her legs. Anything was better than those clothes from before, those fucking stockings I'd personally thrown in the trash.

"Satoru?" she tried again. "You okay?"

I couldn't bring myself to answer.

"Talk me through her meds again," she said, resting her head in her palm. Her eyes, piercing and unwavering, never left my face as she waited.

I rubbed my temples, trying to focus through the exhaustion. "Standard anticonvulsants. Levetiracetam, 500mg twice daily. Added phenytoin after the first seizure." I fell back into my chair, scrubbing my hand over my face. "She couldn't tolerate the Levetiracetam, so I switched to Topiramate, 500mg thrice daily."

She was quiet for a moment. "Side effects?"

"Minor. Tremor in her extremities sometimes, but nothing she couldn't handle. It was working." I paused. "It was supposed to be working."

"EEG results?"

"Showed mild abnormalities. Nothing that would explain a seizure this severe." I scrubbed at my face again, harder this time. "I should have seen it. Should have caught something."

"Satoru." Her voice held that gentle firmness I knew so well. "You did everything right."

"Then why did she seize?" I stood abruptly, the chair screeching against linoleum. I turned away, unable to bear her gentle gaze. Outside, dawn was breaking in shades of grey. No color, no warmth, just an endless stretch of concrete and clouded sky bleeding into each other. "If I did everything right, why is she lying here?"

"Because sometimes that's just how it goes. You know this better than anyone," she said. "Medicine isn't perfect. Neither are we."

My reflection stared back at me, ghostly and distorted in the glass. Dark circles, stubble, hair a fucking mess. A doctor coming down from a high while his patient lay in a hospital bed.

"I should have increased the dosage earlier. Run more tests. I should have—"

"Seen the future?"

"I should have been better."

"You are already the best," she said, but it felt like a lie to me. "But even the best can't control everything."

Higurama's intern stirred slightly in her sleep, and we both fell silent, the moment stretching taut between us. I dragged myself back to the chair, sinking down with my face in my hands.

"You didn't do anything wrong," she whispered, leaning forward to brush a stray strand of hair from the girl's forehead. "Sometimes life just happens, and all we can do is be there to pick up the pieces."

I wanted to believe her. God, how I wanted to. But the truth sat like stones in my stomach.

"I hate this," I whispered.

"I know."

Silence.

"Do you blame yourself?" she asked quietly.

"How can I not?"

Because it's stupid, you know this. I could feel them in my bones, the words forming on her lips before she could speak them. "How did that ever change anything?" I said before she could start.

She leaned back, the chair creaking slightly. "Do you think we are terrible people?" she asked, her voice so soft I almost missed it.

I turned to look at her then, really look at her. Even exhausted and worried, wearing my old clothes, she was still the most beautiful thing I'd ever seen. Like a drug I couldn't quit, a high I'd chase until it killed me.

And what did that say about either of us? That I wanted to crack her open, crawl inside her skin and nestle myself in her marrow? Wanted to consume her, devour her, until there was nothing left but the two of us, fused together in the most depraved way possible?

It was as if we were always meant to find each other. But it was a penance, for both of us.

"I think I am what I am because of you," I finally said.

And it was the truth. She'd molded me, shaped me, just as I'd shaped her. We'd ruined each other for anyone else, stripped away the innocence and left only the filth and grit behind.

Her hand fell from her face, her eyes meeting mine. "And I am what I am because of you."

"Does that scare you?"

"I think one gets used to it."

"Yeah," I said finally, my voice rough. "I guess you do get used to it. Until you don't."

She frowned, but before she could voice something, Suguru stepped inside.

He said we should leave, and maybe that was for the better anyway, though I couldn't quite shake the feeling that there was an edge to his voice. Anger, perhaps. But I couldn't blame him. Not really.

I grabbed her things, my hand finding its familiar place at the small of her back as we headed for the door. Suguru's voice followed us down the corridor. "What did you find in Zenin's room anyway?" he asked, as if it were something to be discussed in the doorway.

I walked ahead.

I didn't need to hear again about the unconscious women on the Polaroids.

─── ·✧· ───

Too quiet.

He was never this quiet.

"How bad is it?" I asked, perched on the edge of the exam bed where the paper sheet betrayed every nervous shift of my weight with stupid crinkles. Pale morning light filtered through the blinds, casting thin stripes across the linoleum floor.

I'd coughed up blood again earlier this morning. More than last night. The metallic taste had filled my mouth before I even opened my eyes. I'd stumbled to the bathroom, careful not to wake her—she needed the rest after we spent the whole damn night at the police station.

I stared at the red running down the drain. Way more than there should be. I'd blamed it on stress and alcohol last time. But now? It meant my liver was probably failing faster than I'd thought. Coagulation system breaking down, blood vessels becoming fragile. Textbook end-stage.

I called him then. He was still at the hospital, had slept there while looking after Higurama's intern. His face had gone pale when he saw me walk in. Guess I looked as bad as I felt.

We ran tests. All of them. Blood work, chest X-rays, the works. And now here we are. I watched him reading what I assumed was my death sentence, waiting for him to finally look up, while the clock on the wall ticked away the seconds.

But he kept his eyes fixed on the test results, holding himself with the careful rigidity of someone handling explosives. Another bad sign.

"Suguru."

He exhaled slowly, finally meeting my gaze with eyes that said everything before his mouth could form the words. "You should have started treatment sooner. We talked about this months ago."

"Yeah, yeah, I know." I tried to wave off his concern. "What do the results say?"

His fingers tightened on the papers until the corners creased. "Your liver enzymes are through the roof. AST over 1000, ALT even higher. Bilirubin's climbing while albumin's dropping. Your PT/INR values—" He trailed off, shaking his head. "Your liver is failing, Satoru. Not just damaged anymore—failing."

I let the clinical terms wash over me. The doctor in me understood the implications perfectly. The addict in me wanted to laugh at the irony.

"Well," I said, forcing lightness into my tone, "guess I should have listened to you sooner, huh?"

Suguru's expression hardened. "This isn't a joke. Without immediate intervention—" He caught himself, but I could read the rest in his eyes as clearly as any lab report.

Without immediate intervention, I was dying. Fitting, really. That my body would choose to betray me just when I'd finally found something worth living for.

"How's the withdrawal going?" Suguru asked, setting down the test results.

"Managing." I ran a hand through my hair, trying to ignore how even that simple movement felt like too much effort. "Reduced the hydromorphone gradually. Down to about 5mg now."

"Satoru." His voice carried that familiar note of frustration, the one I'd heard a thousand times before. "You need to stop completely. Not reduce—stop. Your liver can't handle any more strain."

"I'm trying," I snapped, then immediately regretted the harshness. "Sorry. I know you're trying to help."

Suguru pulled up a chair, sitting down with a heavy sigh. "We need to start treatment immediately. The protocol won't be pleasant—high-dose corticosteroids, immunosuppressants, possibly plasmapheresis if things get worse."

"Sounds fun."

"It'll be brutal," he continued, ignoring my sarcasm. "The side effects alone—you'll need to be monitored constantly. Multiple blood draws daily, frequent imaging. And absolutely no narcotics—your liver won't survive it."

I absorbed this, the clinical reality of what lay ahead settling into my bones. "So basically, I get to feel like shit while you stick me with needles and watch me suffer."

"That's about right. But it's either that or start planning your funeral."

"At least you're honest." I attempted a smile that felt more like a grimace. "When do we start?"

"Tomorrow morning. I'll admit you tonight, get you set up in a private room," Suguru said, already reaching for admission forms.

"Monday morning."

He looked up sharply. "What?"

"I have a family dinner on Sunday," I shrugged. "Can't skip it."

"Are you insane?" Suguru's voice rose to fill the small room. "Your liver is failing, Satoru. This isn't something you can postpone for a damn dinner party."

"Monday morning," I repeated firmly. "I gave my word I'd be there."

"Your word won't mean much if you're dead."

"I can manage two more days."

"No, you can't." Suguru slammed the test results down with enough force to make me flinch. Since when is he always so fucking tense? "Your numbers are critical. Every hour we delay treatment increases the risk of complete liver failure."

"Monday."

"For fuck's sake, Satoru—"

"I said Monday. I need to do this, Suguru. Please."

He stared at me for a long moment, jaw clenched so tight I could hear his teeth grinding. Finally, his shoulders slumped.

"Fine. Monday morning, first thing. But if you show any signs of deterioration—any at all—I'm admitting you immediately. And no alcohol at that dinner. Not a single drop."

"Deal."

"I mean it, Satoru."

"I know," I said, trying to inject some levity into the heavy atmosphere. "You can do all sorts of things to me on Monday. Not like I have much on my schedule anyway."

"So Yaga has exempted you?"

"Temporarily relieved of my teaching duties until further notice." I tried to keep my voice light, but the words still choked me. "Apparently, licking your student's leg in public view isn't considered acceptable behavior. Who knew?"

"Everyone would have known that."

"Most people were too drunk to remember anyway, or too busy dealing with the police raid afterwards to care." I shrugged. "Silver lining?"

"This isn't funny. Do you have any idea how serious this is? Your career—"

"My career?" I almost laughed. "In case you missed the memo, my liver's failing. I think my career concerns just got bumped down the priority list."

Suguru fell silent.

"Besides," I added, "maybe it's for the best. Can't exactly teach while going through treatment, can I?"

"Yaga doesn't know about your condition?"

"No, and he's not going to. As far as he's concerned, I'm just taking some time to... reassess my professional boundaries."

"And when he asks why you're not fighting this?"

I sighed. "Let him think what he wants. I've got bigger problems right now."

"Like a family dinner you're insisting on attending despite being on death's door?"

"Exactly." I flashed him a grin, this one a little more genuine despite everything. "See? You're getting it."

"You're impossible."

"That's why you love me."

"That's why I'm going to enjoy sticking you with needles on Monday."

"Kinky."

His expression sobered, eyes searching my face. "You should tell her."

The mere mention of her sent a knife twisting in my gut. "No."

"Satoru—"

"I said no. She has enough to deal with right now. This stays between us."

Suguru shook his head but didn't argue further. He knew me too well to waste his breath.

"I will," I added softly, more to convince myself than him. "When I'm a bit better."

"This will kill her."

"I know."

Silence.

"I'm sorry," I finally managed. "For being an asshole. For everything. And... thanks for coming to the party with me."

"You already apologized."

"I mean it." I met his gaze. "You've always been there, even when I didn't deserve it."

Something shifted in his expression—a flicker of the friendship we'd shared before everything got so complicated. Before I'd dragged us both into this mess.

"Just don't die on me," he said. "I've invested too much time in keeping your stupid ass alive."

I pushed off the bed, steadying myself against the sudden dizziness that threatened to knock me over. "See you Monday."

"You're a stubborn idiot," he called after me. I didn't disagree.

I stopped at the door, turning back. "Hey, what's going on between you and Higurama's intern anyway?"

Suguru stiffened slightly. "Nothing. Just concerned since she's my patient now too."

I studied him, noting the subtle tension in his shoulders, the way his gaze shifted slightly left—his tell when he wasn't being entirely truthful.

"Sure," I said, too exhausted to push it further. "See you Monday."

As I walked away, I wondered if he knew how obvious he was. Then again, who was I to judge? I was hardly an expert at handling matters of the heart.

─── ·✧· ───

I paused outside our apartment door, my hand trembling on the handle. Withdrawal clawed through me, a living thing twisting my gut. Each breath was a struggle, my lungs constricting as if they'd forgotten their purpose. Just breathe, idiot. In, out. You're almost there.

Relief flooded through me the moment I opened the door. Her shoes were there, neatly arranged next to my scattered ones. Her coat on the hook. She was home.

Strange how that simple fact could lift the weight crushing my chest, made breathing a fraction less painful. No matter how bad things were, coming home to her felt like breaking the surface after being underwater too long.

Dog bounded up to greet me, tail whipping back and forth, before darting off toward the bedroom. Smart boy knew exactly where to find her. I kicked off my shoes, let my jacket fall where it would, and followed.

She was there, sprawled across our bed in a sea of papers, bathed in the warm light of the bedside lamp. The sight of her stole what little breath I had left. Hair messily pulled back, drowning in one of my old t-shirts, completely lost in whatever she was reading. Beautiful. It was a beauty that made my heart ache.

Without a word, I crawled onto the bed, dragging myself up until I could rest my head on her stomach. I paused, remembering the bruises on her midsection. But before I could pull back, she gently tugged me closer and I surrendered, resting my head against her warmth.

I wrapped my arms around her waist and her fingers found my hair instantly, like they belonged there, gentle strokes that made my eyes flutter closed and I thought, this was home. This was peace. Even as my body screamed for relief, even as guilt gnawed at me, here with her, I could almost believe everything would be okay.

"What are you reading?" I mumbled against her shirt, already knowing the answer. Why did she still throw herself into this project? Did it even matter anymore? But I already knew that answer too. Distraction.

"Research papers. For our project." Her fingers never stopped their magic. "Everything okay at the hospital?" I wondered for a second how she knew where I went, but then she said, "Antiseptic smell."

Did I always smell like that? Like the harsh, sterile scent of the hospital? I hated it. Hated how it seemed to cling to my skin no matter how many times I scrubbed my hands raw. Hated the way it reminded me of sickness and death.

I hugged her tighter, breathing in her familiar scent as that was so unlike the clinical smell of the hospital as I crafted the lie. Yeah, everything's fine, I told her. Had to check on something with a patient. Normal stuff, nothing to worry about. Standard procedure.

But even as I spoke, the guilt in my stomach twisted. The truth was, I wasn't sure how much longer I could keep going like this. I could feel myself slipping, losing my grip on the things that mattered most and I couldn't help but wonder if I'd even make it to the end.

If I'd be there to witness the results of our research, to stand by her side as we perhaps do something great. I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to drown out the intrusive thoughts, focusing on the feel of her beneath me, the steady rise and fall of her breath.

Her fingers paused momentarily in my hair, and I knew she sensed something off. She always could read me too well. But then she resumed the gentle stroking.

"You'd tell me if something's wrong, right?"

"Of course," I whispered, another lie to add to the growing pile.

I tightened my arms around her waist, as if by holding her close enough, I could somehow make up for my betrayal. As if loving her fiercely enough could somehow balance out the pain I was about to cause her. Monday felt both too far away and not nearly far enough.

Desperate for a distraction, I asked about how it went at the police station. She said it was fine, her friends were with her as they'd needed to clarify their statements, she explained, her fingers still weaving through my hair. Everything had been too hazy right after the party.

She mentioned they needed me to verify my own statement again too. I bit back the urge to say that they'd likely have to come to my hospital bed for that. Instead, I just hummed in response. Whatever it took to make that little shit pay for what he'd done.

"He won't hurt anyone else," she added. "We'll make sure of it."

Something about her struck me as odd. How could she be so unaffected by everything that had happened? Like we didn’t just discover that Zenin Naoya was—

"You're so calm about it."

"And what would you have me do?"

I didn’t know. Maybe I should be grateful that at least one of us could keep it together.

I turned my head, pressing a kiss to her palm. I wanted to tell her how proud I was of her, how sorry I was for dragging her into this mess, how I feared the rumors that would follow her through university halls. How fucking terrified I was. How much I loved her. But it all just crowded in my throat, tangled with all the other truths I couldn't voice.

Instead, I just held her tighter. "I'm sorry," I whispered.

"For what?"

I didn't answer. Couldn't answer. Or lie again. I clung to her, as if she were the only thing keeping me from falling apart, pressing my face into her stomach, trying to blur myself into her very being. "Satoru,” she winced, a small sound escaping her lips. "You're hurting me."

"Please," I pleaded, tears pricking at my eyes. “Just… bear it for a moment. Please.” But then, a sudden tickle rose in my throat, and I sat up abruptly, he movement sending the room spinning.

"You okay?" she asked, sitting up as well, her hand cradling her side.

"Yeah," I managed, before another cough clawed its way out. I stood, turning away from her, my hand coming up to cover my mouth. When I pulled it away, blood glistened on my palm.

"Satoru? You sure you're okay?"

"Everything's fine." I curled my fingers into a fist, watching red seep between my knuckles. "Just need some water."

I should call him again. Should probably head to the hospital right now. Every logical part of my brain screamed at me to seek help, to stop this madness before it was too late.

But Sunday's dinner loomed in my mind. One last chance to fix things with her, to make things right before everything inevitably crumbled around us. Just two more days. I just needed to hold on for two more days and then I could let the chips fall where they may.

Even as blood painted the back of my throat red, I clung to that desperate hope, that foolish notion that I could make this right. I knew I was being stupid. Reckless. Playing Russian roulette with a fully loaded gun.

But then again, what did it matter anyway?

<- prev chapter | next chapter ->

author's note — welcome back, i hope this wasn't too intense, even tho i went through all stages of grief writing this chapter, but i'm quite happy with how it turned out. hope you all survived seeing things through satoru's eyes once more. writing from his perspective is always both challenging and thrilling in some strange way.

quick note, as this is somehow not obvious to some people: i understand that this story deals with controversial topics and might not be everyone’s cup of tea but this is purely fictional work, and i'm just here to enjoy a stupid little hobby. i am not looking for criticism. if the story makes you uncomfortable, feel free to block me and move on.

for those following the spin-off: yes, this chapter runs parallel to remedies and reasons chapter 04 ! if you want to see how certain events played out from a different angle, definitely check out the suguru spin-off.

and i want to thank you all for your incredible support. your comments, messages, and theories continue to blow me away. seeing how deeply you connect with this story and catch all the little details i sprinkle throughout brings me so much joy. your thoughtful analyses and wild speculations make writing this stupid story so much fun !! :''))

also a massive thank you to @/nanamis-baker who beta reads all these chaotic chapters, listens to my rambling about plot points, and talks me down whenever i'm convinced everything i write is terrible <3

& second quick note about the alcohol consumption in this story: while it's serve the narrative of the story, please remember that alcohol is toxic to the body and brain, with no "safe" amount. please be mindful of your health and wellbeing.

next chapter we'll be back to our regular pov as we deal with the aftermath of... well, all of this. until then, take care of yourselves ! and as always, thank you for joining me on this chaotic journey and being patient with my slow updates <3

ps: if you want to get notifications for future updates, you can join my taglist here !

tags — @browrm @panteramarron @starlightanyaaa

@myahfig4 @rosebluod @bloopsstuff @depressedemosantaclaus @nanamis-baker

@tofumiao @shoruio @s3vtrue @rosso-seta @bnha-free-writing

@chiyokoemilia @bonequinhagojo @janbannan @mikkmmmii @yeiena

@coeqi @faustina @glenkiller338 @yenmrtnz @buni-bunnydoll

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jockbroski34 · 8 months ago

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The Bro Cap

Biology was my favorite class this semester. Not only did I find science to be interesting, but I also shared the class with one of the hottest guys in the school: Aaron Moore. He was the star of the school’s baseball team as a pitcher and he was the talk of the school. Girls were always swooning over him for how tall and handsome and athletic he was. He was good at every sport; football, basketball, and so on, but in school, he played baseball. He was a major source of envy for a lot of guys. A lot of guys wished they could be him. I, however, wanted to be with him. Fortunately, I sit behind him in class, so I get the best view of him, despite being from behind. At least it meant he wouldn’t see me watching him.

I often found myself getting distracted by him. Even if I couldn’t see his face, I could see his broad shoulders, which were built like mountains, as well as his arms which were shaped like mounds of muscle. His tall stature sometimes made it hard to look at the board, not that it was the main place my eyes were looking at in the first place. His favorite baseball hat, adorned with our school team’s logo on it, was worn backwards like most of the jocks at the school. He didn’t come off like the rest of them though. His relaxed vibe made him easy to talk to and he could be quite funny compared to the rest of the meathead jocks. He got along with everyone really well, making him very well-liked. Although he was far from the smartest guy in the class, I could tell that he tried. It was no wonder why he was so popular.

Today, I was daydreaming when I was disrupted by our teacher, Mr. Martin. I felt him stare directly at me, almost as if he knew I wasn’t paying attention. It was like he could read my every thought, and honestly, if that were true, that’d be extremely humiliating. The last thing I needed was for my crush on Aaron to be exposed to the rest of the class. Knowing how embarrassing he could be, I wouldn’t put it past him. He asked me a question, and I thankfully already knew the answer, as I awakened from my daydream.

“Correct! I wasn’t sure if you were paying attention or not,” he chuckled. “You always look like you’re off in your own little world. But you still manage to do well. You gotta tell the rest of your class your secret.” Looks like someone has caught on to my tendencies. Mr. Martin was a middle-aged guy, probably in his 30s. He looked good for his age, and was a pretty relaxed and carefree teacher.

The class went by as usual, and eventually we were dismissed. All of the other students dispersed, but I needed to ask our professor a question about the homework. He helped clarify things for me thankfully. I was about to leave, but then he pointed out something on the ground.

“Hey Aiden, doesn’t Aaron sit in front of you? That’s his hat, right?” he asked.

“Yeah, I always see him wear it.” It was unusual for him to have left it here by accident.

“Do you know if you can bring it to him today? If not, I can keep it here until next class.”

“I’ll hold onto it until I see him next. I have a feeling I’ll run into him later.” I don’t know why I said that. We don’t have any other classes together and we certainly aren’t close enough to be friends, even if I wished we were. I’m also not on the baseball team. Either way, my professor smiled for helping him out.

Regardless, I grabbed Aaron’s hat, but instead of chasing after him, I realized I really needed to go to the bathroom. He was probably long gone anyways. After I went, I noticed that I was still holding onto his hat. I went to observe it and I noticed that it smelled a little like him, with a mix of sweat from wearing it all day and whatever shampoo he used. I knew I shouldn’t, but I felt a sudden urge to put Aaron’s hat on. Despite the fact that I would feel really embarrassed if someone saw me wearing it, I knew I would likely never get this opportunity again. I was completely alone, so it’s not like there’s anything wrong with it. It wasn’t just any hat, it was Aaron’s. It’s not like he had lice or anything. What’s the worst that could happen?

And so I put it on, wearing it backwards like he would. Strangely, for a few seconds, I felt as though time had completely stopped. The leaky sink faucet paused its rhythmic dripping. The stomping of feet in the hallway deafened. My watch skipped a tick. But as time seemed to return to its natural course, I was able to see how I looked. I had to admit, I looked really good in it. I wouldn’t call myself an unattractive guy, but Aaron was way out of my league. Despite that, a smirk appeared on my face. A wave of confidence washed over me, almost like a little bit of Aaron had rubbed off on me. Suddenly, I didn’t really feel like taking it off anymore. I wasn’t too worried about what would happen if Aaron or one of his friends saw me wearing it.

After admiring myself in the mirror for a few minutes, I realized that I was late to my next class, algebra. I had no idea I had spent so much time checking myself out. I must’ve lost track of time. As I walked to my seat, I felt like all eyes were on me for some reason. I never used to make much of an impression on most people. I was quiet and had only a couple friends. Normally, I would’ve felt a little anxious with so many people staring at me, but I didn’t really give a shit now.

“Late as always, aren’t we Aiden?” the teacher remarked. Very funny. I always showed up on time. I sat down in my seat, but it didn’t feel right. My body squeezed tight into the desk. I felt like I was sitting in a chair meant for a middle schooler. Weird. Something weird is going on, but I can’t figure out what it is.

The class was just as weird because I felt like my classmates were a little more talkative. I couldn’t focus during class due to being distracted by someone whispering. I still felt a couple of their eyes on me. I looked over and made brief eye contact with one of the girls on the far side of the room. She immediately looked away and giggled towards one of her friends. Her cheeks turned a deep crimson, the color of passion. She was cute, but definitely out of my league. I wasn’t straight either way, so I didn’t care if she was into me.

Normally, I was good at math, even if I didn’t like it, but I felt myself struggling to answer questions today. Something must be wrong. The room felt hotter than usual, and I felt myself sweat a little and my body started to ache. I noticed that I smelled a little like Aaron’s cologne. I’ve recognized his scent from sitting behind him, but for that smell to linger and for me to smell like him is really weird.

Class was dismissed, and this was usually when I went to lunch. I received a text from one of my friends, Bryan, from half an hour earlier.

Bryan: Hey, me and the guys are getting food. Wanna come with?

Normally, we always got lunch at the same time. But for some reason, I didn’t really want to? That’s weird for me. I felt my fingers move on my own as they typed out a message.

Me: nah bro i dont feel like it mayb sum other time dude

I didn’t text like that normally. Nor did I turn down my friends. Is it the…Before I could finish my thought, I was interrupted by the booming sound of two guys further down the hall, with one of them calling my name. They were two jocks. I recognized that they were both friends with Aaron because they hung out together a lot. What did they want? I didn’t really get along well with either of them or the rest of their kind. Hopefully they didn’t think I was a pervert for wearing Aaron’s hat and beat me up.

“Sup bro, we were just about to get some food before hitting the gym. Wanna come with?” the other jock asked me. Judging from his tone, he seemed surprisingly friendly with me.

Were they serious? Did these jocks actually think I was one of them? I would never get an opportunity to hang out with them again, so I agreed. Part of me felt guilty for ditching my nerdy friends to hang out with the jocks, but I knew they were cool guys. My perspective on these two big jocks changed as I walked with them. For some reason, I felt a strong sense of camaraderie with them, almost like I’ve known them for a long time. I’m not sure why I was so intimidated by them before. They were really chill.

I saw another one of my friends as I walked with my new friends. I waved to him, but he barely seemed to notice me. Was he mad at me for skipping lunch with them or did he seriously not recognize me since I was hanging out with the jocks? It almost felt like he didn’t know me at all.

I pulled out my phone to see what was up with him, until I realized that Bryan had finally responded to me.

Bryan: My bad. Thought you were someone else. He must’ve given me the wrong number.

Was this some kind of prank? He obviously knew my number. Of course he knows who I am. Whatever, I don’t care what a nerd like him thinks. I put my phone away and resumed chatting with my jock friends. You know, my real friends. I noticed as I walked with them that they didn’t look as big and menacing as they seemed. Either that or maybe I hit my growth spurt recently.

We went and got food, with the jocks making sure I got enough protein. I swear I almost never eat this much. The jocks must eat a lot to stay in shape, I thought to myself. But did they seriously want me to go to the gym with them? I had class soon. But these guys were cool and I didn’t want to disappoint my bros. I figured I could miss a day and go lift with them. As long as it doesn’t turn into a habit.

I realized as we stepped into the gym that I had never worked out before nor had I stepped into an actual gym. I was worried about coming across as weak and humiliating myself in front of them. I changed into some clothes that I'm not really sure when I bought, a tank top and gym shorts. To my surprise, I simply followed the motions of my bros and I was able to work out with them just fine. I noticed that I was able to keep up with their workouts, and I surprised myself with how much I could lift. It shouldn’t have been possible to lift as much as they did but maybe they were just going easy on me because they knew I was a beginner. By the time we finished, I was just in time for my last class. But just before I parted ways with my new friends, one of them said something that caught me off guard.

“Later, Moore.”

Must’ve been a slip of the tongue. There was no way in hell they mistook me for Aaron. At least it gave me a mental reminder to give Aaron his hat back next time I see him. Although…his hat is so nice that I’m a little tempted to keep it for myself. He could always just get another one, right? I just don’t want him to see me wearing it though, so I’ll only do it when he’s not around.

In class, everyone was still staring at me as if I went to school in my underwear. Maybe there was something weird about me, but I couldn’t put my finger on it. I did smell a little bit since I came from my workout, but I don’t think it was that. I shrugged it off. They can stare all they want for all I care. I felt incredibly sore after my workout, and my arms looked unnaturally swollen. If I had to be honest, I almost felt as big as the two jocks I worked out with. But in such a short amount of time? With no prior lifting experience? That was impossible.

I found myself completely zoned out and indifferent to class today. All I wanted to do was leave and uh…What was it that I had going on later? I pondered that thought throughout the entire class period. Eventually, we were dismissed and I was free to leave. I was walking towards the dorms until I ran into, guess who? Aaron Moore.

“Hey bro, you still coming to practice?” he asked.

“Practice?”

“Yeah, baseball practice, you big dummy! You know, you’re always so forgetful, dude. Good thing I always was the smarter one, bro.”

“Yeah, you’re right, bro. My bad.” I’m not sure which statement I was agreeing with. But as I looked at him, I realized something. He was wearing his hat! But then how was I wearing his hat if he was wearing it? “I thought you lost your hat. How are you wearing it?”

“I was wearing my hat all day, dude. One day you decided to copy me and wear your hat to school like I do. But honestly, I think you rock it better than I do, so keep it up. You’ll impress the ladies.” But I was gay. And I’ve only had this hat for a day. If it wasn’t his, then how was it actually mine? I was overwhelmed and full of questions after everything that had happened today, from my growth spurt, to me hanging out with the jocks, to my old friends barely knowing who I am, but I didn’t seem to have the brain power at the moment to seek the answers to them.

As we walked, I kept chatting with Aaron as if it was natural, as if we always knew each other. Something felt off, but I couldn’t figure it out. Was it because we were going to practice? I’ve never played baseball in my life. Nah, that can’t be right. I feel like I’ve swung a bat before… We went into the locker room to change. I looked in the mirror and paused for a second.

My reflection wasn’t there. Someone else’s was. Someone much stronger and much taller than me. That wasn’t me. It was Aaron Moore.

No, except it wasn’t an exact match. There was enough different about the guy in front of me to know that it wasn’t Aaron. This figure was a little stronger than him, and still stood probably a little over 6 feet tall. I walked closer. “Aaron” walked closer. I moved my hand to feel my face. So did “Aaron”. A dull, confused look appeared on his face. Had I really become him? But Aaron was over on the other end of the room changing. Then who am I? Was I like this since I put the hat on earlier? I reached into my wallet and pulled out my ID.

Aiden Moore...That’s not my last name. That’s…Aaron’s? Normally I wouldn’t have minded taking his last name, but we definitely WEREN’T married. As far as I knew, Aaron was as straight as an arrow.

Date of Birth: 08/17/2003…If I recall, that’s Aaron’s birthday. I knew my birthday, and it was in January. Don’t tell me…Are we…?

I compared the face in the ID to the one in the mirror. It wasn’t an illusion, and it wasn’t a dream. It was like I was his twin! Aaron was an only child though and I only had sisters. At this point, I was so confused and overwhelmed. Panic was the only emotion I could feel as I felt like I was going through an identity crisis. I realized that this all started when I wore his hat. I reached to grab it off of my head…until I felt a hand touch my shoulder. My bro…I mean Aaron.

“Admiring yourself in the mirror, bro? Yeah, you’re a pretty handsome dude just like me. I think it runs in the blood, you know. You like that, right?” He placed his other hand on my head, pushing the hat tighter on my head. I nodded. I proceeded to flex, as I became self-absorbed with my own reflection. I always thought rather highly of myself, especially about my body. At this point, I couldn’t comprehend the paradox of me somehow being his own non-existent twin brother.

“You know, not every guy is lucky enough to have a cool brother like I do, let alone a twin. The two of us can play ball together, work out together, and even get all the chicks we want together. This is all you ever wanted, right?” He wasn’t necessarily wrong, but I wanted to be “with” Aaron, not be him. Whoever granted me this wish got it all wrong. But as I listened to him, I started to realize that maybe it wasn’t my wish to begin with.

“Yeah bro. This shit’s the life, dude.” I noticed Aaron’s face light up as I said that. The way I talked sounded like it came out of the mouth of some dudebro. I noticed his irresistible smirk that was always on his face when he was in a good mood. As I kept admiring myself in the mirror, I felt my mind slow…down...like it was on autopilot…

“That’s right…Just let it happen… I know it’s been a while, so it’s okay if you don’t remember, but you know that one trophy we won a couple years back? During senior year?”

“Fuck yeah, bro. I remember.” But I’ve never played baseball before…But…I have right? I know I have.

“You know you were the reason we won, right? One lucky hit in the bottom of the ninth, and you practically won us the game. I’ve never been more proud of you bro.” Aaron patted me on the back. I remembered that game fondly, even though I should have no recollection of it. That year, our baseball team was the best in the state. And I…led our team to a championship? As much as I tried to deny it in my head, the memories felt real. But why was he reminding me of this now?

“You didn’t do half bad yourself, bro.”

As Aaron and I kept chatting, the memories of being his twin brother kept flowing into my brain, as memories of my former life faded away. Turns out that I was the brother he never had. We were a pair. We complemented each other perfectly. I was actually the twin brother of the most popular guy in the school. I remember I thought he was hot…wait, what the fuck, bro? That’s gay as shit. And weird. This was my own twin we were talking about. Although I guess if I was a handsome stud, then he’d have to be too. After all, no girl can resist either one of us.

“So the hat is working…” Aaron whispered under his breath.

“What hat?”

“Nothing, bro! I was just saying how good your hat looks on you. Come on, let’s go.” I followed him, as my transformation was now complete.

From this day on, I was Aiden Moore, Aaron Moore’s twin brother. Except that’s who I was technically born as and that's who everyone already knew me as. Although we had a lot in common, I definitely felt more like a stereotypical jock. I was loud, cocky, and masculine, almost to the point of brutishness, compared to my brother who was a lot more laid-back and charismatic. Not that it was a bad thing, although most nerds and weaker men would disagree. But what me and Aaron did have in common was playing sports, working out, fucking chicks, and being the most popular guys in the school. I know I wanted to be closer to Aaron, but I never expected this. But at the same time, it felt good, almost pleasurable at times. I realized that in my new state, I could hardly last a day without an orgasm, whether it was in my grip or in some bitch’s pussy.

Two days later, I had biology again. I remembered I kinda struggled with this class. I sat behind my bro as usual. I was grateful for him since he always helped me with the homework. I noticed him talking to the professor in private when we got to class. When I asked him, he wouldn’t say. It wasn’t like him to keep secrets from me. We practically knew everything about each other after all. After class, I was called to stay after by Mr. Martin.

“Aiden Moore…Your brother told me to check up on you. Is everything alright? Did you need any guidance on the homework, too?”

“Never felt better, bro. I think I was just up too late partying the other day. And nah, I eventually figured it out, dude.” I conveniently hid the fact that I copied the answers off of some nerd.

“Good, good.” Mr. Martin smiled. “I won’t leave you too long. I know you two have your hands full with practice today. Hmmm…Still wearing that hat, I see. It suits you well, Aiden.” I saw him write something down in a notebook as I left. Mr. Martin was always cool. I felt like he understood me and my brother better than most teachers here. I couldn’t help but feel grateful for him, but for what? I quickly discarded that thought because it wasn’t important to me.

What was important to me was hitting the gym with my bros. I ditched class again, I don’t even remember what the class was anyways. Probably nothing important. As long as I pass and get to stay on the team, I couldn’t care less about how badly I do in school. I’m basically only here because I got some fancy scholarship.

At the gym, I always pushed myself to lift the heaviest weights. All of my bros were impressed with how much I could lift. Must run in the blood. After school, I went to practice with Aaron. We shared a room at the dorms, and on the weekends, we always went to the biggest parties our school had to offer. We always bragged to each other about what girls we slept with that night, almost like it was a competition. Man, this was the life. I never felt like I understood Aaron on a personal level until recently, but man, we were the luckiest pair of brothers in the school.

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wwooyology · 2 months ago

Text

After School Discipline | K.HJ

「pairing」 : hongjoong x fem!reader 「word count」 : 4.1k

「synopsis」 : you had failed the test that he worked so hard to help you 'study' for so of course you deserved the punishment that came along with it even if it felt like torture as you begged him to give you what you wanted, yet he never compiled, showing you who exactly has the reigns.

「genre」 : smut, prof!hongjoong, dad's bsf!hongjoong, age gap, university au(ish)

「warnings」 : MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!!!, cussing, teasing, edging, orgasm denial, daddy kink, petnames (babygirl, baby, sweetheart...), rough sex, unprotected sex, oral (m. receiving), face fucking, derogatory names (slut, cockslut), gagging, choking, clit play, creampie, public sex, slight hair pulling, bondage, spanking, lmk if I missed anything!!

part two ➻ here

The sun was shining brightly through the windows in the halls of the university as you walked down the hall with your best friend, Kara, talking about each other’s days thus far. You told her how your dad finally got the day off and even made breakfast for you before you left for class, and she pouted, asking why you hadn’t invited her over.

“Please, we both know your ass was passed out,” You laughed, bumping your shoulder against her playfully, and she sent you a glare, “you literally wake up like ten minutes before you’re supposed to leave and still miraculously make it here on time. Seriously, you need to teach me your ways.”

“Har har,” Kara rolled her eyes as she pulled her phone from her pocket, checking the time just as you stopped in front of your classroom door, “Oh, do you think you passed Professor Kim’s exam?”

At the mention of the exam, you felt your blood run cold, your body freezing in its spot as you recalled your ‘study’ session with the professor. You were perched in his lap at your kitchen table, his cock buried deep in your pussy as he talked you through the questions. However, you couldn’t focus at all; the only thing your mind was on was his dick and how you wished he would just move. Eventually, he noticed that you weren’t paying attention at all and threatened to leave you high and dry if you didn’t study, whispering promises in your ear if you listened.

“Just answer a few questions for me, babygirl, and Daddy will give you exactly what you want.” His voice was smooth as he let his lips brush against the shell of your ear, making you squirm in his lap, but you listened nonetheless. Then just like he promised, after you answered the questions he gave you correctly, he bent you over the dining table and fucked you into oblivion.

“Earth to y/n.” Kara giggled as she watched your face turn a deep shade of red, already knowing exactly what you were thinking about; she then reached out, patting your shoulder with a teasing smirk on her lips. “Don’t worry. I’m sure if you suck up to him, he’ll go easy on you.

You slapped her hand away with a pout, causing her to break out in a fit of giggles. You sent her a death glare, arms crossing over your chest. You then shoved her just enough to make her stumble a bit: " Why don’t you worry about flunking Mr. Jung’s class? We both know he isn’t forgiving.” A smug smirk tugged on your lips as she looked at you with wide eyes, but they quickly softened, and she returned your smug look.

“Jokes on you. I fail them on purpose!” She then stuck her tongue out at you before walking down the hall. You couldn’t help but laugh at her antics; were you surprised? Not even in the slightest. Kara had always been obsessed with the fox-eyed professor.

You then turn back around to look at the classroom door, dreading walking in and facing the very man you knew would ultimately punish you for flunking. Taking a deep breath, you square your shoulders and walk into the classroom.

As soon as you walked through the threshold, you felt a pair of eyes on you. Looking up, you met the dark eyes of your professor. The intensity of his gaze left a chill going down your spine as you swallowed thickly and quickly looked away. You then scrambled over to your seat, trying your best to avoid Hongjoong’s gaze at all costs.

Despite trying to avoid his gaze, you could still feel his eyes burning holes into your body, making the hairs on the back of your neck stand tall. You prayed that everyone would hurry and get to class so he would have no choice but to spare you, but it felt like an eternity passed before the last person walked into the room.

“Alright, everyone, find your seats.” Hearing his stern tone, your body instinctively straightened, your eyes flickering to the front of the room. Hongjoong stood next to his desk, holding up a stack of papers that were more than likely the exam that you had failed. Once everyone was settled in their seats, Hongjoong spoke once more, his eyes sweeping the room, “It would seem that we didn’t spend enough time on this unit, seeing as the majority of the class scored a low score.” His eyes then trailed over to you, “some lower than others.” The dark gleam in his eyes made you squirm in your seat, wishing that the ground would just swallow you whole.

He then spoke about how he would go easy on everyone seeing as it was a difficult topic, but he couldn’t promise that he would be so forgiving next time. However, it flowed in one ear and right the other when he stepped closer to you, handing back all of the graded exams.

“I am going to return your exam sheets, and we will go over the answers together as a class.” He instructed, and you heard a few groans and sighs of relief, but no one openly complained. Your gaze then shifted down to the notebook in front of you, fiddling with your pen until your exam was placed in your line of sight. Swallowing down the lump in your throat, your eyes trailed from the paper to Hongjoong’s eyes, your heart lurching into your throat when you locked eyes. His gaze alone told you that you were in trouble far before his words were able to. “See me after class, Ms. Jeong.”

You reached out to grab your test with shaky hands, but Hongjoong didn’t release his grip on the paper, causing you to look up and catch his raised eyebrow. Letting out a shaky breath, you parted your lips slightly before speaking, “Yes, sir.”

Satisfied, he nodded before moving on, but you felt heat rush up your neck when you heard a mixture of snickers and ‘ooos’ from the students around you. All of them thought that you were in deep trouble and they wouldn’t be wrong, except it wasn’t exactly the kind of trouble that they were thinking.

After all of the papers were passed back out Hongjoong made his way back to his desk before turning to look at the class once more. You tried your best to focus on what he was going over, but your mind kept wandering to what exactly he was going to do when he got you alone. Watching his slim finger write on the chalkboard did nothing to ease the heat that was pooling in your core.

Noticing that you were getting distracted, Hongjoong asked the class a question before pointing you out individually, knowing damn well that you had no idea what he had just asked. And the deer caught in headlights expression on your face just confirmed his suspicions. He let out a faux disappointed sigh, arms crossing over his chest.

“Please make sure to pay attention in class, Ms. Jeong.” He reprimanded you, and you felt your face burn red from embarrassment. It only grew more when you heard a few students quietly laughing off to your side.

Sinking down in your seat you mumbled a small apology, not missing the sinister smirk that was tugging on the older male’s lips. You knew that he was doing this on purpose, adding it on to your list of punishments he was going to be giving you in less than an hour. So you knew that he wasn’t about to be easy on you. Not in the slightest.

You then spent the rest of the class trying your best to pay attention, despite the growing heat in the pit of your stomach or how your core would ache any time Hongjoong let his gaze linger for just a moment too long. It was driving you up a wall, but you didn’t want to get called out again or make your punishment any worse than it already was. So you tried your best to push the growing need down and focus on your school work.

After what felt like an eternity, class had finally wrapped up, and the bell signaling the end of class rang. You stayed in your seat, hands sitting in your lap, and your fingers fiddled with the hem of your skirt as you watched all of the students pile out. You didn’t even bother packing up your things, knowing that it would be pointless in the end, so you just sat quietly until everyone was gone.

When the door finally closed behind the last person you stood from your seat with shaky legs, eyes moving up to find Hongjoong leaning against his desk, eyes already fixed on you. Without a word, he raised a hand and motioned you forward with his index and middle fingers, eyes daring you to go against him.

Knowing better than to disobey him, you bit your lip and slowly made your way towards him until you were standing just a few feet in front of him. He clicked his tongue, an annoyed expression flashing across his face as he moved forward, pushing you down to your knees. A gasp fell from your lips as your hands and knees met the cool ground, but you quickly glanced back up at the older man, knowing that you would only annoy him more if you didn’t.

“It’s such a shame. We went over those test questions for such a long time, and you got all of the answers correct, yet…” He reached down, his fingers brushing along your jaw, a trail of goosebumps following his touch, “You still failed the test; why is that babygirl?” He hummed before harshly grabbing your chin, jerking your head back in his direction the moment you started to look away and you looked up at him with wide eyes. “Did I fuck all of the answers out of that pretty head of yours?”

His head tilted to the side, his thumb brushing over your bottom lip, and you instantly opened your mouth, allowing him to slip his finger into your mouth. A sinister smirk tugged on his lips as he pressed down on your tongue, and you wrapped your pretty lips around his finger, sucking gently.

“Hmm, do you think just because you’re acting so obedient now, I won’t be too rough?” He feigned pity before pulling his thumb from your mouth and wrapping his fingers around your throat, eliciting a gasp from you. “You’ve been a naughty girl, baby, and daddy has to displent his baby, right?” He asked, but you knew that it was more of a statement rather than an actual question. His tongue ran over his teeth as he watched you squirm under his hold, eyes pleading with him as your thighs pressed tightly together.

Crouching down, he pulled you forward until you were sitting on the palm of your hands once more, his face just a breath away from yours.

“Now be a good girl and put that sweet mouth of yours to work, and I might think about letting you cum.” He cooed, his hand moving from your neck back to your jaw before standing straight, letting his fingers slip from your skin.

As soon as he was standing, you crawled forward, hands going for the waistband of his slacks. Your fingers made quick work of his belt before undoing the button. Hongjoong watches in amusement as you move with urgency to get his already hard cock out of its confinement. A cute little gasp fell from your lips when it sprung free, nearly hitting your cheek.

You let go of his slacks as well as his underwear, letting them pool at his feet. Your mouth watered, and you leaned forward, taking him into your hands, admiring the pearls of precum that decorated his tip. Hongjoong watched you with a heated gaze as you grabbed his cock at the base before pressing feather-light kisses along his shaft. His fingers curled around the edge of his desk as you laid your tongue flat, licking a stripe up to his tip before encasing him in your mouth.

Your eyes flickered up to meet his, watching his jaw tense as you took him further into your mouth. The taste of precum tingled against your tastebuds, making you hum softly, eliciting a deep groan from Hongjoong.

“Fuckkk…” His head fell back for a moment before he let his gaze fall right back on you, one of his hands moving to brush some of the hair out of your face. “You’re such a dirty girl, sucking my dick like your favorite candy.” You moaned around him, the vibrations making his dick twitch in your mouth.

He then gathered your hair in a makeshift ponytail, curses falling from his lips when your tongue pressed against the vein that ran along the side of his cock. Your thighs pressed together as you listened to all of the noises that were leaving his mouth, trying your best to relieve the pressure. Your fingers dug into Hongjoong’s thighs as you fought the urge to slip one of your hands under your skirt, knowing that doing so would only land you in more trouble.

His grip on your hair grew tighter as his hips bucked forward, the tip hitting the back of your throat. You gagged at the sudden intrusion, tears stinging in the corner of your eyes.

“Shit, babygirl,” He groans as he thrusts his hips forward once more, pleasure clouding his mind as he feels your throat contract around his shaft. Your eyes squeezed shut as you let him continue to fuck your throat, tears spilling from your eyelashes until Hongjoong tugged on your hair. “Uh huh darling, keep those pretty eyes open.” His tone was stern, causing you to whine around his cock, your knees starting to ache from the cool, hard ground, but the pain only added to the pleasure.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” Hongjoong chanted as his hips started to falter, his cock twitching in your mouth before you felt spurts of his hot seed coating the back of your throat. He stilled inside of your mouth for a moment, enjoying the way you struggled to breathe around him, tears spilling from your pretty eyes, trailing down to mix in with the saliva that spilled from the corner of your lips. After a few moments, he pulled out of your mouth, allowing you to breathe properly, and let go of your hair before cupping your face. “Look at you, darling…” His thumb swiped across your bottom lip, smearing the remainder of your lipstick, an almost predatory gaze in his eyes, “such a pretty mess for me.”

Your thighs squeezed together at his words. A whine fell from your lips, and Hongjoong smirked before pulling you to your feet. His hand then found your hip, pulling your body flush against his. His face dipped down to your neck, pressing hot, open-mouth kisses along your skin.

“D-Daddy…” You breathed out, your hands moving up to snake around his neck. However, he quickly caught your wrist.

Before you could even utter a word, he switched places with you, pressing your body down against the surface of his desk. A loud gasp fell from your lips from the sudden movement, and your head turned to look at the older man.

“You don’t get to touch me, baby,” He cooed, grabbing your arms once more and gathering your wrists into his hand. You opened your mouth to protest, but the dark look he gave you made your body shiver, and you closed your mouth. All you could do was watch as he pulled his tie off before wrapping it around your wrists and pulling its tights. His hands then wandered down your sides, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. Getting down to your skirt, he hiked it further up your hips, giving him the perfect view of the pink lace panties you were wearing.

“Dadd–” Your words were cut off by a moan that tore through your lips when he landed a harsh smack on your ass, fingers rubbing the now red skin.

“You were just waiting to get punished, weren’t you?” He spanked you again, relishing in the mewls that were leaving your lips. “Such a naughty little slut.” He growled, pulling the band of your underwear before letting it snap back in place, eliciting a whine from your parted lips. The stinging pain from him spanking you and where the elastic met your skin made your head spin, arousal dripping from your throbbing cunt.

He then grabbed the fabric once more, but with more strength, and before you even realized what he was doing, the sound of fabric ripping filled the air. You whined about how they were expensive, but Hongjoong didn’t wanna hear any of it. Leaning against you, he made sure to press his hips against yours, making sure you could feel his aching cock. He brought the tattered fabric into your view, his lips right next to your ear as he spoke.

“Open up, sweetheart.” His voice was sweet, yet his actions were anything but that as he barely let you part your lips before he was shoving the fabric between your lips. A muffled moan then left your gagged mouth as he pressed his hips further against yours. “Can’t have anyone hear how much of a cockslut you are now, can we?”

He then stood straight once more, grabbing your hip in one hand and then his dick with the other. Teasing your soaping cunt with his tip, Hongjoong watched with a sinister grin as you clenched around nothing, muffled mewls leaving your lips. Your mind started to go fuzzy with need the more he continued to play with you, and your hips started to push back against him, your body begging him to stop teasing.

“Aww, do you want me to fuck you?” Hongjoong’s tone was condescending as he pressed his tip into you just to pull it right back out, his grip tight on your hips to halt your movements, “too bad, sluts don’t get to make requests.”

A loud muffled cry fell from your lips as his hand made contact with the fat of your ass once more, tears stinging in the corners of your eyes. Your body started to tremble under his hold as he relentlessly played with your body until you were sobbing, begging him to just fuck you.

Pleas fell from your lips as your nails dug into the palm of your hands, and Hongjoong smirked sinisterly as he stopped all of his movements. Your ears started to ring as you tried to make sense of what he was doing but your mind was far too fogged to even think coherently.

A choked moan tore from your lips when he suddenly thrust into you all in one go, your slick making it easier to slide right in. Buried to the hilt, he stopped moving once again, relishing in your whines and how you tried to fight against his hold to move. His lips then curled up into a snarl as you continued to try and disobey him, and his grip grew even tighter on your hips, his nails leaving crescent-shaped indents in your skin.

“Stop fucking moving.” He growled, and you whined but stopped moving, knowing that you would only be digging a deeper hole for yourself if you didn’t listen, “now don’t you dare think about cumming before I tell you to.”

You wanted to protest, but Hongjoong didn’t give you a chance before he started plowing into you mercilessly. Your body trembled violently as his tip brushed over your sweet spot with every thrust, a mixture of tears and spit covering your face as you slowly started to lose yourself in the pleasure.

Hongjoong knew your body like the back of his hand, knew all of the right buttons to push and tweak that would have you coming undone in seconds. So it wasn’t a surprise to him when your pitch grew higher, and your cunt squeezed around him like a vice. His jaw tightened as he released your hip with one hand only to trail it down your back and tangle it into your messy hair. A choked muffled cry fell from your lips as he pulled your body up.

“Are you gonna cum?” He asked, but the way you clenched around him told him that you were, even when you shook your head no. “Does my little slut wanna cum?” His voice was strangely sweet as he released your hair only to grab your neck, your eyes rolling as he squeezed your soft flesh. Stars started to dance across your vision the longer he continued to fuck into you.

He continued his rough pace until he knew you were close and then stopped. You started to lose count of how many times he’s edged you, your mind far too foggy, yet you still had enough strength to beg him to let you cum despite the piece of fabric that constricts your airway.

Hongjoong enjoyed to teary, fucked outlook on your flushed face, a sight he would never get tired of seeing. He peppered your neck with feather-light kisses, knowing better than to leave marks that would have your father and friends questioning where they came from. Then, when he felt himself close to his own high, he decided that he would finally let you have what you’ve been begging for.

A strangled cry fell from your lips when his other hand snaked down to toy with your puffy clit, circling it in tight figure eights. Your eyes squeezed shut, pushing more tears out as you prepared yourself for him to stop once again.

But he didn’t.

“Cum for daddy babygirl, make a mess all over my cock.” Hongjoong nipped at your ear, and your mind went reeling as white spots started to cloud your vision as he fucked into you with abandon. Playing with your small bundle of nerves like his favorite instrument. Then, without any warning, your orgasm washed over you, a loud muffled cry falling from your lips, and your bound hands pressed against his abdomen. “Look at that, you can actually follow directions like a good girl, who would have thought.” He mocked you as he fucked you through your orgasm, his fingers never leaving your clit. His own high right on the tip of his tongue as you squeezed around him like you never wanted him to leave, and his jaw clenched tightly. Letting up on your clit his hand found purchase on your hip once more before leaning forward, his lips brushing over your ear. “Do you think you deserve my cum?”

He watched in amusement as you nodded your head like a bobblehead, your teary eyes pleading with him as you looked back. Muffled sounds of his name and pleas fell from your lips, hoping that he would listen, but the sinister gleam in his eye sent a chill down your spine.

“Tell me…” He released your neck before grabbing your now-soaked panties and pulling them from your swollen lips, “do you think you deserve my cum?”

“Please! I’ll be a good girl, daddy just give me your cum! Please, please, please!” You sounded like a broken record and Hongjoong smirked as he picked his pace up once more, your now unmuffled moans bouncing off of the walls. Surely, anyone walking by would be able to hear and know exactly what was going on inside, and it excited Hongjoong more than he thought it would.

“Hmm… then you better not let a drop go to waste.” He growled before he felt himself burst, painting your gummy walls white with his seed, and you cried out at the warm feeling.

“Thank you…” You breathed out as you leaned back against Hongjoong, trying to catch your breath after the intensity of everything.

Hongjoong’s grip loosened as he rubbed your hips and whispered sweet nothings in your ear until your breathing regulated. He then nipped at your ear causing your body to jolt slightly, eyes opening to look back at him.

“Are you tagging along with your father this weekend for dinner?” His voice was smooth as he pressed lingering kisses along the warm skin of your neck, making you shiver. You nodded before your head rolled to the side to give him more access, your body growing warm once again. “Good, then we can go over your test, and I can show you exactly where you went wrong.”

His word left a shiver to run down your spine as you knew exactly what he meant by that, and as much as it worried you because your father would be there, it excited you even more at the thought of screwing around right under his nose.

And you found yourself longing for the weekend to come as soon as possible.

@wwooyology | Do not steal, plagiarise, translate, or repost any of my work

𝖉𝖎𝖘𝖈𝖑𝖆𝖎𝖒𝖊𝖗 : ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪꜱ ɴᴏ ᴡᴀʏ ᴀ ᴛʀᴜᴇ ʀᴇᴘʀᴇꜱᴇɴᴛᴀᴛɪᴏɴ ᴏꜰ ᴀɴʏ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴇᴍʙᴇʀꜱ. ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪꜱ ᴘᴜʀᴇʟʏ ꜰɪᴄᴛɪᴏɴ ᴀɴᴅ ꜰᴏʀ ᴛʜᴇ ᴇɴᴊᴏʏᴍᴇɴᴛ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ᴀɴᴅ ɴᴏᴛ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ ᴛᴀᴋᴇɴ ꜱᴇʀɪᴏᴜꜱʟʏ.

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hirukochan · 1 year ago

Note

Can I please request a snape smut fic? The reader and him have been friends since school and she is in love with him only he does not know it or realize his feelings till Sirius is flirting with her and it leads to a fight between them leading to them confessing to their feelings. Maybe some dirty talk biting and rough smut

Sooo...I got a bit carried away with this...definetly not the roughest smut I've written, but I hope you like it anyway.

Severus and his sunshine

Pairing: Severus Snape x fem!reader

warnings: Smut, loss of virginity

Wordcount: 7402 (oops...)

Read on Ao3 or below the cut:

“To the youngest Professor in the history of Hogwarts!” You cheer and raise your glass clumsily into the air, spilling half your drink down your arm. “Oops-” You giggle.

It’s not the first drink of the evening and not the first time you toast to Severus’ new job - and certainly not the last. It bears repeating after all because how fucking awesome is this? You have always known that Severus is the most intelligent and brilliant and ingenious person you’d ever meet! It’s unfair - no, a bloody shame! - how many people never realised it just because Severus’ is a bit awkward and rude and- alright he’s a downright cunt sometimes but he has every bloody right to be with the road his life has taken so far! With a father like that and that awful Potter and his stupid goons!

“We need to cut you off.” He drawls, the corner of his lips curling, and tries to snatch your glass from you. You jump off the chair you're standing on and cradle your drink protectively to your chest, firewhiskey dripping down your arm.

“Try and I’ll bite your finger off!”

“You’re drunk.”

“No, I’m not.” Severus shakes his head but doesn’t try to get your drink again, instead focusing on his own (the second of the evening - what a bore). The pub is crowded and loud, nobody pays any attention to the two of you sitting at a table in the corner.

You plop back down on your chair and take a sip of your drink.

Severus’ eyes have gone distant again. That happens a lot lately. Like something is on his mind that he lacks the words to tell you. Social interactions aren’t his strong suit. You’re the ‘Severus-translator’ Lily used to joke when you three were still friends because you always knew what Severus wanted to say but couldn’t. You always made sure he was included in conversations, told others to shut up so he could speak or smooth over his rough edges whenever someone didn’t get Severus’ dry and dark sense of humour.

One look at him from across the Great Hall during breakfast and you knew whether he was in a good or bad mood. You knew when he had a nightmare the night before and needed a gentler touch or when to bluntly tell him he’s being a cunt.

This you can’t seem to figure out.

He smiles less these days. Even less than usual. The four years since you finished school have been hard, especially for him, especially with the war.

Emotions are not Severus’ thing.

His long black hair falls into his face, hiding his grave expression from the world and you. His face has lost its boyish features. His jaw is more prominent, complementing his high cheekbones. His hooked nose suits him. It’s something about the proportions or symmetry of his face - you can’t quite put your finger on it. Most people seem to be put off by his appearance, but to you he has always held something uniquely beautiful.

He taps his finger against his glass repeatedly. His fingernails are still painted black…You made him let you paint them last time he was at your flat. It suits him.

You place your hand over his, stopping his fidgeting. You wish you’d know what’s going on in his head, clearly whatever it is puts him on edge, but you trust he’ll talk to you when he is ready.

“You’ll be great.” You say. “I have no doubt. You’re a bloody genius, Severus! These kids are so lucky. They can learn so much from you!”

“I am certain they will share your attitude.” He says sardonically and you snort. Severus downs his drink and takes your empty glass to get another round (and probably a glass of water for you because he’s such a mum sometimes). You smirk as you watch him make his way through the crowd.

He sticks out like a sore thumb in these new robes he got, but you think they too suit him. It’s probably the first time he isn’t wearing hand-me-downs. He’s wearing all black of course. The most colour you ever saw him wear was at Hogwarts in the form of his emerald green school tie.

Severus looks intimidating. It makes him look older, stronger somehow. It’s such a stark difference to the beat up jeans, the The Cure bandshirt you gifted him one Christmas and the shabby leather jacket.

But not in a bad way.

He looks good.

Maybe it’s the fact he has grown taller since graduation. He’s a head taller than he used to be and shed his bend over posture. Escaping both Hogwarts and his recently deceased father agrees with him. That and your continued effort of forcing him to eat three whole meals a day, every day.

His wide shoulders and dark hair disappear behind people and you rip your eyes from the spot you last saw him.

So much has changed in the last four years but that little flutter in your heart whenever you look at him has not changed. When it first started in your fourth year you didn’t even realise what it was about. You’d start stammering around him, earning you silent glares and raised eyebrows from Severus at which you’d blush. After an embarrassingly long time you finally accepted that you had developed a crush on your best friend.

You’re too terrified of losing him as a friend to ever tell him though.

Severus isn’t good with feelings. They are too complicated. Too messy. He doesn’t need messy. His life is messy enough and so you swore to yourself to never tell him.

Your friendship was already a miracle. You are his polar opposite. You are outgoing and friendly, polite - too polite sometimes - bubbly and optimistic. Severus is - well Severus. He is grumpy and quiet and rude.

You decided to befriend him in your first year. You saw him during the sorting and something about him pulled you in. You really wanted to get to know him and when you heard him talk during your first potions class you made the decision to gain his friendship however long it would take.

You started by sitting at the table next to his in the library. You’d sit there everyday, quietly doing your homework and when he stopped shooting you irritated looks when he thought you weren’t looking, you moved to sitting at his table. You simply smiled at the befuddled Severus and did your work.

You approached befriending Severus like one might approach gaining the trust of a wild animal. Over the year a truce-kind-of study group had formed between you.

Towards the end of term he asked for your help collecting some things from the forbidden forest - Lily would never break school rules, but you are certain Severus didn’t actually need help, he just didn’t know how to tell you he wanted to spend time with you.

During the summer you send him letters, even after not receiving any back from him and when you saw him by himself in the Hogwarts Express in September you sat down next to him and you’ve been friends since.

You know a romance is even less likely than your friendship was.

“Merlin! I almost didn’t fucking recognise you!” A familiar voice says and you throw up a little in your mouth.

“Black.” You say monotonous. As if he owns the place Black sits down opposite of you on Severus’ currently empty chair.

“You’re hot! How come we never snogged in school?”

“Because whenever I am forced to face the fact that you exist I want to smash my head against a wall.” You say with a honey-sweet tone of voice at which Black’s grin only grows. He doesn’t get the hint.

“How come you’re drinking alone, gorgeous?” Black continues undeterred, a poised and arrogant grin on his lips.

“I’m not.” His grin wavers ever so slightly but Sirius Black has always believed himself so utterly irresistible that such small details don’t matter to him.

“I don’t see anyone.” He is wearing muggle clothes, trying just a tad too hard to look like a rockstar, but he talks and holds himself like a pureblood still. He might have run away from home but he is still living off of his family’s wealth and he hasn’t changed one bit since school.

Black is (as usual) utterly unaware that he isn’t welcome. Black’s eyes roam over your face and down to your chest like he is appraising you, determining how much effort you are worth putting into seducing you.

“I think it’s fate we meet like this! You look-” He licks his lips and a shiver of disgust rushes over your arms. “So different. Bet you cut loose that tosser Snivellus. He was clearly dragging you under. A frown on such a pretty face should be considered a fucking crime.” You clench your fists under the table. You have your wand in your boot. It would be so easy to hex him-

“Someone as stunning as you- Oi! I was about to head to this club in Dublin that recently opened to meet Moony and Wormtail - You should join me!” He winks.

“As I said - I am here with someone.”

“But you could be with me!” He laughs as if he just made a joke but you know he is dead serious. He thinks you’d gladly ditched whomever you are here with for the chance of spending time with him. “Bring her too - the more the merrier.” There is a not so subtle suggestive tone to his words and he wiggles his eyebrows. “Come on gorgeous! Someone as sexy as you should not be so uptight! Let’s have some fun, let loose a little - it’ll be worthwhile to you, I swear.”

“What a compelling offer.” Sneers Severus and your heart drops. Great. “I wonder how many you made that promise to, Black, and how many you left disappointed.” Black’s grin falters for a split second.

That’s right.

Severus is different.

He stands taller. He’s fierce and strong and you aren’t at Hogwarts anymore where it’s four against one with the teachers turning a blind eye. You have no doubt Severus would pull out his nastiest curses on Black given the chance.

“Let’s leave, Sev.”

“Come on, gorgeous!”

“That’s not her name, but one can hardly expect a simpleton like you to care for such fine details as names.”

“Sev.”

“No wonder she looked like somebody was fucking murdered in front of her eyes when I found her - how Lily could bear being close to you for so long I’ll never understand.” Black turns towards you. “Kick this dick to the curb - I’ll buy you a drink, gorgeous.”

“She does not need you for that-”

“I can buy my own drinks.” You hiss and when Severus still makes no move towards leaving, you grab your jacket and storm off. Let them duel like little children if they want, but you won’t get in the middle of that.

The cold hair of the night hits you while you run down the street. Tears sting in your eyes and you feel so stupid and pathetic for crying. Nothing even happened. You don’t know what’s going on- that’s a lie. Severus sounded like he was about to suggest you’re with him and therefore don’t need Black to buy you drinks which…it’s not wrong. You were at the pub with Severus and you were going to make him pay (he’s a Professor now after all and from what Sev let on the pay isn’t bad) but it wasn’t a date. And Severus suggesting or intending to suggest that hurts. You want it to be a date goddamn! You’ve wanted it for over eight years!

Severus calls your name but you just wrap your arms tighter around yourself and continue down the empty street on the outskirts of London.

“Just wait!” He catches up to you. “What a fucking wanker.” He huffs.

“Mh.”

“What did he say to you? I should have hexed him! I knew it!”

“Drop it.”

“No, I will not drop it! He made you cry- come on tell me what he said and I’ll-”

“What?!” Abruptly you stop walking and spin around to face Severus. He looks at you perplexed, his cloak billowing behind him in the breeze. “You’ll go and start a duel? Why? I told you to drop it.”

“He’s a fucking cavemen! Just the way he looked at you-” Severus grimaces. A muscle in his jaw tenses and he flexes his wand hand.

“Why the fuck do you suddenly feel the need to defend my honour?! You just ignored me in there- nevermind. I’m tired. I want to go home.”

“Don’t let Black ruin our night-”

“You ruined our night! I asked you to leave, you ignored me. I ask you to drop it, you ignore me. I don’t want you to fight Black! We aren’t at school anymore - you’ll get arrested!” Something you have never before seen crosses through Severus’ eyes. Something dark. A cold shiver runs down your spine and you take an involuntary step back.

“I wouldn’t be arrested, Sunshine.” He says, voice low, rumbling like thunder, a muttered promise of destruction and ruin and heat pools in your belly. That he called you by his nickname for you which he uses very sparingly, if ever, doesn’t help the matter. Severus takes a step forward. The heat morphs into a twisting, curling mass that takes your breath away. Severus looms over you, shadows dancing over his pale skin, drawing his cheekbones into an even sharper contrast and you gulp.

“You think Luci is going to come and rescue you?”

“Lucius? I don’t need Lucius for that.”

“Do you even fucking hear yourself?!” Your voice echoes through the empty streets, thrown back off the house.

“He made you cry!”

“Why does it matter?!”

“Because-” He clenches his jaw, his fists shake with suppressed rage. His nostrils flare and for a split second a tingling sensation winds around your heart at the expression in his eyes - the softness in the middle of a raging storm. A lone, untouched, unbothered island in the midst of a roaring ocean.

Severus exhales. Tension falls off his frame and the expression is gone.

“Fine.” He says quietly. “Let’s go then.” And he walks past you.

“No.” You can hear his steps stop behind you. Tears drip over your cheeks and you stubbornly wipe them away. “Say what you wanted to say.”

“I thought you’re tired.”

“Say it.”

“It’s- it doesn’t matter.”

“I’m not moving until you say it.” You cross your arms in front of your chest. Behind you Severus sighs and you can practically hear him pinch the bridge of his nose like he does whenever you annoy him.

“You sound like a spoiled child.”

“Good practice then. You’ll have to deal with a lot of those, Professor.”

“Are you- I have the feeling you’re angry with me.” You spin around and glare at Severus. He’s not good with emotions, sure - but now he’s just being dense.

“What made you think that?” You deadpan. He rolls his eyes and his disregard for your feelings drives you mad.

“Black’s a bastard-”

“This is Warren all over again!”

“Yeah and I was fucking right about Warren wasn’t I?” A vein on his forehead pulses, but you don’t give a shit. Warren was your first boyfriend and Severus behaved absolutely rotten towards you.

“Warren was a huge mistake, yes - but he was my mistake to make! What- do you actually fucking think I would ever fucking touch Black? Just the thought gives me an STD!” The barest flicker of amusement flashes over Severus’ features. “I just- I don’t get why you overreact like this everytime I talk to a guy. And it’s not like I was engaging Black there! The fucknugget is just to stupid to get a hint!”

“I-”

“There it is again! You did it again! What is it that you can’t tell me? Come on Sev! You can tell me everything. When did you start having secrets from me?” It’s a hit to your ego as much as you don’t like admitting it.

You have always been Severus’ safespace.

He told you things he never even told Lily! Something you didn’t know until third year when Lily asked whether Severus’ parents are ‘fighting again’ when you knew Tobias dickward Snape beat Sev with his belt the day before the Hogwarts Express left for the new term. You fucking healed him in you compartment because his ribs were broken and she asked whether they were fighting.

Why can’t he tell you this?

Another tear slips over your lower lid and slides down your check. Your bottom lip quivers. You suppress a sniffle and nod.

You have never felt further away from him than you do at this precise moment. It feels like Severus is sand slipping through your fingers and the harder you try to hold onto him, to the way it was before, the faster he slips away. Maybe too much has changed. Maybe he’s too different. Maybe this unlikely friendship was doomed from the beginning.

You know you’re about to start bawling and that’s the last you want Severus to see.

“Alright…I see.” You whisper. “Life’s different now. We’re keeping secrets now…”

“Sunshine-”

“No- no, ‘tis fine-” You roughly wipe your eyes. “See you- see you sometime….congratulations again.” You turn around to find a quiet alleyway to disapparate to your flat and break down there like a pathetic little teen that got her pathetic little heart broken without ever even working up the courage to confess her pathetic feelings.

Your steps sound horribly loud in the dark, cold night and with every step you take away from Severus you feel like you’re losing him more, every step is another crack, another break, another insurmountable obstacle between you. The cold wind cuts through your clothes with ease and you shiver.

“I love you.”

You stop dead in your tracks. Your heart skips a beat or two or maybe it forgets how to work entirely.

Severus’ voice is quiet, uncertain like it has not been since second year when he thought you didn’t want to be friends with him anymore after he lashed out at you.

“Sunshine- I knew Warren would only hurt you. That he’s not good enough for you. He bragged in the Slytherin common room that you showed him your boobs- He said all sorts of awful things and I- I just sat there. I should have said something, defended you, made him shut up but- Warren was two years above us and…” He takes a shuddering breath, dispelling old shame and insecurity from his voice. “Black’s just like that. He never cared for you before and now all of a sudden he is dying to go out with you? You don’t even realise it, Sunshine but- you- you are stunning. You have changed so much since school, you are- fuck I don’t know- words-” He sighs and rubs his hands over his face.

You feel numb and like you’re on fire at the same time. Of course you knew Warren spread some shit about you around, it’s why you broke up and broke his nose in the process for good measure, earning three weeks detention with McGonagall, but you wished you would have known sooner...

And- Severus loves you? No- that can’t be right- He’s in love with Lily- it’s always been Lily-

“You’re happier somehow- you- you’re radiant and beautiful and- you’ve grown up so much and- and- I love you. I’ve loved you for years- I want to protect you. I want to guard your happiness and yes I’d go back to knock out every single one of Black’s teeth for talking to you like that. You just have to say the word - sunshine - I’m pretty sure there’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you. And I know I’m not bloody good enough for you- I am rude and surly and miserable to be around - I don’t expect you to feel the same…I- fuck I don’t know-”

“You love me?”

“I love you.”

“I thought you love Lily.”

“Lily is- was- still is- I have no goddamn clue- she’s like a sister. I love her. And I think marrying Potter was a huge mistake and that she’ll divorce him in about three years - if she manages to stand him that long and when she does I hope- I hope we can mend our friendship…maybe- but- but I don’t love her like that. Not like I love you.”

Severus loves you.

Has loved you for years.

Severus loves you… You swirl around and before your anxiety can overpower your heart, screaming and aching and thrashing about in your chest you cup his face with your trembling hands and press your lips against his.

Severus stiffens. For a moment you just stand there, on your tiptoes to be able to reach him, holding onto him, feeling his heat against you, your lips exploding with electrifying tingling. Your stomach clenches and twists, flip flops and gives birth to a thousand erratic butterflies and all flutter around in a whirlwind of emotions that are too colourful, too many, too intense to ever find words worthy of describing the sensation.

Cautiously Severus puts his hands on your back and moves his lips against yours. You’re still crying, tears stream over your cheeks and run along the curves of your face to your lips.

As if woken from an enchanted slumber, Severus drags you against his chest and kisses you fiercely. One arm wrapped around your back and clutching at your waist, and one hand cradling the back of your head, long slender fingers threading through your hair. You grab the front of his robes and cling to him.

You both stumble a few steps and your back hits the brick wall of a house. Severus licks along the seam of your lips which you happily part for him. Your kiss grows sloppy and desperate. Your tongues meet gingerly at first but soon the slight air of discomfort and wariness at this development vanishes, flies away into the cool air of the night, gone and forgotten, as unimportant as your stupid fight.

Severus is kissing you. You are finally kissing Severus. He loves you. He has loved you for years.

Everything is good.

“Sev-” You whimper against his lips between two kisses. You try to break them, to wrench an inch of air between you but Severus is like a man dying of thirst that finally found a water source and is clenching his burning thirst. “Sev-” You push against his chest. Severus releases your lips, but doesn’t move away, doesn’t let go of you.

He leans his forehead against yours and blinks back at you, his dark eyes seemingly trying to pervade yours, to find a direct path to your deepest thoughts, a link between you and him that is untouchable by anybody else, that runs deeper than any other connection between two people.

“Don’t you want to invite me back to your place?” You murmur and tug playfully at the button just above his throat. Severus’ eyes darken. A muscle in his jaw jumps. Your cunt clenches around nothing. Needy, desperate, wanting.

He clears his throat and steps back. How the fuck does he still look put together? How can he manage to reign in that storm in his eyes so expertly, so fast and clean while you’re a panting, sweaty, needy mess after just a few damn kisses?

“You won’t like what I’d do then.” He says, voice heavy with what he leaves unsaid. You push yourself off the wall and wrap your arms around his shoulders. You trail a few chaste kisses up the side of his jaw and flick the tip of your tongue over his earlobe. Severus inhales sharply and flexes his hands again.

“I don’t break easy, Sev.” You whisper and press a kiss to his ear. “You should know that.” He takes another shuddering breath and just when you think you’ll have to deal with the aftermath of his kiss on your own while picturing him nestled between your thighs (once again), he pulls you against his chest and holds you in a bone-breaking grip. You feel the familiar pull of side-along apparition and in the next moment you smell the even more familiar, dusty scent of Severus’ house. The smell of books is new, added after Severus renovated the house enough to evict his father’s influences and put his own touch to it - namely by adding a shittone of books.

Severus doesn’t give you time to catch your breath. He grabs your hand and pulls you up the stairs. You giggle and run to keep up with him. He practically kicks the door to his old room open (you know for a fact he has not even touched the door to his parents room since his father died) and crushes his lips against yours as soon as he pulls you over the threshold.

The burn marks from where Severus used to zap flies with his wand are still on the ceiling. The little pencil sketches you made near the baseboards are as well. He replaced his bed though. A brand new double which you are being steered towards now.

“Severus-” You moan against his lips and tear at the buttons of his new robes.

“Is this real?” He whispers back and leans his forehead against yours again, watching you struggle with his clothes. “I’ve pictured this so many times- thought about how I would feel to have you here- is this happening? Or am I sleeping?”

“It’s real.” You say, lips against his recently freed throat. “I’m here.”

“You’re here…”

“Severus-” You hesitate and pause your quest of revealing Severus’ body to your eyes. “I’ve never done this-” Suddenly you feel shaky and overwhelmed.

“Warren-?”

“Is full of shit. He lied- about all of it. Have you-” He nods, but there’s a distant expression in his eyes that tells you it’s not something he wants to talk about. Probably something he’s ashamed of. You know the kind of company Lucius, Mulciber, Rosier and the other’s like to keep and don’t pry further.

“I’ll trust you then.” You murmur and sit down on the bed, pulling Severus down with you.

“I’d never want to hurt you, Sunshine.” You kiss and between kisses scoot up the bed until your head is resting on the soft pillows and Severus’ lean body between your thighs. “I’ll take care of you.” He mutters against the corner of your mouth and kisses your cheek. “Such good care.” He trails down your jaw. “Like Black or Warren never fucking could.”

“I never wanted them.” You moan. Your body moves on its own, knowing precisely what you want and need even if your mind has yet to catch up. Your legs wrap around his hips, your back arches, pressing your breasts to his chest. You thread your fingers through his silky hair. “Only you.”

“Me?”

“Only you. Always you. Whenever I thought about it…when I pictured how it would feel while touching myself I only ever pictured you.”

“Oh sunshine-” He groans and rolls his hips against you.

“Sev-” Severus draws his wand and mutters a quick spell. Something curls in your stomach, it’s the weirdest sensation and for a second you are utterly confused, but then your gaze meets Severus’ and you understand. Contraception spell. You didn’t even think of that. Of course Severus did. You smile.

He mutters another charm and your clothes vanish. You squeak, blush and hide your face behind your hands.

You can hear the clanking of wood hitting wood as Severus tosses his wand onto the nightstand.

“You- fuck…” Cautiously you peek between your fingers. A faint pink tinge has spread over Severus’ cheeks and nose, down to his now fully exposed neck. He looks cute. Adorable. You take a deep breath and drop your hands. This is Severus. Your Severus. There is nothing to be afraid of with him. “You put to shame all great beauties of the comprehensive history of this world.” His words brush over your skin like a tender caress and make you shiver and burn with embarrassed heat at the same time.

“Severus-”

“It’s true. The old greek masters wish they would have had a model like you sit for their marmour statues. Such beauty has to be preserved for the ages - but you…you are just mine.”

“Who are you and what have you done to my stammering, cute, insecure Severus?” You tease. Severus’ eyes are still pinned to your breasts. He visibly snaps out of his thoughts and looks up to you. There he is. Flashing through his impossibly dark eyes for the flicker of a second before they return to the heavy gaze, consumed by carnal desire that has been ignored for too long and has now broken free with demanding force.

“He knows he’s about to find out how you feel.”

“Come and find out then.” You shoot him a challenging grin. Severus kisses you in response. He kisses you and settles more of his weight on you. His very much hard cock presses against your exposed cunt. You gasp and clutch at Severus.

“Shit- Severus- that won’t fit!”

“It will.”

“You sure?” He chuckles, his eyes lighting up with amusement like they do so rarely and you relax.

“I’m sure.” You trust him. You love him. You want him. He’ll take care of you.

You let him take control. Severus kisses you more. He seems determined to cover every inch of your body with all the confessions of his love he has missed out on. All the elapsed opportunities. All the kisses you could have shared if you both had had just a little more courage. But it doesn’t matter. You are here now. You are together in his bed, skin pressed against skin, breathing the same air, staring into each other’s eyes longingly while his hand slips between your thighs.

You’re soaked and whimper when his slender fingers gather your slickness, brushing your aching cunt with featherlight touches. He draws gentle, slow circles over your clit. Pressure and heat build in your belly and deep inside your cunt fast. You cling to his shoulders, digging your nails into his skin without even noticing.

“I wondered so many times how you’d look…” He murmurs. His lips brush over yours as he speaks. His breath dances across your cheeks.

“...in the throes of pleasure.” Severus’ voice is deeper than you’ve ever heard it. A smoky rumble that goes straight to your core.

He teases your entrance until you’re squirming and rolling your hips against his touch before finally plunging a finger inside you. “I wondered how you’d sound…how I would feel knowing it was me making you feel like that…” You give him the answer promptly. Moaning and whining, gasping for air.

“Sev!” You throw your head back and arch your back. The pressure keeps building and building, beyond anything you ever managed yourself. He adds a second finger and with it a delicious, stinging stretch. He curls his fingers and presses the heel of his palm to your clit. You squirm under Severus’ intense gaze that seems to look right through you, through your skin down to your very soul. He watches every flicker of pleasure and desperation he paints onto your face with utter, devoted, undisturbed attention to you and nothing else. Nothing else matters.

Severus knows you like no other. It feels right to share this with him as well.

He loves you.

You still can’t believe it.

“Sev!”

“Cum for me, sunshine. Cum on my fingers. I want to know- I’m done wondering. I want to know.” You do. Crying out and panting his name, thrashing about beneath him as waves upon waves of intense pleasure run havoc over you, but it’s fine. You can let go with Severus.

“I need you Sev- please-” You gasp even before your orgasm has released you from its clutches. “Please please please- Sev-” He groans.

“Fuck and I thought you sounded needy in my head.” Severus mutters and aligns himself with you. He takes his time, giving you time to adjust to his girth, slowly pushing deeper and deeper into your still spasming channel, forcing it to give way to him. He grunts and whispers praise, how tight you are, how good you feel for him, how well you’re taking him. You whimper and hold onto him, leaving red streaks across his back. Severus doesn’t even bat an eye at it.

He buries his head in the crook of your neck and savours your every sound, every twitch and throb of your cunt finally, finally gloved around him.

“Sunshine-”

“Severus…” More words aren’t needed. He rests there, deep inside you, his body pressed to your trembling smaller one, shielding you from the cold of his room and the world itself and you know there is a promise in there somewhere.

“I can’t believe it-” He murmurs and kisses your collarbone, down to your sternum. He kisses and licks, sucks, grazes your skin with his teeth. “You feel…incredible…you’re so good for me sunshine-” He kisses your breasts, flicks his tongue over your hardened nipples, licks broad strokes and teasingly closes his lips around them.

When Severus finally moves again he does so in slow, measured thrusts. He watches your expression with hidden wariness, watches your every reaction. He can’t hide from you though. He is waiting for you to regret this. To tell him to stop. He’s afraid of letting go, afraid of scaring you off, of losing you.

But he’ll never lose you.

You buck your hips and whine impatiently. “Come on Sev.” You whimper. “Fuck me like you really want to fuck me.”

“It’s your first time I will not-”

“It’s done, Sev. Bye bye virginity! That train of stupid little things society places far too much worth in has left the station indefinitely. Now fuck me.”

“Sun-”

“Severus Snape! Fuck. me. properly.” He groans. His eyes roll to the back of his head.

“Fine.” Severus grunts and a rush of excitement pulses through your stomach and drenches his throbbing cock in more fluids. “I warned you.”

The bed creaks dangerously under his thrusts. His hips slap against yours with a wet, fleshy sound that drives you crazy.

“Oh fuck yes- yes- just like that- that’s-” You babble more nonsense, moaning and shredding Severus’ back with your nails. He fucks you mercilessly into the mattress, spearing you open with his cock with each hard thrust. Your entire body trembles under his thorough attention. Your cunt yields to him in wet, fluttering excitement. It cherishes the promise of soreness his thrusts leave behind.

Any attempt at grasping for and trying to hold onto one of the many thoughts rushing through your fuzzy, hazy mind is a fruitless endeavour.

“Fuck! Ahhh- so good…” Severus mutters against your collarbone and plunges his cock into your drenched cunt again before pulling out almost completely and driving back in with such force he knocks your head against the headboard. You both laugh.

“Sorry-”

“Don’t worry about it.”

“I love you.”

“I love you too.” You weave your fingers through his hair and pull him down into a sloppy, passionate kiss. You gasp and moan into the kiss and drink up the way Severus continues to lose the iron grip on his emotions he had cultivated since graduation, revealing more and more of the love-starved, unapologetic, fierce man you know him as. The man that feels so freely, so intensely, so deeply that it hurts him so much.

Every thrust, every kiss, every exploring hand gliding over your sweaty skin, squeezing your breasts in testing, careful motions is a testament to how deep his feelings for you run and have been running for so long.

It breaks free of him in violent bursts and buries you beneath roaring pleasure.

Severus is not good with words.

But he will be damned if he doesn’t show you what he can’t figure out how to say.

“Severus-” You moan, joining the creaking bed and his grunts, the symphony of your love. This would not be a pretty, romantic, fairytale like love. You are both messy and broken in your own ways. It will be hard. It will take work and compassion and will seem impossible at moments, especially in the midst of a war, but Severus is worth it.

To you he is worth it.

He always was and will always be.

You whine in protest when Severus pulls out of you but before you have a chance to voice it otherwise or even glare at him, Severus flips you over.

“Put your hands on the headboard.” He rasps in your ear. You are shaking and struggle to keep yourself upright, but Severus’ arms around your waist stabilise you. You hold onto the headboard so tight your knuckles turn white. Severus is kissing your neck, nibbling and sucking, painting his marks onto you as if to say ‘I was here’ or maybe ‘back off’. Maybe both. Maybe more.

He fills you up again, reaching much deeper than before and you gasp at the unfamiliar, intense feeling.

“Your cunt clutches me so hard-” He grunts and bottoms out. “Sucks me in- all soaked and desperate.”

“Sev-”

“Hmm…yes. I’m here…” He sucks the delicate skin on your neck into his mouth and bites down gently, at which a loud, wanton moan breaks free of you and he bites down harder.

You meet his thrust with your hips, his cockhead hits a spot inside you it previously missed and you fall apart. His grip around your waist turns bruising and Severus pulls you back. Your grip around the headboard goes slack. You melt into his touch, twitching and shivering, whimpering, mind fuzzy with always new, higher, stronger, more intense levels of pleasure.

Severus holds you to his chest, your thighs on either side of his, useless, hands helplessly holding onto his arms, and moves your body up and down his hard shaft. Using you and the fluttering of your cunt as your orgasm continues to coarse through you. He grunts and bites your shoulder, harder than before and a particularly strong spasm shakes your body. You drop your head onto his shoulder, melting further against him.

“Again-” You rasp and present your neck to him. A grin flashes over Severus’ lips. Sweaty strands of hair stick to his forehead, his eyes are glazed over with hazy lust.

“My pleasure.” He coos, but instead of indulging you, he kisses you. One small, chaste peck after another. You squirm against his grip, claw at his arms, painting more red streaks on his pale skin.

“You never told me you got a tattoo-” You murmur. The sight of the jet black snake and skull on Severus’ left inner arm pulls your mind out of its haze and into a brief moment of clarity. Severus hesitates ever so slightly in his thorough, teasing attention he’s paying to your neck. Something about the tattoo unsettles you, though you can’t exactly decide why.

“Must have forgotten. It’s new.”

“Hmm…very metal.”

“I don’t like it.”

“Why’d you get it then?”

“I thought I would.” Severus sucks on your neck and that plummets you back into mind-numbing, all-consuming, ecstatic pleasure.

“Maybe we should go to Dublin after.” Severus purrs in your ear. “Show Black all your pretty marks.”

“Idiot.” You giggle.

“I’m going to cum-”

“Cum inside me.”

“I don’t have to.”

“Please, Sev! Cum in me.” Severus pushes you forward and you fall face first into the mattress with a tiny outrages squeal. Severus laughs at you and grips your hips, adjusting them to sit flush with his own. He fucks you roughly into the pillows. You clutch at the sheets. Severus loses more and more of what little composure he still had. He mutters things you can’t make out.

His thrusts are accompanied with lewd, wet noises and the headboard hitting the wall.

“Severus!”

“I’ll fill you up ahh- with my cum- leave you dripping-”

“Yesyesyes-” He moves your hips with each thrust, pulling you back into him as he buries his cock inside you. His balls hit your sensitive cunt. His fingers dig into your skin, sure to be leaving bruises.

Severus cums with your name on his lips, tumbling over them in a low, reverent, lust-drenched prayer which you join with your own faint, desperate whimpers.

Feeling the hot spurts of cum hit your inner walls violently kicks you over the edge for the third time. Severus slumps above you, pressing his forehead to your back between your shoulder blades, panting and spent.

You stay like that for a while. Both of you trying to catch your breath, relishing in the buzzing glow of your aftershock and the feeling of each other’s love on your skin and warming you from the inside.

Gently Severus pulls his softening cock from you and lies down next to you, pulling you into a tight embrace.

“Sorry.” He murmurs in your hair and presses a tender kiss to the top of your head. “I hurt you.”

“I liked it.” You murmur back and place your hands against his chest, nuzzling your face to his neck. “Why did it take us so bloody long to finally do this?” He chuckles. He tugs a strand of messy hair behind your ear. You look up to meet his gaze. It’s heavy with emotions, a swirling storm of love and care and fear. You reach out to him in a futile attempt of soothing it. The pads of your fingers meet his cheek and he shudders under your touch, before leaning into it. His eyes fall closed and for a brief moment he looks at peace. Content. Home.

“I-” He opens his mouth as if to say something but closes it again. His brows pull together into a frown, a deep crease forming between them. His lips go white as he presses them together into a thin line. His jaw tenses. “I’ve made a terrible mistake-” His voice is hoarse from unshed tears and the effort of suppressing them. He loses. One escapes from between his closed lids and slides down his cheek, meeting your fingers. You wipe it away, but more follow.

“I’m trying to fix it- I am! But I-”

“It’s ok.” You whisper and press a tender kiss to his jaw.

So he did it…You had your suspicions, of course you did, but a part of you refused to believe Severus capable of those horrible acts committed by the Death Eaters. And you were right. The pain, regret and self-loathing is so evident in his face. He can’t bear to look at you.

“We’ll fix it. Together. It’ll be fine.”

You are there when the Aurors storm his house to arrest him. You were sitting on the threadbare sofa in his arms as he read to you.

You tell him not to resist, to not tell them anything.

You send an owl to Dumbledore.

You are at the trial, sitting on one of the benches. Severus looks miserable sitting in the middle of the courtroom, deep shadows under his eyes, a tremor in his wand hand. The chains of the chair are wrapped tightly around his arms. He avoids your eyes.

Dumbledore defends him passionately. Recounting Severus’ turning spy for him, reporting you-know-who’s steps to Dumbledore, how invaluable his intel had been. He recounts the dangers Severus was willing to face. He demands he is released. And he is. The Wizengamot clears him of all charges and you walk out of the Ministry with him, holding his still trembling hand in your own.

“Is this real?” He whispers and you bite the inside of your cheek to not start crying. You want to be strong for him.

“Yes.” You kiss his cheek and wrap your arms around his neck. “It’s real. You’re a free man. I’m here. I will always be here. We’ll figure this out.”

“Together?”

“Together. I love you, Severus.”

“I love you too, Sunshine.”

#severus snape #snape fandom #ao3 fanfic #severus snape smut #Severus Snape x reader #snape x reader #snape x you #request #dividers by cafekitsune

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