#Best LSAT courses

[johnypage95]

[saileshjain]

Frame Learning: Most Reputed LSAT Coaching Classes in Kolkata

LSAT is an online examination. Frame Learning offers compact courses for the aspirants of LSAT.

[justawritterwithideas]

law in pink | s.r

♡ next part ♡

summary: when the BAU needs an extra helping hand, Washington decides to send the best of the best, but what they didn't expect was to see... pink.

warnings: a bit of stereotypes, beyond that a bit of comedy and fluff. there may be mistakes in writing because I wrote it too fast :(

this story is spencer reid (season 7) x ssa elle woods!reader

words: 1,649 words.

a/n: elle woods from legally blonde comes to my mind constantly because is one of my favorite movies, so I wanted to make a mix called "ssa elle woods"; I hope you like it and you can understand the idea of reader as elle woods, I also hope I didn't portray it wrong and that it will be misunderstood T T

The BAU needed a hand with the rising crime wave, so, straight from Washington they sent the best of the best from their office.

And of course Penelope had to investigate.

According to her research, you had graduated from Harvard with honors and had given the honorary alumni speech at your class graduation. In addition, you were a part-time Harvard professor of Political Theory during the fall and part of a prolific group of researchers in your Washington office, which had the highest rate of successfully resolved cases in the last 5 years.

In addition, you had achieved on your LSAT a score of 179 out of 180 points.

Something inside Penelope reminded her a little of her friend, Spencer Reid, in you.

But what she didn't expect to see when she looked you up on the interwebs was the fashionista and family friendly life you had. The way your apartment was decorated with a pretty pink aesthetic, your outfits videos that reached millions of views and your day to day routines were the mantra of many girls, being all perfectly edited.

With that and more, anyone would think that your job was not to be a federal agent, but an influencer.

Penelope was already smelling perfume from her computer, and that made her more than eager to meet you.

It was seeing one just like her in front of her screen.

You were the perfect candidate to be her new best friend.

The clacking of your heels and the smell of your Chanel perfume filled the entire BAU office, causing the complicit glances of all the workers who were there.

"Have you seen Barbie yet?" "Is the model missing?" "What about her? Maybe she's a lost intern. First-timer problems."

Everyone was making comments you'd heard more than once in some police office, maybe it was the way you dressed didn't go along with the aesthetic they had or how feminine your attire might be, but that's who you were and for a couple of comments about your appearance and the stereotype they had they weren't going to sour your day.

"Excuse me, are you looking for someone?"

You turned to see a tall, dark man, who was watching your outfit from last season's Prada fit you to perfection.

"Oh! Finally someone nice." You commented with a smile. "Yes, I'm looking for Agent Aaron Hotchner."

"He's my boss, would you like help finding his office? I can help you."

"That would be great, thank you very much..."

"Agent Morgan, Derek Morgan."

"It's a pleasure, Agent Derek. I'm Y/N, nice to meet you."

You didn't like to introduce yourself officially as an agent, it made you look rather intimidating if you did, and that was what you didn't want.

It wasn't a long walk to the wooden door which was adorned by a plaque with the name of the person you were looking for.

"This is it, you come for a case? Any family members involved?"

"No, I'm coming to help. Thank you very much, by the way."

You gave him one last smile before knocking on the door, hearing a "pass" from inside.

"Who was the girl you were escorting, Derek?" Emily watched the man reach them, peering curiously inside Hotch's office.

"Her name is Y/N, she said she was coming to help, but... I don't know, she doesn't look like someone coming to help, maybe she's a witness."

Spencer's eyes scanned the situation, trying to conclude who the mystery woman inside his boss's office was about, but coming up with nothing on the spot. Like his friends, they were all searching for an answer to the abiding doubt in his head.

Who exactly was that girl and why had she said that? She didn't seem like a person whose job was an office job, but not one that was very risky either.

But before they could say anything, Aaron came out of the office with his ever-serious face.

"Meeting in 5" was the only thing he announced, so the group took heed and went to the place.

Once inside the office, Penelope found herself with her dear friends, who were trying to figure out the causes of the recent meeting.

"You don't know Pen either, do you?" J.J. was the first to speak.

"No idea, Hotch just asked me to be here."

"Just like everyone else." Rossi replied, settling around the round table with his coffee cup.

The conversation didn't last long when Hotch entered the boardroom.

"Good. I know there's no case yet or apparent reason to get them together first thing." Hotch began. "But as you may know, the last couple of months have seen an increase in crime for the BAU, which is exactly why we've been given extra funding to bring an extra agent onto the team."

Sounds of excitement came from everyone's mouths.

"So I've been contacting old colleagues, who recommended the best of the best. So they've transferred an agent from Washington to help us."

"Boy, they must be desperate." Derek's comment drew a few chuckles.

"I'd like to introduce you to the SSA, Y/N Woods."

Everyone's countenance changed to one of surprise when they saw you walk in, smiling in the friendliest way possible.

The same girl who looked like a model fresh off a runway was the newest member of the BAU.

"It's nice to meet you all, I hope we can work well together." You set your Prada bag to the side, being able to scan each of the members quickly.

"Woods, this is SSA Emily Prentiss, Derek Morgan, Jennifer Jareau, David Rossi, dr. Spencer Reid and our technical analyst, Penelope Garcia."

"Hey, I know you." You commented in the direction of Garcia, who was smiling politely. "You were the girl who commented on my recipe for the vegetarian tacos."

"Yes! They looked exquisite."

"Thank you very much, I hope they were helpful. We need to be a little more conscientious with our four-legged friends."

Spencer didn't know if he was dazzled by the whiteness of your teeth or the warm way you had entered into trust with Penelope with a simple recipe.

"Woods, Garcia. You'll have time to talk."

"I'm sorry, sir." They both replied at the same time.

"Fine, I'll go prepare the case, Garcia come with me."

They both walked out of the meeting room, leaving you alone with the rest of your new group of colleagues.

"I didn't know you were an agent." Derek was the first to break the silence surrounding them, causing you to turn in his direction.

"I didn't mean to mention it, I'm not a person who usually blurts it out just like that on the first interaction. You never know what kind of person a stranger is." You commented before you could look at him again. "No offense."

"No problem."

"From Washington, right?" Your gaze went to the blonde, who was watching from her position with a warm smile.

"That's right, even though I'm from California but I moved to Massachusetts after getting into Harvard, and then to Washington when I got an opening in the federal office there. So I'm from here, there and over there, but I'll always be a California gurl." A chuckle came out of your mouth after making a reference to the Katy Perry song, bringing your hands to your sides.

"Harvard? What did you study?" Spencer looked more and more interested.

"Law." You commented offhandedly. "I actually studied Fashion Merchandising at UCLA with a 4.0 GPA. But I wanted to prove myself and decided to get into Harvard Law."

"Switching from Fashion Merchandising at UCLA to Harvard Law is a big jump, how much did you get on your entrance exam?" Rossi asked.

"179."

Everyone's surprised face made an impression on you.

"What, like it's hard?" your eyelashes fluttered softly, before you remembered what you were holding as a "peace offering". "By the way, I made cookies yesterday for being the first day and making a good impression." Your hands went to your bag, pulling out a heart-shaped tupperware. "They're lavender and butter, it's a recipe I read on a fairly well known blog forum, they say Paris Hilton gets her recipes from there."

You held out the tupper to each of them to take out a cookie, leaving it on the table in case they liked to take out more.

"If they like more, just pull out. There's enough for everyone." A little smile tugged at your mouth. But before you heard any response from either person, the catchy ringtone of Gwen Stefani's "Rich Girl" interrupted any culinary criticism. "Excuse me..." Your hand went for your phone, which didn't surprise others by being pink, and you left the room letting out a "Woods" as you answered.

"This is new." Derek said.

"And delicious." Emily took another bite of her cookie.

"She's different than what we usually know." Rossi looked at the rest, taking a second cookie out of the tupper. "But I don't mind at all, in fact, I think new always comes in good."

"True, it's always good to have someone new and with a different vibe."

The group turned to look at Reid, who was holding the cookie with his right hand. The young man wasn't usually one to blurt out a comment, just like that, least of all referring to a girl.

"Oh kid, you find her attractive." Derek was the first to smile in amusement.

"What, no." The voice in a higher pitched tone than normal was what gave Spencer away.

"Spencer likes Y/N." J.J annoyed, walking out of the office laughing along with Emily.

"That's not true!"

"See ya, lover boy." Derek commented along with Rossi, who was gently patting his shoulder with a knowing smile.

And so it was that Spencer was left in the meeting room with his cheeks as pink as his new co-worker's heels.

♡ next part ♡

If you like it, don't forget to like and repost it.

a lot of love, alme. ❀

[zweiginator]

imagine being academic rivals with patrick, you both have some type of work to do but you both need some answers, and you both have some pent up frustration and tension, so you make it a sort of game so whoever makes the other cum gets the answers....

oh ive thought about lawstudent!patrick many times... his father is heavily influential in your city. he's a bigshot attorney in big law and he expects nothing less from his son. his father and his grandfather are partners at their own firm, but his grandfather is getting old, and patrick is next in line.

and while patrick has daddy issues and shares the same emotional unavailability that he fosters towards his son--all he wants is to please him. he scored almost perfectly on the LSAT; he got a 4.0 GPA at a top university. and he goes into his first day of law school with the belief that he is the best. that he will continue to be the best. having the last name zweig in this field makes him a god amongst men. and it's that cockiness and academic fervor that will make him partner directly after the bar exam.

but that's three years from now, and all he needs to worry about on his very first day is making a good impression. so he puts on his grey suit and a blue tie to match Yale's colors and he paints a big smile on his face. a zweig smile.

you have your first class with him. patrick was busy chatting up the dean of students--and frankly being an ass kisser--so he was a tad short on time. there is only one seat left and patrick takes it, straightening his suit jacket. you peer down at the nametag adjacent to his collar and have to hold back an eye roll. of course, patrick zweig goes to fucking yale.

from what you've heard about him, he's had his whole fucking life plotted out from the beginning. born to an uber-rich politically connected family in suburban connecticut, he lived in a huge mansion with maids and full-time nannies. he excelled in tennis due to his father paying for exorbitantly expensive lessons and he went to the best ivy feeder school on the east coast. there, he had dozens of tutors who taught him strategies for the SAT, the ACT, the AP exams. he got perfect scores on everything and was spat out at Stanford, where he conveniently played tennis all four years, aced the LSAT and was given four pristine letters of recommendation which landed him here--at yale.

but your story is different and you didn't have au pairs or private school connections. you had a work ethic and tons of scholarships. years of grueling dedication which made your acceptance letter to yale that much more meaningful. you doubt patrick was at all surprised to make it here.

patrick notices how your demeanor changes as you glance over his nametag. and he wouldn't care usually, but something about the tick of your jaw pisses him off.

and you don't like his know-it-all attitude. how he sucks up to the professor. he uses too much cologne and he has a staring problem too.

the second week of classes, one of your professors assigns you to study groups. she tells you that these are mandatory--you must meet with your study partner at least once a week to catch up on readings, ask and answer questions, and get to know each other.

and somehow, in a lecture of thirty seven students, it happens to be that patrick is your partner. you hesitantly enter your number into his phone.

your first few study sessions are tinged in a palpable tension and a bitter distaste for each other. you don't exchange many words outside of talk about the assigned cases and outlines.

you don't like where your mind leads you, but as you sit on his couch, you realize patrick is quite attractive. his hair is messier and he wears a well-loved stanford tennis t-shirt and linen pajama pants. his glasses are perched on his nose and a yellow highlighter sits between his lips as he flips through his text book.

and patrick would be a liar if he didn't admit you're attractive too. he likes your hair up how you have it, your eyes sleepy and your voice more relaxed. you're wearing shorts and a yale hoodie and you smell good--like coconut and vanilla.

but you both chug along, until it's well past midnight and both of you are burnt out, your hands marked up with pen ink.

"i don't think i'm retaining any of this." patrick admits.

"maybe if you had some work ethic you would." it's a lot meaner than you intended.

"what the fuck is your problem?" patrick caps his highlighter. "i thought i was breaking through to you--but i guess you're still just as fucking uptight as ever."

"some of us have to be uptight." you spit. "our daddies don't pave all of our futures like yours does."

patrick leans forward, grabbing the drawstring of your hoodie. "given how connected my family is to the legal field here, i wouldn't get on my bad side."

"is that a threat?" you grab his wrist.

"maybe so."

you slap him. it's loud and harder than you thought you were capable of. you expect patrick to lash out, to kick you out and email faculty--to ruin your life. but he pulls you onto his lap and pushes his mouth against yours. his legs spread wide and you straddle them. he still hasn't kissed you and you're both intently waiting on the other to do so. patrick cups your face impatiently and moves his face closer. you feel his erection on your core.

"we need to study." you say.

patrick sighs and looks down at your lips. "do we?"

you nod. "we do."

"but i really want to hate fuck you right now."

you cup his jaw; his cheek is hot from where you slapped him. "you hate me? it doesn't seem like it right now."

patrick's mouth ghosts over your ear. "hate's a strong word. but yeah--" he pulls your hair to expose your throat to him, pressing a firm kiss there. "i hate you." he holds your ass and grinds you on his cock. "i hate how you think you know me." you hold back a whimper. "i hate how you think you're smarter than me." patrick grabs your hand, placing it on his dick. "and i hate how much you fucking turn me on."

"i'll fuck you--" you say, pressing a kiss to his lips. "if you can tell me what-" you grab your study guide. "what three causes of action are in tort law. " you read the first testable concept you can find. "but if you don't get all of it right--then i leave."

patrick thinks. he knows this--maybe. but even then, it's hard to think when you're moving back and forth, your warm cunt stroking against his cock. his eyes are glued to your lips and he clears his throat.

"fuck--jesus--" he runs a hand through his hair. "one is ne-negligence."

you nod and untie his pajama pants. "two more." you whisper in his ear. you've never seen him so pathetic and submissive.

he knows these. but now your fucking hand is in his pants, palming him.

his head falls back and he mewls.

you pull him back up. "two. more."

"fuck--uh--intentional. intentional torts--"

"what's an example of one?"

"that wasn't the fucking deal--jesus christ." he watches you spit in your hand.

"tell me an example."

"battery."

you yank his boxers down and stroke him in your hand. a carnal groan escapes him and you clamp your hand over his mouth.

he pulls your wrist away. "one more?"

"one more."

"strict liability."

patrick's demeanor changes as you tell him he's right. he pins your arms behind your back and pushes your face into the couch cushions, pulling your panties down your legs.

you feel his cock line up with your entrance and you're so fucking wet for him, so desperate. but he stalls as his head pushes inside, just the tip.

"patrick--fuck--" you look back at him; he feels your pulse quickening in your wrists.

then he bends down to whisper in your ear.

"i'll fuck you if you tell me the legal difference between motive and intent."

you can feel the fucking smirk against your cheek.

"i fucking hate you."

[madamechrissy]

Take Me Home Tonight

♡ ♡ Pairings ♡ ♡ Satoru Gojo x Fem Reader

♡ ♡ Warnings ♡ ♡ MDNI- Gojo is 28-29 here, reader is like 22 or 23. Nothing too crazy. But is Professor/teacher forbidden type love. (Fingering, cunnilingus, explicit sex, overstimulation, teensy bit of dollification, dirty talk, hint of breeding kink, oral fixation, choking and smacking in this chap. Oh and Satoru totes has a praise kink)

♡ ♡ Word Count ♡ ♡ 12.5k

♡ ♡ Summary ♡ ♡ After passing your LSATs, your friends take you out to unwind. You never go out, so you are awkwardly agree, and you end up in the arms of a super hot man named Satoru. You end up screaming Satoru's name as he drops down on his knees before you, only to lose him in the club. All you have is his first name. Two months later, in your Criminal Law class, your heart stops. Your teacher? Professor Gojo. Or as you soon call him, Professor Dickhead. You can't fuck up your law school, and he won't fuck up his career, not just because he makes you wet in class, no, he's a dick. Right?

That pout and blue eyes don't wreck you, right? - Lawyer AU (If you wanna be tagged in updates let me know 💓)

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

You sit up in the car, blinking sleepily, your face sticky from drooling on Gojo’s arm, and he looks at you with a smirk as he wipes your mouth.

“Really need to make you drool outside of sleep.” You flush bright red, leaning back as you all sit in front of the fancy hotel.

“I’m so sorry, I have no clue why I’m so sleepy when you drive. It’s like… weird isn’t it?”

“Nah, it’s cute.” He pops a kiss on your forehead, then he steps out, grabbing your little bag along with his things, and the valet takes the keys, Gojo tips him generously you notice.

Gojo opens the door to the hotel lobby, his hand slipping into yours, and the warmth of his palm sends waves of heat through your body, making you feel so good. When have you all been able to just hold hands, anywhere really. Just that alone has you pausing, staring down at where they’re joined and smiling.

You can’t believe this is happening.

The hotel lobby is breathtaking, you’ve never been somewhere like it, with high ceilings and a giant chandelier that sparkles above you. You feel so out of place in your school clothes, but Gojo’s grip on your hand keeps you grounded. He leads you to the check-in desk, and the clerk’s eyes widen when she sees him. You watch as she stammers through the check-in process, a blushing mess.

Satoru handles it with ease and a stupid amount of charm, winking over at you as he gets some free upgrade, as if he needed it. “You’re a doll, thank you love.”

“Of course Mr. Gojo! We always love having you here.” She completely ignores you, but you understand, Gojo is… something else.

The bellboy takes your bags up to the room, something you’d seen in movies at best, and then Gojo is leading you to the elevator. The moment the doors close, he’s on you, pushing you against the wall, his lips crushing yours in a kiss that steals your breath away. You wrap your arms around his neck, gasping as his hands grip you under your skirt, as his tongue dives between your lips.

“Toru…” You whisper, hungry, and he pulls back, looking down with parted lips, his bright blue eyes heady with desire.

“I can’t wait to get you to myself.” You tremble, at how he looks at you, at how you can feel him hard on your tummy, then the elevator dings, and he practically drags you down the hall to the suite.

The living room alone in the suite could fit your entire dorm, it has a little kitchen with all fancy appliances, and floor to ceiling sliding doors that lead to a balcony that overlooks the city. The walls are painted a deep, rich blue, and the floor is covered in plush white carpet that looks so damn soft you could just lay on the floor and it’d be better than your bed.

The lights are dimmed and soft, and you walk around, looking into the room, and there is…

One bed.

You flush as you look at it, as Satoru casually tips the bellboy and sets your things up. The bed is a king size and the white blankets are soft under your fingertips, you run your hand up and then see it, a bouquet of roses on the bedside table. They’re all different colors, in a pretty vase.

“These are beautiful! Do they just leave flowers?” You notice a note then, as Satoru is coming up behind you. The note that simply reads, For Miss Brat.

“Toru, how’d you do this!?” He smirks, kissing your cheek and wrapping his arms around you.

“I just paid them to do it, silly.”

“You going all out huh?” You look up at him, and he takes your chin in his hand, leaning down, pressing your ass against his thighs.

“This isn’t me going all out, Miss brat. But of course I wouldn’t invite you without making it nice for you. Need to eat that pussy in a pretty bed for once.” You’re bright red, to the tips of your ears, and he laughs softly at it.

“The things you say… it’s like you just wanna fuck me up mentally.”

“Just wanna fuck up your guts.”

“Toru!” You both laugh, and then you slip out of his hold, teasingly starting to unbutton your vest, leaving it on the dresser and bouncing out to the living room. He practically growls, following you.

“You teasing me?” You just smile, innocent, as you peer around the rest of the room, pulling your tie off and setting it on your bags. There’s a bottle of champagne chilling in an ice bucket right on the counter, and you peek in the bathroom and see a huge jacuzzi tub and shower.

“Ooh, this looks nice.” You take off your shirt then, flinging it at him, and he laughs as he catches it, as you perch on the edge of the jacuzzi, just in your lacy green bra and skirt. He pauses then, whistling, as his eyes go up and down your body.

“Fuck you’re so pretty.” You flush under the praise, all your teasing gone then, as he begins to unbutton his shirt. Your mouth goes dry.

Holy… you’ve sucked his cock and never seen him shirtless, have you? You felt those muscles, you could see their outlines, but… you can’t help but stare at the perfect body he reveals, inch by inch. You see his lean, chiseled torso, his perfect broad chest, muscles rippling underneath as he pulls it off completely. He has a smug grin as you eat him up visually.

“Cat got your tongue, Miss Brat?” His voice is cocky, but ya know what? He should be. Every inch of him is so perfectly cut, like sculpted in marble, with his pale glistening skin.

“Fuck.” Is all you manage, walking to him on unsteady legs, placing a hand tentatively on his hard body, exhaling as you run your fingers down the ripples of his abdomen.

“Thought you’d be more eloquent, little genius.” You look up at him, but you can’t function anymore. Satoru was already beautiful, but now that you see him you…

“You’re gorgeous, Satoru Gojo.” You expect him to be cocky about it, to look smug perhaps, but his lips part, and his eyes glitter as they drink you in, as you place a kiss on his chest, right where his heart is rapidly beating. He gently grabs your wrist, fingering the bracelet gently.

“You wear it every day, huh?” You nod, shyly looking down, at the perfect skin in front of your face.

“Of course I do. It’s usually not visible with my blazers is all. I sleep in it… that’s… ignore it.” He smirks, running his hands down the sides of your breasts then, until they get to your bare waist, big hands taking over the narrow expanse, making you feel so tiny in his grip. Your skin thrums everywhere, and you inhale a bit.

“You said you didn’t have… family?” You nod, looking away. “Are they… like passed away?”

“No, they’re alive. I guess. They gave me up.” He pauses, blinking at that, and your throat closes, emotions you long suppress rising up.

“Gave you up?” His voice is dark, hoarse, his lips in a terse line.

“Yeah, they put me in a home when I was like thirteen. Um… I don’t know what happened, I don’t want to. They weren’t good people.”

“How the fuck can they do that?”

“It’s legal to basically relinquish your rights. Foster homes were so disgusting and horrible mostly, it’s why I decided I’d be a lawyer. Fight for rights for those who really can’t.”

He tilts your chin up, and you struggle to keep your composure, as his pretty eyes study your face. “If I saw them I’d beat their asses. Mom too I don’t care. She can catch these hands.” You giggle a bit, through tears, and he smiles softly. “I’m teasing because I don’t know if I’m any good at comforting.”

“That is comforting though.” He kisses your forehead gently.

“So how the fuck are you in law school? And top law school? The college you came from was prestigious too.”

“I’m really smart, so scholarships. I also had amazing teachers in High school that really cared. That’s where I met Yuta and Maki too. They’re like my family.” He brushes your hair back softly, just listening to you, just holding you.

Fuck it’s nice.

“I can see how much you three love each other. Reminds me of Sugu, Kento and my friendship.”

“You three made some deal with a devil to get so attractive.” He snorts at that, rolling his eyes.

“You don’t seem angry, how?”

“At my old parents?” He nods. You shrug. “I’m better off without them, clearly, look at me now. If I lived there, I’d have gotten into who knows what. I’m thankful they chose to get rid of me, the best thing they could have done as parents.”

“Holy fuck…” He leans down, cupping your face gently then. “Think I just fell deeper now.”

You pause, breathing rapidly, as he even seems a little surprised at his words, leaning back, but you grab his strong hands, clinging to them. “You’re falling for me, Satoru?”

“Isn’t it obvious, brat?” You get flustered then, shaking your head. “How much clearer does it need to be?”

“I kind of thought… more physical maybe? I wasn’t sure. I didn’t wanna push too much and not have… whatever this is. It’s really special to me, as insane as it drives me.”

“It’s special to me, too.”

You sigh then, taking his hands and holding them, running your fingers on the backs of his knuckles, no sounds but your breathing and the whirl of the air conditioner in the suite. “Satoru… I have been falling since we met.”

“You have?” You just nod, looking down shyly again.

“I remember crying to Maki about it. Shit for months I just played with myself to the damn memory.” His nostrils flare as he tilts your chin up, hunger clear in his pretty gaze now. “Yeah, I said that. Wow.”

“Yeah, so did I. Till my cock hurt, I woke up dreaming about this girl, who looked like a whole nerd lost in that club.” You giggle, shoving at him.

“You just like nerds, don’t you?”

“Love them. Especially when they look like this.” He unzips the side of your skirt then, letting it fall down your ankles, and then he finally sees your outfit, the little garter belt, the stockings, the panties. His eyes glaze over. “Oh fuck . You trying to kill me, Miss Brat?”

“You like, huh Professor Gojo?” You whisper the words, and his hands slide down your hips now, turning you, until he caught sight of your ass from the back.

“Oh my fucking…” He growls nearly, gripping your ass, smacking it then, making you inhale a bit, at the stinging pleasure, then he’s got one hand in your hair, gripping it, running his fingers down your spine. “You’ve got no clue how bad I’ve wanted to see you like this. Always in those blazers and pencil skirts.”

“You like my pencil skirts, don’t you Professor?” He laughs, breathy in your ear, as his hands slide up your nearly bare body, up to your lacy cups of your bra, yanking them down then, cupping your breasts.

“I like anything you wear. But this…” You feel his cock now, hot and hard, and you reach back for it, as he pulls your hair harder, sliding his tongue up the side of your neck. “You’re so beautiful.”

That melts you.

“Toru…” He picks you up then, bridal style, making you giggle, before he catches your mouth in his kiss, devouring your mouth as he carries you to the bed, laying you out and then standing, eyes drinking in every inch.

“Perfect fucking body. Fuck.” You’re blushing down to your breasts.

“You don’t have to…”

“Think I’m lying, brat?” You shake your head.

“Satoru, you're perfect.”

“Yeah, and so are you. I’ll have to show you, huh?” He slides off your bra with ease, then he’s gripping your breasts again, moaning, taking one of the peaks into his hot mouth, swirling around your nipple. Your hands go into his silky white hair, back arching as desire hits.

“Ah! Feels s’good, Toru.” You whisper, he looks up at you, pupils dilated, kissing over to the other breast now.

“These tits, these nipples… drive me fucking crazy.” You whine out, as his hand slides down your soft tummy, making it tremble. “Those hips, that waist? That nice ass of yours. Your pretty, perfect face, which is my favorite part. But my second favorite part? This pretty little pussy.” You gasp when he slides two fingers down it, already soaked.

“Mmm! Toru!” He watches you, sliding his finger up to your little clit, rubbing in those little circles, the ones that make you lose it. “F-fuck… mmm, please.”

“Let me take my time, baby. Yeah?” You nod, eagerly, and he smiles, so fucking gorgeous, kissing down the valley between your breasts. Your legs tremble, as he continues sliding down, finger dipping to tease your entrance, stretching your skin just slightly, making you moan. “Sounds so sexy. Feel so wet.”

You’re just whimpering, and when he’s kissing your hips, nipping them, sliding down the bed between your legs, your thighs tremble. He holds them, spreading them wide, and groans when he gets an eye full of you, your bottom half still in lingerie. He parts the swollen lips of your sex, spitting on you then, grinning as he watches it trail down your creamy center.

“You l-like doing that. Huh?” You ask softly, he just moans again, repeating the action, hot and sticky on your cunt. You nearly buck off the bed just from that.

“It just looks so hot. God your pussy’s so pretty… Ugh, I hate to take these off, but I need to see you completely naked.” He gently unclasps the garters, sliding your stockings off slowly, the soft material inching off, soft on your skin. “These legs? These calves even?” He peppers kisses down your legs.

“You make me feel so beautiful, Toru.” He pauses, kissing right at your ankle, looking down at you, desire mirrored in his gaze.

“Gonna make you feel so fucking good.” He slides your other stocking off, then he hesitates at the garter belt and panties. “Hmm… I almost wanna keep these on… but no. Gotta go.”

You giggle, a little nervous when that last barrier is gone, trembling under his hungry gaze, his hands going back to your thighs, spreading them wide. You get so nervous as his big hands run down your entire body, burning everywhere they touch, branding you with him.

“I didn’t… get naked fully. My random two times.” You admit, and he blinks a bit, looking up at your face now.

“I’m the first to see you like this?” You nod, biting your lip then.

“Yeah I was too insecure I think. You make me feel so good.”

“Baby, I’m gonna fuck you so good, you’ll forget everything.” Your heart races, as your cunt gets soaked, when he flicks his tongue on your clit, your hips buck up and you cry out. “Fuck you till you can’t think,” he murmurs, sliding a tongue all the way up your slit, those eyes watching you. “Until all you can do is scream my name.”

“T-Toru…” Your hips slide up again, for more of his mouth, more of his tongue, teasingly flicking you between your glistening folds, parting and then shoving his tongue deep in you, wetness pours out when he flicks it back out. “Mnh, s’good…”

“Soak my face baby girl. Fucking soak me.” You whine out, and obey, as he slides a finger deep in your cunt then, and you pulse around him, making him moan on your clit, vibrating it. Now you’re gushing all around his finger, onto his face, down your ass onto this fancy fucking blanket, whining and gripping his hair tight. “You taste so good, I can’t get enough of you.”

“Ple-ease…” You don’t even know what you’re asking, as your stomach sucks in, and your hips rock on his perfect face, as he’s using his finger to push inside your little gummy walls, hitting that spot he knows so well. “Cumming… cumming!”

“Good girl. All over me. Let me drink you.” You can’t stand it, his voice, his touch, that soft hot tongue rolling in circles, and you’re screaming out, orgasm wracking through you so hard your vision gets fuzzy.

He’s still licking you.

Now he’s got two fingers in you, his free hand exposing your clit as he angles his head, flicking fast on your clit as he fucks you with his fingers. It’s so intense then, you can barely stand it, thighs threatening to close, but he keeps them wide with his arms, sipping every bit of cum that pours out again, making you shaky and weak.

He keeps licking you, relentlessly, and you start to get overstimulated then, walls tightening around his fingers, and you want him, god you want him, that pretty huge cock in you. You’ve never wanted anything more, desperately yanking on his shoulders, nails digging in, whining in the back of your throat.

“T’much… it’s… please!” You can’t speak, you can hardly think, and he pauses, taking a breath, his eyes drunk on you, sliding his fingers out and planting a messy kiss on your sloppy little cunt.

“Only two orgasms, that’s nothing.” You blink, and he laughs, sliding up you then and shoving his fingers in your mouth. “Taste how yummy you are. Mmm, good girl, suck these clean.”

You feel high off him, as his hard body presses down on you, as he watches you, licking his lips, covered in your slick. You roll your tongue around his thick, long fingers, sucking them with a pop, and you feel his length, hard and insistent on your inner thigh. You reach down, sliding up his length, watching him flutter those pretty white lashes, hot in your hand.

“Gonna make you cum so many times you wanna pass out.” You make mewling sounds from the back of your throat, as you smear his precum on his tip. “Jesus… fucking… I need you baby. Need you.”

“Then take me, Toru.” At that he groans, lifting your leg up and pulling your hips down quickly, hot thick tip at your entrance, slamming his mouth on yours, just teasing you then, pushing in just the tip, making you whine and rock against him for more.

“You’re so fuckin greedy, aren’t you? Are you so slutty for me?” You feel your cunt throb around nothing, at his words, words that should maybe offend you, but just urge you on.

You whine out, pushing up again, but he holds your pelvis down, smushing it into the mattress, grinning down at you. “Toru, fuck!”

“Beg for it then.” You roll your eyes, overheated, and he’s just smirking like a fucking asshole.

“You’re such a dick, ugh! You know you want to. Feel how good it is…” You tighten right around that teasing tip, feeling it leaking into you, and he groans at that, grip brutal.

“Fine, I’ll get you to beg.” He pulls away and you’re crying out, when he’s just fingering you again, scissoring those two fingers in your tight entrance, soaking his hand. “So wet, aren’t you? Just for me?”

“Yes, just for you! Don’t want fingers… want your cock.” He just laughs, pushing your arms up with one hand, grabbing your wrists and shoving them over your head, leaving you helpless.

“Beg for it brat. Say you want me to fuck your insides up.”

“Oh God- ngh- fucking jerk!”

“Fine.” He pulls his fingers as you’re about to cum again, and you’re losing it, chest tightening as your tummy can’t stop clenching, your cunt just aching for him now, to the point it hurts.

“Please, okay, please!”

“Say ‘please fuck my insides up’. Oh, add Professor.” You glare at him, yanking him down with your thighs since he has your arms useless, and he exhales in pleasure as his cock rubs against your slick heat.

“You’re so stupid. Immature. Idiot.” He grins at that.

“You’re not getting fucked then. Poor baby.”

“Satoru…”

“Ah-ah.” He bites your lower lip, so beautiful above you, with those glossy lips parted, his eyes blown out, soft white hair falling over his brow. You feel yourself falling into some madness, one that only he can fix. “Say it.”

“I said please fucking jerk. Mmm…” He’s rubbing his cock up and down your aching hole, then up to your clit, and it twitches, making you almost cum again.

“Please fuck my insides up. Professor. Handsome Professor. I’ll keep adding words if you don’t.” You whine more, body throbbing with need.

“Stupid. That’s s-stupid… mnh…” Your head falls back, and he sucks on your neck, biting you then with those sharp teeth.

“You’re drenched. Soaking these nice blankets with all that cum.” He looks into your eyes then, pouting. “Aw, poor little girl. Can’t take it? You want it in you so bad too, look at you. Cock drunk eyes.” He shoves that tip in again, and you begin shattering, just from that.

“Ah! Shit shit shit.” You’re cumming all over, pathetically from that, gushing all over him, and that’s when his brows lower, and he grips your so tight, and you hear him cry out too.

“Fuck you… feel so… oh my god… just say it, I need to fuck this pussy. Feel it cum around me.” You struggle to focus, blinded then, blinking him into focus. “Cumming just from my tip too. You have such a slutty, needy little cunt.

“Yeah, and you can’t take it, you wanna fuck me so bad. Do it.” You tighten again and he nearly falls on you, cheeks flushed, cock twitching in you. You both are stubborn and torturing each other, but you know…

“Say it or I’ll pull out. I’ll lick that pussy again.” You shake your head, so ready and aching you have tears. “You cryin’?”

“N-no! Dick ugh. N-n-no!” He pulls back, making you start to cry now, and you wiggle your body, trying to get your wrists free.

“Say it, brat. Then you’ll get what you want. Don’t you want me to fill this tight little hole the fuck up?”

“Ugh- sadistic- narcissistic-”

“You want it. You love it.” You sigh, as he presses against your hole again, and you’re slippery, hot, wanting that fat tip to just push in.

“I’ll only say this once. Got it.” He laughs a bit, nodding, as you’re a writhing mess under him. “Please fuck my insides up. I want it. Please.”

“Please…”

“Professor, oh my god! Please Professor!” You’re anticipating more of his antics, of him running his pretty mouth, but he releases your wrists, grabbing your thighs and putting them high, and he shoves in you. “Ah!”

You cry out at the pressure, as he’s so deep in you in one thrust, and he exhales, pausing on top of you.

You both look at each other then, as you adjust to the ridiculous pressure, as he feels your tight walls pulsing around him. You look into each other’s eyes, breaths coming in little pants, as he grabs your waist, leaning down, and the way he looked at you then? Like you were everything?

The way he presses in deeper, holding onto you, as your fingers grip his strong back?

The way he just quietly studies you with stark desire in his eyes?

Fuck.

“I don’t have words. It’s…” Satoru Gojo? No words…

“Perfect.” You whisper, and he nods, gulping, prominent adam’s apple bobbing in his throat, as he pulls back, then pushes in deeper, impossibly deeper, making your eyes involuntarily roll back, and his head fall against yours neck, hissing as he pulls out and shoves in all the way, hitting your cervix.

“Fucking perfect.” He murmurs, and then you blink through fresh tears, looking up at him, and he raises a hand to caress your face, so gently. “You’re perfect.”

“Toru…” He kisses your tears off your cheeks, lifting up and rolling his hips, hitting against that spot, and then kissing your cervix, god he’s so long, so thick, just taking over everything you are.

“So tight, so hot. Fuck, baby. Never felt anything like it.” You tremble, emotional at his words, as your body is throbbing everywhere, pleasure like you’ve never felt before, god no one had been this deep, stretched you like this.

“Me either- mnh - nothing… s’good… Toru!” You bury your head against his chest as he begins thrusting, rhythmically, still slow but so intense. “M-more, mmm!”

You arch up, and he’s sliding in deeper, you can feel his cock stretching you out, so thick, so full, and he’s groaning in your mouth, you taste his minty breath mixed with your essence. You just want more, you need more, your nails scratching his back, your cunt just spasming around him, soaking wet, making him tense.

“You ready for me to fuck you good baby?” You gasp, and his eyes take a mad look, brilliant blue, so blue it’s hard to stand looking at him like this.

You just nod eagerly, whimpering, and then he’s fucking into you, thrusting harder, faster, and you’re dripping down his length, squelching sound of your sloppy little pussy swallowing him. He grips you tight, kissing you intensely, messy as fuck, as messy as your cunt and his cock fucking each other. You drink up his moans, and he drinks up your cries.

He’s got one of your legs up over his shoulder now, shoving in so deep you scream at the sensation, as he hits your cervix, and you’re pulsing all around him, making him slam his eyes shut, gripping bruisingly. You feel it building, orgasm washing over you, your eyes slam shut.

“Oh fuck…  fuck… cumming, ngh!” You whisper, and he pushes in and presses up, it’s so intense you can’t breathe.

“Look at me when you cum.” You open your eyes, and he’s rolling those hips again, making your vision fuzzy, your body shattering, and you fall apart, wetness seeping out and around his length, and he tenses, letting out a shaky breath. “You’re just so beautiful, little brat.”

“Th-thank! You! Mnnh!” You can’t focus, as you’re riding the waves of your climax, as you’re more sensitive, as he keeps fucking you through it, faster now, harder, and your cunt is deliciously stretched beyond it’s means, adjusting right to him.

“Like she’s made for this cock.” You’re panting, legs a trembling mess, and he’s brushing back your sweaty hair then, hand sliding up your throat, making you even wetter as it wraps your neck. “Want it baby?”

You nod, whining, clinging to him like he’s your goddamn lifeline, like he’ll tether you to the Earth he is making you careen off of. “Yes, please… choke me, Toru. I trust you.”

“Tap me if it’s too much. I got you though. Got you baby.” You gasp when he squeezes, pressing on the sides of your throat, and the pressure is intense, but it’s a good kind of intense, making everything else just fall away as he starts to thrust in and out. “Feel me in here? Don’t ya?” He presses his free hand on your tummy.

You can’t speak, you’re just drooling, as he fucks deep into you, so deep you can feel his cock in your stomach, right where his big hand presses. Your walls start to tighten around him as he hits all the right spots, his hand squeezing your throat, and your eyes roll back.

You feel your orgasm building again, the pressure in your stomach getting more and more intense, your cunt clenching around him, and he’s just grunting in pleasure, fucking into you like he’s claiming you, but honestly? You were already his, even if it wasn’t said just yet.

“T-Toru!” You can’t get much air out, but it doesn’t matter because he’s listening to your body, reading you like a book, and he knows exactly what you need.

“Cum for me, baby. Let me feel it.” He whispers those words and they send shivers down your spine. You nod, unable to speak, and he tightens his grip, making stars burst behind your eyes, as your ears ring from that grip, as he leans over you so powerful, so into you, just as you were, you could see it. The intensity.

You cum hard then, harder than you had even previously, the fuzziness of your head as the oxygen leaves your body, as you can barely hear with that ringing, your cunt pulsing around his cock. He slows on top of you, and your eyes roll back, you feel just like you’re floating, as he lets your throat go and you suck in a greedy breath, he falls on top of you, cupping your face.

“Feel so fuckin good, baby. Taking me so well, too, aren’t you?” You manage a weak nod with your now sore neck, and he catches your lips, sloppy wet kisses, as he tenses above you, rhythm getting jerky.

You struggle to find words, still gasping for air, still feeling like you’re floating. “Toru… I’m… yours.”

Fuck, you’re stupid, huh?

You tense then, worried you’ve said too much, as Satoru pauses, looking down at you, still holding your face in his huge hands. But then, he exhales, his sky blue eyes glittering as they drink you in, brows shoved together as he rolls his hips slowly again, pressing against that spot that you can’t handle. You cry out at that, clinging to him desperately.

“You’re mine?” You just nod, and he moans out, kissing you again, holding your hips and shoving them down on his cock, you whine helplessly, as sweat drips from his chest onto your breasts. “All mine, baby?”

“All yours, Toru.” His eyes flutter shut, you feel him throbbing inside you, right against your cervix, thickening impossibly.

“This only for me?” His voice gets huskier, deeper, his grip tight as he runs his hand down your body, bending to kiss you again. “Say it, brat.”

“Mnh… you like that huh?” You tease, rolling your own hips up, and he hisses at that, eyes glazing over.

“Maybe I do.” He caresses your face gently, making you melt, and then you feel him pulse again, and he tenses, muscles hard and bunching over you. “Where do you want it, I’m close baby.”

You flush then, looking down for a moment, before your brow scrunches up and your tummy tenses, he shoves inside you deep in a swift motion. “I want it in me.”

He growls, grabbing your thighs then, pressing them up high, the pressure against your breasts making you lose your breath for a moment. “I’m gonna fill you up so good, until you’re dripping down my cock. You want that brat?”

“Please, please Toru. I want it.” He starts fucking fast, rough, hips snapping against yours and slamming against you, and you feel yourself rising, on edge again, whining out his name.

“Can you take all of it, baby? All this cum?” His eyes are mad now, glinting wildly, his tongue gliding along his lower lip, pressing down those thighs more, balls deep, hitting so hard you can’t function. “Answer, brat.”

“Y-yes. I can. Jerk, do it.” He laughs a bit, breathless at you, and you’re about to fall apart again, orgasm building until you feel you’re going to burst.

“Oh yes, milk me with that perfect cunt, fuck…” He shoves in all the way, bottoming out, as you stretch to fit him impossibly, and you feel him then, hot streams of white cum pulsing in you. You gasp at the sensation, as he pumps you full, pulling back and shoving more cum deep inside.

You can’t stop the wetness that’s gushing from your cunt, all around him, as you jerk at the way it feels, so hot and deliciously nasty, as you feel yourself shoving his cum out around him. As he keeps pumping it, oversensitive and whimpering, his cheeks flushed as he kisses you, as you’re a mess under him, barely able to handle any more, barely able to form a thought.

“ Fuck …” He whispers, landing on you, with his heavy weight, and you giggle then, holding onto him, as he kisses your cheeks, your face. “I’ve never felt anything better than painting these pretty insides.”

You’re bright red then, struggling to think of a response, as he caresses your hair, nuzzling your neck. Your hands slide up and down his body, feeling every muscle, crevice, loving every bit of him. His breaths are hot on your chest, as he kisses his way across your delicate collarbone, his soft white hair falling against your overheated skin, blowing it and grinning at you, until he sees it.

“You’re crying… are you okay baby?” He eases out then, hissing at the sensation as you did as well, feeling empty as your pussy throbs, as he’s pouring out of you, so much cum it’s ridiculous, all mixed with you.

“I loved it. I’m so good.” He sits up on his knees, checking you, as if to look for some damage or something.

“Choke you too hard? Go too rough?” He murmurs, meticulously touching your body where he saw marks from him.

“TNo, not at all. I just really loved it.” You swipe your eyes, leaning up on your elbows, as he exhales in relief.

“You’re just a crybaby huh?”

“Dick!” You’re giggling though, when he pulls you tight against him, brushing your hair back gently, tilting your chin up. “It was just really intense.”

“Fuck yeah it was… I’ve never…” He sighs a bit.

“Never what, Toru?” Your hands slide up his bare chest, feeling his heartbeat steady against your hand.

“This? It’s not normal. None of it. Lost myself in you.” You’re crying a fresh set of tears now, and smile tremulously.

“I did okay then?” He glares then.

“Not okay, no. You’re fucking perfect. Perfect fit for me.” As his tone lowers, you feel an impossible desire in your pelvis hitting, god just his words…

“I was worried, you’re so experienced.”

“So even more of a compliment hmm? Elite pussy.”

You just sniffle, smiling, until you both look into each other’s eyes. “You said I’m like your girlfriend, yeah?”

“I did. I’d ask, but no reason to, I know you’re dying to be with me.” He winks and you roll your eyes at him. “It’s true.”

“Shut it, you’re so conceited!”

“Why not be? I’m amazing. You should be conceited too!”

“You’re silly.” He pulls you close, smashing his lips down on yours, and you all breathe into each other, as he pulls you on to his lap, making you gasp a bit.

“You wasted so much cum. Tsk Tsk.” You tense at his tone, at that devilish damn grin, at his bright eyes mad.

“Toru… wha- ngh!” He shoves his fingers in you, pushing that cum in you, already sensitive and achy, you cry out at it, overstimulated and wriggling, as he just holds you firm in his lap, your ass on his hard thighs, cock against you.

“You can take more, can’t you baby?” He cooes those words, so sweet and mocking, and you see the thrill he’s getting, as you shake your head and he pushes dripping cum in you again. “Can’t waste all this, how will I knock you up?”

“Wh-what!?” He’s pushing more, and you feel so hot, like you’re going to lose it, when he’s playing your clit now, and you feel him grow hard. “Again? So soon!?”

“You’re so sexy.” His husky voice moans those words out, and you feel your tiny bit of resolve fail. “Wouldn’t you be hot with my babies in you?”

“Toru, that’s… fucking… crazy! Ngh!” He’s rubbing your clit now, shoving your plush thighs closed.

“Keep every drop, now. Good girl.” You’re soaking his thigh, and he hums at that, pushing you down. “Feel how hot you are. Your cunt is so needy.”

“Babies though!? Are you all kinky and into breeding whatever!”

“You’re really cute.” He kisses your nose, and you glare, just making him smile more at you. “So cute when you’re mad, too.”

“Be serious!”

“Yeah, it’s kinky. But it’s not my fault I wanna fill you with so much cum you can’t function, so much it’ll drip down your thighs at school.”

“Fuck…” You’re making some stupid mewling sound from the back of your throat, leaning closer to him now, desire making your eyes lidded, glazed.

“Like that idea? Is my good girl becoming a slut for me?” You can’t stand it, how much he’s affecting you, how you enjoy these dirty words.

“Shut it, Toru.” He laughs a bit, taking the finger he’d used to push cum in you and putting it to your lips.

“Taste how good we are together.” He whispers, and you eagerly suck on them then, and you see it, how his face changes, from teasing to ravenous. You swirl your tongue and suck them with a pop, enjoying how his full lips part, how his grip on your hip falters. “Fuck, you’re sexy.”

At that he’s got those two fingers up in your sore little hole, thrusting the tips up and hitting that spongy little part, over and over, and you’re so sensitive you almost cum from just that. He’s kissing down your breasts, pulling you to straddle him then, as his legs sit off the edge of the bed.

“Mnh! Toru …” He’s sucking on the peaks of your breasts now, nuzzling between them, before lavishing each with attention, as he grabs your hips and grinds you against his thick length.

“Wrap those arms around me baby.” Your hands grip his broad shoulders, as he grabs your ass, eyes hungry again. “Wanna ride this cock?”

“I… don’t know… how.” He smiles, softly then instead of that mad hatter look of before, hands taking your hips now.

“Want Professor Gojo to teach you?” You giggle at that, looking back into his heady gaze.

“Wanna teach your best student how to ride your cock?” You whisper, rolling your hips then, and he’s grunting at that, thumbs digging into your soft hips. “You’re so naughty, Professor.”

“You’re the naughty one, Miss Brat. You like to really pick on my damn fantasy of you.”

“Just a fantasy about me?”

“Fuck yeah it’s just you.” You melt then, and kiss him, grinding your clit against his length, so good with the slick friction you feel like you’re going to cum right then, trembling and gasping. “You don’t even need teaching. Natural.”

“Toru… Please.” He lifts your ass up now, and he grabs his cock, pressing it at your sopping wet entrance, exhaling as you lean down, bit by bit, just taking him slowly in. “Oh fuck…”

“You feel so… mnh…” He’s just muttering as you sink down on his length, as he watches his cock disappear inside you, your tight walls fluttering around him. “Oh my god…”

“Like that, Professor?” You ask, breathy and shaky, and he just nods then, guiding your hips up and down, until you’re moving on your own, thighs burning as you begin to move, as he gets so deep like this.

“Just like that, Miss brat. Perfect… student… getting… an A. Fuck!” You sink fully now, crying out when he’s back against your abused little cervix, and you can barely move as the feeling hits way too hard.

“An… A… hmm? Shit…” Neither of you are coherent any longer, not as he pushes up, hitting an angle that makes your cunt pulse, making pleasure wave through every inch of your skin. “Ah!”

“A-plus pussy.” He leans back and slides up again, bringing you to straddle him as he lays back now, hands balancing on his hard chest, your hair falling like a curtain across your face. He brushes it back, pulling your hips against his, cock pressing against that damn spot, the one you can’t take.

You arch your back, head falling back as the overwhelming feeling of Satoru’s huge cock so deep at this angle rakes through your body, Satoru uses this opportunity to grab your lush breasts, pinching your nipples. Then, his hand goes lower, thumb rubbing little circles on your clit, and you start trembling on top, so overstimulated, as your thighs clench around his narrow hips.

“You’re so beautiful riding me, baby.” He encourages you with his words, that look on his pretty face, his hands as one grips and one pleases. “Cum all over my cock, please, need to fucking feel it again.”

You’re unraveling, and you start screaming as the orgasm washes through you, and you’re soaking his stomach, liquid gushing all over, making Satoru suck on the finger that had just been stroking you, looking so sexy you can’t handle him. Your thighs grow weak after, and you fall forward, struggling to move, Satoru pulls your hips up as you lay on him.

“Need me to use you baby?” You have no clue what he means, looking at him with cock drunk eyes, body boneless from how much he’s taken out of you.

“Whass… mean. Toru.” You tremble in his hold, as he moans, caressing the face that rests against his chest.

“You don’t move, just let me use you, like my little fuck doll. Yeah?” He jerks his hips then, and you just whimper, clinging to him, pussy so full it nearly hurts. You nod, weakly. “Come hold on to me.”

You slide up a bit, clinging to Satoru’s broad shoulders, fingers on damp skin that shimmers with sweat, and he places the flats of his feets on the bed, eyes drinking your expression in, as he lifts your ass up. Then he’s slamming up into you, fucking harder than he had before, fucking every thought out of your brain, making you completely dumb, all you do is feel.

God, feel everything too. That strong body under you, cock pushing your limits, tip slamming your cervix. How his big hands are so tight on the fat of your ass as he lifts and slams you down hard, then grinds up into you, stubble right above his perfect cock giving your abused clit more delicious friction.

You feel his breath on you, his gaze so addicted, just like yours, you can taste his sweat as you lick and nip his chest, clinging for dear life. Feel his moans vibrate his chest, your tits bouncing and your ass smacking against his muscled thighs. Over and over, he keeps raising you higher and higher, until you can’t take it.

“C-cumming!” You cry out, helpless. He shoved up hard then, pressing and rolling his hips. He shushes you then, smacking your ass and making you squeak.

“Do dolls speak?” You shake your head, thrill rushing as he says that, in that commanding voice. “Good girl, such a good girl. Now you stay still and let me use this perfect pussy.”

You struggle not to move, not to speak, biting your lower lip, brows furrowing, and he’s just fucking into you, until you’re cumming hard all over him, wetness making the squishing sounds of him pounding your pussy obscene. You’re just clinging to him, letting him fuck all the sense out of you.

“Keep cumming all over me, pretty little toy.”

He urges you on, one hand up in your hair now, pulling at the base of your neck, yanking so hard you cry out, but it feels so good, him fucking the shit out of you, slamming into you so damn hard. He’s grunting under you, all sweaty, and you’re just soaking him, his stomach, his thighs, all over, staying still for him.

“Ready for me to fill you, pretty doll?” You nod, whining then, and he locks you tight, shoving up hard and rolling you against him, groaning and just watching you as he pumps you more. “Can you take more, like a good girl?”

“Mnh!” You’re trembling, nails digging into his shoulders, and your head falls to the side, inviting him to bite your neck then, as he shoves even more of his hot load in you.

“F-fuck… I never wanna cum anywhere else again. Ruined.” You manage a breathy laugh, as he finishes pouring cum, and it’s just getting pushed out of your little stretched hole.

“Can the doll talk?” You tease, he smirks, nodding and rubbing his hands gently down your arms. “That was hot as fuck.”

He grins, kissing you then. “Baby I have so much to show you.”

“All this weekend?”

He frowns. “We will not just fuck this weekend.”

“But-”

“You can come to my place. We’ll just be careful. You think this is gonna be it? Fuck no. Addicted.” You moan at his words, cupping his face and sliding up him, he pops out of your cunt, and you pour more of a mess on him.

“I’ve been addicted. God, it's so hard not to play with myself in class.” He chuckles at that, devious grin on his face.

“You should though.”

“What!”

“Fuck it’d be hot. Record it.”

“You’re nuts, Satoru!”

“You like it, don’t you?” You sigh, nodding with a shy smile. “So shy like I didn’t just pump two loads of cum in you.”

“You’re so freaky!”

“You haven’t even seen freaky yet. That was very Vanilla.”

“Pushing cum in me?” He wiggles his brows at you. “Okay… then what’s not vanilla?”

“You’ll get there.” He taps your nose and you roll your eyes, but fuck you’re crazy intrigued. “I’ll go start the Jacuzzi and clean you up.”

He sits up carefully, picking you up with ease, and you cling to him, snuggling against his neck, suddenly feeling your entire body aching. Spots you didn’t even know existed. He sits you up on the little sink then, washing one of the fluffy cloths and then bending down, making you close your thighs a bit.

“Let me clean her. Don’t be embarrassed.” You sigh, spreading your thighs, completely naked in the little bathroom, as he cleans up his cum that’s sticking to your inner thighs.

“You came a lot.” He laughs, the sound so pleasing it makes your chest tighten, then he sighs, rubbing your inner thighs with the wet cloth gently.

“Yeah I haven’t came that much before.”

“Pent up, Professor?”

“No I jack off thinking about you a lot. Guess not the same.” The way he, Satoru Gojo, the most beautiful person you’ve ever seen, casually talks about being so thirsty for you?

Fuck.

“So those two months, you… fucked around though. I mean, you never knew if you’d see me again.” He frowns a bit at that, walking to the jacuzzi to turn it on.

“I haven’t been with anyone since you sat in my class.”

“Really?”

“How could I, when I look at you and realize everyone else is… just nothing in comparison. But, yeah after the club I tried. I didn’t know what that was, it was scary as fuck, how’d I like eating pussy better than any sex I’d had. That taste .” He bends low, kissing your puffy lips then, and you suck in a breath, brushing back his hair.

“I mean we are just now… dating? So it is okay whatever happened.”

“Did you…try at all?”

“No. Knew everything would be shit after it.” He kisses your inner thigh then, looking up at you, resting his head on your thigh, as you continue to brush his hair, like he’s worshiping you.

“I couldn't cum with them, it just… I don't know. Felt off. Are you upset I did before you came to…”

“No not at all!”

“I'd be so mad if you did.” You blink at that.

“What?”

“So mad. That anyone else got this but me.” You suck in a breath as he rubs up and down your slit then.

“Toxic ass Professor.”

“Needy little brat.” 

He's picking you up again, your legs wrap right around him, as he carries you into the steaming jacuzzi, the warm water enveloping your exhausted body. He sets you down gently, and you lean back against his chest, letting the bubbles tickle your skin as his arms wrap around your waist.

You sigh contentedly, feeling the tension in your muscles begin to melt away. His hands slide up to cup your breasts, thumbs brushing over your sensitive nipples, and you arch your back into his touch. "Ugh, that feels so good," you murmur, eyes closing at his touch.

He chuckles, kissing the top of your head. "You're so responsive, Miss Brat. It's like your body was made for my touch." His fingers pinch and tug at your nipples, and you can't help but let out a little moan.

"Toru…" You breathe out his name softly, eyes opening to look at him, as his head is bending over you, tilting your chin so that your lips meet, as the bubbles rush across both of your bodies.

“Is it made for me?”

“Do you think so?”

“Mmm… I think it's why no one got you off. Had to wait for me.” You cry out when he spreads your thighs, jets streaming against your pussy.

“Maybe I am then. But… I'm also mnh… scared. Are you?”

“Terrified. Think you're actually a witch or something just fucking with me.” You giggle, breaking some of the tension, then you're writhing under his touch as he strokes your pussy under the water.

“It's like I can't get enough of you. That's scary Toru.” He moans, kissing down the side of your neck. “I don't wanna get hurt.”

He pauses at that, looking down at you then. “You think I'll hurt you?”

“The situation moreso. It's so much unknown. But it feels so perfect right now.” You take his free hand in yours, entwining your little fingers in his long ones. He exhales.

“Fuck the world for now. Just me and you tonight. Mmkay?” You nod, then you're gasping as he's fingering you, as you feel his hard cock against your back, hot and insistent. “Wanna stay buried inside that pussy.”

His words break you, you're shivering in his hold. “I don't wanna leave this little bubble.”

“Then focus on this. Let me make you feel so good, yeah?” You shamelessly arch back against his touch, turning and touching his face, water droplets falling from your fingers down your wrist, as his finger pushes in, pumping, just watching you as your face contorted in pleasure. “So fuckin pretty.”

“I’ll already have more sex than I’ve ever had if we go again.” You whisper, and he laughs a bit, then groans when he hits your g spot, and you’re crying out, soaking him.

“I’m mad anyone ever fucked this pussy.” He purrs those words, making your shiver, his free hand cupping your face and eyes boring into you.

“Are you?” He nods, kissing you then, as his fingers hit your spot over and over, building back up a sweet pressure.

“So fucking mad. That anyone ever even kissed these lips.”

“Toru…” You’re emotional then, as he’s so possessive, but all it does is turn you on, make you soaked even under the hot water of the jets. “Maybe I’m mad anyone ever kissed you.” Your words are a ghost of a whisper.

“Get me to forget anyone ever has, then.” You turn, straddling him, your breasts popping up, water falling in rivulets as you lean in, kissing him deep, tongue stroking his, as you feel his hardness under the water, pressing and insistent.

“Is that a challenge, Professor?” Your eyes lock, and he makes you feel so sexy, so confident in that moment, that you roll your hips and slide his thick cock between your soaking lips, watching him unravel himself. “You gonna make me forget too?”

“Bet you already fucking have, huh?” You bite your lip, as his hand slides down to grip your ass, holding you tight against him as he starts to rock his hips, his cock sliding along your slit further, and you’re trembling, close to cumming. “Not a damn thought of any idiot in your brain.”

“Only you, the only… idiot…” He scowls, as you giggle.

“Gotta shut this mouth up, little brat.” He stands then, and you gasp as he’s dragging you out, bending you over the sink and smacking your ass hard, it’s dripping wet so it burns horribly.

“Ow, shit!” You glare back at him.

“Idiot huh?”

“My handsome idiot!”

Smack.

“Ow, ow, ow. Your hand is too big!” He smacks your ass again, pulling your hips further up.

“Say sorry, don’t be such a difficult student.” You bite back a moan at his tone, as he barely grazes your slick heat with one finger.

“Gonna punish me, Professor? Where’s your yardstick- ah!” Your legs shake now, as droplets fall off your body from the jacuzzi, as the cool air of the bathroom hits your wet skin and you shiver.

“Say sorry, Miss Brat. I can smack this nice ass all fucking night.” He does so again, right between your thighs, hitting your over heated pussy too, and you groan out at the sensation. “Pretty, slutty little student.”

“Slutty for you, Professor. Mmm.” He grabs your ass now, and you shudder as you feel his cock at your entrance, probing the inner parts of your glistening lips then, just teasing.

“If you would be a good girl, I’d make you cum again. But no. You’re a little brat.” He pulls back, and you whine, as he’s landing another smack.

“Please, Toru, I need you again. Please.” You look to him, seeing the hunger in his gaze, then he leans forward, pressing you against the counter, and you feel him shoving your thighs closed around his cock. “Toru!”

“Say sorry, brat. Say how smart I am. Oh and handsome while you’re at it.” He huffs then starts fucking between your slippery thighs, groaning and gripping your hips, just torturously teasing your pussy.

“You’re not an idiot… well you are but- never mind Toru you’re smart! Just a little silly- ah!”

“Silly huh? Well. Let me keep fucking your plush thighs, not your pussy. It’ll make me cum… oh fuck… this is all I need.” You grip the counter, only feeling the underside of his cock as he ruts into your inner thighs, that squeeze him tightly as you struggle to hold it together.

“Toru… s-sorry. Sorry. Please.” He hums, and you feel his precum smearing against your slit for just a moment, making wetness trickle out of your little hole. He groans at that, pausing.

“Soaking wet from me fucking your thighs? Not even touching your needy little pussy?” You feel tears of frustration, as you arch your ass, looking in the mirror then, seeing his reddened cheeks.

“You wanna be in my pussy. Don’t just want-ah- these thighs, do you?”

He grins at your reflection. “You cryin again, huh?”

“Fuck you, Professor .”

“You’d like me to, Student. Oh she really wants me to.” He leans forward, thrusting again and again, just barely grazing you, and he comes to grab your hair, still damp, pulling it so your head is arched.

“I said please. You’re so sadistic ugh!”

“I can cum from these thighs no problem. Feel so good.” He’s forcing you to watch in the mirror, as he mercilessly thrusts, and you want more, god you want more, you’re a whimpering mess. “So wet for me, should I give her any attention?”

“Ple-ease… Toru. Please.” You gasp when he presses his cock up, pushing the tip against your clit, and your hips buck, hands clenching the counter tightly. “Fuck, yes, please!”

“Demanding little brat. Say it, how smart I am.” You roll your eyes, then he stops, going back to your thighs. You panic.

“So smart, Satoru! Smartest… man ever. Please.” Your eyes catch his, and you pout.

“Puppy dog eyes, really?” You nod, and he sighs, stuttering his hips movements then. “Okay I’m smart and…”

“Gorgeous. Fuck!”

“And…”

“And… have a huge cock.”

“Mmm, we’re getting there.” His lips kiss down your neck, and one of his hands finds your clit then, you cry out at it, grinding shamelessly on his hand. “I like you so desperate, looking so fucking stunning, but you beg for me.”

“You’ve got… a hell of a… praise kink.” He bites your neck hard at that, and it just makes you wetter, more desperate. “Please, I need your cock in me.”

“You love this cock huh?” You don’t bother to play, you nod, struggling to press against it now, making his grip tighten around your waist. “Say it.”

“I love your cock, Toru.”

“And I love this pussy, baby.” At that he finally is back at your entrance, and you eagerly arch up, hissing when he’s nibbling that spot again, pushing past that tight little ring of muscles, moans vibrating your skin.

He’s in you again, fucking in deep, making you feel like you’re going to pass out, as he’s stroking your clit with his finger, the other hand now back in your hair, and he’s pulling on it so you’re forced to look at him in the mirror, to see his smug expression as he’s owning your body.

“T-Toru!”

“That’s it baby, you’re gonna scream my name, got it?” You nod, unable to speak then, and he starts to fuck you, hard and fast, his hips slapping against your ass, his cock hitting all the right spots, making you moan and whine and beg for more. 

He’s so deep, so intense, and then you’re just there, shattering around him, your orgasm ripping through your body quickly, making you scream, making him tighten his grip on you. “Oh Fuck… Toru!”

“That’s it, pretty, that’s it.” He urges you on, pushing down at the middle of your back, and yanking you by your hair. “Want me to fuck you until you can’t think?”

“Please, Toru… please.” He slams again, cock so deep it’s hard to handle physically, your mind is going numb, your head spinning, as he keeps pushing into you, over and over, his balls smacking your clit with each push, his weight on you as he presses you in the counter.

He tilts your head, lips a breath from yours, dominating everything you are, fuck you couldn’t think of anything . That he’s your professor, that you’re his student, that you all don’t know each other fully yet, that you’re begging him to fill you. To use you. That you are falling so deep you’ll never be able to be without him.

That was so scary.

But…

Fuck he feels good, fuck he’s pretty, his eyes swirling with desire, his breath hot on your lips, cock pressing in so deep you can’t figure out where you begin and he ends, Satoru is all your senses. His hard body, thick cock, pretty damn face, kissing you deeply then, roughly, tongue sloppily sliding against your lips, lips that burn for him, body that is wrecked for him.

“Keep saying it baby,” he whispers against your lips then. Keep saying my fucking name.”

And you do, your voice hoarse as you chant his name against his lips. “Toru. Toru. Toruu… T-Toru!”

“Yes, baby, yes. Cum all over me again. Let me fuckin feel it.” You whimper at that, your legs shaking as he’s just taking you apart, so beautifully destroyed in his arms. “That’s it, that’s it. You’re so good for me.”

“Toru I fucking… I love…” You almost say it. Almost say you love him. Have you lost your fucking mind? Have you…

He groans, holding you tight around the waist with one hand, kissing the side of your neck, his hand stroking your clit gently as he’s still buried deep, damp skin sliding against your back. “You love… what. Say it.”

“C-can’t. Can’t. Fuck… s’good… Toru!” He’s pressing you further down, cock railing you hard now, and your cunt is so slippery, as he fucks the remnants of his cum out of you, and you’re soaking wet now as you keep cumming.

“Feel so perfect, milking me for everything, fuck.” He slows his thrusts, resting his head against your back, kissing it, hands trailing down your spine, and you’re cumming so hard, so sensitive, so exhausted, you barely register anything. All you know is Satoru Gojo now. It’s all you want to know.

“Toru… s’much… I can’t… fuck!” He presses in, exhausted, gripping you in that big bruising hold, making that sexy sound from the back of his throat.

“Why do you feel so good? So perfect? Never felt… anything… like you.” He’s slowly shoving his cock against you, then pulling fully back out nearly, then again, torturously slow. “S’tight… s’good baby.”

“You’re… s’good… want you… for…” Satoru groans, leaning up and yanking your head up, kissing you, desperate, messy, greedy. “Say it… that she’s mine. This pussy. Mine.”

“It’s yours, Toru. Yours- ngh!” He’s pressing against you, flicking your clit again, and it’s too much, you’re screaming, tears pouring down your face, as he kisses you again, again.

“Fill you up again. Never-ah!” He hissed as he started twitching inside you, that thick tip leaking that precum against you. “Never… anyone… else. In you. On you. Just… me… say it.”

“Toru…” You whine, you can barely handle anymore, he picks you up and pulls you against his cock, and you almost fall, if it wasn’t for him holding you, your legs completely give out, he fucks you to the brink of losing conciousness. “Don’t want any-mnh-one. Jus’you… Toruu, please.”

“Only want you. Only you.” You’re crying more now, as his words hit your stupidly fucked brain, the one that isn’t working, and you crave them, need them.

“Love this. Love it. Love… ngh fuck!” He’s gonna fuck it out of you if he doesn’t stop, but finally, he presses in one more time.

“Filling her up. Again. Feel me up here.” He presses your lower tummy, and you whine, pathetically, as he’s kissing you, pressed over you, feeling his cock pulse inside you now, his own orgasm hitting, filling you up with his warm cum, making your pussy spasm around him. “Oh-fuck… baby.”

“Toru… Toru…” It’s like all you can say is his name, as he’s still coming, how much cum could there be? You’re just a trembling mess in his arms, he’s made you into a puddle of nothing.

“Perfect. Fucking perfect.” He whispers, kissing your shoulder, then easing up off you a bit, heart racing as he pulls out, and you feel so empty, you whine, at how sore your pussy was.

“Love.. it… mnh…” You can’t form a word properly, and Satoru helps you up, turning you to him then, and when your legs give out he catches you, holding you tight against him, his beautiful hazy blue gaze on you. You press your hands against his perfect marble chest, looking up at those perfect features, his white lashes low, eyes lidded.

He caresses your face, exhaling, and you both stand there, breaths erratic as each of you comes down from the high that was each other. “Love what?”

You’re flushed, exhausted, sweaty… you bury your face against his skin, hot and sticky from the exertions of taking you. God, that had to be the word, he took you.

“Love this. So much.” You whisper, as he sighs, snuggling you tight. “Like I knew it was going to be good, but this?”

“Fucking ridiculous. We fit so…”

“Perfect.”

“Yeah, that.” He tilts your chin up, wiping your face. “You’re so getting an A all semester.” You giggle at him then, as he helps clean you up again, and leans down between your thighs. “Oooh, beat her up.”

“Shut it!” You shove at him with your foot on his shoulder, and he just laughs a bit, taking you by the ankle, pressing your leg up and kissing it, making you sigh in bliss, as you watch this gorgeous man fawn over you.

“Pretty ankles even.” He kisses the top of your foot. “The feet even. I don’t even like them but you know, they’re cute.”

“Flattering me, hmm?” He gives you that wolfish grin, the one that lights up his handsome face, and you melt, as he kisses your thigh, then you gasp when his hot breath is on your soft tummy, kissing it.

“Tummy will be so hot filled with me.”

“It already is!” He smirks, pressing on it, eyes wildly blue, his pupils so blown out at this point it hurt to look, but it hurt so fucking good.

“And your poor little cunt.” He kisses it now, and you shiver, hips rocking as you press your ass against the counter. “Bet she hurts huh?”

“You’re a demon.” You mutter. “Ah-don’t no no!”

He’s flicking his tongue, groaning as he slides it up your slit, tasting both of you, making you nearly fall apart as the sound vibrates against you. Your hands grip his shoulders tight. “God we taste so good together.”

“We do… don’t we?” You whisper, making him look up at you, so… god is it lovingly? Can’t be… but…

He licks himself and you off your slit, popping a sloppy kiss on your puffy clit then, leaning up, planting little kisses everywhere, hands brushing against every mark you hate. Those little stretch marks you hate on your inner thighs, the little roll as you sit that smushes just a tiny bit, the little birthmark, the freckles decorating your shoulders, just touches you everywhere, kisses everywhere.

You fade into it, head lolling back, exhausted, spent, loving it, loving…

Him.

Satoru Gojo.

“You’re so pretty.” He whispers, as you kiss him now, wrapping your arms around his neck, leaning against his hard body.

“You make me feel pretty, Satoru. Thank you.” You whisper, cupping his face, and he shakes his head.

“Don’t thank me. Thank me for making you cum so hard you can’t walk.” He says, husky, and you suck in another cry, your well fucked face staring up at him.

“I’m so sleepy, Toru. You’ve fucked all the energy out.” He laughs again, and soon you all are getting changed, you’re in little pajamas that have cute little skulls on them, he’s in a pair of bright blue boxers, nothing else. “God… don’t know if I’ll get used to your body… like art.”

“That’s so cheesy! But it's true.” He winks, and you shove at him, until he’s tickling you and you’re screaming.

“No, stop, hate it ugh!” He tickles your waist, your hips, as you laugh, and he laughs, finally relenting, and you realize he’s on top of you in the bed, and it’s night time and… 

“Ready to cuddle, baby?” You nod, eagerly, you had been unsure… were you all gonna just sleep? Or-

“I’d love to cuddle. I get hot at night though.”

“You’re always hot.” He snuggles against you, pulling your back against him, strong thighs around your plush ones, your ass against where this demon was semi hard again, arm around you, hand on a breast. “Good thing I’m cold alot.”

“That works out.” He snuggles up, throwing the soft blanket over you both, and you already can feel your eyes drooping as the adrenaline starts to fade, lulled by the steady breath against your temple, as he kisses your head.

“I’ve been waiting to get you in my arms. Snuggle you.” You turn to look up at him then, how young and cute he looks like this, with those puppy dog eyes and his pretty little smile. You brush his soft hair back.

“I’ve also wanted to. This is much better than my shitty dorm bed though, you couldn’t fit. Too tall. Too beefy.” You pinch his thick arm, and he chuckles.

“I’d break that bed huh?” You giggle again. “I’ll just fuck you on the wall, your dresser…”

“You’d break those. Flimsy.”

“We’ll find out. Have the people wondering what the knocking on their walls is, and it’s the goodie goodie getting railed.”

“Toru!” He snorts, kissing you softly, moaning contentedly.

You feel perfect in his arms, God he can’t believe you’re here, you’re real, you’re so soft, you smell so good, and you’re so…

“Beautiful.” He murmurs, and he watches those pretty cheeks tinge pink, watches those dark lashes lower over your eyes.

“You’re beautiful, Satoru.” You whisper, as you look back at him, arm reaching behind you to play with his hair, making him feel so good.

“Course I am.” You roll your pretty eyes, you seem to enjoy him being… well, him… it was like he didn’t have to pretend, like he didn’t have to put on a show. He wonders if you know that.

He wonders…

You said love didn’t you?

The way you look at him, with those glazed over eyes, so full of affection… the way your lips part and you gasped when you saw him shirtless the first time. The way your hands entwined as he… made love to you. Satoru Gojo, the man who typically does backshots and gets blow jobs (of course he likes to eat pussy) but your pussy has him insane.

He tasted you after sex, he’d just wanted to. He’d not done that before, he’d not cum in a girl unprotected three times. He usually didn’t cum in women, aside from a couple serious girls of the past. But you? Fuck he wanted to knock you up, a stupid, wild idea, that he could imagine, as he presses your soft tummy, thinking about how much he’d put in you.

He’d never cum that hard.

He had more fun pleasing you than he ever had with anyone.

You’re so precious, as you just look at him, eyes fading as sleep pulls at you, sighing, and he tastes your sweet breath, as he feels it warm against his lips. You make this little sound, a little whimper, so content, as he studies you, every bit of you, more and more precious by the second.

“Toru… you working that case-” you yawn then. “Tomorrow?”

“I am, you’re coming with me. It’s for my old friend Sukuna. God, I think it’s like his tenth divorce now.” You giggle a bit, snuggling against his shoulder now, little hands gripping the arm wrapped around you. God, your touch…

“I’d never divorce unless it was… awful. I don’t wanna give up. If I ever do get married.” He lays behind you, head on your shoulder now.

“You ever dream about it, wear wedding dresses and run around?” You shake your head.

“Didn’t live that kinda life, Toru.” He tenses.

“Oh fuck… I…”

“It’s fine, promise.” You kiss his hand, snuggling even deeper, he feels that lush ass on him, those soft breasts against his arm. God he could go again, if you weren’t clearly so fucked out. “Why, wanna marry me Toru?” You mumble, and he just laughs a little bit.

“You wish, don’t you Brat,” you just hum at that. “Why are you so sleepy with me, am I boring you little brat?”

“No… you’re comfy.” You’re comfortable with him, clearly, as you fall asleep on his arm while he drives, drooling on his jackets. But it was cute. It was sweet. He loved it, actually. “I’m s’happy, don’t wanna leave this spot.”

“You just like my cock on your ass.” You giggle, sleepy, sighing and shaking your head, your drying hair falls soft against him.

“I’m sleepy as… fuck.” He laughs.

“Too many orgasms?”

“Hush. Good night, Toru. Sweet dreams.” You lean back again, kissing him, eyes fluttered shut, with those soft lips. He sighs, kissing you back, savoring your sweet touch, how good your mouth feels.

“Good night, pretty little brat.” You smile against his lips, then turn your head back around, and you fall asleep, as his hand slides up, feeling your heartbeat steady against his palm, kissing your head again, just inhaling you, like blossoms…

“Toru, don’t leave.” You say a few moments later, and he looks at you, blinking sleep from his eyes.

“I’m not going anywhere. Why?” He leans over to see your brow furrowed, hands gripping him tight, you’re clearly asleep and having some… bad dream or…

“Don’t wanna lose… love… Toru.” Satoru lays there, his heart pounding in his chest, and then he hears you exhale, and in minutes there’s the faintest snore.

He’d smile at how cute it was but…

Again, that one word out of your perfect mouth, punches him in the stomach. How could that be? Sure, friends loved him… parents, another story… and women always would say that, say they loved him. Maybe they did, who knows, but he’d never really felt it. Not like the way you just exist near him and fuck, that word.

It felt so good.

He loves this, cuddling you, having been inside you, had you cumming on him, god but you’re sexy. He wants you so much it hurts. Now that he’s had you it’s a million times worse, too. This uncontrollable feeling, the one where he just constantly needs to be near you, even though it’s next to impossible for now.

For now.

Would you wait? Would you move on? He couldn’t handle it.

He can’t lose you.

“Toru…” You’re murmuring his name in your sleep, and he delicately fingers that bracelet then, smiling as he thinks to himself, he knows what charm to add to it.

He drifts off, nuzzling your neck, and falls into a deep slumber.

Some time that night, you wake up a bit and blink in the dark room, stirring in your sleep, but then you feel him, his strong arms around you, one long leg on top of you, and his chin resting on the top of your head. His long body overtakes you, but it also protects you, and you feel so… peaceful. So blissful.

You turn in his arms, and look up at him, at his pretty face as he sleeps, his full lips rested apart, his long eyelashes casting shadows under his eyes. His pale skin glints in the dark room, just the moonlight filtering through the blinds, hitting his cheekbones and highlighting them. You gently run your hand down his face, and he nuzzles it unconsciously.

Love.

You’ve never felt love. Aside from Maki, Yuta. But this?

Is this all consuming feeling, this overt affection, this need, this desire… the feeling that overwhelms you. The one that makes your heart race, chest tighten, the endless thoughts about him. About the man becoming so precious to you, even if it’s a mess, and he’s conceited, and it’s ‘wrong’ and this and that. You’ve never felt happier than being in his arms.

You brush worries away, just for now.

Instead, you brush his soft white hair, running your fingertips against his scalp, burying your face in the crook of his neck, as his arms pull you tightly against him, and he whispers your name in your ear. You tense, looking up, at his angled chin, his slightly open mouth, running a thumb across it.

Does he dream of you?

It seems mad, this whole thing. But…

When you snuggle back in his arms, you’ve never felt so good, so… at home. What was a home, really, to a girl like you?

Satoru’s arms.

Now you just wanna do anything to be able to stay.

Chapter 7

Ao3 chap:

https://archiveofourown.org/works/56895382/chapters/147159391

[secondhandroad]

one thing we don’t talk about enough is that although sam is obviously a very good hunter he HAD to be worse than dean for a significant part of the series. like yes john trained them both but dean has the head start of age, and then also he likes it! he wants to be the best damn hunter in the great plains! he wants to be john! so of course he’s out practicing with a three types of guns and a crossbow every day whenever he gets a chance. meanwhile sam’s extra time is for frantically trying to scrape decent grades and a damn SAT score out of that life.

then of course there’s stanford. four more years of likely increasingly difficult hunts for dean, and then learning to hunt solo, something sam makes clear in the pilot they’ve never done. meanwhile for sam—school, and the lsat, and a pretty girl who wants dates and time and joy.

season one must’ve had dean’s heart going HAYWIRE because yes he wants sam back and yes sam is still an athletic genius with great instincts but that boy is also out of practice. dean is leaping over dug-up graves to shove him out of the way. dean is stitching him up after a hunt gone wrong and yelling awful awful things at him because jesus christ sammy. let me take the lead. you do what you’re told and stay behind me for once. you ain’t ready yet, kiddo.

which makes it so much worse a betrayal when sam declares himself the better hunter in season four. which makes the pride so much sweeter when dean realizes just how damn good sam is in season fourteen, watching sam play as Chief, and realizing he crafted that boy into that hunter. that man.

[starseneyes]

Spock / Nurse Christine Chapel - Star Trek: Strange New Worlds S2 Eps 4 & 5

Folks, this is a wild time to be alive. Since we had bits and pieces leading up to 2x05, I'll touch on those first, and then we can get into the meet of a super uncomfortable, yet hilarious episode.

SPOILER ALERT: If you're looking for a friendly non-spoiler glimpse at this ep, please do not click through! I am a spoiler queen, and I go deep.

There's a tiny sliver of 4, so I included it in this recap, but it's primarily episode 5 in all its cringey, hilarious glory.

Everyone squared away and ready to play? Let's dive in!

"Among the Lotus Eaters" AKA "Who Am I, Again?"

"Hi, Spock. What's happening?"

He's the lieutenant currently in charge of the Enterprise, but she's totally conversational with him, here. She's got bigger things on her mind, which is why I think the formality escapes her.

Una Fumbles for Words

Spock looks to Christine to see if she's on the same page, but she's way ahead of him. I love these little wordless interactions of theirs. It shows that they're still them under these complicated emotions flowing between and through them.

"Charades" AKA "Hijinks Part Deux"

After watching the sneak peek, the promo, and reading the episode description, I came up with what I thought was going to happen:

Spock/Christine crash near beginning of episode

Spock loses his Vulcanness because some alien wants him and Christine to match like collector dolls

Spock's "What the F-" leads into main credits

Christine spends the whole ep working the problem

Spock has very little interaction with her, all things considered, as a human

Christine has to appeal to an alien entity to get Spock back to himself

Spock and Christine share a moment of truth before he is returned to himself

Possible Spock/Christine kiss to end the episode

IF Spock/Christine kiss, they were kissing before "What does this mean?" from preview

How did I do? Well, if you watched the episode, you know already. And while I didn't get all the details right (you'd have to be inside my brain for that bit), I think I did petty well!

Chistine's Log

It's great that we're getting a look into her mind, what she values, and how she organizes her thoughts. And I have to applaud Jess Bush on the voice work on this one, because her inflection on her lines has always been a treat, and it's just as wonderful via VO.

Christine is excited about the Kherkovians and excited about her possible fellowship. What I love most about the montage is how we see everyone rallying and supporting her.

This is Christine's "Elle Woods Studies for the LSATS" montage. And as we go through matching cuts (this director seems to be a huge fan of them), we eventually arrive at a table with friends... and shots!

And can we talk about these three boss ass bitches hanging out together and drinking together? Like, I love that we're back to that idea that a starship is a family, and that these people are the people you actually like and want to be around. It's so bloody glorious.

"I don't get it. Your interview is with a Vulcan. So why aren't you practicing with Mr. Spock?"

Yeah, Christine. Why aren't you spending alone time with Mr. Spock? Of course, that's not what La'an means, but you can see how Christine blanches at the mention of their pointy-eared friend.

"Oh, things are kind of weird between them."

Erica. Ortegas. You did not just do that! M'Benga would never.

But, I'm personally glad Christine opened up at least a little to one of her best friends. We saw her hesitating back in S1 to tell Erica about her crush on Spock.

So, at some point, Christine opened up enough to Erica that now her friend's spreading her messy maybe-relationship to their mutual friend.

"Weird how?"

Erica's smirking while Christine's in shock. Christine doesn't talk about her feelings. She shoves them deep down where she doesn't have to deal with them and pretends they don't exist.

Friendships are great for Christine. Friends-with-benefits? Hell, yeah! But talk about the potential for a relationship? Or having feelings rather than simple attraction? This is outside of Christine's comfort zone.

She buries herself in her drink, much as she did in the first season with Erica when she said, "It would have to be the right man."

Well, honey, I don't know if he's the right man, but he's definitely the man in your mind right now.

A Scientist, A Doctor, A Nurse, And a Turbolift

The turbolift scene is brief, but impactful. Christine tries to catch his eye because she wants to assure herself they can get back in their boxes. But Spock cracked open Pandora's box of emotions. There is no going back.

Spock is praising himself for his emotional control. But he was almost tripped up by crumbs. Crumbs. What would he do if he was face-to-face with the woman he wept over right now?

As Spock leaves without a single word to the two of them, M'Benga and Christine look at one another.

And I thank God I was watching this on my bed at 3 in the morning and not during my lunch break, per usual, because I'm pretty sure my drink would've shot through my nose at M'Benga's face.

Seriously. If you haven't rewatched this brief scene, go back and do it if only for his look after Spock leaves. It's hilarious.

Spock's Log

The temperature firmly established on Christine's present goals (prep for interview/avoid Spock), we now get a glimpse into Spock's mind and life via montage.

He is hanging out with friends, cooking with Pike, and trying not to murder Kirk for crumbs. In short, we're getting a glimpse at status-quo Spock so we can later compare and contrast.

Spock has always enjoyed being around his friends. I think of Spock in his later yeas camping with Kirk and McCoy (my personal favorite classic Trek character). He has always enjoyed being surrounded by people he trusts.

And I posit that's part of why he's so committed to Starfleet. On Vulcan, he is reminded of his father's disappointment in him, the conflict with his older sister (though they resolved it), how Vulcan children bullied him, and how he must perform as a full-blooded Vulcan despite being half-human or face derision and discrimination.

In Short: It's a lot.

But as a member of Starfleet, he spends time with people from many backgrounds, cultures, languages, and creeds. He doesn't have to be the perfect version of anything. In general, his friends take him as he is without asking him to be anyone or anything. He can simply be.

Though there is one notable exception, now. And it's not her fault. It's simply a necessity of reality—Spock feels he can no longer be himself around Christine.

Nearly losing her in 2x01 when his emotions were still quite raw and exposed was devastating. He literally wept over her lifeless body and had to endure the agony of potentially ordering her death.

Spock is trying to fit himself back in the Vulcan box because he's worried about what he'll say or do around her. He wants to be true to his fiancée and everything he's promised her. He knows to do this, he must suppress everything he feels for Christine.

But this isn't like a fresh herb he's never smelled (see next scene) and can't miss through his suppression. He knows what it is to kiss her, to taste her, to hold her, to want her, to mourn her, to save her, to hold vigil over her.

In short: He's so screwed.

"I am afraid my nasal suppressants inhibit my perception of scent."

Forgive the fangirl flail, but my two favorite characters of Enterprise were Trip and T'Pol—apart and together. So, getting a bit of confirmation of the Vulcan's keen scent that we first learned via T'Pol made me kick and squeal a little.

Reminder to Self: Gotta read that fix-it book, at long last, to save Trip from his Enterprise fate.

A Passenger

The whole conversation with Pike reminds me of the last time Spock was having concentration issues—when T'Pring was busy looking up human sex.

I find it fascinating (sorry, Spock) how much T'Pring throws him off. Whether it's his human side or Vulcan side, she tends to spring things on him that send him spiraling.

"I am fine, Captain."

Why call this out? Because "I'm fine" is going to come back later in this episode, and I find it fascinating (again, apologies, Mr. Spock) that it first presents itself here—when Spock is decidedly not fine.

And now he's getting a passenger. Of course, we're gonna cut straight from the line to the person for impact. But, oy, Spock's having a rough day.

He's already distracted with his relationship issues. The last thing he thinks he's going to get is more relationship issues.

A Nice Day for a Shuttle Ride

Christine ides alongside Spock, both of them facing forward. But Spock can't help but catch a glimpse of her.

This isn't a short ride in the turbolift. This is an entire mission together, in an enclosed space, with nowhere to escape.

He tries to approach her as a Vulcan—with tact.

"It is good to see you, Nurse Chapel."

Ah, now he's going to try to be "normal" because they're in a forced professional situation, and not talking at all would be ridiculous considering they have to work together.

"We did see each other in the turbolift the other day. You seemed busy."

This is such a passive aggressive line from Christine. The dude literally stared at the doors the entire time. But, it's also an "out" that she's offering him.

She doesn't want to talk about this anymore than he does.

But a small part of her wants to know if she's imagining it. She doesn't think so (M'Benga's reaction is confirmation enough), but she wants to hear it from him.

"I have many duties. If I offended you, I apologize."

He speaks without emotion, without emphasis, straight facts. But it's still hurtful. And he knows it.

Watch how he closes his eyes, admonishing himself. Do better. He tries to talk to her, really talk to her, like he would before he realized he was falling for her.

"You are here for the fellowship you are applying to? Archeological medicine?"

Note how his cadence and timbre have changed. This is how he normally talks to her—honest and open. It's how he wants to talk to her, but he's afraid of what will come out of his mouth if he opens it to speak.

Remember, Vulcan emotions are reportedly stronger than human emotions. And he's removed some of his control when he fought the Gorn. So, while he is making progress on regaining control, he's still terrified of what emotions Christine Chapel might unleash.

But he's choosing to talk about work. That's safe.

"You know, the Vulcan Science Academy would be lucky to have someone of your experience."

I love the use of "You know". It's so... conversational. It's true Spock slipping through. And this is a true sentiment. He means it.

"Thanks. It's, um, it's nice of you to say."

Ah, yes. This is nice, right? Just two coworkers talking about coworkery things. No reason to get emotional, right?

But Christine's struggling with this whole thing, and it's hard for her to believe what he's saying. Is he saying it as a nicety? Does he believe it?

There's too much weirdness between them right now, and she feels pushed to clear the air.

"Spock? I don't usually read into this sort of thing much, but, uh, it's felt like you've been avoiding me." "Has it?"

Welp, the plan to keep it professional backfired. Because while Christine doesn't want to have this conversation, she can feel the shift in their dynamic. And she doesn't like it.

She had put them into a happy little box of Friendship, and until they started making out on the Bridge of the Enterprise, they were doing a pretty good job of staying thee. Even later in the season, they seemed to have regained their footing.

But Hemmer's death set off a tidal wave of emotions in Spock that are still churning under the surface. Christine isn't blind to that, but I don't think she understands how much this Vulcan man feels for her.

He almost started a war for you, honey. You gotta mean something to him, right?

Spock's fortunately saved by the scanner, but even then, it takes a second for him to switch back into work-mode.

"I should... initiate scans."

Christine acknowledges the shift, no longer pressing for answers. But, did you see the way she checked him out when he stopped close to him? I mean... hubba, hubba. Christine's jonesin' for her coworker.

And, look, I am not a supporter of adultery. I applaud how Spock has tried to keep his distance while Christine has tried to keep him in the friend box. Neither of them want to do something they'll regret.

But this tension's reaching a tipping point, pushed over that edge by two major events in this episode that overlap and intersect.

The tension in the room shifts from, "Wow, I want him/her and shouldn't" to "holy shit, we're gonna die" in a matter of seconds.

The first time watching it, I noticed how Spock reached for a dial at the last second. My first thought was, "Oh, that was an intentional movement, there, but I bet we'll never know what it was for."

Folks, I was so excited to be wrong.

We'll get into what Spock was doing in that moment, but I love that the last thing he heard was Christine saying his name.

There's an intimacy to how Jess Bush says it—putting so much emotion into a single syllable. What do you say when you're about to die next to the one person you wish you could tell everything, but can't?

Do you break that invisible barrier of civility to tell him how you feel? Do you lament you didn't have time to sort it out? What can you say?

Genetic Manipulation Steals Spock's Eyeliner

He does have it in other shots as a human, but for this closeup, it's very jarring to go from Spockliner to none. All part of the illusion, folks!

"I feel... strange."

I love that the first words out of his mouth as a human are, "I feel." We talk so much about Vulcan emotions and Vulcan feelings, and he knows from the first moment that something is off.

"What happened to me?" "We don't exactly know."

It's almost a question on "know" that is so much fun. Jess Bush really has some incredible deliveries as Christine, and I adore it. There's such a dynamism to her deliveries.

I love that one of the first details is Spock investigating his hands. Why? Vulcans are touch-telepaths. No doubt, his hands feel strange without that ability coursing through them, even if he's touching nothing.

"Remediation was made. The beings now match."

This. Says. So. Much. Because so often in the history of this blighted country, we've seen racism tell people they can't be together unless they're the same. Heck, I've seen it in faith, too.

And these beings have the idea that making them match is the right thing to do. But they miss that having differences is part of the joy of connection.

Yes, you can be from the same country/speak the same language/worship the same way and have a beautiful relationship. But that isn't required.

Sameness does not equal compatibility or value. As Star Trek says, Infinite Diversity in Infinite Combinations.

"Nurse Chapel is already working around the clock to find a way to reverse your genetic alteration."

Because she's the expert. Hell, yeah, that's my girl!

Now, we can play the "Christine's falling in love with Spock and that's why she's killing herself over this" all day. But the truth is that if this had happened to any member of the crew, Christine would be the one dealing with it because she's the expert.

It's simply juicier because she was the one with Spock when it happened, and she happens to be falling for him.

"Emotions must be new to you." "Vulcans have emotions. We learn to suppress them. These human feelings are different. They're intense and they never stop." "What you're going through, it sounds a lot like being a human teenager."

I love this whole explanation of what's happening with Spock. He hasn't changed who he is. We've watched him going through the exact same montage as before, but this time his control is gone—because human emotions work differently from Vulcan.

Through the Vulcan experience, he could suppress his emotions and box them up. Human emotions work differently. He lacks the chemicals in his brain to behave as he did before.

Remember, Vulcans are wired differently than humans, and while genetically Spock descends from one human and one Vulcan, dominant genes are at play.

For example, of my three children, only one looks like me with olive skin, dark brown eyes, and dark hair. My other two children take after my husband with strawberry and sandy blonde hair, pale skin that easily burns, and one even has hazel eyes!

Same parents. But different amounts of each of us and our genetics.

Spock's anatomy presents primarily as Vulcan, which would apply to the chemicals in his brain, as well. He's lacking those chemicals that retrained his brain to deal with emotion in a controlled and suppressed manor.

He is still the same person at his heart, but it's as though he were born entirely human in his genetics. Problem is, he didn't grow into them. They were thrown upon him as a grown man who was used to entirely different genetics.

It's not odd, to me, that while his core principles remain unaltered, how he approaches them is partially informed by the tools he has and/or lacks with an entirely human anatomy.

"Have you been here all night?"

Of course, Christine would do this for any member of the crew. But the pain she feels is amplified by her belief in her responsibility, and the fact that it's someone she cares about, deeply.

"If I hadn't been there, then maybe they wouldn't have done what they did to Spock."

Oh, there are so many layers to this. The obvious take is that she feels guilty that the aliens modified Spock's genetic code. But I think there could be another layer.

Because Christine was not initially on that mission with Spock. When La'an called her out on not talking to a Vulcan about the whole thing, I think she decided to prove that she could handle it, and requested to be added to the mission.

What if her ulterior motive for joining the mission was to prove to herself that they could be okay? That she could be okay around him? That it was all in her head that he was avoiding her, and that there really is nothing between them?

Because, that's what she wants. She wants for there to be nothing between them. She's tried to will it into being.

And what if her desire to prove they were nothing but platonic coworkers was what brought such pain to the person she truly cares for? What if it's her own hubris that brought this on?

Of course, we all know that M'Benga is right when he says that her presence might have been what preserved Spock's life at all. With "mixed instructions", who knows what the aliens might've done without Chapel's example.

And yet another example of just how biased our own medical system can be in this country. Did you know we are just now seeing medical diagrams and training materials that take different levels of melanin into consideration for bruising, bleeds, and reactions?

Sorry, back to the story—Christine's hurting.

"Survivor's guilt is easy to spot from the outside. But it's not fun from the inside."

I love their relationship. These two are deep friend who truly understand one another.

"Are you forgetting something important?"

Oh, shit! The interview!

"What? We're done?" "I have all I need. We will contact you."

I feel like all the other Vulcans in this episode are a reminder of why Spock is different, and special, and why we love him so much. It's not that he's a half-Vulcan. As Angel would say, that's not what this is really about. It's because of who he is.

No matter what version of himself he is, he cares about his friends. He loves his work, and he pours himself into it. He tries to do what is right, even if he sometimes gets it wrong. He's loyal, and patient, and kind.

Now, human Spock doesn't have impulse control, as we've seen. But if he were trapped in this state forever, I'd like to think that's something he could learn.

"Christine?"

First off, woah. Spock avoids saying her first name because of how intimate that is... and I have a theory...

See, Vulcan emotions are reportedly stronger than human, right? We saw what happened when Spock tried to let a little anger out with the Gorn... he went postal. He couldn't regain control. It was a flood that he couldn't stop.

What if he's kept such a tight rein on those emotions as of late because he's afraid of the flood to follow?

Spock's humanity is offering him the opportunity to talk to her, to engage with her, to be in the same space with her without losing all control.

His human emotions are a bit out of sorts, yes, but he can work in spurts and starts with them. Once a Vulcan emotion is unleashed, it won't easily be bottled up.

"I'm fine. I'll be fine."

She starts to say the canned line we're taught to say whenever someone asks how we are, "I'm fine." I hate "I'm fine."

Unless you're talking about how you look in your favorite outfit, when you say, "I'm fine" I wonder if you're telling the truth or bowing to society's standards.

"Vulcans can be such jerks."

The iron of that statement. Christine smiles at him, because she really needed that laugh. But it's also so strange a statement as she's working to restore his Vulcanness.

Insert Awkward Hug

In the history of awkward hugs, that might be one of the most cringe between two characters I actually adore together. He enters into it with the best of intentions, but once he's there, it's really awkward for both of them.

While Christine loves being near Spock, it doesn't feel right. It doesn't feel like him.

"It felt like you needed that. Did I read the moment wrong?"

This moment really struck me, but for very personal reasons. See, I have an Autistic son, and hugging is one of those things that, God bless him, is a big part of him.

He likes to go up to strangers and hug them. And while they all smile because he's a super cute 8-year-old, someday he'll be an adult and they might not think it's as cute. So, we work on asking permission and understanding situations.

I know sometimes people liken Spock to being Autistic-coded, and while I don't know if that's true, this moment really struck me.

"It was really nice. It wasn't typical for you." "Is that okay?"

As M'Benga would say, there's technically nothing wrong with it. But it's not him.

"I'm fine. I'll be fine."

He's echoing back her words to her, but it also feels like growth. At the top of the episode, he declared, "I'm fine" when he wasn't. This response is far more honest and realistic.

Also, my mind drifted back to my first Human/Vulcan lovers, Trip and T'Pol. Their mutual confession of feelings scene is one of the funniest, sexiest, and most beautifully written/performed scenes in Star Trek, to me.

It's Season 3, for anyone who wants to relive it, but I'd do so before Paramount+ removes it like they did Season 4.

Spock's Elle Woods LSAT Montage

Echoes of Christine and Spock.... and how the team all rally around him, now, to help.

"We better hope Dr. M'Benga and Nurse Chapel come up with a cure before the mind meld"

Fascinating that he's going professional on her name with his mother, and I think that makes sense in the moment.

Despite what Spock may feel for Christine, even in his human state he's trying to stay true to T'Pring and his Vulcan obligations related to their engagement. That's important.

Because Spock is still Spock. He's altered, but not gone.

"Yes, I'm way ahead of you."

I love this. We need the reminder of the Chapel we met on Day One, "I know I'm good at what I do". This is where she excels... and she can't make it work. And now she's on a time-clock of her own.

Also, I love how she and M'Benga talk as equals, here. There's no ego in what they're saying. He's trying to offer solutions, but she's already way ahead of him—because this is her speciality.

She respects his, and backs him up, and serves as an amazing assistant when needed. But right now he is the assistant, even though he carries the "Doctor" designation and she the "Nurse".

Let me tell you, I've often experienced Nurse Practitioners who were better in their field than Doctors. This is a nice reminder of that reality while also showing how it can work in a practical situation without bias. Ah, the utopian vision of this era of Star Trek's timeline.

Christine Interrupts Dinner

Look, these two just got their meals, and in comes their sweet-but-oblivious-to-her-feelings friend begging them to go on a mission with her to save her not-boyfriend.

And it makes sense that now that Spock is beyond the help of (most of) his friends the team swivels to helping Christine, again. This is their episode, after all.

"Look, I can't ask either of you to risk your lives for this. But if there's a chance to save Spock, I have to try."

She's willing to risk her life for him. Golly, they are so similar. Because she's in a shuttle craft on her way to the anomaly where he once chose to risk his life for her... but she doesn't know that, yet.

"He didn't choose to be live this."

I remember when I was guessing at what would happen in this episode that I really thought his choice was going to have more to do with it. I guess the writers thought it obvious that he wouldn't want to continue being human.

Yes, we've seen that being human is impacting his life in negative ways, but it could also impact it positively. That's the dichotomy of life in all its facets—it's beautiful and terrible.

"So, we're doing this?" *Uhura touches her shoulder* "We're doing this."

I really think those two bonded when Christine held Uhura after Hemmer sacrificed himself. But I also love this moment of Christine feeling the warmth of sacrificial friendship. She's growing closer to everyone with this civilian post.

We know that in childhood Christine didn't have a lot of friends. She was bullied. She was different, somehow. It's one of those points where she and Spock always related.

Christine also tends to rely upon herself rather than others. Trusting others means letting them in. Letting them in means opening herself up to potential pain.

But as she goes on this mission to help one friend, she's in the company of two others. And you see the moment their friendship washes over her and she relaxes into it.

"This is not going well. How is the cure coming?" "We've hit a roadblock. Nurse Chapel went to find the Kherkovians" "She what? And you just let her go?" "You and I both know that when Christine sets her mind to something, she is hard to stop."

I love the transition from professional to conversational, here. M'Benga is one of the few people—if not the only—privy to the fact that Christine's feelings aren't unrequited.

Yes, Christine's girlfriends have clearly picked up on how she feels about Spock. But even Christine is unsure about how he feels.

But that last line is so bloody powerful. Christine can be a bit like a bulldozer when she's locked onto something. What happens when she locks onto Spock? What happens if she locks onto something else and leaves him behind?

"What is your relationship to this being?" "Um... He's my friend." "Friends are not allowed complaints outside of the response period." "What? Why not?" "Because they do not have sufficient connection to the being in question."

Holy shit, they made HIPAA a character on Star Trek.

Think about it. My best friend can't go into the doctor's office and make decisions about my medical care if I'm unable to speak for myself. But my husband could.

Blue and Yellow might as well be documents you fill out when you show up in the waiting room. They're contractual, factual, literal, benevolent beings.

"You are each other's caregivers?" "No. Well, sort of." "This would answer a question we had. During the crash, the other being diverted shields away from himself to protect you." "He what?"

She finds out that he was willing to die to protect her. This is a huge shift for her. She had a malamute sticking up for her as a kid. A malamute, people! But now there's a man literally willing to die for her.

And he couldn't bear the thought of her dying, again. Rather than watch her die, he chose to increase her likelihood of survival, thus minimizing his.

When she was searching for last words, he was soaking in that last look at her knowing it might be the last thing he saw.

"What is your relationship to this being?" "I don't know." "Oh my God, Christine, come on!" "Seriously. You do know. Tell them." "Tell them what? I don't know what to say." "Tell them you like Spock, that you have feelings for him." "Are you so obtuse that you don't even see that?"

This is the line that broke me. Because Ortegas knows her. Erica has been through a lot with Christine, and knows how she handles relationships—poorly.

Also, Erica has a tendency to notice things before Christine—like the fact that Dever was going to become a problem for Christine's sensibilities.

So, I love that while Uhura is just as fed up with Christine's inability to put it into words (my husband beside me said, "It's now or never") with Spock's genetics on the line, it's Ortegas whose words strike me hardest.

Because Erica knows that Christine's not trying to be difficult. She's been hurt, before. She's afraid of relationships and love. She's tried so hard to follow her rules of dating. And with all that programming, it's difficult for her to realize what she's feeling.

"It's complicated." "Then make it simple. Because if you don't, he'll never be like how he was again."

Damnit. The future rests on Christine facing her feelings head-on. She soaks in Uhura's words, knowing they're true. If she can't convince the aliens that they have true connection, then she can't save Spock.

That means she has to tap into what she really feels. She has to acknowledge it. She has to allow herself to feel it.

But she can't do that with everybody watching.

She motions for Uhura and Ortegas to turn around, which they do with much eye-rolling. As much as Spock's dealing with the emotional maturity of a teenager, Christine's just as stunted, in some ways.

"Spock is..."

The emotions strike her before she can get out more than two words. Because, there's what he is... what he isn't... and what she wishes he could be in her life.

"He's my friend. And, maybe, sometimes, I wish that we had... more... connection."

She's reaching for the words the aliens use, trying to keep this controlled.

"But when you healed him, you changed him. You made him, um, easier to talk to. Someone who probably, um, understands my feelings a little better."

There it is. Her feelings. She's finally acknowledging her feelings. But in this heartbreaking realization of her feelings, she's admitting that Spock in his full self may never understand her feelings.

Restoring him to his former self means stripping his current understanding away. But it's the right thing to do. It's the right thing to restore Spock so he can live the life he was meant to—even if that means Chapel helps him complete his Engagement Dinner to another woman.

A tear slips out of Christine's right eye, and she wipes it away. And while I know these things are random, I can't help but smile to realize it's the same eye that Christine's tear fell from in TOS when Spock wiped it away.

"But, um it's not him. At least, it's not all of him because you took away the other part. A part I was connected to. And I miss him... as he was."

Connection. In the history of Starfleet and all our many stories within that world, connection is always emphasized. It doesn't have to be romantic. In Christine's case, she feels it never will be between her and Spock, no matter how she feels.

But they are still connected. Just as she's connected to everyone in her inner circle. As he is to his. They have found community and connection with one another.

And Christine was able to bring her thoughts back around to save Spock. Because their connection—no matter how deep or shallow it will become—will always be there.

"Mr. Spock. I have your vitamins."

Spock's, of course, grateful. Christine is alive and she beat the clock (barely... thanks, Pike, for the charades!). As he joins Christine in the bathroom, T'Pring watches them thoughtfully. She's had suspicions that something was going on, but I think this is when she's almost sure.

Not that she thinks these two are going to hook up in the bathroom, or anything, but that she's on the outside, yet again, with her own fiancé.

"Uh, the Vulcan genome should start coming back immediately, and physical changes may take a couple hours."

We know that Christine can rearrange and manipulate genetics temporarily, but Spock's body is about to go through a massive change. His arteries and internal organs are going to shift. His ears are going to grow back to their normal state. His blood's gonna shift from red to green.

I'm gonna take a wild guess that those Kherkovians put some heavy painkillers in that cocktail Christine's about to shove in his neck.

"I'm glad to see you're okay. I was worried about you."

This is completely consistent with character, except that he would not have vocalized it before. We know Spock worries about her. We know that he's relieved when she's okay. We've seen it.

"Why did you do it? On the shuttle, you moved the shields to save my life." "I... it was the logical choice. As a Vulcan, I had a higher likelihood of survival." "Just logical, huh?"

She normally wouldn't call him out like this, especially when she should be rushing to give him these meds so he can get into that Mindmeld. But she's raw, and she's hurting, and she's confused.

Her nerves are exposed and a part of her needs to understand if she's reading too much into the situation.

"Christine, I feel many things. It's confusing." "Yeah, I know. For me, too."

Welp, they're both confused. There's something.

They both look down, and I'm grasping for what motivated it. I'm guessing he took her hand, but we're in a shoulders-up shot, so we can't actually see what's happening.

I'm going to go with him taking her hand. It makes the most sense. And it's fucking bold of Spock.

"I have to tell you-"

Christine shuts him up with the hypospray. Because, if you're going to hear a love confession from someone you care about, you want it to be when they have all their faculties. If they're under the influence or inhibited somehow by something outside their control, it's hard to know what they really think and feel.

So, Christine stops him. But, from Spock's perspective, it feels almost like rejection.

"Get back out there. You have people waiting."

But he's frozen in place. Vulcan emotions are rushing back in, and they have to be compartmentalized and suppressed because he feels the pain of that rejection.

Christine walks out, instead, but she's hurting just as badly as he is. Because even if he said all the things she wanted to hear, it wouldn't have been him. She might have lost her only chance at hearing what she wants, but it was the right thing to do.

Spock Decides to Talk with Christine

I have to call this out because of where we last left these two—heartbroken. Spock was opening up to Christine about how he felt when she stuck a hypospray in his neck to shut him up.

She did it because she felt she had to—to restore Spock, that meant restoring him to the "honest man" who wouldn't pursue her while he had a "girlfriend".

For Spock, he had to endure that moment of all his suppressive abilities sliding back into place while simultaneously recognizing Christine pushing him away.

And yet, here he is, making the decision to go to her.

Now, let's be clear that this would not have happened if T'Pring had not said she wanted time apart. Spock has done everything that he can to stay away from Christine, to avoid what he feels for her, to suppress what he feels.

In a strange twist, T'Pring's actions have created a scenario similar to the one he just experienced—freedom from expectation.

Now, I've seen the "we were on a break" arguments, and I think it's up to Spock and T'Pring to define what that means for them. I can only hope there's Vulcan precedent to help guide them on what is (and isn't) acceptable during their time apart.

Because I hate cheating.

I've had friends who were cheated on, and it was the bloody worst. I don't like it in media. So, I'm hoping my assumptions are correct in that this is accepted within the constructs of Spock and T'Pring's separation.

Spock has been stewing on the events of the day and his mother's last words to him. Despite Christine pushing him away earlier, he makes the decision to seek her out. He needs to talk to her.

"I'm here."

The way she says this is so adorable. There's such optimism and openness in it before her more cynical nature kicks in to shut it down.

And why is she here? She's the one who walked away from him, before, but I like to think her own emotions and feelings are swirling inside to the point she can't think.

As she finally had to be honest about it with herself, she's sought out Spock to be honest with him. She doesn't expect anything from him.

But Erica once told Christine that she should spend her next relationship being more honest from the start. So, she's going to be honest.

"What were you coming to see me about?"

Spock wordlessly steps into his quarters, inviting her in. As he stops, he turns sharply over his left shoulder to face her.

In the hallway after Hemmer's wake, he turned over that shoulder, away from her. In Sickbay as she slumbered he turned over that shoulder, away from her. But today, he turned over that shoulder to face her.

He's no longer avoiding her, and his body language tells us before his words.

"That T'Pring and I decided to take some time apart." "And how do you feel about that?"

Christine, the queen that you are. This reminds me of their conversation at dinner, of their chat in the hallway, of every time she makes space for him and how he's feeling.

She doesn't make any assumptions about what he's saying. She leaves space for him to speak, even though we can see her initial reaction was elation.

She tamps that down to be sure she's reading the room correctly, and give Spock the opportunity to correct her initial assumption, if needed.

"I feel badly."

Christine nods, ready to be in friend-mode.

"But also, it was necessary. I am conflicted because I have feelings for someone else."

He said it. He fucking said it.

"A Vulcan with feelings?"

Classic Christine to deflect. But it's also a flirt. You can hear the smile in her voice as she says it, because she knows he has feelings.

She's the one who's talked to him about his emotions, wiped the bloody tear from his cheek. She knows that Spock has emotions, but it's so her to deflect a little in this moment.

Nearly losing her forced him to confront his feelings in 2x01. In 2x05, Christine faced losing Spock, and it similarly forced her to face what she'd been avoiding.

But she didn't imagine he'd feel the same way.

"We do have them. They are more powerful than human feelings which is why we suppress them."

Translation: My feelings for you are so strong, I had to suppress them.

He's explaining why he's been MIA. Suppressing this emotion has meant avoiding the cause of it. This isn't a messy table he can clean up and forget.

Yes, I've talked about love being messy before. And I have a feeling this is about to get very messy. But I hope it'll be fun along the way.

"I don't want to suppress this one any longer. I want to feel this."

The emphasis on want is incredible. And he's telling her without doubt that he is choosing them in this moment. He's choosing to embrace whatever this is, without allowing logic to dictate it.

Christine watches him, and this time it's words failing her. Her lower lip is trembling as she listens to him. It's too good to be true.

And I swear there's a smile in Ethan Peck's eyes when he says that last bit.

Christine's lack of response isn't because she doesn't share his emotions. We know that she does. But I posit she's told herself so much this was never going to happen that even as it's happening, she's struggling to believe it.

It reminds me of my response to my husband when he proposed. I literally said, "Are you kidding?"

Folks, he planned a four-hour scavenger hunt through multiple cities, calling friends in England and California, finding hidden notes, all to end in a black box theater he rented with a bloody light plot, dozen roses, and a poem he read to me.

After all of that, I was still convinced it would never happen. So, as he knelt before me, I fumbled to believe... even then.

"What did you come here f-"

His voice drops to a whisper. So intimate. So afraid to hope that she's there because she feels the same way. He got a hint of that when she gave him the hypospray, but it's not the same as confirmation.

Christine launches herself at him. Her hands grab his face, drawing him to her, but he already sees her coming. His eyes close before her lips meet his. Christine's take a little more time to close, and I like to think she was watching to see if he was into this.

Christine, honey. He's so into this.

As they kiss, the camera swoops around them, and I mourn the tightness of the shot. I've never been a fan of tight shots for kisses, to be fair. This is purely personal preference. I want to see the hands.

I have two communications degrees, and as an ambivert who was quite introverted in grade school, I spent a lot of time observing people.

I feel like the lack of hands takes away from how I can rate Spock's true engagement in this snog-fest... which might be the strangest sentences I've ever written in a Meta.

For any Rose/The Doctor fans, you must remember the clone they made of him and how they kissed, right? That kiss looked emotionless and cold filmed as a head-shot to me. I never believed Rose was into it.

But the behind-the-scenes where we could see the hands!? Hubba, hubba!

I really wanted to see Spock's hands to better gauge his interest and response. Especially after reading an interview with Ethan Peck about how he had to determine if Spock kisses a human differently than a Vulcan. I wanna see that in action!

Christine drops off tip-toes as the camera settles, and Spock moves with her, his lips still locked on hers. They're already moving as one.

But the part that guts me in the best way is the little kiss after they start to pull away.

Remember their first kiss on the Bridge? Of course, you do. Who could forget that!?

Welp, I didn't notice until long after I wrote my first Spapel Meta that Christine lingers momentarily after they part—as though she wants to go back in for more.

This time, they both have that same instinct. And this time, they actually get it. That little micro-kiss is one of the hottest things in this scene to me.

Why? Because it's a fulfillment of an unspoken want to have such intimacy that you can share something so small and have it mean just as much as the big, sweeping kiss before.

And as they share this moment, Christine's fingers trail down Spock's Vulcan ear. And while I doubt Vulcan ears are as sensitive as Ferengi, I'm sure that felt pretty damn good, too.

Because Christine accepts all of him. She doesn't have to tell him, "I'm okay with you being Vulcan" because it's not a matter of her trying to convince him. It's implied. It's understood. It's apparent via their interactions.

And during this episode, Christine showed it in how she fought for him to regain his Vulcan half—even at her own expense.

Think about it... Christine spends a lot of her time helping Spock with T'Pring. And even though there was a countdown clock to the diminishment of genetic plasticity—Spock's biggest concern was his engagement dinner with his fiancée.

Christine fought to restore him not for her, but for him. Yes, she is attracted to Spock in his fullness of self, but she recognizes that restoring him meant restoring him to the half-Vulcan who has been avoiding her for weeks.

To be here, now, with him is beyond her wildest hopes. She's tasted him once, but this time there is no pretense. This time, their attraction is so much deeper. This time, it's all real and honest and open.

Christine opens her eyes almost immediately, but Spock's remain closed as he revels in the feelings he's experiencing. He's soaking it in. This time, there's no awkwardness. Nobody's watching (besides, well, us).

And the fist time I listened to this moment with headphones on, my heart about stopped. It's. Their. Song. The same theme that played during their first kiss on the bridge is playing as they kiss, now.

Our doomed lovers have their own theme.

Christine looks to Spock with new desire, her hands finally free to touch him, her mind finally free to wander to the places she didn't dare. Girl is ready to go! Look at how she's taking him in, letting her fingers explore his skin.

And Spock's taking the logical role of hoping to define what this means.

"What does this mean?" "I don't know. Shut up."

His eyes close before her lips meet his as she pushes him away from the door and deeper into his quarters.

Spock and Chapel are gonna get some tonight!

And, did I see this coming at the beginning of the season? Honestly, no. I thought they'd sleep together at some point in the run of the show. But definitely didn't call it this early! Especially when we all know it's going to implode/explode/end in tears.

I'd be remiss if I didn't at least address the separate-yet-similar arcs of our two lovers. Both of them are on arcs of understanding themselves better, just in different ways.

Spock has been made fully human. This has always been a part of him, but not something he could even imagine experiencing. He had the opportunity to see life through human eyes, to feel human emotions, to smell like a human, and to better understand his own mother.

And major props to whichever character decided they should meet in Pike's quarters with Pike present so the smell of humans might be explainable, even with Vulcan suppressants helping.

But in his journey to navigate life as a human, he started to see his mother's journey. He saw all the pain she suppressed over the years to give him a life of joy. And I'm not saying that we, as mothers, should have to suffer for our children. But I know all good parents often make decisions that are to the betterment of our Little ones, even at our own expense.

Spock finally understood the sacrifices she made. It reframed his own quest to be "Vulcan enough". His mother was never Vulcan. Could never be Vulcan. And yet, so much of what is good in him came from her.

I think that's part of what gave him the emotional freedom to declare himself to Christine in that final scene—freeing himself from the expectations of others. He realized he could thrive without compromising who he is. It's something Angel—for all their flaws—was trying to teach him.

And being released from his obligation to T'Pring by T'Pring freed him up to go after Christine. Again, I'm really hopeful that in the framework of Vulcan culture this is not cheating. I don't like cheating. But, I do like Christine and Spock.

Christine's arc is similarly about defining herself. Somewhere in the mess of the past year, she's lost a bit of her trademark confidence. And I think the problem of trying to solve Spock's genome issues was especially disheartening.

If you're the expert who can't expertly do the one thing in which you're supposed to excel, how much of an expert are you?

The initial rejection of the fellowship deals yet another blow to her psyche on a bad day. But after embracing who she is—a badass scientist, a loyal friend, an innovator, and even a woman capable of romantic love—she enters her second interview more confident in herself.

And I want to be clear that loving Spock doesn't make her who she is. But it's a part of her. It's a part of her she was denying and avoiding.

By releasing the burden she'd been carrying, she freed herself up to so many other things, including regaining her confidence in he prowess in her field. She's a badass. And now she's remembered that.

When they come together in that final scene, they've both been on journeys of self-discovery in their own ways.

Christine remembered that she was born to stand out in the best way, that she is capable and strong, but that she can also be vulnerable.

Spock learned what it is to be truly human, and finally understood the sacrifices his mother made for him.

And they were both surrounded by the love of their shipmates. In an episode all about connection, we witnessed so many different kinds: Familial. Friendship. Romantic.

Connection is more than tonsil hockey, despite what some media might say. Connection is when two hearts meet and feel kinship. That is what both Spock and Christine have found on Enterprise—with each other, and with their beautiful friends.

The over-arching theme of Season 2 thus far seems to be, "Who am I?" You can see it in different characters in every episode so far. It's a universal question—one that so many of us ask of ourselves at many points in our lives.

If you've made it this far, thank you for reading! I hope you know that you are beautiful, have intrinsic value, and matter more than you know. May the next morning bring light and love into your life like never before. See you on the next.

[artyandink]

we could be more | dean winchester | 8

Summary: Ivonne Rainer was practically a trained killing machine. Stripped to the bone then built back up by her father in order to become one of the best, like he was. She was forced into hunting when she was nineteen, having developed powers that couldn’t be explained. That is, until she was paid a visit by Azazel’s lackey. Her powers were gone, she needed help, and that’s when she found her father’s journal. Pointing to Sam and Dean Winchester.

SERIES MASTERLIST

THE USUAL SUSPECTS

ᴺᴼᵂ ᴾᴸᴬᵞᴵᴺᴳ : ROLLING IN THE DEEP - ADELE

“Miss Ivonne Rainer.” A dude with black hair and green eyes stepped into the room, holding a case file. He was around my age, well built, and judging by the confidence, high up in the precinct. He was also, now that I mention it, sexy. “You’ve got a very chequered past, by the looks of it.” 

“I’m not playing chess, mate, so just cut to the chase.” I retorted, tapping my watch. “You’ve got 48 hours, so why not tell me your name so we can move things a bit quicker?”

”Detective Sergeant James Rhodes.” He showed me his badge. 

“Where’s the bad cop, eh?”

”With Dean Winchester. Good cop’s with Sam, and the even worse cop is with you.”

”I feel special. Flattered.” I smiled sarcastically. “Why are you holding us?”

”Your buddy Dean is being held on charges for suspicion of murder.” 

I frowned, leaning forward. “Murder?!”

”You sound genuinely surprised. You should’ve gone to acting school.”

”Who could he have murdered?” 

“We’re getting onto that.” He replied, opening a file and giving me a once over with a hint of red on his cheeks. I smirked a little, leaning back in my chair. “Let’s just look through your file first. I’ve got a lot of research on you, Ivonne. You’re 27, born in ‘79 in Jersey to Michael Rainer and Audrey Rainer neé Singer. You went to a good primary, got a score of 174 on your LSATs, an almost perfect score on your SATs and scored a full ride to Princeton on the course of economics while trying to help your younger sister Quinn battle cancer, which ultimately failed.” I gritted my teeth. “But, here’s the catch. One year after your admission, you were forced to drop out due to your father’s untimely death, a murder which was never solved. Do you want me to continue?” 

I stayed silent. 

“Tough crowd. About a month after your father’s death, you were the centre of an open and shut case eight years ago in which your brother Carter descended into insanity and killed your family by sticking knives into their throats, and also killed your mother’s unborn child. However, in defence, you shot him after he tried to do the same to you. You were proven innocent after a CCTV recording placed Carter as the killer of your sister Lily and your mother. You went off the grid, but then conveniently seven or eight years later, you were kidnapped by your boyfriend Xavier Jackson, but you broke free, wrestled for his gun and shot him twice, killing him. Your witness? Sam Winchester.” 

“You done relating my life story?” I scoffed. “I’ll admit it, you’re cute and this macho, intimidation act is as well, but if you’re aiming to take me out to dinner after this, you’re gonna have to take a step back and reassess the situation.” He looked taken aback, and I nodded. “I’ve met people like you before, Serge, and I know exactly how to deal with them.” 

“We’re here to discuss Dean Winchester.”

”And so far all you’ve done is relate something that isn’t important and check me out.” I smirked. “Get on with it, will you?”

”Why I listed every bit of your family history is because one thing doesn’t add up.” He put down the file. “How you ended up with the Winchester brothers. You have no connection to them. Your family had no contact with the Winchesters. So how did you end up with a man who’s charged with assault, murder and grave desecration and his brother?” 

“I found them.” I frowned, pulling out my dad’s journal. “Read about John, Sam and Dean Winchester, knew I had to find ‘em. I had a stalker after me. Not anymore, but Dad’s journal knew that they could help me and they did.”

”What about Tony and Karen Giles?”

”Anthony Giles was a friend of John Winchester.” I explained. “I went with Sam and Dean once they found out that he was dead, throat slit with no trace of any bad things happening in Giles’ life to make him do such a thing.”

“There you go.” Sam gave Dean and I a cup of coffee while Dean handed Sam a paper while I dried my hair with a t-shirt. I was wearing a baggy black cashmere jumper with jeans, my necklace around my neck as usual.

“Anthony Giles.” Dean stated. 

“Who’s Anthony Giles?” I asked, leaning in with my hand on Dean’s shoulder. 

“He’s a Baltimore lawyer. Working late in his office, check it out.” 

I read the paper, raising an eyebrow. “Room was clean, throat was slit… but no DNA or prints.”

”Keep reading. It gets better.” 

“Security cameras failed to capture footage of the assailant.” Sam muttered. 

“So either someone tampered with the tapes, or…” 

“There’s an invisible killer.” 

“My favorite kind. What do you think, Scully? You wanna check it out?” 

“I’m not Scully. You’re Scully.” 

“No, I'm Mulder. You're a red-headed woman.” 

“You two are idiots, more like.” I sighed. “Let me dry my hair, then we’ll head out.” 

“C’mon, Beanie,” Dean laughed, “you look good with wet hair.” 

“Then again, it doesn’t feel great in cold air.” I winked. “Maybe next time.” I rifled through my box of IDs, buying my lip. “Who are we today?” 

“Insurance investigators.” 

“I’ll get my suit from the Mustang.” 

“But, if you think about it, Dean couldn’t have murdered Tony, being at my house, right?” I asked. 

“You’re right.” He nodded. “Tell me what happened next.” 

“We went to see Karen, to help her keep herself together. And boy, she was fallin’ apart.” 

Karen Giles sat on her sofa, sniffling and wiping her nose on a tissue. “Insurance. I totally forgot about the insurance.” She whispered, holding back the fifth wave of tears. 

“We're very sorry to bother you right now, but the company is required to conduct its own investigation. You understand.” Sam pressed on, and she nodded. I forgot to mention, we were insurance investigators. 

“Sure.” 

“So, if you could tell us anything you remember about the night your husband died.” I asked, sitting down next to her. 

“Uh, Tony and I were just supposed to have dinner. He called and said he was having computer troubles and that, that he had to work late. That was it.” Karen recounted, and I nodded. 

“Do you have any idea who could have done this to him?” 

“No, like I told the police, I… I have no idea.”

”Did Tony mention anything, you know, unusual to you? In the days before his death?” Dean asked. 

“Unusual…” 

“Yeah, like… strange?” 

“Strange?” 

“Y’know, like… weird noises, visions-“ I cleared my throat, stopping Dean. 

“He had a nightmare the day before he died.” She whispered, and Carl wrote it down on my flip notebook, and I was loosely holding the pen to give an impression that I was writing and not a magic pen. 

“What kind of a nightmare?” Sam frowned. 

“Uh, he said that he woke up in the middle of the night and there was a woman standing at the foot of the bed, he blinked and she was gone, I mean, it was just a nightmare.” 

“Did he say what she looked like?” Dean asked. 

“What the hell difference does it make of what she looked like?!” 

“Our company’s thorough, Mrs Giles.” I smiled, stepping in to save Dean’s butt. Again. “We’d like to get a detailed description of the days prior to the incident so then we can make a good analysis. As many details as you can spare, if that’s ok.” 

“Yeah.” She nodded, calming down, while Carl wrote down ‘good job’ on the paper. “He said she was pale, and she had dark red eyes.” 

“Thank you for your time.” I gave Karen a side hug, giving her my fake calling card, but had my burner phone number. “Call me if you need anything.” 

“I told Karen to call me if she had any problems and then we set off.” 

“Doesn’t explain why you broke into Anthony Giles’ office.” He persisted.

“Okay, look, Karen called us later, said that there was some stuff that she wanted from Tony's office, but the police weren't letting her in- like, a picture of the two of them in Paris, and some other stuff. She gave us the key. It wasn’t a break in.” 

“Hey. Anthony Giles' body was found right about here.” Sam gestured. 

“Throat slit so deep, part of his spinal cord was showing.” I read out, sitting at the computer. 

Dean whistled. “What do you think? Vengeful spirit? Underlining vengeful?” 

“Yeah, maybe. I mean he did see that woman at the foot of his bed.” Sam shrugged. I found something at the printer, whipping it out. 

“Take a look at this.” I showed it to them. It had the word/thing ‘danashulps’ written all over it. “Dana Shulps.” 

“A name?” 

“A name that’s everywhere.” Dean chuckled. “Well, all work and no play makes Jack a dull boy.” 

Sam checked the desk, shining his torch down. Then he breathed on it, revealing the word Dana Shulps. “Well, I think we’ve crossed over to a whole new level of weird.” 

“Tell me about it.” I typed quickly, trying to crack the password to Giles’ computer.

”Maybe Giles knew her.” Dean suggested. 

“Or it’s the name of our red-eyed mystery girl.” Sam shrugged. We went through available files, I scoured the internet, hacked into police databases, but… 

“Nada.” I grimaced. “No girl name Dana Shulps ever died a horrible death or even existed. The surname Shulps isn’t even a name.” 

“So what now?” Dean groaned. 

“I’m a few clicks away from unlocking Giles’ laptop.” I clicked my tongue. “There could be something in his personal files.” 

“How long?” Sam asked. 

“Fifteen minutes, give or take. Carl, lend a nib.” Carl started helping, while I counted down the seconds until-

There we go.

“Seriously?” Sam sighed.

 Dean’s fart noises.

”Your story checks out.” Rhodes nodded, closing the case. “But fact remains that Dean was found at Karen Giles’ murder scene.”

”Fact remains that Dean Winchester saved my life.” I frowned. “On multiple occasions, won’t specify which, and if that warrants anything, it warrants a hell lot of respect and favours. Come on, Serge. You’re smart, it’s obvious. You’re probably the type of guy to take one look at who you’re dealing with and say whether they’re guilty or not. And you’ve taken a long, hard look at Dean. At me, maybe even Sam. Give me your honest opinion. Do you think any of us are guilty?”

”No.” Rhodes admitted. “Facts don’t add up. Dean wasn’t holding a weapon when they found him. He wasn’t present at the murder of Tony Giles. No prints, no DNA, just him conveniently at the scene. But I’ve got nothing else to work with, unless something else is at play here, and I wouldn’t be surprised if it was because a murder isn’t that clean cut.” 

“What if it was something else?” I shrugged. 

“What are you suggesting?” 

“At the crime scene, we found two words written over and over. Dana Shulps.” I showed him the printed paper. “Help me figure out what this means. If you find Dean guilty after this, go ahead, arrest him, put him on trial and get him in prison with a lifer, but for now, consider the fact that he’s innocent.”  

James sighed, conceding. “Fine, but it has to look like I’m interrogating you.” 

“Not so much of an even worse cop, huh?” 

“I bend to reason. Now, Dana.” I wrote down the name, staring at it. 

“Best thing I’ve got is an anagram.” I shrugged, tapping a pen on the table. 

“Scramble it, then?” We both wrote down the words in different ways, switching things up, thinking, until I got something. 

“Ashland sound familiar?” I asked, and he nodded. 

“Ashland’s a street name.” A woman knocked and walked in, and she looked to be in her late forties. Her badge read ‘D. Ballard.’ 

“Detective Ballard.” Rhodes’ demeanour switched up, turning to Ballard with a smug air. Wow, that was quick. Smoother than butter. “How’re things going with Sam Winchester?” 

“Story matches Dean’s. How about Rainer?” Ballard replied. 

“We’re getting somewhere.” He smirked, glancing back at me. “Miss Rainer and I were having an intense heart to heart, but story still matches the other two’s. Though, I have to say, tough customer. Not sure Pete would be able to keep his cool for long if he had her.” 

“I doubt it too.” She nodded. “Keep at it, we can only hold ‘em for 48 hours.” She left, and Rhodes switched again, turning back to me with an easy smile. 

“How’d I do?” 

“You lie almost as well as I do.” I grinned. “Am I turning a good boy soft?” 

“Cut the bad girl act, Rainer.” Rhodes chuckled. “Yeah, I have to admit, I was checking you out, but I can look through a guise if I see one.” 

“Again, flattered.” 

“You’re a hard case to crack, aren’t you?” 

“I like to give people a challenge.” I wrote on the paper. “Get this to Dean and Sam, any way you can without being spotted. They need to know.” 

He took the paper, standing up. “I hope to God that you’re right, Rainer.” He left, leaving me to contemplate all my life decisions.

”Trust me, I hope so too.” I sighed.

Rhodes came into my room later, looking grim.  “I got you a ticket out, but Dean’s decided to confess. You might wanna come watch.” 

“Confess to what, though?” I asked, picking up my leather jacket and putting it on. 

“That’s what I wanna find out.” We went into the interrogation room, where they were setting up a camera. 

“Beanie.” Dean grinned upon seeing me. “Are you ok?”

”I’m doing fine.” I nodded.

”Your boyfriend decided to confess, sweetheart.” One detective smirked. “Speak directly to the camera, and state your name for the record.” 

Dean faced the camera, a smug smirk on his face. Wait, I know what he’s going to do. “My name is Dean Winchester. I'm an Aquarius.” Here we go. “I enjoy sunsets, long walks on the beach, and frisky women. And I did not kill anyone. But I know who did. Or rather what did. Of course it can't be for sure, because our investigation was interrupted. But our working theory was that we're looking for some kind of vengeful spirit.”

”Excuse me?” Ballard scoffed. 

“You know, Casper the bloodthirsty ghost?” Dean shrugged. “Tony Giles saw it. I'll bet you cash money Karen did too. But see, the interesting thing is the word it leaves behind. For some reason it's trying to tell us something. But communicating across the veil, it ain't easy. You know, sometimes the spirits, they, they get things jumbled. You remember ‘REDRUM’. Same concept. You know, it's, uh, maybe word fragments... other times, it's anagrams. See, at first we thought this was a name, Dana Shulps. But now we think it's a street. Ashland. Whatever's going on, I'll bet you it started there.”

“You arrogant ass.” Detective Sheridan hissed. “Tony and Karen were good people, and you're making jokes.”

”I’m not joking, Ponch.”

”You murdered them in cold blood just like that girl in St. Louis!” 

“Oh, yeah. That wasn't me either. That was a shape-shifter creature that only looked like me.” Sheridan lost his temper, hauling Dean up by his collar and slamming him against the wall. I was going to step in when Rhodes held me back, other officers jumping in to help.

”Pete!” Ballard gasped. 

“That’s ENOUGH!” Rhodes yelled, stopping everyone. “I’ll cuff him myself, just go return to your jobs. Rainer, you stay with me.” Everyone left, leaving Dean, Rhodes and I alone. 

“Well done, you locked me up.” Dean grimaced as he looked down at the cuffs now around his wrists.  “Whatcha gonna do, gloat?”

”Ask you two if this Casper thing is real.” The answer took Dean aback, and he blinked at Rhodes, wondering why. “I talked to Rainer. The facts don’t add up, and a spirit seems most obvious when it comes to a murder with no prints or DNA.” 

“Beanie, you sly fox.” He chuckled.  “She can talk her way out of anything.”

”Long story short, yeah, it is.” I nodded. “Shifter is real too, all of the likes of it are.”

”So, Ashland?”

“Street name.” Rhodes nodded.  “Why this spirit is trying to tell us that, I’m not sure.”

”The girl died there.” Ballard stepped in, and Dean sighed, rolling his eyes and opening his mouth to speak. “Can we make this quick? I'm a little tired, it's been a long day, you know, with your partner assaulting me and all.” 

“I want to know more about the stuff you were talking about earlier.” She gulped. 

“Time Life. Mysteries of the Unknown. Look it up.”

”Let’s pretend for a moment that you aren’t entirely insane.” 

“Mhmm.”

”What would one of these things be doing here?”

”A vengeful spirit? Well, they're created by violent deaths. And then they come back for a reason, usually a nasty one. Like revenge on the people that hurt 'em.” 

I noticed something on Rhodes’ wrist, and I took out, pushing up his sleeve. 

“Where did you get these?” I asked.

”These weren’t there before.” He gulped, looking freaked. Ballard pulled up her sleeve too, showing the bruises. 

“You two saw it, didn’t you?” Dean frowned. 

“How did you know?” Ballard gasped. 

“Because Karen had the same bruises on her wrists. And I'm willing to bet that if you look at Giles' autopsy photos he's got 'em too, it's got something to do with this spirit, I... I don't know what.” He paused, staring at Ballard’s stunned expression as she turned away. “I know. You think you're going crazy. But let's skip that part, shall we? Because the last two people who saw this thing? Died, pretty soon after. You hear me?” 

“You think we’re going to die.” Rhodes breathed. 

“You need to find Sam.” Dean urged. “He can help, and so can Ivonne.”

”You’re giving up your brother.” Ballard stammered. 

“Go with Beanie. She’ll find Sam and they can help figure this out. You can arrest him if you want, or you can let him help you.” 

“Lead the way, Rainer.” Rhodes agreed, and I immediately walked out of the door, both of them following.

I knocked on Sam’s door at the motel. “Jim Rockford? It’s Tabitha from room service.” Sam opened it immediately, spotting the two behind us. “They saw it. This is James Rhodes and you know Detective Ballard.”

”Get in.” We all got inside, and Sam hugged me before turning to the other two, holding their wrists. “These showed up after you saw it?” 

“Yeah.” Rhodes nodded. 

“You know, I must be losing my mind. You're a fugitive. I should be arresting you.” Ballard shakily told us, but we shared a look. 

“Fine. Arrest Sam, then.” I shrugged. “After we save your life. For now, just trust us to do this, ok?” 

“She’s right, Diana.” Rhodes vouched, and she conceded. I gave him a thankful smile, pulling out Sam’s folder of crime scene photos and booking photos. 

“Okay, great. Now, this spirit. What did it look like?” 

“She was, um, really pale, and her throat was cut, and her eyes, they were like, this deep dark red? It appeared like she was trying to talk to me. But she couldn't. It was just... a lot of blood.” Diana stammered. 

“Alright.” I showed them the photos. “I’m gonna flick through these one by one, and you’re gonna tell me if you recognise her.” I went through the photos one by one, and then Rhodes cleared his throat when I stopped at one. 

“That’s her.” He nodded. 

“Yeah.” Diana agreed. 

“Claire Becker? Twenty eight years old, disappeared about eight or nine months ago.” Sam frowned. 

“But we don't even know her. I mean, why would she come after us?” 

“Well, before her death, she was arrested twice. For dealing heroin. You ever work narcotics?” 

“Pete, Diana and I did.” Rhodes gulped. 

“Did you bust her? Any of you?” I asked. 

“I did, but I got her a shorter sentence than she was going to get.”

“It says that she was last seen entering 2911 Ashland Street. Police searched the place, didn't find anything. Guess we gotta check it out ourselves. See if we can find her body.” 

“What?” Diana coughed.

“Well, we gotta salt and burn her bones. It's the only way to put her spirit to rest.” Sam explained.

”Of course it is.” 

“You guys go and have a glass of water. Keep an eye on each other. Ivy and I need to talk.” The other two went into the room behind us so Sam and I could have a chat.  

“Rhodes seems to be taking it well.” I smiled. “Ballard, not so much.” 

“I think Rhodes is taking it well cause of you.” Sam smirked, and laughed when I raised an eyebrow. “Don’t think I don’t see the sparks. Dean would’ve already commented on it.” 

“He’s a man of the law.” I sighed. “I have more fake IDs than I’ve had birthdays.” 

“Maybe that’s the danger of it. Forbidden love-“ I slapped him across the head with a piece of paper. “Ow, okay, okay!” 

“You better not mention to this to Dean.” 

“I think he knows.”

We walked into an abandoned warehouse, my gun drawn just in case. 

“A firearm?” Rhodes scoffed.

“It’s licensed, so untwist your boxers.” I smirked. 

“So what exactly are we looking for?” 

“We’ll let you know once we find it.” Sam informed, then we split up, searching for a possible place to hide a body. I scaled the wall, knocking on it to try and find a bit of hollow wall that I could bust open-

“Sam!” I heard Diana yell, sounding scared. “Sam! James! IVONNE!” All three of us came running back, and we found Diana alone. 

“What happened?” I asked. “Did you see Claire?” 

“She, she was here.” 

“Did she attack you?” Sam questioned, looking around. 

“No, she was just… reaching out to me. She was over there by the window.“ There was a shelf blocking the window, so Sam and Rhodes got to work and moved it, revealing the word ‘ASHLAND SUP’. 

“I’m guessing the SUP started the word supplies.” I grinned, then followed the reflection to a wall on the other side. “Sam, did you bring the sledgehammer?” Sam held it up, so I took it and started cracking a hole the wall. I peered in, and nodded. “Yep. There’s something here.” Sam joined me and helped me tear the rest of the wall open, revealing Claire Becker’s body.

“God.” Rhodes breathed. 

“Something about this is bothering me.” Sam frowned. 

“You’re digging up a corpse.” Diana pointed out. 

“Digging them up is pretty par for the course. But why would a vengeful spirit lead us to her corpse?” We bent down to take a look, and Diana reached out, touching the necklace. 

“Does it mean something to you?” I asked. 

“That necklace. It’s rare, custom made on Carson Street.” She pulled out the same one from her neckline. “I have one just like it. Pete gave it to me.” 

“Now this all makes perfect sense.” Sam nodded, piecing it all together. 

“What does?” Rhodes frowned. “Apart from Pete killing Claire.” 

“Claire’s not a vengeful spirit, she’s a death omen.” I explained. “She’s not killing people, she’s warning them that they’ll die by the same hand she did. You see, sometimes spirits, they don't want vengeance, they want justice. Which is why she led us here in the first place. She wants us to know who her killer is.“ 

“Detective, how much do you know about your partner?” Sam asked. 

“Oh my god.” Diana gasped. 

“What?” 

“About a year ago, some heroin went missing from lockup. Obviously it was a cop. We never found out who did it. But whoever did it would need someone to fence their product.” 

“Someone like a heroin dealer. Someone like Claire.” 

“I’m going to make a phone call, find out where Dean is.” Rhodes stood up, pulling out his phone and walking to another corner. “If we’re right, he could be next.” 

“Did you bring the Mustang?” Sam asked me, and I held up my keys. 

“Yeah.” I nodded, then turned to Claire’s body. “We’ll catch him.” 

Rhodes came back, looking freaked again. “Pete just left with Dean. Said he had to be transferred and just took off. He’s not answering the radio, either.” 

“We need to cut him off.” I grimaced, cocking my gun. “He’s in a county vehicle, so we need to access the lo-jack and find the route. Let’s go!”

I was driving with my pedal to the metal, with Diana and Sam in the back and Rhodes at the front with me. 

“Tell me.” Rhodes turned to me with a smile. “How does a girl like you end up in a job like yours?” 

“What do you mean, a girl like me?” I chuckled, raising an eyebrow. 

“You’re smart, quick on your feet, obviously good with a gun. You got almost perfect scores on your LSAT and SAT, got into Princeton, practically a shoo in almost anywhere. You could’ve been great on the force, instead you’re hunting the impossible.” 

“Hunting the impossible seems like a better option, in my opinion.” We reached the GPS location of the county vehicle, appearing behind Sheridan just as he was about to kill Dean. 

“Pete!” Diana yelled. “Put the gun down!”

”Diana?” Sheridan gasped. “How'd you find me?” 

“I know about Claire.” 

“I don't know what you're talking about.” 

“Put the gun down!” 

“Oh, I don't think so. You're fast. I'm pretty sure I'm faster.” 

“Why are you doing this?” She asked. 

“I didn’t do anything, Diana.” Sheridan lied, while I flicked down the safety pin on my gun. 

“It’s a little bit late for that.” 

“It wasn't my fault. Claire was trying to turn me in, I had no choice.” 

“You had a choice, Pete.” Rhodes frowned. “Instead you killed an innocent woman. Then why Tony and Karen?” 

“Same thing! Tony scrubbed the money, he got skittish, and then he wanted to come clean. I'm sure he told Karen everything.” He reasoned. “It was a mess; I had to clean it up. I just panicked.”

“How many more people are going to die over this, Pete?” 

“There's a way out. This Dean kid's a friggin' gift. We could pin the whole thing on him. Right? No trial, nothing. Just, just one more dead scumbag.” 

“Hey!” Dean barked, but backed away when the gun was turned on him. I rolled my eyes, ready to pounce, but with a gun trained on Dean it wouldn’t be wise.

“No one will question it. Diana, please. I still love you.” I gave Diana a look, but she put her gun down. “Thank you. Thank you.” Sheridan turned to Dean, but then Diana quickly picked up her gun, shooting Pete in the stomach and making him fall, giving Dean time to roll out of the way. 

“Then why don’t you buy me another necklace, you ass?!” She hissed, before she was tackled herself, and Sheridan got up, instantly going for the gun, facing off Rhodes and Sam. However, Claire showed up behind Sheridan, making him turn around and gasp in horror as she smiled, giving me time to pull the trigger and shoot him in the back. He fell to the floor, more permanently this time, and Claire gave me a nod before disappearing. 

“Hell of a shot.” Rhodes breathed, glancing to me. 

“Thanks.” I smiled. We gave Diana time to mourn her partner, then she came back to us. 

“You doin' all right?” Sam asked, concerned. 

“No, not really. The death omen Claire, what happens to her now?” 

“Should be over. She should be at rest.” 

“So, what now, officers?” Dean asked. 

“Pete did confess to me. He screwed up both your cases royally. I'd say that there's a good chance that we could get your cases dismissed.” Rhodes explained. 

“You’d take care of that?” I smiled. 

“I hope so. But the St. Louis murder charges? That's another story. I can't help you. Unless... I just happened to turn my back, and you walked away. I could just tell them that the suspects escaped.” 

“You sure?” Sam blinked. 

“Yeah, they’re sure, Sam.” Dean urged. 

“No, I mean, you could lose your jobs over that.” 

“Look, we just want you guys out there doing what you do best. Trust me, I'll sleep better at night.” Diana sighed. “Listen, you need to watch your back. They're gonna be looking for the three of you right now. Get out of here. I gotta radio this in.” 

“Do you know where my car is by any chance?” Dean asked. 

“It’s in an impound lot on Robertson’s.” She gave Dean a look. “No. You’re not stealing it.” 

“Of course not.” I smiled, patting the boys on the shoulder. “We’ve got my Mustang, and we’ll improvise. We’re good at that.” 

“Clearly.” Rhodes grinned, and Dean and Sam shared a look. 

“We’ll meet you at the car.” Dean smirked, dragging Sam with him. Diana had slipped off, leaving me and Rhodes. 

“This’ll be one heck of a story to tell.” 

“I bet.” I laughed, storing my gun in my arm holster. “Just leave out the part of the death omen and people won’t call you insane.” 

“That sounds best.” He chuckled. “You’re a really hard case, Rainer, you know that, right?” 

“I’ve heard. Well, I’ve better get going.” I smiled, then pulled my car keys out of my pocket. I stared at them, then raised an eyebrow. “Wait, I have my keys. If I have them, how are the boys in the-“ My focus was thrown off course by a pair of lips on mine, an arm wrapping around my waist. I dropped my keys because of the impact, forgetting about them and cupping the nape of his neck, the other arm hanging loosely around it. I could feel his smile, tilting his head-

“HAUN HAUN! YOU GOT THE GIRL, OUI OUI?!” I pulled away, turning to where Dean was. 

“DEAN WINCHESTER, I’M GONNA KILL YOU!” I yelled, then stepped back from Rhodes. “Sorry about them.” 

“Nah, you’re good.” He picked up my keys and gave them to me, kissing me again quickly and then my hand. “It’s gonna take a lot to forget you, Rainer.” 

“Don’t worry about that, Serge, nobody can forget me.” I handed him a note with my burner cell number. “Call me sometime. If I don’t pick up, I’m hunting another demon. And, uh, call me Ivy.” 

“Then call me James.” He took the note, pocketing it. “I’ll lead the cops off your trail. Just go, and don’t die, cause those two will need your help. You’re a smooth talker.” 

“I guess that solves the mystery of why I joined them in the first place.” I smiled. “See you around, James.” 

“You too, Ivy.” I walked back to the Mustang, unlocking it and getting in. 

“You boys are idiots.” 

“I like him the best.” Dean smirked. “Cool dude.” 

“Yeah, we love a rogue officer.” Sam teased. 

“Shut up, you two.” I groaned, flooring it and waving goodbye out of the window to James, who was watching me leave. 

PREVIOUS | NEXT

[bearcreekhq]

MEET NICK

Full Name → Nicolás “Nick” Allen Duval

Age → 32

Birthday → December 24, 1991

Order & Type → second, solo

Gender & Pronouns → cis man, he/him

Sexuality → bisexual

Occupation → lawyer, senior associate & co-owner at Duval Law

THEIR STORY

Being obviously half-Mexican in small town Pennsylvania was one thing, but add in private schools, cotillion classes, and society events, and it was no wonder the whispers stayed with Nick all the way through high school – always “Nick,” never “Nicolás,” the Spanish spelling and pronunciation already enough to raise eyebrows. He struggled with anxiety and had trouble focusing, but he stubbornly refused to let his parents down, to bring their family under even more scrutiny. He learned to cope: breathing exercises, spreadsheets, carefully controlled study conditions, and a smile so bright no one would ever look too closely. It could have made him run, leaving Bearcreek permanently for the big city, but Nick decided he’d rather change the rules himself. A thousand tiny microaggressions from people who should have been his friends and peers lit a fire in him, and Nick decided the best use of his privilege was to fight back. He got into NYU early acceptance, and promptly majored in International Studies with a minor in Spanish, with an eye toward the LSATs and law school. A civil rights lawyer with the right education, right resources, and the right attitude could fight back against the system, and leave it better than when he started. Along with law school came a shiny new ADHD diagnosis – something which should have been obvious, but apparently went unnoticed until the pressures of an L1 course load threatened the careful coping mechanisms he’d developed over the years. Once he had a name for what he was dealing with and the proper medication and support structure, he doubled down, graduating law school with a contingent offer from a prestigious firm in Philadelphia and passing the bar on his first try. He cut his teeth on civil litigation, immigration and custody lawsuits, and worked his way up from junior associate to lead counsel. The pace was grueling, however, and Nick ended up back in Bearcreek just to avoid burnout, finally in a position to make a difference — he just had to figure out what that looked like. A call from an old friend gave Nick the opportunity he’d been looking for — the chance to make waves, and rebuild a formerly influential Bearcreek law firm into something that could make a difference. His name isn’t above the door yet, but if he can help salvage the client base and tarnished reputation, maybe he’ll be in a position to negotiate — and really shake things up, when push comes to shove. Due to his upbringing, Nick is stubborn, passionate, and knows how to turn on the charm — but he’s also a little bit goofy, with a dry, offbeat sense of humor and a tendency to tease the people he’s closest to. He’s wildly intelligent, something he inherited from his mother, but with some very specific blind spots that make him a bit oblivious at times: namely, he’s terrible at self-care, has a crippling coffee addiction, and occasionally gets so focused on what’s right in front of him that he misses social cues (Jury’s still out on whether his quirks are annoying or endearing.)

[midnightsslut]

Pre-law isn’t really a necessary thing. Like you can take a couple of courses about law, and definitely make sure you have classes where you write…but you can major in Econ or finance and then go to law school (and finance law is a thing 😂)

yeah ik prelaw isn’t really necessary as long as you get good recs and LSAT scores, but I’m also sort of wondering if i’m forcing myself to pursue something that doesn’t come naturally to me just because it’s harder (so math/finance). actually, i know i am, but is that the best course of action? idk

[orcaofmyheart99]

Unforgettable

This is a WIP. Not spell checked or anything. After a day spent studying for the LSAT, my brain just kind of snapped when I started listening to some jazz songs. After months of not writing anything I am so glad I was able to write a little something!

For @newsies-are-the-new-best-thing

It was May and the flowers were in bloom. The promise of long summer nights under a starry sky could be smelled in the alluring scented air. Katherine had told the newsies that she and her band would be hosting a jazz dance. Jack wanted to do something special for his anniversary with David so he decided he would take him to the dance. Even though Jack would usually despise something like this, he knew David loved dancing and getting dressed up for a formal occasion. 

“So how should I ask him to the dance?” Jack pestered Katherine

“I want is to be special and surprise him” 

“Well, you can tell him that you are just going out and not tell him where?”

“Hmmm, I’ll try that” 

When David got back to the lodging house, Jack met him in the dining room. The table was set with some bread and cheese and a few roses were in a small vase in the middle. 

“What’s the occasion?” David asked, an eyebrow raised

Jack smiled trying his best not to give anything away 

“No occasion just wanted to show you how much I love you” He said gesturing for David to sit down

As they began to eat Jack spoke up

“Well, there is actually an occasion. For our anniversary I want to do something special for you. I can’t tell you where we are going, but I will tell you where something you can dance in!”

David beamed 

“Oh Jack, I am already so excited” 

A few days later Jack and David got dressed for the dance 

David was wearing a classic black tux while Jack had on gray pants and a mustard yellow jacket. As David walked walked out the front door, he saw Jack on the front porch with a cigarette dangling from his right hand. His hair has been slicked back with a slight wave to it. David felt his breath catch a little bit. 

“Hey there” Jack said, smirking at David’s expression. 

“Hows about we get going?” All David could do was nod.

As they walked into the dance, Jack and David saw Katherine who was singing. David couldn’t stop smiling. 

“Oh my Jack, it is perfect!” 

The room had a cozy glow to it, with red, gold, and pink streamers. Lights were hung against the wall, casting dancing shadows. 

Jack took David’s hand and they headed to the floor. The song The Way You Look Tonight was playing. Jack pulled David close against him. Katherine sang out 

“There is nothing for me but to love you

And the way you look tonight” 

Jack and David sat down at a table to enjoy some cheese cake and tea before they got up for another dance. 

Katherine called out “Well, we have two more very special songs coming up now. To all the couples out there, come on up and dance!” 

David led Jack back to the floor 

“Stars shinin' bright above you

Night breezes seem to whisper, "I love you"

Birds singin' in the sycamore tree

Dream a little dream of me

Say, "Nighty-night" and kiss me

Just hold me tight and tell me you'll miss me

While I'm alone and blue as can be

Dream a little dream of me” 

The swayed to the music, letting the song carry them across the floor. 

“Last song of the night” Katherine announced now. 

“Thank you all so much for coming out. And let me say, I hope your night was unforgettable”

With a smile she began to sing 

“Unforgettable, that's what you are

Unforgettable, though near or far” 

Jack pulled away from David to look concerned. 

“Like a song of love that clings to me

How the thought of you does things to me”

Dave, I gotta ask you somethin”

David nodded his head, nervously.

“Never before has someone been more

Unforgettable in every way

And forevermore (and forevermore)”

“Will you marry me?”

That's how you'll stay (that's how you'll stay)

David smiled slowly “Yes, of course my love”

“That's why, darling, it's incredible

That someone so unforgettable

Thinks that I am unforgettable too”

Jack smiled back, trying to wipe away the tears of happiness in his eyes. 

Jack and Davey walked back home, quietly, letting the sound of the city speak. Both looked up at the starry sky, as they paused under the streetlight right outside the lodging house. Jack pulled Davey into him, gently kissing him. This night would be unforgettable.

[johnypage95]

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[saileshjain]

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[watchingspnagain]

Rewatching The Monster at the End of this Book

Welcome to “The One with All the Plot Holes: A Supernatural Rewatch Blog” with Lor and Mace!

Up today, s4e18: The Monster at the End of This Book

The boys discover that there’s a series of books out there that, despite being catalogued as fiction novels, are essentially a chronicle of their lives. Needless to say, it weirds them out. They find the dude who’s writing them and ask him, sort of kindly, to stop.  Enter Cas, who tells them that Chuck is a prophet and to leave him be to do his thing. None of this, of course, makes any sense once Chuck is later in the show trotted back out as capital-g god. Best to just let go and let Jack with this one. Otherwise your head may asplode.

Below is a log of our real-time reactions as we watched. Remember that there may be spoilers for any part of SPN’s 15-season run here. Note also that the nature of our conversation is adult and thus it may contain adult language and themes.

 [and we begin:]

Lor:

"the FBI is investigating a rodent problem?

Mace:

ha

Lor:

oh Dean. you will learn about LARPing and you will love it

Mace:

so they know about LARPing before Charlie. interesting

Lor:

lol yeah

Lor:

kind of an underground cult following

Lor:

I LOVE IT WHEN THEY DO THIS

Lor:

omg the cover

Lor:

don't worry, boys, you are WAY hotter than that nonsense

Mace:

HA

Lor:

omg Dean lying on the bed reading crawls in with him

Mace:

It’s sort of sad that we’ll never get that OMG WTF feeling about these kinds of episodes anymore

Lor:

RIGHT?

Lor:

this is definitely on my list of things I wish I could experience again for the first time

Mace:

don’t read the comments, boys

Lor:

NEVER

Mace:

i love them reacting to the slash fic of them

Lor:

YES

Mace:

dr sexy!

Lor:

excuse me. just smoosh the Supernatural books together with romance crap. GOLD

Lor:

YES

Lor:

THE BEST PARTS ARE WHEN THEY CRY

Mace:

“right now I’m crying on the inside"

Lor:

Sam's little snort about how often does Dean cry like that

Mace:

YES

Lor:

Sam isn't sure of his LSAT score!

Mace:

omg Dean’s smirk

Lor:

I love them

Lor:

YES

Mace:

(I love that Elle gets a higher LSAT than Sam)

Mace:

YAS SHOW THE TATS

Lor:

(YAAAAAS)

Lor:

YESYESYES

Lor:

it's a lot harder to enjoy Chuck now...

Mace:

yeah

Mace:

[my dogs] both started barking at the doorbell

Mace:

calm down, gals, it’s just the boys

Lor:

Dean's face when he rings the bell again

Lor:

LOLOLOLOL

Lor:

pups!

Mace:

so is chuck acting here or did the writers retroactively make him god?

Lor:

i think he's acting

Mace:

hmmmm

Mace:

makes me twitchy

Lor:

I mean. the writers definitely retconed it, but I think we're supposed to understand retroactively that Chuck did know he was God here

Mace:

well i mean we have to, sure, but

Lor:

yeah

Mace:

BUGS

Lor:

"did you really have to live through the bugs?" haaaahahahahahaha

Lor:

look, Chuck, the ghost ship was WAY better than the bugs

Lor:

DEAN

Mace:

yeah

Lor:

my little reader

Mace:

so then WHY is he shocked that they’ve just shown up at the door?!

Mace:

as much as I love this, it doesn’t really work

Lor:

well, he didn't think it was real

Lor:

supposedly

Mace:

I need to stop thinking about it

Lor:

just look at Sam's collar bones, Mace

Mace:

yes’m

Lor:

good girl

Mace:

yeah, okay, so no, he’s not god here or that scene wouldn’t have happened

Lor:

YEP

Mace:

i need to just stop worrying and learn to love the loopholes

Lor:

"it's just a first draft"

Mace:

yeah back off, Lilith

Mace:

omg Dean veggie tofu

Lor:

Sam. order a better salad than that

Lor:

LOL

Mace:

I happen to like cobb salad, Lor

Lor:

squints at you

Mace:

are you yucking my yum?

Lor:

I would never

Lor:

lolol Dean

Mace:

Uh huh

Mace:

not cool man

Mace:

Sam is squinting right back at you, sister

Lor:

Mace:

i can’t see whatever that is

Mace:

boys. read Oedipus Rex. you can’t fight fate

Lor:

it's me and Dean weeping

Lor:

NOPE

Mace:

am not botherèd

Lor:

sads

Mace:

well then don’t mock my salad choices next time

Lor:

sliiiiides you TWO cobb salads

Lor:

omg FRECKLES

Mace:

“you look terrible” um, no

Lor:

RIGHT?!

Mace::

also? there’s no way Cas wouldn’t recognize who chuck really is

Lor:

the only person you can push against the wall is Cas, Dean, come on you should know this

Lor:

YEP

Lor:

unless Chuck is mojoing him some how

Lor:

Cas is looking for the full frontal parts

Mace:

HA

Mace:

“you should have seen Luke” HAHAHAHA

Lor:

LOL

Mace:

Cas. Snitches get stitches

Lor:

tsk

Lor:

he's okay with it if Dean does the stitching

Mace:

that’s probably true

Mace:

Dean. you’re being unreasonable. how is Sam any more of a freak than the dude who tortured people in hell and liked it?

Mace:

glass houses and all that

Lor:

yeah

Mace:

i love that Cas is the one who answers when dean prays

Lor:

YES

Lor:

JESUS Cas with his faces

Mace:

YES

Lor:

i love that Dean tried to pep talk him first and then is like "okay, fine. threat of violence"

Mace:

yeah

Mace:

ugh this angel is a dick

Lor:

he REALLY is

[devonian-error]

I had some thoughts on Ray's backstory, and why he became a defense attorney.

I think he had an older brother, Samuel, let's call him, around 16 years older than him, with a neighborhood reputation as a troublemaker. Petty theft, asault, property damage, Sam has spent more time in juvenile detention than in school, but when Ray was born, he promised to turn his life around for him. For the most part he did. He never went to college, and still lives at home, but he found a job that pays well enough to handle christmas gifts, and Ray's 11th birthday present, a game boy.

He's the person the parents at school are talking about whenever they tell their kids "you wouldn't want to end up like that, would you?" Which Ray doesn't understand, because Sam is the best brother he could have asked for.

Then 1994 hits. Ray is twelve years old. a woman, one of Sam's former high school teachers, is shot three times in the back on their street corner. Sam cracks a joke at dinner about how lucky Ray is that she won't be his teacher, and Mama yells at him.

1994, Ray comes home from school to see his apartment building surrounded by police cars, his brother sitting handcuffed on the ground. When Sam sees him, he throws him a playful shrug.

It does nothing to mask how scared he is.

1994. He's never heard anyone call his brother such awful things. Low-Life, Good-for-Nothing, Lost Cause. The prosecution reads off Sam's previous charges, as if they happened yesterday and not before Ray was even born. A jury member clicks her teeth. The gallery bursts into quiet murmers. Mama just stares at her lap. Praying, he thinks. Sam doesn't say anything.

Guilty.

Raymond is 12, as he watches, tears pricking at the corners of his eyes, watching his brother get taken away in handcuffs.

He is 12 when he learns that over a decade of reformation means nothing in the face of a 2 year long criminal record.

He is 12 when he learns that, in the eyes of the law, in the eyes of the prosecution, his brother will always be a criminal.

Mama says you shouldn't hate anyone. Clearly, Mama's never met a prosecutor.

1996. Raymond is 14. He attends his brother's high school, and pretends not to notice the way his homeroom teacher's face drops once he affirms the question "are you related to Samuel Shields?"

He recieves double checks for plagiarism on his first few homework assignments.

His teachers raise a doubtful eyebrow when he tells them that he wants to become a lawyer.

He aces all of his classes.

1998. Raymond is 16. Sam was discovered dead in his cell. (Suicide, they said. He doesn't believe it) He wears one of Sam's old suits to the funeral. Mama can't afford to buy him one of his own. The body in the coffin doesn't look like his brother. His hair is too short (they made him cut his hair) he's far too skinny (they weren't feeding him enough), his glasses are broken. (He would never be that careless)

He visits his grave after school everyday.

1999, Ray is 17. The real killer, the woman's ex-boyfriend, is found, tried, and incarcerated. He confessed to everything. Ray doesn't care. It doesn't fix anything. Sam still spent the rest of his life in prison for a crime he didn't commit. Sam is still dead.

2000. Raymond is 18. He graduates high school with a 4.0, an LSAT score of 175, a full ride scholarship to Ivy University, and an internship at a local law firm straight out of high school. He wants to tell his brother all of this. That he's going to fight for people like him.

There's no one to tell but a gravestone. It'll have to do.

2001. Ray is 19. His mentor has been murdered. (Did no one bother to do a proper investigation? Typical.) A man is condemned to spend 18 years in prison for a crime he did not commit. They both leave children behind.

2019. Ray is 36.

Gregory's kid is alive, he's a prosecutor (Of all fucking things, of course) and he's fucked up a lot of people's lives (he tries not to think about Sam. He fails. He's been doing that a lot recently.) but Miles is trying, he supposes.

Kate invites him back to the mansion. The missing body from that last, awful case, shows up, perfectly preserved. The statute of limitations (On a murder case. What a fucking joke.) is almost up. This is his last chance.

Maybe he can at least help someone.

The gas goes off, the pieces fall into place. Kate was just as desperate to find the killer as he is, only just a little more.

Jeff Masters goes free. Dane Gustavia goes free, too.

Both of their children are arrested.

The law is never going to be truly fair, is it?

[studyabroadconsultancies]

Top 10 Exams to Study Abroad

Studying abroad is a coveted aspiration for many students as it offers the chance to receive a top-notch education, immerse oneself in a new culture, and broaden horizons. However, before embarking on this exciting journey, it's crucial to be well-versed in the exams required for admission to foreign universities and colleges.

These exams act as a standardized measure to assess the academic prowess and English language proficiency of international students. In this blog post, we'll delve into the top 10 exams for studying abroad that you may encounter on your academic journey.

TOEFL (Test of English as a Foreign Language):

This widely accepted English language proficiency test evaluates your ability to comprehend and utilize English at a university level.

IELTS (International English Language Testing System):

Similar to TOEFL, IELTS is another widely recognized test assessing proficiency in listening, reading, writing, and speaking.

SAT (Scholastic Assessment Test):

Widely used for U.S. college admissions, SAT evaluates skills in reading, writing, and math. Many international universities, especially in the U.S., require SAT scores for undergraduate admissions.

ACT (American College Testing):

Another U.S.-centric standardized test measuring proficiency in English, math, reading, and science. Some universities accept either SAT or ACT scores.

GRE (Graduate Record Examination):

This standardized test is essential for admission to graduate programs, particularly in the United States, assessing verbal reasoning, quantitative reasoning, and analytical writing skills.

GMAT (Graduate Management Admission Test):

Tailored for business school admissions, GMAT evaluates analytical writing, integrated reasoning, quantitative reasoning, and verbal reasoning skills.

MCAT (Medical College Admission Test):

Required for medical school admissions in the U.S., Canada, and other countries, MCAT assesses knowledge and skills in natural, behavioral, and social sciences, along with critical analysis and reasoning.

LSAT (Law School Admission Test):

Mandatory for law school admissions in the U.S., Canada, and some other countries, LSAT measures reading comprehension, analytical reasoning, and logical reasoning skills.

DAT (Dental Admission Test):

Essential for dental school admissions in the U.S. and Canada, DAT evaluates knowledge and skills in natural sciences, perceptual ability, reading comprehension, and quantitative reasoning.

OET (Occupational English Test):

Specifically designed for healthcare professionals, OET assesses English proficiency in a healthcare setting.

Understanding the specific exam requirements for your desired country, university, and program is paramount. Early research and preparation are key components to success. Enrolling in preparatory courses, utilizing study materials, and taking practice tests can significantly aid in familiarizing yourself with the exam format and content.

In conclusion, the exams for studying abroad play a pivotal role in the application process, serving as benchmarks for academic and language proficiency. By staying informed about the required exams and starting your preparation well in advance, you can pave the way for a successful study abroad experience. Best of luck on your exams and may your study abroad adventure be fulfilling and enriching!

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