#I know because I have a notebook addiction too

[turns-out-its-adhd]

When the 'get a planner' advice comes from other ADHDers - bitch I know you have 5 planners and countless notebooks and you've only used three pages in each of them.

[unknownmads]

PRISON TOJII (he’s so addictive🤭) if he’s so bad then why does he look so good? like that’s literally my baby daddy y’all✊🏼😍 i wrote this kinda quick sorry i’ve been so busy y’all

“hey doll it’s good to finally meet you.”

the words rang through your eyes having this be the first time you heard his voice, it was deep and rough his ton was teasing you quietly.

Prison Toji who’s eyes track as you reach into your bag grabbing a small notebook and pen. Opening the notebook revealed a page already full of questions you were waiting to ask him. oh how cute you are thinking about him so much just so excited. he’s pulled out of his trance when you finally speak.

“hi toji, i great to finally meet you too” your voice soft at first from your original anxiety about the situation. i mean your just here to meet him for your class nothing more. right? i mean you wouldn’t be here because you love reading his letters telling you how pretty you are. how he wished he could take you out properly. Shamelessly telling you how hard he got to your pictures. but he was just flirting he’s a man in a prison it’s what happens.

Prison toji who finally speaks next the seconds feeling like eternity for him. He doesn’t want to have to sit across a table from you he want you in his lap sitting pretty just how you are now.

“That’s a lot of writing in your lil notebook doll, you been thinkin of me?” this time his tone laced with teasing and smirk displayed on his lips. it draws attention to his scar, you had never asked about it not wanting to push things you shouldn’t.

“where’d you get that scar?” pointing to your own lip as you looked up at him. a small chuckle escapes him surprised at your bluntness.

“well you’re quick to the questions today. you wanna get a closer look at it?” the gawking look one your face giving you away. and with a quick nod you were leaning across the table to get a closer look as he did the same to help you.

Prison Toji who stops you with a noise when your hand reaches up to touch his lip where the scar is

“shit sorry” quietly escapes you as you looked away for a second toji takes this as an opportunity

“you’re okay sweetheart just gonna get us in some trouble if you do that.” his lips next to your ear as his breath brushing against your ear “can’t control myself with a pretty thing like you.”

Prison Toji whose pants grow so much tighter when he sees how flustered you get from such a simple comment. You turn back to face him, his eyes instantly meeting yours challenging you telling you to do it, see how far it goes, see how bad he possibly he, and just like a moth to a flame you do just that. your hand grazing where his scar is going to cup his face, it was all so fast you could barely process it. he forced himself forward slamming his lips to yours. shock took you first then you eased into the kiss and began kissing back. and then you remembered HES A PRISONER AND THIS IS SUPPOSED TO BE FOR SCHOOL.

Prison toji whose ready to snap his cuffs when you pull away. leaning into you as much as he could almost whining when your gone. he sees you shocked and guilt ridden with your finger touching your lips

“whats wrong doll didn’t like it? give me another chance to try again” his body fully leaning to you practically half way over the table.

“im sorry we shouldn’t hav- it wasn’t bad- just we can’t Toji.” your thoughts swirling the world is spinning. Could you get kick out of school? what if someone saw? are there cameras in here? why do i still want to? it’s wrong.

“It’s fine sweetheart no one will know, just you and me i know you want more from the look on your face and the way your sqeezin your thighs. don’t even try to deny it.”

Caught. like the moth to a flame, fly in a trap, he’s got you.

Prison toji whose cock jumps when you slide out of your seat and approach him looking to make sure the guards weren’t watching. unknowing to the fact that tojo already blackmailed both of them to let him have all the privacy he needed with you. the look in your eyes as you approached was pure lust and need for him.

“your sure we’ll be fine right?” you say as you lean down towards him

“im positive doll i made sure of it.”

Prison Toji who finally snaps his cuffs unable to take anymore. grabbing your hips and pulling you into his lap his face clashing with your the kiss is sloppy and full of need. a small sound escaping as he deepens the kiss.

“i’ve been dreaming of this.”

TAGS: @altgojo @nanmiik @kouyoumarryme @imaslothandsowhat @dragonmaiden79 @sircatchungus

SOME OF YALL DIDNT SHOW UP WHEN I SEARCHED IM SO SORRY😭

[charmedbystars]

can u do a fanfic for e-42 miles based on Super Shy by Newjeans 🙏🏽 the song is like REALLYY CUTE AND I CANT STOP LISTENING TO IT 😣😣

e-42 miles x shy reader

summary: y/n's mind is constantly processing on how to not be awkward around miles.

content: no warnings!

a/n: both of these asks were similar so i just decided to make it into one! these requests r so sweet. thank u anon🥹🥹. also I AGREE SUPER SHY BY NEW JEANS IS SO ADDICTIVE AND THE CHOREO IS SO CUTE!!

sitting with your friends at lunch, you peeked over your shoulder to take a look at the cute boy standing with his friends. nobody knew how badly the girl wanted to make a move and claim him as hers, but there was no way of that happening. 

you were fairly new to brooklyn and visions academy. you’ve been there for a couple months and settled in fine. on your first day of school, some girl approached you and invited you to sit with her and her friends at lunch. you weren’t the most outgoing person, so you were glad that someone reached out before you had to. 

“so y/n, do you think anyone is cute at this school?” one of your friends, layla, asked you. 

that snapped you from your thoughts, turning your head to look at your friends staring at you expectantly. you opened your mouth to say something before closing it again. you were way too scared for it to get out, not that you didn’t trust your friends, you just didn’t want anyone to overhear or constantly be teased by it. shaking your head ‘no’ your friends just went back to the conversation they were having. 

you sighed, looking over your shoulder once more before going back to eating your lunch. the rest of lunch zoomed by and you went to your next class. you had biology with miles, being one of the two classes you had with him. you sat three rows behind him, most classes staring at the back of his head. he’s never turned around or noticed, you’re pretty sure he doesn’t even know you exist. 

sitting in class, you just listened to the teacher explain the direction for a project she was assigning. it was a partner project that she would be assigning. hearing her call out names, your head snapped when you heard your name being followed by miles’ name. you couldn’t believe it. this was gonna be so bad because he made you nervous, you just imagine the whole thing being awkward. you starting shuffling the stuff on your desk, making space for miles who was walking over. he pulls up a chair and slides it across from you, the desk being in between you guys. you didn’t want to make eye-contact so you just played with your hands and bit your lips. miles raised a brow at your behavior thinking it was cute, while your thoughts were going crazy thinking you bombed your only opportunity. 

“i’m miles morales, you’re y/n right?” he asked trying to break the silence. you nodded in response and he gave you a grin before continuing, “so for the project, i was thinking we do the botany and ecology unit since the molecular biology unit is really long and i don’t really wanna do the genetics part.” 

you blessed miles in your mind, thanking him for starting the conversation easily. “uh, yeah i would be fine with that,” you responded. giving you a glanced, he responded “okay, cool” before turning to write in his notebook. 

“i’m not doing anything after school so we could meet in the library, can’t go to my dorm since my roommate is a pretty loud gamer,” he said. you simply nodded. the bell rang signifying that class was over. 

the school day passed and all you could think of is how you were gonna talk to miles after school without sounding stupid. now, you were naturally shy, but that didn’t mean you couldn’t have conversations or lots of friends. it was only miles who made you really nervous and you didn’t want to embarrass yourself in front of him or stumble over your friends.

walking over to the library, you had two paper cups in hand containing hot chocolate. you had wanted one and decided to get one for miles too (also maybe trying to win yourself some brownie points to make him like you a little bit). walking into the library, you look over, already seeing miles at a table with books spread out around him. walking up and stopping in front of him, you gave him a smile.

“i stopped by a cafe before coming here… i hope you like hot chocolate,” you said, trying to sound as calm as possible. miles looking up at you, gave you a grateful smile before grabbing the cup out of your hands. 

“thanks, make yourself at home since we gotta work on this shih.”

you followed by sitting down and started taking your books and notebooks out. after being spread out, miles gave you a piece of scratch paper with a draft of what he kinda wants to do for the project. reading over it, you deemed everything good and nodded at him. you both discussed where to begin and he shared a powerpoint with you. 

an hour passed and you start to feel more confident in your abilities to talk to miles. discussing work and occasional small talk has slightly taken away your nervousness of talking to the pretty boy. 

“i feel like we should put more detail and description on the photosynthesis pa-” you began. 

“can you say that again?”

“that we should put more detail on this part?”

“no, say photosynthesis.”

“photosynthesis?”

“the way you say that is cute, ma,” he grinned. 

your head literally malfunctioned at that moment. there was no way the boy that you have been pining over for the past month just called you cute. you simply nodded, not knowing how to respond when miles kept on pushing. 

“you know, i catch you staring at me a lot,” he smugly said, resting his chin on his hand. 

“i don’t know- i mean, sorry?”

“nah, i think it’s cute. i think your cute in general.”

you felt your face flush and looked to the side, scratching your neck. “thanks miles,” you tried to sound appreciative, but accepting compliments was so hard and weird for you. you didn’t want to come off as stuck up, but also didn’t want to come off as ungrateful either. thankfully, your shyness didn’t back miles off.

“you wanna go out with me sometime? we could go to that cafe you went to earlier. whatever is comfortable for you.”

miles saying that immediately brought you out of your shell. “wait, really?” you asked with a shocked look on your face. miles leaned back in his seat, nodding, “of course, hermosa.” you nodded fast, a big smile on your face. who was going to say no to a date with miles morales?

you both forgot existence of the project in that moment and kept on talking.

extra!

the next day at lunch, you were sitting with your friends talking. miles walked by your table and you gave him a small wave, he waved back following a grin before continuing to catch up with his friends. your friends looked at you in shock.

“uhm mrs. super shy? wanna tell us what that was about?” your friend asked.

“give us all the deets. you just got the school’s pretty boy attention.” your other friend asked. you sighed knowing that even after you explain, the questions and hype from your friends will be never ending. 

[vivwritesfics]

Gremlin

I get paid to be his best friend.

Lance couldn't begin to describe just how much her saying that hurt him. She made it sound as though she was paid to keep him company, when in actual fact they had been best friends for years and years and years and years.

She was his assistant, but assistant was a loose title. The more Lance thought about it, the more he realised that maybe she was just paid to be his best friend. They spent any free moment goofing off together, probably annoying everybody around them.

"Lancenot Stroll," she said as she strode towards him in her green Aston Martin shirt. She had a notebook tucked under her arms, but Lance knew they were full of odd little drawings, most of them inappropriate.

Lancenot Stroll. She'd been calling him that since they were kids. Lance did a bit where he pretended to hate it, but he really loved it.

"Gremlin," he said as she hopped up onto the little table. "What do you want?"

His racing suit was around his hips and his white fireproofs covered his body. He looked good, undeniably so.

Y/N leaned back against the wall as she looked at her best friend. "Can't I just want to enjoy your company?"

"No."

Yes, she could.

Lance leaned his elbows on the table and looked up at her. She couldn't stop herself from running her hands through his hair and messing it up.

Lance gave her a joking glare and, goddamn, if he didn't look cute. Y/N booped his nose and leaned back.

As Lance prepared himself for the race, Y/N scrolled through her tiktok with the sound off. She watched through the F1 tiktoks that appeared on her for you page, most of them about Lance (if it wasn't for her, he'd never know about any of the drama).

"Did you know there's a thing on tiktok where people say how many shots it would take for them to get with drivers?" She asked as she gently kicked her legs.

Lance looked up, something of a grin playing on her lips. "How many to get with me?" He asked as he walked closer and placed his hands on her thighs.

She pretended not to notice, but his touch was warm, addicting. Y/N swiped through the slides on the tiktok until she found Lance. "Two," she answered and read out what they had to say about him. "So fucking cute, like seriously, and, I'm so freaking jealous of Y/N I'd do anything to be in her position."

His dark eyes stared unto her own. "How many shots would it take you?"

"Easy, zero," she answered just a little bit too quickly. Lance's eyes lit up. "Because it's not happening."

Lance pouted at her. In response, Y/N squeezed his cheeks together. She loved it when he pouted, couldn't get another of it.

His facial hair burned against her fingertips as she pulled away. "You're cute, Lancenot," she said and hopped off of the table to 'do her job'.

"You are, too, Gremlin," he said as she walked out of the room.

***

"I get paid to be his best friend," Y/N said with a grin to the audiences of the Aston Martin tiktok page.

Lance watched her. He couldn't help but grin as she spun and snapped her fingers towards the camera. "Gremlin!" He shouted and she walked away from the camera, leaving the editor of the video to do their job.

Lance opened his arm and she tucked herself beneath it. "Good luck, Lancenot," she said and reached up to kiss his cheek.

He tightened his arms around her, gently rocking her from side to side. It was a pre race ritual; Lance called it his good luck charm.

"Come with me to the track?" He asked, kissing the top of her head.

Y/N thought about it. Well, she made it look like she thought about it. "This may come as a surprise to you, but I actually have work to do."

"What? No you don't."

"Lancey Lance," she said as she pulled away. "I need to plan all of the fun things for us to do while we're in the United States," she said and walked away from him. "Good luuuuuck!" She called as she walked away, heading for the privacy of his unused drivers room.

Before the race started, before the driver's got into their cars, Y/N's phone buzzed

Estie Bestie x

You guys are so cute together

But you should definitely get a room

[princessbrunette]

i was thinking this more for rafe than jj but I feel like it could work for both...

I can't stop thinking about frat!rafe/jj forcing you to give him the notes from class everyday and then one day you tell him no unless he gives you smth 😵‍💫

-` ♡ ´-ಇ.₊˚⊹♡

oh this is hot because you can literally never tell if he’s bullying you or flirting with you? and the way he teeters on the edge of both is sadly just too addictive for you to shut him down fully.

he leans over to you in your seminar, backwards cap, colourful polo— the works. it was sickening really, you had no idea why you were attracted to him. okay, you had some idea. he was gorgeous, facially — and tall, strong, probably packing like crazy. he wasn’t the most obscure character in your life to be interested in, just out of your usual tastes.

“hey… you got the notes? i uh, didn’t have time to study.” he gapes at you fairly innocently, gum tucked beneath his back teeth. by didn’t have time, it’s obvious he meant didn’t even attempt to study.

you say nothing, sliding your pink notebook over with no arguments. maybe it was the natural submissive in you.

“shiiiiiit,” his lip quirks up in a smirk as he eyes the neat and tidy organisation of your pages. “you’re really locked into this shit, huh?” he whispers, and your eyes flicker to the professor, hoping he didn’t notice you slacking off.

“well i know you usually need notes so… i just make it presentable so you can actually read it.” you shrug, and it only hits you how pathetic it was until it’s left your mouth. his brows jump up, eyes meeting yours again and his mouth opens, still smiling.

“really?” he asks but it’s more of a statement. “well that’s uh, that’s real sweet of you. thank you. shit, what’s your name again?”

the moments gone.

he continues his usual routine of begging notes off you after that, and you do so without any complaint. it’s starting to get on your nerves though, not quite clicking in your brain that rafe cameron is actually, annoyingly very academically gifted. he could store knowledge like it was nothing, and never flunked a test. he asked you for your notes each seminar because he didn’t know how to talk to shy girls, but he wanted to talk to you.

you lose your patience with his carelessness towards the module you’re studying, and totally ignore him for once. it was hard, and you could feel his slightly irritated confusion from beside you— following you quickly out of the class at the end of it.

“hey, wait up. did i— did i do something i thought we had a thing goin’ with the notes? can you stop and talk to me?” he emphasises, stopping in his tracks when you turn around right in front of him.

“you know it’s not that fun being used.” you accuse, more firey than you intended.

“wh— used?” he lets free an infuriating chuckle, itching his nose, a nervous tick unbeknownst to you.

“yeah. you come to the seminar each week unprepared and i have to do all of the work for the both of us for nothing in return.” you huff petulantly and unexpectedly his heart skips a beat, actually liking this riled up side to you. poor thing just wanted attention.

“well,” he scoffs wordlessly, looking around with his arms up. “i’m sorry, okay? what— here, what do you want from me? i got you.” he steps up seriously, and god— you’re clearly thinking with your pussy because without a second thought your eyes briefly drop down. not just downward, but specifically on his crotch before guiltily up to his gaze once more. he smirks, eyes widening a touch. “oh, shit? alright then.” he chuckles and you feel yourself heat up.

“w—well, well wait i—”

“n’here i am, like an idiot, thinking you’re shy.” he steps closer, lowering his voice in the now mostly empty hallway outside of your seminar hall. “you know, i— i think i can work something out for you.”

it’s not the arrangement he was expecting with a shy girl like you. he had it planned in his head, just charm you enough until he runs into you outside of class and find his way into your panties, telling you that it was okay, and that he just wanted to thank you for helpin’ him out so much.

instead, he had you knocking on his dorm door, clearly having had a long day, which occurred around two to three times a week in these occurrences — telling him that you’re stressed, and if he’s gonna use you, you really — really needed to use him.

which is how you’d end up sucking him inside you, whining and practically crying as you fuck on him like a personalised dildo, letting him work the stress out of your body with large and coarse hands. he supposed it was true what they said in all those corny college movies, the nerds really are freakier.

-` ♡ ´-ಇ.₊˚⊹♡

[lostfracturess]

【 ꜱʏᴍᴘᴛᴏᴍꜱ ᴀɴᴅ ᴄᴀᴜꜱᴇꜱ 】 ch. 05

x pairing professor!gojo x med student f!reader (medical au)

x summary he's arrogant, self-centered, and he's your professor. renowned for his brilliance in neurosurgery and infamous for his allure. too bad you have to work with him on this research team. now you're stuck with dr. satoru gojo, delving into the complexities of both the brain and the heart—and of how far you'd go for a love that could destroy not only him but you as well.

x wc 11.4 k

x warnings [18+] this story contains substance abuse/addiction, (rough) smut, mature themes, self-destructive behavior, (heavy) angst, mentions of death / illness / blood / abuse, graphic medical procedures. reader discretion is advised.

x author's note dive in and let me know what you think—i love hearing your thoughts! & pls like or repost if you enjoyed, it means the world ♡

series masterlist + playlist + ao3 + wattpad

<- prev chapter | next chapter ->

The alarm rang.

The shrill sound pierced the morning silence.

It rang again.

And then a third time.

Each buzz felt like a hammer against your skull.

You groaned, turning over and burying your head under the covers. All you wanted was to sleep—to sleep and forget.

The alarm rang a fourth time.

Fuck.

With a sigh, you dragged yourself out of bed.

You felt sick.

By the time you hurried towards the auditorium, the sun was already high in the sky, casting harsh lights across the campus. You slipped through the doors. The lecture was already in full swing, the professor's voice echoing through the large room filled with students scribbling notes.

Finding your way to where Toge, Maki, and Yuta were seated, you quietly slid into the empty seat beside them. Maki glanced at you with a raised eyebrow.

"Why so late?" she whispered.

"Poor sleep," you muttered, keeping your gaze lowered to hide the dark circles under your eyes.

'Poor sleep' was an understatement. 

'No sleep' was more fitting.

Yuta leaned in. "After the surgery, I thought you'd be on cloud nine! You're practically a campus celebrity now."

Maki nodded. "Seriously, it's insane. Dr. Handsome letting you take the lead in such a surgery? That's crazy."

Your stomach churned at Maki's casual reference to Satoru as 'Dr. Handsome.' 

Because he was far from.

"Crazy," Toge repeated.

"It's really not that big, guys. Let's just focus on the lecture," you urged. Somehow, their congratulations felt hollow, knowing the full story was far from great as they painted it to be.

Your friends shot you surprised looks, taken aback by your restrained response. 

But talking about the surgery—the surgery you had to lead because Satoru was fucking high on some shit was really the least thing you wanted to talk about. And you couldn't really talk about it either, could you? Not really.

Maki and Yuta exchanged glances, their expressions shifting from excitement to concern. They could sense something was off, but they didn't press further. Toge only gave you a reassuring pat on the back.

As the professor delved into—... whatever he was lecturing on—your mind couldn't help but drift back to the surgery, replaying every moment—the fear, the nausea, the burden Satoru had forced onto you. Your head throbbed with a dull, relentless pain.

The rest of the lecture seemed to drift by in a blur.

Your pen moved mechanically across the notebook. You barely registered the words on the page. As the professor finished and the students around you began to stir, Yuta leaned over. "Hey, if Gojo needs a kick in the ass, just say the word. We've got your back."

You mustered a small smile. "Thanks, Yuta."

Then your phone vibrated in your pocket. You pulled it out to see Geto's name flashing on the screen. You pondered for a moment if you should even answer the call. Taking a deep breath, you answered.

"Geto—"

"We need to talk about the surgery," Geto's voice was serious, almost grave. "The university director wants to see you in his office. It's urgent."

Panic fluttered in your chest. "Has something happened? Is it about Gojo?"

"It's better we discuss this in person. I'll be there too. Just come as soon as you can."

Ending the call, a heavy weight settled in your stomach. 

Apologizing to Yuta, you quickly gathered your things. "I need to go."

Maki's eyes followed you. "Is everything okay?"

"I'm not sure. Something's come up."

Yuta and Toge exchanged a glance, their expressions mirroring Maki's concern. "If you need anything, just let us know," Yuta said.

You nodded, offering a half-hearted smile. "Thanks, guys. I'll catch up with you later."

As you hurried out of the auditorium, your mind raced. What could they possibly want to discuss about the surgery? And why now? Was this about Satoru?

The walk to the director's office felt like an eternity, each step echoing your growing anxiety. The campus around you was bathed in sunlight, the sun burning on your skin. Students laughed and chatted around you. You wanted to shut them up.

Reaching the office, you took a moment to compose yourself before knocking. The door swung open, revealing Geto and Satoru seated in front of the director's expansive desk.

"Please, come in," director Yaga gestured for you to enter.

Director Yaga moved to sit behind his desk, his face unreadable. You took a deep breath and stepped inside. Satoru rose from his chair as you approached to offer you the seat. 

Stupid Satoru, why he be so gentleman after all.

As you sat down, Satoru remained standing next to you. His hand rested on the back of your chair.

Director Yaga adjusted his glasses, his gaze sharp. "I've called this meeting to address concerns regarding the recent surgery," he stated. "It has come to my attention that you, rather than Dr. Gojo, performed the operation. I would like an explanation."

You felt a lump form in your throat, your mind racing to find the right words. Before you could answer, Satoru spoke.

"Director, I assure you, the decision to let her lead was entirely professional. Her capabilities made her the best choice for this surgery."

Director Yaga's gaze hardened as he turned to Gojo. "Dr. Gojo, may I ask you, are you out of your mind? There are protocols and hierarchies in place for a reason. Allowing a student to lead such a critical procedure is not only unconventional—it's downright mad. This could have serious consequences."

"Director, I understand your concern. However, I made this decision not only because of her exceptional skills, but also to promote her potential. It was a calculated risk, one I felt was necessary for her growth as a surgeon."

Wow. He lied very convincing.

Director Yaga seemed surprised for a second. "Promoting potential is one thing, being stupid is another, Dr. Gojo."

Gojo shifted slightly. It felt as if he moved a little more in front of you. 

At this point, Geto, who had been silent, spoke up. "I was aware of Dr. Gojo's decision and supported it. The success of the surgery speaks for itself and reflects the high level of training our students receive here. I'm sure the press will acknowledge this as well."

"Why must you two always cause me headaches?" Director Yaga sighed, rubbing his temples wearily. "Nevertheless, the media coverage has been overwhelmingly positive. It seems the press is quite taken with the story of the 'unconventional surgeon duo' at our university."

"In light of this, there will be a press conference next week to celebrate the success and highlight the university's advances in medical research. I expect the three of you to attend. It's an excellent opportunity to showcase our institution's capabilities and your work," Yaga continued.

The idea of a press conference made you sick. 

You did not want any of this. You did not want praise for something you did out of necessity. The thought of facing the media and answering questions about the surgery made you sick.

Geto's expression tightened. "And to gather more funds for the university, I assume?"

Director Yaga met Geto's gaze squarely. "You understand the game, Dr. Geto. Positive publicity translates to funding opportunities. And let's not forget, it's funding that enables us to pursue advanced research and provide top-tier education."

Director Yaga leaned a bit more over his desk. "Especially given the... unconventional methods you two seem to prefer. Remember, such reckless gambles come at a cost."

Geto exhaled deeply. "Understood, Director. We'll be there."

As the meeting concluded and you stood to leave, Director Yaga added, "This is a great moment for all of us. Let's make sure we present ourselves in the best way possible."

As soon as the door to Director Yaga's office closed behind you, you wanted noting more than to leave.

Looking at him hurt.

"We'll talk later, Geto," you said abruptly.

Geto nodded. "Take care."

You offered a quick, forced smile and hastily made your way down the corridor. Gojo made a move to follow. However, Geto reached out, placing a hand on his shoulder to halt him. "Let her go, Satoru," Geto said quietly. "She needs some time alone."

Gojo stopped. He watched helplessly as you disappeared around the corner.

─── ·✧· ───

Later that day, you found yourself in the university's library, surrounded by books and notes, with Toge, Maki, and Yuta. Your friends had been tiptoeing around the subject since the morning, but their curiosity about the surgery was so obvious.

"So," Maki started cautiously, "what did Director Yaga want to talk about? Was it about the surgery?"

You felt a chill at her question. "Oh, it was just some standard follow-up stuff. Nothing important."

Yuta leaned in. "But you were great in that surgery. Everyone's talking about it. You should be proud of yourself."

You forced a smile. "I am, Yuta. More or less. I just don't like the spotlight."

Toge chimed in, "Pressure."

"Yeah, exactly," you agreed.

Maki observed you closely. "And how are things with Dr. Handsome? Everything okay there?" 

You felt a lump form in your throat. "Everything's fine."

However, Maki didn't seem convinced. "You know you can talk to us, right? If something's bothering you—"

Yeah, you wished you could do that. But the reality was that you couldn't.

"It's complicated, Maki," you said softly.

Maki's frown deepened. "You know, whatever it is, don't let him get to you too much. He's just a man after all."

You knew Maki meant well, but it wasn't as simple as she made it out to be.

"Maki, it's just—"

"I get that something's going on, but remember, no matter how great a surgeon he is, or how charming he is, you are the real star of this surgery. Don't let anyone, not even Dr. Handsome, mess with that," Maki added.

You looked at her, your lips twitching upwards. "Thanks, Maki."

Exhausted, you let your forehead rest against the cool surface of the desk. "There's going to be a press conference about the surgery," you said, your voice muffled. "A celebration or something. And honestly, I'm already hating it."

Yuta perked up at this. "A press conference? That's huge! You're basically a celebrity now."

"I'd rather just focus on my studies and not be in the spotlight like this."

"Hey, think of it this way—it's a great chance to show off your talent. Plus, I heard the medical faculty is throwing a party afterward," Yuta said.

Maki nudged you playfully. "Come on, it might be fun. We'll wait for you at the afterparty when your conference thing is done."

You raised your head and rested your chin on your hand, considering their words. "Well, a party doesn't sound too bad, I guess."

Maki clapped her hands together. "That's more like it! We'll make sure you have a good time."

"Exactly!" Yuta said, grinning.

"Party!" Toge added.

A small smile crept onto your face as you looked at your friends. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad after all. Besides, as the saying goes, a little party never killed nobody, right? 

... right?

─── ·✧· ───

"Here, for your nerves," Geto said, handing you a glass of champagne.

"Thanks." You grabbed the glass and downed the bubbling liquid in one gulp. "This is quite a place."

You and Geto entered the conference venue. 

The main foyer had soaring ceilings adorned with dazzling crystal chandeliers, casting a soft light on the marble floors below. The crowd, a blend of famous medical professionals, university staff and press people, mingled in groups, all engaged in animated discussions that filled the grand space with a lively hum. 

"Remember, just stay calm and be yourself," Geto whispered as you both moved through the crowd. "You've earned your place here tonight." Then he handed you another glass of champagne, fetched from a passing waiter.

You nodded, trying to suppress the urge to flee.

The room was filled with faces, some familiar and others new. The conference area was impeccably arranged, with a stage set up at one end of the hall for speeches and presentations. Press cameras lined the sidelines. Tables adorned with floral arrangements were spread throughout the room.

"All this for a single surgery?" you asked Geto as you scanned the room.

Geto swirled the champagne in his glass. "It's more than just the surgery. The university needs money, that's why we're here."

"Looks like they're spending more than they'll earn."

Geto subtly gestured with his glass towards an elderly woman across form you. "See her? She's one of our main benefactors. Director Yaga would do anything to please her. So, we dress up, exchange pleasantries, sip champagne, and in return, she continues her generous support. That's the deal."

Your gaze followed his. "So it's all about keeping the money flowing. They're not really here for the research behind the surgery."

"Does that surprise you?"

You took a sip of your champagne. "No. It makes me sick."

Goto let out a huff. "By the way, you look stunning tonight," he remarked, his eyes tracing your form, but it didn't feel uncomfortable.

You were dressed in a sleek, black dress. Black heels. Elegant but nothing special. You didn't want to draw more attention to yourself than you already were. 

Geto walked beside you, dressed in a meticulously tailored black suit that fit him perfectly. Beneath the suit, he wore a white dress shirt and a black silk tie. If you didn't know better, you could have been mistaken for a couple, given how matching your outfits were.

"You don't look to bad yourself."

He laughed. "Well, I'll take that as a compliment."

As you mingled with the guests, you could feel the curious glances and hushed tones of those around you. Word of your role in the successful surgery had obviously spread, and now you were the center of attention for the evening.

Geto stayed by your side the whole time, introducing you to important people and making sure your champagne glass was never empty. You weren't sure the latter was such a good idea. But it calmed your nerves.

You were deep in conversation with a group of medical professionals, discussing the surgery, when you suddenly felt the atmosphere changed. Your eyes swept over the crowd and there he was—Satoru Gojo had just walked in.

Every head in the room seemed to turn in his direction, yet his eyes seemed focused solely on one person. You weren't sure you knew how to breathe anymore as his gaze seemed to pierce through the crowd, settling directly on you. It was the first time you'd seen him since director Yaga's office.

He was dressed in a sharp black smoking jacket, his bow tie perfectly knotted. But his eyes looked tired. His lips parted ever so slightly.

One of the medical professionals from another University in your group—her name was something with Tsukomu, or Tsukumo? You didn't quite get it—waved him over. "Ah, there's the star of the evening," she exclaimed.

Satoru made his way through the crowd. As he reached your group, he positioned himself next to you as if it were the most natural thing in the world—as if he belonged there.

"Dr. Gojo, we were just discussing your remarkable surgery," Dr. Tsukumo said enthusiastically. "Your work is truly groundbreaking in our field."

"Thank you, Dr. Tsukumo. However, I must clarify that the true credit goes to this talented surgeon," he said, placing a hand on your shoulder. You wanted to break his arm.

She laughed uncomfortable. "It's rather unusual for a student to lead such a complex surgery. Quite an unconventional approach, don't you think?"

"Unconventional, but successful," Satoru replied sharply. "Here at Tokyo University, we rather encourage innovation. Perhaps your institution wouldn't be so terrible at research if you were willing to take more risks?"

Silence.

God, what was he doing!?

Was he high again??

You looked up at him, his gaze fixed on Dr. Tsukumo. Even in heels, he was still at least a head taller than you. But he didn't seem to be high or something. He seemed clear.

Dr. Tsukumo's eyes narrowed slightly. "Well, Dr. Gojo, that's quite a statement. But you know, there's a fine line between taking risks and just being plain reckless."

His hand still resting on your shoulder, Satoru met her gaze squarely. "You're absolutely right. There is a fine line, and you'd be well advised not to cross it," he replied. "In this case, though, it was a calculated decision based on her proven skill, not recklessness. Sometimes embracing innovation and trusting our young talents is what drives progress, don't you think?"

Geto leaned in. "Satoru, that's enough," he murmured.

Satoru removed his hand from your shoulder and stepped back from the group. His eyes briefly met yours. "Excuse me," Satoru said curtly, before turning and making his way through the crowd.

Your eyes followed him until you could no longer see him.

As the evening wore on, one conversation blended into another.

Wow, you're so young? Already performing surgeries? How did you manage that? You must be a natural talent!

You heard it over and over—answered the same questions over and over. No one really seemed to care about the details of your work, the thought process behind it, or how the patient is doing now—or how one patient had to die for the surgery to be successful.

Recognizing your discomfort, Geto suggested, "Let's step outside for a bit. I could use a smoke." 

Following him, you left the bustling conference hall and ventured out to the quieter grounds surrounding the building. The cool night air was a welcome contrast to the warmth and buzz of the event inside. The building's exterior was illuminated with soft lights, casting a serene glow over the surroundings. 

Geto pulled out a cigarette and lit it. He took a long drag before exhaling slowly. "You're doing well in there," he said, glancing at you. "Don't fret too much about it. We're just here to keep the university happy."

"Is that all?" You retorted. "Putting on fake smiles for director Yaga's sake, so the university gets positive publicity, while no one mentions how much effort it took, or that one patient had to die before it became a success?" You sighed. "This all feels like a cruel joke to me."

"Welcome to the world of research," Geto said, taking another drag of his cigarette.

"Why do you even stay in research then?" 

Geto paused, the smoke swirling around him. "Why? I wonder that sometimes too."

You watched him for a moment, seeing the tension in his shoulders ease somewhat as he took another drag from his cigarette. Geto, catching your scrutinizing gaze, said, "Don't look at me like that. I'm not the addict you should be worried about."

You turned your gaze away.

After a few seconds of silence, Geto flicked his cigarette away and turned to you. "You want to leave?"

You took a deep breath. "I do," you said, but then shook your head. "But I promised to go to the after-party with my friends, so I'm staying until then."

"An after-party, huh?" He snuffed out the remaining embers of his cigarette.

Upon re-entering the conference hall, the lively chatter and clinking of glasses continued. A waiter passed by, and without much thought, you reached out to take another glass of champagne.

It was your seventh or eighth glass—you had lost count. 

But alcohol was the only way you could get through another hour of talking about how brilliantly you did the surgery. Oh, how you hated it. Because you did not do it brilliantly, you did it because you had no other choice. That's a completely different thing.

As you chatted with Geto and a journalist, a waiter passed by with a tray of drinks. Your ninth glass. However, before your fingers could grasp it, a hand from behind swiftly intercepted the glass.

"How many drinks have you had already?"

Of course.

You turned around to find yourself gazing into Satoru's striking blue eyes. Geto, meanwhile, continued to skillfully handle the press. "It's none of your concern," you said to him.

"Don't be stupid. You should seriously stop drinking now, otherwise you will soon lose—"

"Lose what? Control?" you cut him off sharply. "Isn't that a bit hypocritical, coming from you?"

He ran a hand through his hair, the strands now slightly disheveled. "That's not what I'm saying," he replied, his voice softening. "I just... I don't want to see you making decisions you'll regret."

"Like revealing your precious secret?"

His jaw clenched. "Go ahead, if that's what you want. But what I'm concerned about right now is you, not me."

"Who are you trying to fool here, Satoru?"

The sound of a throat being cleared snapped you back to reality. Geto and the journalist had paused their conversation, their attention now squarely on the two of you. 

You avoided Satoru's gaze. "Excuse me for a moment," you muttered, hastily excusing yourself towards the bathroom. The door had barely clicked shut when it swung open again, and Satoru slipped inside, locking it behind him.

You spun around. "Satoru, what do you think you're doing?"

"We need to talk."

"I don't want to talk, Satoru. Not now. Not ever!"

"Are you planning to avoid me forever?"

"Seems like a good plan to me!"

Satoru took a step closer. "I know I've put you in an difficult situation, but—"

"Difficult situation?" you said, your voice rising with every word. "Do you even realize how much pressure you've put me under? Fuck, Satoru I had to lead that surgery because you were fucking high! Satoru, you're an addict!"

Satoru looked pained. "I know, and I'm sorry for that. But I have it under control."

"Control?" you scoffed. "You call that control? Satoru, that was the most important day. The only day you were supposed to get your goddamn act together! And you say something about control? You even hear yourself? You can be high on any other fucking day, but not when we operate on a fucking teenager!"

He was silenced.

Your voice cracked as you continued, "Do you even realize how scared I was?"

His brows furrowed slightly as the words left your lips. The intensity in his blue eyes was unsettling, and there was a vulnerability in his gaze that you had never seen before. You weren't used to seeing him like this, and it left you feeling strangely vulnerable yourself. 

Still, you pressed further.

"You made me do it. Because you have no control over it. So don't tell me anything about control or that I'm drinking too much when it's just my way of dealing with the damage you've done to me."

"I never meant to hurt you," Satoru said. "But I knew you could do it. I wouldn't have let you lead the surgery if I wasn't sure about that."

"That's not an excuse Satoru. It was wrong and you know it. You left me no choice. I don't know what sick game you're playing with me, but it has to stop."

"Game?" His voice rose. "You think this is a game for me?"

You flinched back slightly, the intensity in his tone catching you off guard.

He took a few steps closer. "You just don't get it, do you?"

"Get what?"

"You consume me!" he blurted out, his voice raw. "I had it under control, I was stable until you came into my life! But now, you're all I can think about!"

"Don't make this about me," you countered sharply.

"That day, I was more nervous than I had ever been in my life," he continued, almost pleadingly, "because I knew that if this surgery failed, it would hurt you—it would kill you, and it would end the research once and for all. And I couldn't bear the thought of you crying again. Not because of me."

"You're just finding excuses."

"Oh, sweetheart, I wish it was. But it's the truth." He closed the gap between you. "God, I can't think clearly when I'm around you! I can't sleep without thinking about you! All there is is the need to be near you, and nothing ever compares to that."

This can't be real.

He could never feel this way about you.

Because someone who would feel that way would never do what he did.

"You're lying." You stepped back, your spine hitting the cold wall behind you. But he was quick to close the distance between you again.

"You're not believing me?" His eyebrow arched in question. In a swift motion, he pulled you close to him, one hand around your waist, the other gripping your jaw between his thumb and fingers. You gasped at the sudden force.

"You need proof?" he said, his words a mere prelude to the searing kiss that followed. Your eyelids fluttered closed as the immediate surge of heat and adrenaline coursed through your body. 

He pressed you against the wall, his body molded against yours. You could clearly feel the intensity of his emotions, the raw need in his movements. His frustration, his desire, his confusion—all were laid bare in that kiss.

"You drive me fucking insane," he breathed against your lip. His tongue brushed against your lips, seeking entry, and you eagerly granted it. Without hesitation, his tongue boldly delved into your mouth. Your lips melded against his, causing you to moaned into his mouth.

His hand moved to your hair, grasping it, forcing your head back to deepen the kiss. His mouth covered yours, demanding more, you could barely catch your breath. You were hot all over. He tasted so good. He felt so good.

You were acutely aware of every point where your bodies touched, the pressure of his weight against you, the force of his grip in your hair. His touch was like fire on your skin, igniting a yearning you couldn't contain. Your arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him closer still.

You hated him.

You tried to remember that, but all good reason left you as his lips moved over your cheeks, trailing down your jaw to your neck. You found yourself giving in to the sensations, arching your neck to give him better access. His grip on your hair tightened.

Fuck, you hated him.

He lied to you.

You hated him.

Right?

Your fingers clutched at his shirt, desperate for more contact. Satoru's hands slid down your sides to hike up the hem of your dress. In a swift motion, he lifted you, your legs instinctively wrapping around his waist as he pressed you against the wall.

The friction of his body between your legs was maddening. You could clearly feel the hard outline of him. Your breathing grew ragged, your back arching further, grinding yourself against his hardness.

"Take them off," you muffled against his lips.

Satoru pulled back, leaving a trail of saliva that briefly connected your parted lips. "What?" he gasped, his half-lidded eyes searching yours.

"Your pants," you panted.

He smirked. Without warning, he spun you around and set you down on the marble counter of the sink. The coolness of the marble beneath you contrasted sharply with the heat of his body pressed against yours.

His lips found yours again, fierce and possessive, as if staking his claim. His hands pushed your dress further up, exposing more of your skin to his touch. He didn't break the kiss as he began to undo his belt, the clinking sound of the buckle sending shivers down your spine. 

His hand gripped your hips, his fingers slipping under the silk strap of your underwear. With a deft twist, he wound his fingers in the fabric and pulled them down. He gripped your hips and pulled you close to him.

"Might want to cover your mouth," he whispered against your lips.

Without another word, he positioned himself and pushed all the way inside. You bit down on your lip as you tried to stifle a scream from the sudden stretch, feeling every inch of him fill you up. The sensation was both painful and exhilarating, causing you to tighten around him. 

You clung to his neck, your chest pressed firmly against his. "Fuck... Satoru."

"Shh." He placed a hand over your mouth. "Quiet, sweetheart."

He withdrew, teasingly brushing the tip against your entrance as if to savor the feeling of your dampness coating him. Then he slammed back into you again, causing you to accidentally bite down on his hand. He didn't flinch.

Your mind emptied of all thoughts as he drove deeper and harder into you, leaving only the sensation of his thickness filling you completely.

He picked up speed, pumping his hips into yours with increasing urgency. With each deep plunge into your core, you felt yourself being stretched impossibly wide—felt his cock hit bottom again and again.

Every move he made felt so good, too good—as if he knew your body better than you did yourself.

He shifted his stance, lifting one of your legs over his shoulder. You leaned back against the cold marble countertop, letting go of everything else as he changed the angle of his hips, hitting spots that instantly made your legs tremble.

You cursed, the sound dying away under his palm. You cursed yourself for doing this and cursed him for making you feel so fucking good.

Your stomach tightened and you could feel an orgasm building dangerously fast. The sound of the mirror behind you shaking grew louder, echoing through the room. But all you could focus on was the man between your legs, driving into you with a ferocity that left you breathless.

"Turn around," he ordered, having already swung you around halfway. He placed a hand on your back and pushed you down onto the counter. Your heated skin touched the cold marble. You stared at your reflection, taking in your glazed eyes and swollen lips. 

Satoru locked briefly eyes with you through the mirror. "Keep quiet, will you?"

You clamped your own hand over your mouth, not trusting yourself to keep quiet. His eyes burned into yours as he continued his thrusts. Slowly this time, driving his cock into you inch by inch until he was buried to the hilt. You moaned into your hand.

"Fuck," he gasps, his eyes closed and brows etched in pain. "You feel so good."

Satoru pulled out and pressed back into you again, your entire being quivered with pleasure. You clenched your hand tightly over your mouth, biting down on your palm to stifle the sounds wanting to escape. Every muscle tightened.

With each thrust, he did pause briefly at the tip of your entrance, teasing your senses with anticipation, before pushing further, burying himself deeper and deeper into your core, filling you completely. It was like he was savoring every second as if this was the first and only time he could fuck you.

Your head hung heavy, your hair cascading down your forehead. Every nerve ending in your body came alive as he hit all the right spots, coaxing you closer and closer to your orgasm.

He quickened his pace again, pounding into you with a frenzied urgency that left you gasping for air. With each hard thrust, his cock pulse inside you, driving himself harder and faster towards release. Your limbs went weak as you surrendered fully to the pleasure.

And then, suddenly, everything exploded into blinding white light, consuming you whole as you cried out, muffled against your palm. Your entire body convulsed in pleasure.

"You're so fucking tight," Satoru hissed as you clenched around him. He followed close behind, his body convulsing as he released inside you, filling you completely. He collapsed against you, panting and shivering as he tried to catch his breath.

You opened your eyes, meeting Satoru's gaze through the mirror. For several moments, neither of you spoke, just gazing into each other's eyes as you felt the slow drip of his cum running down your inner thigh.

You watched the slight rise and fall of his chest as he regained his composure, the muscles in his arms tensing and relaxing subtly. His ragged breath filled the room. It stopped only for a moment as he pressed a tender kiss to your back.

Then, he pulled out of you, causing a faint wince.

"Fuck—This is...," he started, but words seemed to fail him. He ran a hand through his hair and shook his head slightly, as if trying to clear his thoughts. He stepped back, pulled up his pants, and straightened his disheveled suit.

Yeah. Fuck.

In the sudden absence of adrenaline and desire, the reality of what had happened hit you hard.

What you had just done.

With whom you had done it.

Fuck, he was your professor. And even worse, an addict. What were you thinking?

You felt a knot tighten in your stomach.

"Did I hurt you?" Satoru's voice cut through your thoughts.

His question surprised you. As if physical hurt was the worst thing in the chaos of what had happened. Even though his firm grip on your hips would surely leave marks.

"I'm fine." You pushed off the marble counter, hastily pulling your dress down and fixing your tousled hair. 

Fuck.

Your mind raced as you watched him.

He adjusted his bow tie, his breathing still labored. His muscles quivered subtly. A thin layer of sweat glistened on his skin, making his white hair cling slightly to his forehead. When his eyes met yours you saw a vulnerability in his gaze that made your heart ache.

You looked away.

Fuck.

"I need a drink," you said, more to yourself than to him. You needed space, time to think, to process. Without waiting for a response, you unlocked the bathroom door and stepped out, leaving Satoru behind. "What? Wait!"

The bright lights and lively chatter of the conference washed over you as you emerged. The noise and the crowd felt like a tidal wave, engulfing you as you navigated through the sea of elegantly dressed attendees.

Spotting a waiter carrying a tray of sparkling glasses, you reached out to take one. But before you could grasp a glass, you felt a firm grip on your wrist. You spun around to find Satoru right behind you, his expression grave.

"I think you've had enough to drink for tonight," he said in a low voice.

"I don't need you to monitor my alcohol intake, Satoru," you snapped, trying to free your wrist from his hold.

As he was about to argue further, your conversation was abruptly halted by the approach of an elegantly poised older woman. Satoru's grip loosened, and he turned towards her with a noticeable shift in demeanor.

"Mother," Satoru greeted her dryly.

Mother?

Mother?

You stood there, momentarily baffled.

His mother was dressed in an elegant dark blue evening gown that clung to her slender figure, adorned with lace and sequins. Her white hair was immaculately coiffed and cascaded down her back in soft waves.

She had steel-gray eyes that looked like a faded shade of Satoru's striking blue eyes. But there was no warmth to them as her scrutinizing gaze traveled up and down your frame. Her left eyebrow raised slightly. It made your skin crawl.

"Satoru," she greeted him in a tone that matched his.

"I can't say I expected you to show up here," Satoru replied.

She surveyed him with a critical eye, her lips set in a thin line. "Why must you always greet me with such coldness, Satoru? I am here to celebrate your success, after all."

"Yeah, I'm sure that's the reason."

Subtly, Satoru shifted closer to you, almost as if to shield you from her piercing scrutiny. Yet, her focus remained on you. "And who is this? The talented young surgeon I've heard rumors about, or simply another one of my son's fleeting amusements?"

You bristled slightly at her insinuation.

Satoru's jaw clenched visibly. "That's enough."

"Oh, Satoru, don't be shy," she waved a dismissive hand. "She's a pretty one."

„She's talented," Satoru said.

"Oh, even worse," she mused, taking a sip of her wine. "Let's see how long this lasts. But please, Satoru, try to keep the family's dignity."

Satoru's patience was visibly wearing thin. "Shut it, mother."

His mother laughed. "One last thing, darling," she said, turning back to you. Her hand extended towards you. "Your lipstick is slightly smeared. Next time, do try to be more subtle about your affair with my son."

Satoru's reaction was immediate. "Get your hands away from her," he warned sharply, swiftly intercepting his mother's hand before it could reach you.

"Mrs. Gojo, what a pleasant surprise to see you here."

You turned your head to the familiar voice and saw Geto approaching with a courteous smile. Satoru's mother turned to him. "Mr. Geto, always the charmer," she responded, her tone suddenly devoid of all coldness.

Geto flashed a bewitching smile. "I was hoping to have a word with you. Could I steal you away for a moment?"

With a curt nod, Satoru's mother agreed. "Of course. Satoru, we will talk later." She cast one last pointed glance in your direction before allowing Geto to guide her away.

As they walked off, Satoru exhaled deeply, the tension in his shoulders easing. "You're not the only one with a complicated mother."

Somehow, Satoru's addiction was no longer that surprising.

You quickly touched up your lipstick. "She's a bitch."

Satoru gave a wry smile. "She is."

At that moment, your phone buzzed with a new message. You glanced at the screen.

[10:44 PM] Yuta: Hey, we're all at the afterparty. You coming?

Without saying anything, you turned to leave, but Satoru's grip on your wrist stopped you once more. "Where are you going?"

"I'm heading to the afterparty."

Satoru raised an eyebrow. "I thought you weren't much of a party person."

"Well, I might have changed that," you retorted, attempting to pull your wrist free.

"I don't think that's a good idea."

"Too bad you don't get to decide that."

"Don't be stupid. I'll bring you home."

"Stop it, Satoru! You have no right to care about me. I don't want you to care about me! Now let me go!"

You could see the hurt in his eyes at your words. But he released your wrist. "Please, don't do this to me," he murmured, almost pleading.

"Like you forced me to do that surgery?" Your words felt like blades in your throat.

Satoru fell silent.

Without another word, you turned and walked away. You didn't look back.

─── ·✧· ───

The pulsating beats of the club greeted you as you stepped inside. The rhythmic bass of the music pulsed through the floor, vibrating up through your feet. It was overwhelming, yet oddly calming.

Your friends were already there, somewhere amidst the sea of bodies lost in the music. Pushing through the crowd, you scanned the area for familiar faces. The club was packed. Laughter and conversations melded with the music. The sweet scent of alcohol filled the air.

Eventually, you spotted your friends huddled near the bar. As you approached, they waved you over. "There you are!" Maki shouted over the music. "We were starting to think you'd stood us up!"

You forced a smile. "Wouldn't miss this for the world," you replied, trying to sound more upbeat than you felt.

Yuta leaned in, his eyes curious. "How'd the conference go?"

"Nothing special happened. Let's just have fun tonight," you shrugged off his question. You didn't want to delve into the shitty evening you had, not here, not now, not ever.

Turning to the bar, you ordered a drink, something strong and quick. The bartender slid a glass towards you, and you downed it in one smooth motion. The liquid burned its way down your throat, momentarily stealing your breath.

Maki raised an eyebrow. "Wow, going hard tonight?"

"Just catching up," you said.

"So, what's the story? Did Dr. Handsome finally realize he's madly in love with you? Come on, there's gotta be some steamy OR drama you're hiding from us."

Her words slurred just a bit. She clearly had a few drinks already.

"You're just imagining things, Maki."

"Well, can you blame me?" Maki laughed. "Every time you two are in the same room, it's like watching a drama unfold. The tension, the glances—come on, spill it!"

Toge nodded in agreement.

You rolled your eyes. "Trust me, it's far from that."

Yuta jumped in. "Come on Maki, don't push her. We're here to have fun, remember?"

Maki punched Yuta's arm. "Oh, like you're not dying to know too!"

The group laughed, and for a moment, you allowed yourself to be swept up in their infectious energy. You all moved to the dance floor, where the pulsing rhythm of the club's music enveloped you completely. The bass reverberated through your body.

Surrounded by the crowd, you found yourself moving to the beat. You clearly felt the effects of the alcohol, a pleasant buzz that dulled your worries. But here, in the midst of a sea of bodies, those worries felt distant, as if they belonged to another life.

It allowed you to lose yourself, to forget, if only for a while. The heat of the crowd, the scent of sweat and perfume, the sensation of being surrounded yet utterly alone in your thoughts—it was intoxicating.

Your friends were nearby, also lost in the moment. Maki's laughter rang out, clear and carefree, cutting through the music. Yuta performed a series of hilariously exaggerated dance moves. 

At one point, he attempted a robot dance, his limbs moving in jerky, mechanical motions that made everyone burst out laughing. Toge even joined in and added his own twist to the robot dance.

You laughed. You laughed so hard like you haven't in a long time, the stress and worries of the day momentarily forgotten. And you were so grateful to them, even if they didn't know what was going on.

You ordered a round of shots for the group. Coming back to your friends group, you all gathered in a small circle, holding up the small glasses.

"To friendship and unforgettable nights!" Maki toasted.

The shots went down with a burning kick.

As the night continued in a whirlwind of music and laughter, you noticed a young man weaving his way through the crowd towards you. 

He had a confident stride, a slight smile playing on his lips. In his hands, he carried two shots. You recognized him as a fellow medical student from the university, though his name escaped you in the moment.

"Hey there," he greeted, offering you one of the shots. "Thought you might need a refill."

You accepted the shot with a smile. "Thanks, stranger."

He chuckled. "Well, we're not exactly strangers. I've seen you around university. Your beauty is pretty hard to miss."

"You have a way with words, don't you?"

"Just speaking the truth," he replied smoothly, raising his glass for a toast. "To a good night."

Glasses clinked, and you both downed the shots, the liquid heat spreading a pleasant warmth through you.

The conversation flowed effortlessly, his charm and easygoing nature making it easy to talk. He asked about your interests outside of medicine, and you found yourself sharing bits and pieces about your life against the backdrop of the party's rhythmic music.

Every so often, your eyes drifted to your friends, ensuring they were still within sight. They seemed to be enjoying themselves, occasionally glancing over to check on you.

As the song changed, the young man extended his hand. "How about we take this conversation to the dance floor?"

You hesitated for a moment, a brief image of Satoru flashed through your mind, but you quickly dismissed it, drowning out any thoughts of him. "Sure, why not?" you said with a smile, as he dragged you away from your friends.

The music and the rhythm of the dance floor were momentarily exhilarating, but as you moved to the beat, an unsettling sensation began to take hold. The lights of the club began to blur, and the pulsing music seemed muffled, as if you were underwater.

A wave of nausea swept over you, and your surroundings began to feel surreal and disconnected.

He leaned in closer, placing a hand on your waist. "You want to go outside?"

You flinched slightly. His touch felt awful. You didn't want him to touch you.

Not him. 

"No, I'm... I'm going to the bathroom real quick." Your voice sounded alarmingly faint and distant to yourself.

"Should I come with you?"

You shook your head, trying to clear the fog that seemed to envelop your thoughts.

Somehow it became hard to push through the crowd. Your legs barely moved at your command. Everything felt muffled. As if the sounds and lights around you weren't really reaching you anymore.

Stumbling slightly, you made your way toward the exit instead to the bathroom, each step feeling heavier than the last. Once outside, the cool night air hit you, but it did little to ease your spinning head. 

The world around you seemed to tilt and sway, the bright lights of the club's exterior sign blurring into streaks of color. You leaned against the building for support, trying to steady yourself.

This is not normal.

Something was very wrong.

Could it have been the drink?

Fuck.

Phone.

Where was your phone?

You needed to call someone.

You fumbled for your phone, wanting to call your friends who were still inside the club. Your fingers felt clumsy and uncoordinated as you tried to unlock the screen, the icons dancing before your eyes.

After several failed attempts, you finally managed to dial Maki's number. You pressed the phone to your ear, each ring echoing distantly, as if coming from far away. "Come on, Maki, please pick up," you whispered under your breath.

Maki didn't answer.

Yuta didn't answer either.

Neither did Toge.

The loud music in the club probably drowned out the sound of their phone.

Fuck.

Panic set in. You knew you couldn't go back into the club in your current state, not with the risk of running into that guy again who probably put something in your drink.

You scrolled through your contacts with trembling hands, your vision swimming. Then, without a second thought, you dialed a number. The phone barely had time to ring before he answered.

You let out a shaky breath, not sure what to say only his name escaped your lips in a whisper, "Satoru..."

That was all he needed to hear.

All he ever needed to hear.

"Where are you?" He said without missing a beat.

"I'm outside the club... I think someone drugged my drink," you stammered, struggling to keep your thoughts coherent. "Everything's spinning, I can't..."

"Stay right there. I'm coming," Satoru cut in. "Don't move, and tell me exactly where you are."

You gave him the best description you could manage of your location, your words slurring and overlapping as the world around you spun out of control. Satoru continued to talk to over the phone, telling you to hang on, that he was on his way, but his voice seemed to fade in and out. 

Time seemed to lose its meaning. 

The moments stretched on, each one feeling longer than the last. You were vaguely aware of voices and the sounds of the city around you, but they felt distant.

Then, abruptly, a familiar presence cut through the fog.

Without saying anything, Satoru's arms gently lifted you from the ground. He held you close, the warmth of his body a soothing presence as he carried you towards his car. The world seemed to spin and blur around you. Clinging to his neck, you managed a faint whisper, "Satoru..."

"It's okay, you're safe now," he assured you in a calm voice.

Reaching his car, Satoru settled you into the passenger seat of his car, securing the seatbelt around you. Sliding into the driver's seat, he started the engine. You felt his car begin to move. His hand rested on your thigh.

You twisted uncomfortably in the seat, fighting the nausea that threatened to overwhelm you.

"Hang on, we're almost there," Satoru said.

The drive felt surreal, the city lights passing by in a dreamlike blur. When the car finally came to a stop, you realized that you weren't at your apartment. "Where are we?"

"We're at my place," Satoru unbuckled his seatbelt. "You think I would leave you alone after you got drugged?"

"No, I'm fine," you protested weakly, though your body betrayed you with its unsteadiness. Satoru was already at your side, lifting you into his arms once again with gentle care. As he carried you from the car to his apartment, your head spun, and your protests faltered. "I'm fine, Satoru, I really..."

He glanced down at you. "Don't be stupid."

You wanted to argue more, but the dizziness made it hard to focus. Reluctantly, you allowed him to carry you inside. Maybe, even let yourself fall more into his embrace.

Once inside, Satoru carefully set you down on the couch in his living room. In the next second, he was kneeling in front of you and removed your heels. You flinched slightly at the touch of his hands on your ankles.

"You really don't have to do this—"

"Stop it, already. And let me take care of you," he replied, his tone leaving no room for argument.

You sighed and lay back on the couch, your body feeling strangely heavy.

"Wait a second," he then said and went into his kitchen. You rolled over to your side on the couch, still everything spun. You reached for a cushion and laid your head on it, legs curling up to your chest. You tried your best to not throw up on his expensive looking furniture.

Your eyes wandered around Satoru's apartment. 

The open living area was spacious and airy, with large windows that let in the soft glow of the city lights. The walls were adorned with a piece of art, abstract in design, with bold strokes and vibrant colors that perhaps cost as much as your entire university tuition.

Your gaze drifted to a bookshelf lined with medical books and journals. On one shelf were several trophies lined up, each one gleaming under the soft lighting. As you focused on them, it became clear that they were from basketball matches. 

Then Satoru returned with a glass of water. "I didn't realize you were that good at basketball," you said, trying to distract yourself from the nausea.

Satoru followed your gaze and a slight smile crossed his face. "Yeah, I was not that bad."

He sat down on the couch beside you, and handed you the water. "This should help," he said revealing a few pills in his other hands.

"What are these?" you asked as you pushed yourself up a bit. 

"They help you get off whatever it is in your bloodline."

Hm. 

He must know, right?

Was it wrong to think that you were glad to know someone who was an addict when you were being drugged yourself?

Anyway, you took the glass of water and swallowed the pills.

Satoru watched you for a moment, before standing up and walking over to the kitchen again. As he returned, he had donned a pair of gloves and was carrying a syringe.

"Wait, what's that for?" you asked, eyeing the syringe.

"Hold out your arm to me," Satoru ordered as he sat down beside you. "I want to take a blood sample and run some tests."

God, always the doctor.

Reluctantly, you extended your arm.

Satoru's touch was gentle as he skillfully found a vein and drew a small sample of blood. "There, all done," he said, applying a small bandage to the puncture site. "I'll get this to the lab first thing in the morning."

Satoru tore off the gloves. "How are you feeling?"

"The room's not spinning as much," you said. "Thank you."

He reached out, gently cupping your face with one hand, his thumb softly tracing your cheek. "Did you see who gave you the drink?"

"I don't remember his name... but he's from university. I've seen him around."

His expression hardened, his hand dropping away from your face. You watched as Satoru stood, the frustration evident in his movements. He began to loosen the bow tie of his suit he still wore.

"You're staying here tonight," he stated.

"I'm not sure if—" 

"You're staying, no arguments," he cut in firmly.

You shut your mouth.

He took off his suit jacket and threw it over a chair. Rolling up the sleeves of his shirt, he suggested, "You can borrow something to wear from my wardrobe," nodding towards a door across the room.

Yeah.

You wanted nothing more than to finally get rid of that dress.

It felt filthy.

Your whole body felt filthy.

You stood, but your weakened form betrayed you once more. Suddenly off-balance, you almost fell, but Satoru was there in an instant. He quickly wrapped his arm around you. 

You found yourself unexpectedly close to him. His lips hovered just an inch from yours. "You need help?"

"I'm—" you started, but the words caught in your throat as his gaze locked onto yours. "I'm fine."

For a moment, time seemed to stand still. Your lips lingered there, barely touching.

Slowly, he loosened his hold on you. "Call me if you need anything." 

With weak legs, you made your way to his bedroom. The moonlight streamed through the windows, casting a serene glow across the room. The bedroom was spacious with a large, comfortable looking bed dominating the space.

The room smelled like him.

You approached his wardrobe, which was open and neatly organized. As you browsed through his clothes, you couldn't help but notice that everything, from his shirts to his trousers, seemed to be expensive, each piece perfectly tailored.

It sure had its benefits when you were one of the most famous neurosurgeons.

Feeling a bit out of place among such expensive pieces, you reached for a pair of sweatpants and a soft cotton shirt. They were obviously his, likely to be oversized on you, but you couldn't help but notice his familiar scent lingering on them.

You threw the cloths on his bed and tried to change out of your dress. Your hands fumbled with the zipper at the back of your dress. You twisted and turned, trying to reach it, but it was no use. The zipper remained stubbornly just out of reach.

You considered just ripping it off for a second.

But then you took a deep breath.

"Satoru?" you called out.

After a brief pause, you heard his footsteps approaching the bedroom. You hadn't bothered to close the door. He appeared in the doorway, leaning casually against the frame. His eyes held a hint of amusement as he observed your struggle.

"It's this zipper... I can't get it," you said, turning to show him the back of your dress.

Satoru moved closer. "You know, that's a pretty lame excuse to get me into the bedroom." You felt a shiver run down your spine as his breath lightly brushed against your neck. Gently, he gathered your hair and swept it over your shoulder, exposing the length of your back. 

"Still, you're here," you whispered as he reached for the zipper and slowly pulled it down. Cold air hit your now exposed back.

"I'll always be there when you need me."

You inhaled sharply as you felt the dress loosen around you.

Satoru remained close to you. His warm hands reached up, brushing over your arms up to your shoulders. His fingers traced the thin straps of your dress, lingering just a moment too long, as if contemplating if he should slip them off your shoulders or not.

You didn't want him to slip them off.

Or not?

Or what was it you wanted?

In that moment, time seemed to pause. You both stood there, caught in a shared suspension, the room around you bathed in soft moonlight that filtered through the windows. The silence only broken by the sound of your heavy breathing. 

"You should get some rest," he murmured. "We can talk tomorrow."

No you didn't want to talk about it.

You didn't want to admit it.

You took a deep breath.

"I'm fine," you countered in a whisper. "I don't need to rest."

His lips drew nearer, and he placed tender kisses along your shoulder, igniting a trail of warmth that seemed to awaken every nerve in your body. His hands found your hips, anchoring you firmly to him.

"You should. It's been a long nigh."

Your heartbeat quickened. "Don't try to tell me what I need."

Satoru sighed. His lips continued their exploration, moving up your neck with a softness that belied his restraint. "Don't make this so hard," he murmured. "I'm trying to do the right thing here."

"It didn't seem to bother you too much in the bathroom earlier."

You turned around to face him. Satoru's hands found their way to the small of your back, pulling you closer still until you were pressed tightly against him.

"I know," he said, his voice strained. "And I'm sorry for that, we shouldn't have—"

"Stop, Satoru," you interrupted. "I don't want your apologies." 

He paused.

You swallowed hard. "I want you to make me forget this fucked up day."

"Not like this. You're drunk and also probably drugged," he said, but you could almost see his resolve wavering as he held you close, the contours of your bodies molding perfectly together. 

You exhaled softly, your gaze fixed on his lip. "I don't care."

Because you really didn't.

You needed him right now.

Needed the feeling of his skin on yours.

You knew it was wrong—using him like this was wrong, but you didn't care. Perhaps it was the drugs in your bloodline or the alcohol but you didn't care. You wanted him, craved the escape he—and only he—could offer you.

Satoru was close, so close that you could feel the warmth of his breath mingling with yours. The struggle in his eyes made it clear that he was losing whatever battle the rational side of him was waging. So, you waited—waited for him to lose against his self control.

"I get it, you're hurt. But this won't give you what you need and I won't use you like that."

The irony wasn't lost on you. Weren't you the one who was about to use him?

"Maybe I want you to use me?"

"God, what are you saying?" He almost trembled under the strain it took him to hold back, as his hand reached up to grasp the nape of your neck. "You'll regret his tomorrow. You'll hate me for this," he breathed out, pained.

"Then let me regret it, Satoru." Your fingers reaching up to slowly unbutton his shirt. His mouth hovered over yours, his lips grazing yours in a torturous almost-kiss, yet still maintaining that maddening distance.

"I don't care," you breathed, continuing to slowly unbutton his shirt.

As the last button was undone, the fabric of Satoru's shirt parted, revealing the well-defined muscles of his chest. Your fingertips grazed his skin, feeling the rapid beat of his heart beneath your touch. Satoru inhaled sharply.

"Listen, we can pretend what happened earlier in that bathroom was just a stupid mistake. I'm fine with that." His gaze dropped to your lips. "But we can't keep making the same 'mistake' and deny what's happening. If we cross that line again, it changes everything."

"I know. But I don't care. I can't...I need you."

With that, the last restraint he held shattered.

Satoru's lips finally found yours, igniting an immediate fire within you. 

His mouth moved hungrily against yours, deep and consuming. He didn't give you a second to catch your breath, but you didn't care. You didn't need air when you had him. 

You melted under his touch, surrendering completely. Your fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him closer, deepening the kiss even further. The heat of the moment consumed you, and all you could think of was him, the way he tasted, the way he felt, the way he made your heart race.

The world around you faded away. 

Slowly, deliberately, he began to undress you. "Tell me to stop," he said as his kisses trailed from your lips down to your neck. You closed your eyes, moaning softly at the way his touch made you feel alive.

You shook your head. "I want you."

"Please, tell me to stop," he said again, even as he slipped his shirt off from his shoulders, revealing a landscape of defined muscles across his shoulders, neck, and abdomen. His hands brushed over your body, taking in the curve of your hip bones and the smoothness of your skin.

In that moment, everything that had held you back—the fear, the hurt, the lies—crumbled into insignificance. There was only the undeniable truth of what you felt for each other, a connection that was as intense as it was complicated.

"I'm yours, Satoru," you whispered. "All yours. Do whatever you want to me."

He paused, locking eyes with you. "Is that what you want? What you need?"

Yes. A thousand times, yes.

Somehow this man in from of you had the power to let you forget every rational thought. And somehow you needed this right now—needed him to make you forget all the hurt, he partly is the reason for but still—you wanted nothing more than to be his in this very moment.

You nodded, unable to speak past the lump forming in your throat.

"Then I'll take care of you."

Without breaking contact, Satoru swept one arm beneath your ass while grasping your waist with the other. Your legs wrapped around him as he lifted you effortlessly off the ground. He carried you to the bed, before laying you down.

Your back pressed firmly against the mattress as Satoru followed, covering you completely. He leaned down and captured your lips in a slow, lingering kiss. His body molded perfectly to yours, as you traced your fingertips across the expanse of his exposed chest and toned abs.

Satoru pushed your thighs apart, spreading your legs wider. His finger wandered under the hem of your underwear, tracing torturous lines over your skin. You arched your back upward, silently begging for his touch.

He obliged, pushing your underwear aside and sliding one finger inside you. "Is that what you need?"

You moaned softly, as he delved further into your core. His movements were slow and deliberate, your breathing quickened, becoming shallow and rapid. "Yes...yes, please..." You arched your back, urging him further. 

His other hand slid beneath you, cupping your hip bone firmly. The sensation of his finger moving within you sent shivers coursing through your veins, igniting an intense fire deep in your core. You clutched at his hair. "More, Satoru."

His response was immediate. He slipped another finger inside you, stretching you wider. The sensation was overwhelming, leaving you helpless in his grasp.

Before long, his mouth met yours once again, taking control of the kiss as his thumb brushed gently against your clit. With every stroke of his fingers and flick of his thumb, you felt yourself growing increasingly close to the edge. 

"Tell me exactly what you want me to do to you, sweetheart," Satoru muttered against your lips as his fingers drove deep into you, burying themselves to the limit. Your grip on his hair tightened as you felt him hitting your core.

The sound of your breathless moans filled the room as Satoru's skilled hands worked their magic on your body, making you yearn for more. "You know what I want, Satoru...don't make me beg for it."

Satoru's lips trailed down your jawline and towards your neck. "Bit unfair, don't you think?" His teeth grazed your sensitive flesh, sending shivers down your spine as his finger continued to thrust into you. "Wanting me to fuck you, but not letting me tease you a bit about it?"

As he made his way further down your body, you closed your eyes, surrendering yourself entirely to the feeling of him inside you. He trailed kisses all over your body until he reached your parted legs, planting featherlight kisses along the sensitive skin of your inner thighs.

He smiled up at you, his dark eyes sparkling with wicked intent. "But don't worry, you don't have to say anything, I know exactly what you need." He positioned himself firmly between your legs. His hot breath against your clit, making you quiver with anticipation.

He pulled his fingers out of you briefly to pull down your underwear. Then, without warning, he plunged his tongue into your core, sending you reeling with pleasure. Each stroke of his tongue sent electric sparks shooting straight to your core. Moaning loudly, you writhing beneath him, urging him onward.

He delved deeper, suckling hungrily at your clit, his tongue leveling deeper into you. "Oh God, yes...please don't stop," you panted, gripping his hair tightly as he was buried between your legs.

"God, you taste so good." He pulled back his tongue, licking over your clit and inserting his two fingers again, pumping them vigorously in and out of you. "Can you take on more for me?"

You gasped as he pushed yet another finger into you, stretching you impossibly wide. But you couldn't help but crave more—more of the intense sensations coursing through every inch of your being.

His lips closed around your clit once more. He sucked hungrily, flicking his tongue against you as he curled his fingers inside you, hitting all the right spots in a way that left you gasping for breath. You tightened your grip on his hair. It must have hurt. But he didn't care.

With each passing second, your release drew nearer. He could feel it. He quickened his pace, pushing deeper and harder into you. "Come for me, sweetheart."

And then, without warning, it hit you. You cried out, your body shaking with the force of it all as he continued to suckle and thrust simultaneously, drawing out every last ounce of pleasure from your quivering frame.

"Stop, Satoru..." you panted as he continued to devour your oversensitive core with his mouth. Your legs trembled. It was too much—far too much. "Fuck, stop."

He pulled away from you and moved upwards. His lips brushed softly against yours, making you taste your own arousal. "Don't act like you can't take it," he murmured against your lips. "Wasn't that what you wanted?"

Your breath hitched as his eyes suddenly darkened. "You wanted me to make you forget about your fucked up day, remember?"

He pulled back, kneeling before you as he zipped open his pants and pushed them down along with his boxers, exposing his cock—pre-cum already leaking from the tip.

He lowered himself onto you again, pressing his erection against you. "You should be really careful of what you're asking for," he whispered into your ear.

Your heart skipped a beat as his hand found your throat, his grip tight. Yet, you couldn't help but crave more, wanting to surrender completely to his will. "Satoru, just...do me already," you gasped as his pressure on your throat increased.

He smirked. He knew exactly how much power he had over you.

And he liked it.

"You're so damn hot when you beg for more," he whispered against your lips.

Without warning, he surged forward, burying himself deep inside you, savoring each inch as you gasped and arched your back. You bit down on your lower lip, stifling a scream as he filled you completely, every inch of his length stretching you wide.

"Don't hold back, I want to hear you scream my name," he said as he began to move. His movements were rough and unforgiving, pounding into you relentlessly. You cried out his name, writhing underneath him as he took you without mercy.

You clawed at his shoulders, pulling him closer, begging for more. But he was in control here, and he loved the way you responded so eagerly to his every move. He paused suddenly, pulling almost all the way out before plunging back in.

Tears prickling at the corners of your eyes as his cock slid back in, filling you once more, sending shivers through your entire body. Then, he picked up pace, faster now, harder. Your walls tightened around him as he pounded deeper and deeper, making you feel alive in ways you never thought possible.

You clung to his shoulder blades, your fingers digging into his skin, leaving marks as he thrust into you. His eyes locked onto yours, watching as pleasure etched itself across your features. He leaned forward, bracing himself above you, and delivered another hard thrust, eliciting a sharp gasp from your lips.

Suddenly, he pulled out, flipping you over onto your stomach. Before you even had time to process what was happening, he pressed you face-down into the bed, grabbed your arms and crossed them behind your back, pinning you firmly in place.

Your moans turned into cries as he hitched your hips higher, burying himself even deeper inside of you from this angle, his hardness stretching you wide. It wasn't gentle anymore, far from it. He was rough, almost cruel, pushing past boundaries until you weren't sure if you could bear it any longer.

And yet you couldn't get enough.

You closed your eyes, burying your head into the sheets. He slammed into you again and again, each time he hit bottom. Your body quivered beneath him, and you let out a series of whimpers and gasps as he pushed you closer to the edge.

He tightened his grip on your wrists, pulling you closer against him. His breathing grew ragged as he lost himself in the sensation.

You wanted nothing more of him than to lose himself.

As he buried himself deep within you once more, you felt yourself shattering. Every muscle in your body convulsed, your cries muffled by the sheets beneath you. You shuddered violently, writhing underneath his firm grip as your orgasm threatened to consume you whole.

His rhythm faltered slightly as he felt you clench around him before picking up the pace again, and soon after, he followed you over the edge. He came inside of you, filling you whole with a sharp hiss of pain.

Satoru released the grip on your wrist and collapsed over you, resting himself on his arms. He remained motionless for a moment, both of you catching your breath. You lifted your head off the sheets, swallowing hard as the sensation lingered.

He leaned down, his breath warm on your back. His tongue ran along the curve of your spine, savoring the salty taste of your skin. "Feeling better now, sweetheart?" he asked, as his cum dripped onto the sheets.

Turning your head, you caught his eye. His gaze held yours, a sly smile on his lips.

You didn't know what to say—what to think even.

There was just this man who drove you absolutely insane—your professor, your research partner, your mentor's best friend, and...

...an addict.

"You have to get clean."

─── ·✧· ───

<- prev chapter | next chapter ->

x a/n: thank you for the wait dears, this chapter did turn out super long. also two smut scenes haha. i actually don't really enjoy writing these and it takes me forever but somehow i wrote two now... i blame it on ovulation. also i'm not too happy with the second smut scene but i edited it like three times already and can't seem to get it right, so i'm just posting it now. anyway thank you for reading, feel free to leave your thoughts! :) 

🏷️ @sad-darksoul @aerithsthingss @mylovelessnightmare @bbyxxm @musababy @neuviloved @ykehqqy @hexrts-anatomy @fvsm4x @tw0fvced @heijihattorisgf @sadmonke

[luveline]

oooooo how about reader obsessed with hugging hotch !! like he's so big and warm and it always makes them feel safe and cared for <33

my love this isn’t exactly what you asked for but I hope you like it! I could write a hundred fics about hugging Hotch <3 fem!bau!reader

You’re addicted to Hotch’s hugs. It’s a crude metaphor, but you don’t use it lightly. Without his hugs you feel unbalanced and unsettled. It’s strange to think just a few months ago you hadn’t been able to hug him at all, though you’d sorely wanted to, and now you can do it whenever you like.

Within reason. You aren’t awful, you don’t try to pin them on him during work when he’ll be seen by high-ups and law enforcement — you would never undermine his professionalism like that, or your own. Though there are exceptions.

Like lunch time. 

The team usually eat and work at the same time, but legally you’re allowed an hour a day for lunch, and Hotch wouldn’t get mad at anyone for wanting to take it in a more relaxing fashion. That being said, you usually have lunch like this; takeout around the same table, notebooks open, Reid barely picking at his, Morgan and Emily too busy eating to speak, JJ taking ten minutes for herself somewhere quiet, and Hotch hard-pushed to order anything in the first place. You sit way too close on his left and cut your sandwich in two with a plastic knife. 

“Here you go,” you murmur, more to yourself than him as you pass over the bigger half. 

“Honey,” he says, “no.”

“It’s okay, just eat it,” you insist. 

You sound as fond as you feel, you always do. Everybody’s used to how much you like Hotch. Not just love him or care about him, like him. You like how he’s quiet and stern and assertive. You like his suits and his short-cropped hair and his frown. Everything about him makes you smile, which is amazing considering the severity of your job. Nobody resents your being sweet on him, though Morgan still makes his jokes. 

“Do as the lady says, boss,” he advises. “We all know how it ends otherwise.”

Hotch frowns at him but takes your offered sandwich. You eat in silence, listening to the click of the computers in the bullpen through the open door, the warbling voice of the precincts police chief, and the rattle of keys as a janitor makes his way past the conference room you’re holed up in. Reid flicks through a map of the area, trying to narrow down his geographical profile, his pencil tap-tap-tapping. 

You pass a big wad of napkins onto Hotch’s thigh, and put what’s left of your sandwich back into its wrapper. He squints at you inquisitively. You’re only standing to stretch out the nagging ache that’s coiled between your shoulders and around your neck. You click, the sound like a gunshot, and make everybody in hearing distance flinch. 

Hotch abandons his food not long after you have, seeing an opening you hadn’t meant to give. He wipes his hands on a napkin, then his face. 

While he’s not looking, you take a step closer. Another and another. Morgan grins at you knowingly. 

You slide your arm behind Hotch’s neck, standing slightly behind him, and bring your face to the side of his head. He wraps an arm around you in turn, movement rigid with reluctance. 

“It’s my legal lunch break,” you say softly. “What do you always say about breaks?”

“You can spend it however you want,” he says, sounding very much like the Hotch you get to adore outside of work, joking and light, a great surprise. “But I can spend mine however I want.”

“And you don’t want to be hugging me?” you summarise. 

You’re joking in that you kind of know he doesn’t want this, not because he doesn’t want you. He’s rather shy, your Hotch. He loves hugs, but in front of others he requires a little persuasion. If you thought he truly didn’t want one you’d keep your hands to yourself, but…

“That’s not what I said.”

Pleased, you curl your second arm around his collar, hand diving into the soft hair at the back of his head. You pull with the lightest pressure, pressing a secret, soundless kiss to the end of his unhappy brow. And then, because you love him and you don’t want to embarrass him too much, you spring away from him like it never happened. 

Later, when dark has enveloped the city and you’re making your way out to the SUV that’s gonna take you to the hotel for the night, you fall into step with your lovely boyfriend and sigh. You’ve felt the guilt of your hug all day. 

“Thank you,” you say.

It takes him a second to emerge from his thoughts. “For what?”

He doesn’t add a pet name, but his tone implies one. 

“For letting me, uh, climb all over you at lunch. I know public displays aren’t your favourite.”

He tilts his head toward yours without looking at you. “It makes you feel better.”

He doesn’t need to say the obvious. You both work a hard job emotionally. 

“I don’t want to make you feel worse,” you say, voice sticky with bashfulness. 

He laughs, tipping his head back in the open air, and it’s odd enough for him that you gawp, worse when he wraps his hand around yours and swings them mildly forth and back. 

“In what world would a hug from you make me feel worse, honey?”

You smile in fits and starts for hours. In the SUV, in the hotel elevator, in the hallway outside of your room. You smile as you and Hotch get changed into lounge clothes for the night, and as he twines your fingers together under the sheets. 

He’s far from stupid. He knows why you’re smiling, and while his mind is on the case, he takes the time to say, “You don’t have to be so quick to move away. In front of the BAU.”

“Think we could get away with it in front of Strauss?”

“…No.”

You laugh, and Hotch evidently likes the sound of it. He lets you hug him like a straight jacket until 5AM.

[peoplesgraves]

Yandere Scooby Doo Headcanons

•Originally you were just a hitchhiker they picked up (totally ignoring Velma’s warnings). The more nights and days they spent with you crammed in the van and even helping out on cases, they all start to realize just how nice it is to have another member of mystery inc, especially one as cute as you.

•Fred would be the first to fall for you. Realistically he is weak to pretty people and probably falls in love like 8 times a day but it’s different with you! You’re not some passing fad, your love is the real deal. At least to Fred. He won’t be offended if you reject him at first because he just assumes that you’ll be together eventually. Like eventually he’ll figure out just the right way to make you love him back but until then he’s so happy to spend every day finding new ways to love you. When you’re on cases he always, always assigns you to stay with him and do something safer like watching his trap. He needs to keep you safe above all else so he’ll rarely leave your side. He would be the most likely to kidnap you.

•Shaggy falls for you next. He trusts Fred, he always has. So if Fred likes you then Shaggy will try to like you to. He ends up liking you too much though. You’re always down to share your snacks with him or comfort him after a particularly freaky case. You two always sleep in the back together (witch Scooby of course) because he rarely ever has a bad dream when you’re next to him. Shaggy wouldn’t consider himself brave and neither would anyone else, but for you he is. He’ll jump straight in the claws of any monster to keep you safe. He’s ok with you having your freedom because he trusts you not to leave him, if he ever does feel like you’ll leave him he still won’t lock you up but he would cry and beg and emotionally manipulate you.

•Daphne would be next. She’d only be after shaggy because it takes some time for her to realize that it’s not your fault that Fred has a thing for you. At first she tries to befriend you partly to make up for her original poor behavior and partly to try and figure out what Fred liked so much. She becomes just as obsessed with you as he is. She’s always finding an excuse to sit on your lap or just be really really close to you in some way. Daphne would also start buying you guys like matching jewelry or something, like a classy collar that won’t make you suspicious. She would also very likely kidnap you but it’s just because she literally can’t stand being away from you for too long, very selfish but also self aware enough to try and make up for it.

•Velma falls last. She’s the only one who definetly didn’t want to pick you up so she’s initially very suspicious of you. Glaring, asking probing questions and things like that. Whatever you did to gain her trust would be something small that you wouldn’t remember but she would never forget. Like absentmindedly calling her pretty or asking about her latest project. She feels so seen and understood by you and gets kind of addicted to it. She’s spent her entire life feeling overlooked and misunderstood so she takes great care to make sure you don’t feel that way. She keeps notebooks of things you tell her so she won’t forget and is a big big stalker. If there’s something to know and understand about you then Velma wants to know about it. She would not kidnap you because she values your happiness over her anxiety.

•Scooby! People say that dogs take on the traits of their owners so while I wouldn’t say Scooby is yandere he would be very easily influenced by everyone else. If he sees Fred keeping you in the van more often than not, then he’ll start to do the same. He’ll questions things at first but everyone just says it to protect/help/take care of you so he goes along with it. He really does love you, you’re one of his best friends! It’s just his other best friends are more convincing.

Part 2 with the hex girls?

[closurechilde]

Day 2: Sex pollen

HI I AM DOING THIS SLOWLY BECAUSE I'M FULL OF EXAMS BUT WE ARE GETTING CLOSER TO DAY 6 !!

cw: sex pollen, gn!reader (I think? Lemme know if it isn't!!), no protection (wrap it up. Seriously.)

"Hey, 'Nari! What's this one called?" You ask, hanging from a branch of the tree that he was sitting against.

Tighnari looks up to the flower you're talking about and he tilts his head to the side. "Hm, strange… I never saw it before."

You cut the flower and sniff it, sneezing right after.

"Ugh, the pollen in this flower is really strong." You cough, giggling at his face.

"You, lummox! You're my apprentice and the first thing you do with an unknown flower is cut it and sniff it?" He scolds you.

"Sorry!" You whine, puffing your cheeks angrily.

He sighs and grabs it, sniffing it too and having the same effect.

"Oh, god, you're right." He says coughing before writing down in his notebook. "Come on, let's go back to the village so we can study it."

[...]

Well, fuck the study.

And… fuck the apprentice.

How long have you two been at this? You can't remember anything except a few last sun rays when you last saw through the window.

He was grunting and whining against your neck. His overstimulated shaft making its way through your sore walls while you moan against the pillow where he had your head pressed down as his hips slammed against your ass.

Your back and shoulders were full of bite marks while you could sense his fingers marked on your hips.

He was sore. Of course he was. He's been at it for hours but how could he stop when you felt so warm inside? When he had become addicted to it and when he felt you so close to your climax even if he had made you come so many times?

"Fuck! How can you be like this when we've been at this for hours?" He grunts, looking at your disheveled state.

You open your eyes and look at his green and brown eyes covered by a blown pupil. Almost a drugged state.

And you both were. Not only due to the pollen but to each other's closeness and touch.

[lvckyyz]

headcanons abt how each cabin behaves at dinner time in the dining pavilion (bc I think each one has its own table) would be an amazing concept! love ur blog

dinner time

an average dinner at camp half-blood

⚡️⋆.ೃ࿔* zeus cabin

are usually the last cabin to get to the dining pavilion so they can make a dramatic entrance

would eventually get mad at cabin 5 for making fun of them for being too extravagant and start an argument with half of the cabins who tried to calm them down.

🦚⋆.ೃ࿔* hera cabin

cabin 2’s table was originally placed next to cabin 1’s one but mr. d moved it to the opposite side of the pavilion to avoid conflicts between these two cabins during dinner.

they’d spend most of the time chatting with cabin 10 and the rest of their dinner would be basically them complaining about the food.

🌊⋆.ೃ࿔* poseidon cabin

they don’t catch so much attention when arriving at the dining pavilion. most of the time they’re too tired to even talk between themselves during dinner because of their training sessions.

just give them 30 seconds to be full of energy again and teaming up with cabin 11 to throw water at mr. d.

💐⋆.ೃ࿔* demeter cabin

they are always the first ones to get there. demeter’s kids like to take flowers to decor the tables and sometimes a few of them bake/cook something to share with their friends.

they are really polite and calm, just trying to eat their dinner in peace and go back to what they were doing.

⚔️⋆.ೃ࿔* ares cabin

they’re usually really loud, especially if they had just won capture the flag, and would make sure to bump into cabin 6’s table and tease them for losing.

i think they’d have childish eating habits, like not liking vegetables and salad. they are the most likely to start a food war at some point too.

🦉⋆.ೃ࿔* athena cabin

the quiet ones who just wants to eat and go back to what they were doing before. is really common for them to take books and notebooks to the dinning pavilion because they “can’t lose time”

chiron don’t let them study in the dinning pavilion anymore because they’d stop eating when their food gets cold because of them getting distracted by their books

🌞⋆.ೃ࿔* apollo cabin

they usually arrive together with another cabin, mostly cabin 11 and 18, laughing and singing.

don’t really care about the rule of not seating in another’s cabin table, and they’d go around all the tables so they can eat with all their friends.

🌙⋆.ೃ࿔* hunters of artemis

when the hunters are in camp half-blood, they are the first ones to arrive and the first ones to leave, rare exceptions.

don’t usually interact with other cabins, and just talk between themselves.

🛠️⋆.ೃ࿔* hephaestus cabin

cabin 9 only go to the dining pavilion to get food to spend the night working and occasionally talk to some of their friends too.

they eat a lot though, and sometimes don’t manage to sneak out of the pavilion without getting caught when they are trying to take some food to their cabin

💘⋆.ೃ࿔* aphrodite cabin

some of them are usually late because they spend too much time getting ready for dinner, but others like talking to cabin 4 while they decor the tables.

they pretend to eat only healthy food but are addicted to desserts and won’t leave without eating something sweet.

📨⋆.ೃ࿔* hermes cabin

the other demigods always try to get to the dining pavilion before cabin 11 because they know that hermes’s children like playing pranks on who is late to dinner.

they also eat a lot because they need a lot of energy to keep up with their training schedule

🍷⋆.ೃ࿔* dionysus cabin

mr d. go to their cabin to check if they getting ready to dinner and then waits until all of his kids arrive to the dining pavilion to start eating.

always try to order wine from that magic cups but they never manage to do it. they get scolded by chiron really often because of that but at some point mr d. transformed him into a frog so he’d stop bothering his kids

☠️⋆.ೃ࿔* hades cabin

i feel like they don’t often have dinner with the others, but sometimes will eat in the dinning pavilion just so everyone knows they’re still there.

when they are not feeling like going to the dinning pavilion, their friends would bring some food for them in cabin 13 and they’d probably have a sleepover after that.

🌈⋆.ೃ࿔* iris cabin

they’re pretty quiet, just go there to say hello to everybody, eat and get some snacks to spend the night or to share with some friends later.

they like playing with the colors of the foods, like changing the food’s color or making it shine.

💤⋆.ೃ࿔* hypnos cabin

they might be a bit lazy but are never going to deny food. when arriving at the dinning pavilion they’d go straight to their friends table to talk a little before the food is served.

they’d never eat their whole meal because they would get tired of chewing at some point.

⚖️⋆.ೃ࿔* nemesis cabin

they have an habit of being the last ones to start eating because they think it’s unfair to have a meal while others are hungry.

would get so mad at people wasting food, or starting silly arguments (cabin 1 x cabin 5)

🏆⋆.ೃ࿔* nike cabin

they’d be either too tired while eating because of the training or would create dumb competitions

they have weird eating habits. i don’t really know how to explain but they eat weird food.

🧸⋆.ೃ࿔* hebe cabin

they are often scolded by cabin 16 for playing with their food or for speaking too loudly.

they’re just want the dessert, nothing else. (chiron won’t let them eat only sweet though)

🍀⋆.ೃ࿔* tyche cabin

never had to face situations like ordering something they don’t like or their food getting cold, because of their luck.

cabin 11 still tries to throw a pie on their faces but it just never works.

🔮⋆.ೃ࿔* hecate cabin

they put potions on the other cabins food sometimes, just to see the effect it’d have in people.

they take some food to the satyrs who live in the woods in exchange for magic ingredients for their studies.

⤷ author’s note:

that’s probably the longest hc i’ve ever written, but i hope you guys enjoy it🫶

(ps: before someone says anything about cabin 2 being here, i just want to say that i decided to include them here because i already made other hc about hera’s children so i thought it was fair to have them here)

[ozzgin]

Hi! thank you for my matchup and I really enjoyed it. You made all of my matches sound like they want to marry me, hehe (especially with Izuku). BTW, get well soon! Also, this isn't a request (just something I imagined): Izuku who absolutely loves the reader. One day, he randomly brings them a gift. As appreciation for his gifts, reader kisses Izuku all over his face.

Very glad to hear you enjoyed the results! I was somewhat nervous it’d be a hit or miss because I had never written anything BNHA related, but I had a lot of fun. Turns out writing for Deku is a surprisingly pleasant and cozy experience. So I certainly don’t mind expanding on your idea if that’s alright with you! :)

BNHA Headcanons: Midoriya Izuku as a loving boyfriend

Featuring Deku and a reader on the receiving end of his acts of love. Just some fluff ideas.

Once Deku finds a source of interest, he will research it to exhaustion. His humble notebook of rushed scribbles or detailed documentation is a black hole of information with no visible end in sight. Naturally, this habit of his will extend to his loved ones. Especially you. Knowing everything about his significant other is only common sense. Your likes, dislikes, hobbies, opinions…All the traits that you’re comprised of have been dutifully compiled on paper, and Deku will treat this manuscript like his own little Holy Book.

It is to be noted, however, that he’s not just a hoarder. All these facts are not kept around out of mere idleness. More than anything, Deku loves to see your smile. It’s particularly addicting, more so if he’s the cause of it. Thus he will do everything in his powers to entertain you and guarantee a bright expression on your face.

His main love languages are acts of service and gift giving. He doesn’t need special occasions to shower you with little gestures of affection. It’s not even an active effort per se. He will be shopping for groceries and notice your favorite soda is back in stock, swiftly adding it to his cart. He’ll learn your favorite artist is in town, so he’ll carefully check your schedule and buy tickets ahead. He knows you have an upcoming exam that stresses you terribly, so he’ll arrange a review session shortly beforehand with handmade flashcards and summaries to help you remember key aspects.

One could say it’s his nature to be attentive. For the longest time he’s been an outcast, standing in the audience and solely observing the others. The heroes on stage. Even as his turn came to step up into the spotlight, his introversion and introspection have continued to polish his skill of reading people to perfection. The slightest twist of your mouth will offer him everything he needs to know about your mood.

Safe to say Izuku, of course, doesn’t expect anything in return. He’s doing it out of his pure, unadulterated love for you. Although if he must be honest, your reactions to his surprises do leave him chasing for more. Last time it happened, he almost teared up wiping the lip stains you left on his face. Gazing at his reflection in the mirror, Deku couldn’t help the pride swelling up his chest. He would’ve loved to parade U.A. like this, letting everyone know about his undeniable bond with you. Sadly, he’s much too anxious for that kind of attention. Worry not, they shall live on in his memory.

[e4iphany]

astrology observations 2 . . . ♡

note: thank you guys for all the love on the last post! stay tuned for more astro observations & please let me know if you guys want any specific posts ♡ also a little bit of nsfw in this post!!

⚰️ earth mars men seem to always go for younger girls. i’ve noticed it with so many celebs - mainly capricorn mars and virgo mars.

⚰️ am i the only one who has noticed that it seems like fire/air sign mars women are usually more dominant and fire/air sign men are usually more submissive? most people seem to say “ohhh aries mars men are so dominant in bed” when most of the times they’re the ones most likely to be more submissive

⚰️ people with their ascendants at a higher degrees, meaning most of their 1st house is not the same as their ascendant, may still feel very connected to their ascendant + the other sign in their 1st house. my 1st house starts at 29° leo and ends with 22° virgo. i have a lot of virgo like traits, as well as leo facial features / personality traits.

⚰️ you may also come off as that second sign — i.e a lot of people think i’m a virgo when they first meet me as i’m shy and quiet & other basic traits lol

⚰️ people with their moon opposite their sun/ascendant … are you okay? you always seem to be fighting multiple personalities and can never tell who you really are. your outer emotions don’t reflect your inner emotions & you typically fake who you really are.

⚰️ 10H synastry/placements in composite chart is so sexy because they’re literally a power couple

⚰️ moon in 7H natives… you don’t need to be in a relationship to be healed… FOCUS ON YOURSELF!!!!!!!

⚰️ gemini risings have such beautiful hands. beautiful everything actually

⚰️ speaking of weird obsessions, a chart with a combo of gemini and pisces placements get obsessed with things and can’t overcome them. addictive personalities!

⚰️ it’s pretty easy to guess a sun sign by their looks. pisces and virgos are probably the easiest sign to guess, next to libra. i might do a post going more into detail!

⚰️ don’t know where the idea that pisces mars can be switches in bed came from because every pisces mars i’ve met at first thought they were a switch and turned out to be a bottom lol. we like to act like we aren’t bottoms though 🖤

⚰️ if your synastry chart with someone doesn’t have any squares/oppositions/quincunx … it will be very boring and superficial. every relationship/friendship needs some dynamic and challenges to overcome. it doesn’t mean toxicity, it just means you’ll need to put in effort.

⚰️ pisces .. anything age SOOO beautifully. think jensen ackles, rihanna, cindy crawford, etc. mainly pisces sun & rising i’ve noticed. probably moon as well, but i don’t know too many pisces moons.

⚰️ 7H/4H synastry is like .. romcom / basic romance movies kind of love. 8H/12H synastry is like requiem for a dream / buffalo 66 / the notebook kind of shit lmfao. toxic but die-for-you kind of

⚰️ easiest way to see if someone has pisces in their big 6 is their eyes!!! literally all pisces placements have bigggggg eyes i can’t even describe them. pisces sun, moon & rising is more prevalent with this character trait.

⚰️ if their moon falls in your 4H/1H… good luck getting over them because it’s *not* going to happen

⚰️ north node / south node synastry is so …. 😍🥰😘😍😍😘 perfect. think winona ryder & johnny depp, her south node conjunct his asc & his north node conjunct her vertex.

⚰️ aries moons are such great friends. maybe it’s because i’m a sag moon, but 2 of my closest friends are aries moons & they tell me how it is in, they don’t sugarcoat and they’re real. i 🖤 aries moons

thank you for reading! and you thank you for all the love on the last post . . . ♡

[im-robins-bitch]

hey, can you maybe write a fic about X (x ray) in you Robin Buckley headcanons?

I thought the idea was rlly different

Thank you for the request, I'm sorry it's a little shorter than I intended. I struggled with writing this, it probably turned out sadder than you wanted.

Give yourself a try (r.b x gn!reader)

Or, Robin is struggling and not letting you help, so you do the only thing you can think of to get her to stop and breathe. (1.1.1k)

Warnings: panic attack, self-hatred on Robin's part, reader lifts their shirt to show off their chest, but no descriptors of their chest, just that they lifted their shirt and Robin liked it. No explicit gendered language to describe the reader.

Robin Buckley feels like a dream wrapped in a bow. It’s a miracle she doesn’t just glide across the floor rather than walk because she feels comparable to the Greek gods you’ve heard about. Aphrodite cannot hold a candle to her. You’re sure any sound from her trumpet would make music from Apollo comparable to a child practising the recorder. 

You’ve been hit hard by Cupid's arrow. 

Robin is just so perfect… Ok, maybe not perfect.

She’s awful at applying bandaids, so whenever she’s trying to break in new shoes you find plasters all over the house. Fallen from her skin from her dismal application. They trail across the house, leading you straight to her everytime. 

She leaves all the kitchen cabinet doors open, which has resulted in you gaining multiple bruises. She’s also really forgetful. Her head is so full, different facts and tasks fluttering around, so sometimes a couple of bits get lost. She started writing things down on her hands, things she didn’t want to forget. Though, at the end of the day they would just be multi-coloured smudges, reminders of fleeting memories. 

Still, you would rather peel bandaids off the floor, to find Robin at the end of the trail than have nothing to follow or find at all. Plus you think it’s cute, the small notebook she keeps with her that has important dates written down, things she wanted to talk to you about. 

You’re utterly charmed by her idiosyncrasies, her faults, her Robinisms. 

When you first began dating Robin, it felt like spinning gold, too good to be true. You simply thought you were the luckiest person in the world to call Robin Buckley your girlfriend. You had your share of bumps in the road, but the two of you toughed it out every time. 

You know her like the back of your hand. Know when she needs a hug without her needing to tell you. Know when she needs space, needs to talk, needs to eat. 

For the first time in a long while, you find yourself unsure of what she needs.

Robin is rambling like she so often is. Usually, you love it, indulging in her thoughts and opinions like an addict. Today though, she’s spiralling. 

It’s like picking at a loose stitch, poking out a jumper, one moment it’s just one little thread, but the more you pull the more it unravels.

“I’m just so sorry you have to put up with me,” she seethes, “I don’t know how you do it,” 

Robin is unravelling faster than you can gather her. 

Every sentence out of her mouth is a scathing insult against herself. Against her character or her appearance. You wonder if she’s been feeling this way for a while, curse yourself for not noticing sooner. 

She’s burning holes in the carpet with how fast she’s walking. She’s circling the kitchen with a velocity you didn’t know she had. Tugging at her hair so hard you think tomorrow you’ll be sweeping up clumps. 

You keep trying to butt in, to get her to just stop for a moment and take a breath. To reassess and realise what a treasure she is. It’s just not working. “Rob-”

“Everybody only puts up with me because of Steve and I bet he secretly hates me, yesterday-”

Robin keeps looking at you for guidance but she just won’t stop. She flinched at your outstretched hands and talked over your every rebuttal. She can see herself falling but can’t bring herself to reach out. She doesn’t know how and isn’t sure she deserves it.

You just want to shake her and yell ‘Stop talking about my girlfriend like that!’ Even so, you just can’t catch her. You didn’t realise she was so athletic, she had no enthusiasm for it in school. You think she would have been the school track star given the chance.

She rounds the counter again, hip bumping unkindly into the corner of a cupboard door. You hiss at the contact. Resist the urge to reach out and soothe the stinging with your warm palm and a dozen kisses. 

“Honey-”

“You probably hate me too” Robin mutters, choking on an angry sob.

You snap. The next time she rounds the corner, you step into her way, cutting off her pacing. She walks into you, unable to stop herself and stumbles backwards a little. She opens her mouth again, undoubtedly to say something cruel about herself. 

Unable to stand it, you do the first thing you can think of to shut her up. You pull up the hem of your shit. Bare chest on full display.

For the first time since you got home, Robin is silent. Her jaw drops cartoonishly, her eyes zoning in on your chest unabashedly. 

You take your chance and further invade her space, dropping your shirt back down again. You wrap your arms around her tightly so you can squeeze some sense and love back into her. She tries to return it, but her arms around you are so loose, so unsure, it hurts your heart. 

She smells like the valve oil she occasionally uses on her trumpet. The smell clings to her clothes. You untuck her face from your chest. Hands firm on her cheek, thumb rubbing up and down her pink-stained cheeks, soothing away her tears. 

“Robin, I adore you more than anyone.” You promise, unable to help yourself when you press a chaste kiss to her lips. “Please never doubt that.”

It cracks her facade, her arms once limp curl around you. She squeezes and clings to you like a lifeline and cries with ferocity into your neck. Her anger is gone and left is the ache of sadness, made worse by her exhaustive anger. 

You cradle her against your chest, hand tracing shapes into her back the way you know she likes. 

“I-I don’t…” She starts, unable to form a thought coherent enough to be worth saying. She’s still crying heavily, trying to understand the swirl of unpleasant emotions turning her stomach. Her chest is still thumping with anxiety, a tightness constricting her chest that makes it all worse. 

Even now, consoled by your confession of love, the leftovers of her extreme emotion remain. She tries to calm herself, but it takes time to adjust when it feels like you have just been stood at the edge of a building. 

“It’s okay, my love, cry all you need.” You say breathing steadily. You hold one of her hands to your chest, encouraging her to match her breathing to yours. 

She’s tired of crying, of feeling this way. She isn’t ready to talk about it but she knows you need to, she needs to. It won’t be solved overnight, things rarely can be, but talking about it will start the process. You’ll be there to help her, even if you can’t mend it all, you’ll listen.

You’ll talk when she’s ready, but until then, you’re content to hold her in your arms.

masterlist

[talesofesther]

honey-like

Eddie Munson x Reader

This story belongs to the Moonstruck universe

Summary: Eddie will never have enough of your kisses, luckily for him, you're just as addicted.

A/N: Challenge for ya, tell me who's more in love with who here. A sweet anon requested this. <3

Masterlist

"What do you want for dinner?" Eddie asked, his raspy voice resonating through his trailer while he sat on the kitchen counter, eyes trained on the little notebook in his hands and tongue poking out of his mouth as he wrote.

"Uh, I don't know Eds," you walked out of the bathroom, towel in your hands as you finished drying your hair. As it has recently become tradition, you were spending the weekend at Eddie's home, "we can order something if you'd like."

"Pizza?" He glanced up, pointing his pen at you. His brown curls were pulled up in a loose bun — made by you, after Eddie was almost tearing up in frustration because it was too hot and he couldn't get his hair up himself — and he wore his red flannel over faded black sweatpants.

Eddie smiled something shy, dark gentle eyes crinkling on the sides when you didn't answer, and just gazed at him with what you could only assume was adoration, given his red cheeks.

You chuckled, shaking your head and avoiding his eyes; "pizza sounds perfect."

"Come here, princess." Eddie threw aside his notes with the grocery list, extending both hands to you.

Letting go of your towel, you walked up to him, standing between his knees with your arms locked around his shoulders.

With a gentleness he kept only for you, Eddie pushed damp hair strands behind your ears, "beautiful," he breathed, hooded eyes roaming over every inch of your face.

You leaned in, bumping your nose with his before pulling back in a tease that had him groaning, "look who's talking."

Eddie snorted, making the dimples appear on his cheeks, the shape of his smile shining under the cheap yellow lights of the trailer.

"You're making going to the market without you really hard, you know that?" Eddie pouted exaggeratedly, raising an eyebrow at you, "'m gonna miss you."

Bringing your hands up, you squished his cheeks, making his lips all the more plumper. "You remind me of a puppy with separation anxiety sometimes." The frown on his brows made you giggle, "I'm tired today, baby, and you'll be back in no time. I'll be here waiting, always."

There was some kind of soulmate shit with you, there had to be, with the way Eddie felt drawn to you. He encircled his arms around your waist, your heart was beating against his and it still didn't feel close enough. He leaned in slowly, his top lip grazing yours first, not knowing where your breathing started or his ended. The gentle pull of your hands on the hair at the nape of his neck finally had him kissing you, all shy and pretty still. You caught his lower lip between yours and suddenly Eddie was in space; surrounded by a galaxy of stars as he tasted you, sweet as honey.

Breathing felt like a punishment when it forced Eddie to stop kissing you. He took barely a puff of air through his lips, before cupping your cheek with one hand and leaving several pecks at the corner of your lips and to your cheeks, until you were both smiling too hard.

"Oh," you pulled back to look at Eddie, "see if you can find a litter box for Ozzy, we'll need one for the van, maybe a tiny leash too." You pointed out, straightening the lapel of his flannel.

"A- a what? For the van, princess?" Eddie stammered, his lips parted in a confused frown as he tilted his head.

"A litter box for Ozzy, for when we go traveling," you said, as if it was the most obvious thing.

Eddie's hands landed on your waist, his thumbs sneaking under your shirt and grazing the skin of your belly. "You… wanna take the cat, on our trip?" He asked slowly, raising his eyebrows.

As if on cue, the black ball of fur jumped up on the counter, rubbing himself on Eddie's back and purring loudly like he wanted in on the conversation.

You ran a hand over the cat's back, stroking the soft fur; "of course I do, we're not gonna leave him alone, your uncle is barely home." Some unruly curls had broken free from Eddie's bun, you twirled one of them on your fingers with your free hand.

He chuckled, sounding warm and pretty, guitar-scarred fingertips tracing the bare curve of your spine; "alright, where do you wanna go?"

"Well, first of all, I really wanna see the Washington zoo, then a few parks, museums," you listed, biting the inside of your cheek in thought, "oh there's the arts one in Indianapolis," you snapped your fingers, excited smile on your lips.

Eddie was only looking at you, chocolate brown eyes almost completely black with his blown pupils. He was smiling all soft and dreamy.

You dropped your hands to his thighs and squeezed, "and what do you wanna see, pretty boy?"

Eddie hummed, "for me, it's whatever," he ran his tongue over his bottom lip, leaning in again, "you know, as long as I'm with you and all."

It had you giggling, heat coming up your neck and to your cheeks, "charmer, charmer," your lips brushed his as you spoke and he stole another kiss.

You pulled away before he got too into it, leaving a pouty Eddie chasing for you. "Go before the market closes, I'll order the pizza," you booped his nose.

Eddie hopped down from the counter, taking hold of your hand before you turned away, "one more for good luck?"

"You're impossible," you chuckled, hands closing around his flannel and pulling his lips to yours.

⋆* ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

Thank you for reading this little story. Feedback and reblogs are very much appreciated. <3

Eddie’s taglist: @milkiane @bookfrog242 @alicefallsintotherabbithole @science--hoes @cherrypieyourface @tssf-imagines @astream-ofconsciousness @fentyreligion @fantasylovestoryme @justabeautiful-letdown @crazyrapunzel @yessica41 @dancing-hillary @bakugouswh0r3 @jakebasement @zervopoulouu @forverdaydreamer-blog @fromthedt @oeuryale

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[castrian-amore]

Bitter had the Heart

Dead Tired(Tim Drake x Danny Fenton), Tim Drake-centric, unfinished, the author is plotting, temporary character death, please check out ao3 for full tags list

3/46 Chapters | Chapter Length: 3584 words

Chapter 3: We are Not Translating Fanfiction

Tim didn’t understand why he had even picked this class for this particular credit. He technically didn’t need it. Then again it seemed more interesting than the other classes and Tim had been hoping for a challenge for once. The teacher was big on working as team and while, yeah Tim could do it. He preferred to work alone on his topics and thankfully there was an odd amount of people in his class so when he requested to do the group assignments he allowed it. 

Until today. 

One Daniel “Danny” Nightingale, was a late transfer into the class for unknown reason. It was also the mysterious kid in the alley. He looked a little better in person but the vote was that he was definitely sick, whether just right now or long term had yet to be determined. He leaned heavily on a cane at the moment walking with a heavy limp.

Tim could point out his handsome features though. The higher cheekbones. The stunning raven hair, his piercing blue eyes. The kid definitely wasn’t immune to the streets. The way he held himself on the verge of running. The sunken wary eyes. This kid was far too comfortable with living in fight or flight mode. If he even knew anything else it would be surprising. 

The teacher pointed to Tim giving him the spot right next to him advising sitting next to the person he would be partnered with. It wasn’t required by any means but it certainly was an option, and he did. 

“So, now that that’s out of the way, where was I? Oh yes the IPA. The International Phonetic Alphabet.” Professor Kaivan began his speech as Danny pulled out a piece of notebook paper and pencil sitting next to Tim. 

“Uh, hi, I’m Danny,”The kid held out his hand and Tim shook it. A cold chill going up his spine from how cold he was, damn. 

“Tim Drake-Wayne,”he introduced with ease, expecting the man to back away or at least move seats because of his name. The Wayne name caught most people off guard but Danny seemed unfazed by it all. In fact he didn’t even flinch or stutter or reel at who he was talking to even. 

“Nice to meet you Tim,”Danny gave him a bright smile. “Apologies for having you stuck with partnering for me after I’m already a late transfer.”

“No issue. Can I ask why you had to transfer?”Tim raised an eyebrow at the man. Their words quiet as the professor droned on. 

“I was in Latin, and I can fluently speak and read latin. The professor kept getting things wrong and I kept correcting them. They kept insisting because they’re the ‘professor’ but I kept insisting I was right, which I was. She didn’t like that so she kicked me out. She got so annoyed she refused to teach me. Thus leaving me with about to loose my credit I really needed this semester so I asked if I could late transfer into another language based class.” 

“And here you are?” 

“Here I am. Only teacher that was willing to give me a chance.” 

Tim snorts a little. Tim had only almost been kicked out of a class one, and that was one of his law classes. Tim kept correcting the professor over and over and over again, and it kept pissing off the professor so bad. Tim had a sneaking suspicion he was going to like this guy. He just hoped the guy was as intelligent as he seemed. 

Being fluent in a dead language was no easy task. None of the bats were fluent in a lot of dead languages but they all knew several spoken languages and a little of a few dead ones. Tim more than others. Books were always his specialty. He preferred to spend the house researching alone in his room or the bat cave. It was part of the reason the other claimed he had a coffee addiction. He did not by the way. He didn’t know what Dick was even talking about. 

“Professor Kaivan is pretty relaxed about that kind of stuff. He assigns minimal homework and prefers to do the group projects over everything else.” 

“Yeah his rate-my-professor score is pretty high.” 

“Sounds about right,”Tim agrees, turning back to the topic at hand for the moment. 

“Now, learning the International Phonetic Alphabet is not for the faint of heart. Having someone to listen and assist when learning this is vital. One of the many reasons everyone in this room has a partner. Learning it is vital for the rest of your success in this class. Breaking down specific sounds a language makes and making it easy for everyone to read any language in this format.” 

Professor Kaivan was an interesting man. Until four and a half years ago he had some of the worst rate your professor scores, but it was rumored that after the death of his partner he sobered up and wanted to help people. Since then, he has been a great teacher. Using his partner method to teach people, becoming a caring professor, giving students days in class to study and work on whatever work needed to be done. He wasn’t a super hard professor to have. 

His hair was graying as the man was into his late 40s going on 50s. Sideburns and his beard graying though. He dressed pretty chill too, half the time coming into class wearing a casual cardigan and a beanie. He was an accomplished guy with a full on doctorate in linguistics. Masters in Psychology and bachelors in the study of Italian. Most of his focus seemed to be on the intricacies of the Italian language but Tim was fluent in Italian and didn’t care to take any of his italian classes. Not that the man had many. 

“I know the 107 letters can be difficult and if you don’t know what to listen for they can sound similar to each other, but that’s why this whole unit is just on breaking down the IPA, and making sure all of us can read, and understand it. Okay?” 

Mummers of okays and yesses echoed through the lecture hall. Tim opened his phone, scrolling to Dick’s phone number and clicking on it. 

Timmy Boi: Guess who just walked into my Linguistics class as a late transfer?

Dickie Bird: Who? 

Timmie Boi: Alley kid

Dickie Bird: No fucking way. Is he that rude in person?

Timmie Boi: No not yet at least. We’re partnered up for the semester though, so plenty of time for me to find out heh. Dude’s got a cane. 

Dickie Bird: So not our so-called mystery vigilante Jason wants us to meet?

Timmie Boi:  Unlikely, He also looks sick as a mother fucker Dick. Like it’s bad. 

Dickie Bird: Damn, so still no leads until Friday? 

Timmie Boi: Unfortunately not. Cams still distorted as fuck with those symbols?

Dickie Bird: Just like all the others. Only copies we have are hand drawn references. No one can get a clear pic. 

Timmie Boi: Anyluck on the Distortion dude? Anything on him?

Dickie Bird: Uhh, he showed up 3 years ago? Works for Jason mostly. Started as a runner, then became body guard and personal protection for a lot of the shipments going in and out of Jason’s domain. That was only after bribing over 15 inmates too. 

Timmie Boi: How the fuck did Jason keep someone, a meta namely, from us for so long? 

Dickie Bird: Who knows. One guy said something about protecting a child. The child is Jason’s guard dog. Brutal when he needs to be. Maybe he’s scarier than he looks? People kept quiet over fear? 

Timmie Boi: You’re the people person, but even then if people are scared we would have heard something else. I just think we have something else in the picture here that we’re missing it all. 

Dickie Bird: Well, any cameras he passed by that night went to static. I had Barb check it out for us. 

Timmie Boi: So his gift can mess with cameras? Only mildly concerning. 

Dickie Boi: Wait, why are we having this conversation right now Tim? You’re in class?!?!?! I’m leaving you alone. Pay attention, and don’t fall asleep, and DRINK WATER FOR ONE IN YOUR CAFFEINE ADDICTED LIFE. 

Timmie Boi: YOU CAN’T STOP ME DICK. I’M GETTING COFFEE RIGHT AFTER THIS. 

Speaking of coffee, he could probably get mystery-dude’s phone number for their homework and stuff. Maybe he could even get coffee with him and help him with his classes. And maybe find out more about that night in the alley. 

“What are you doing after class?”Tim spoke up to look over at the man. Danny wasn’t even paying attention to the lecture. He was… drawing? Way better than anything Tim could draw that was for sure. Maybe he would get along with Damian? Tim liked the easier stuff, taking pictures. He could draw but he didn’t like it nearly as much as being able to get behind a camera and take some beautiful photos. Man, he should get back into that again. Dick was always pressing him to get back into a hobby outside of crime solving. He liked to stick with what he was good at though. 

“Oh? Uh nothing really, just contemplating existence. Why what’s up?”Danny gave a soft shy smile. Oh no. His smile was cute. Also wait, contemplating existence?

“Well, I figured if we’re gonna be stuck together all semester we could get coffee and talk about the project and get to know each other a little better.” Tim could watch a wave of anxiety slip over the man. 

“Well, I don’t know maybe,”a small shrug then a quiet moment of contemplation. “Actually, sure that’d be nice!”  

“Great!”

“Wait, we already have a project?”Danny’s eyes widened looking from his doodle of something? Tim couldn’t make it out but it was pretty? Looked like a pool of swirling water sketched in a gray scale. Who knows. This guy must have been so distracted he didn’t hear the teacher’s words about their project. Rewriting a speech in a non-english language into the phonetic alphabet. 

Tim couldn't help but laugh a little at him. 

This caught a small look from the teacher and Tim stifled his laughter a little even as Danny began to fight his own laughter as the two looked at each other. That was so dumb. Why was he even laughing at that?

“I’ll explain after class.” 

“Sounds good to me, I’m just sitting here… doodlin’.” 

“I see that..” Tim gave him a smile as Danny chuckled himself turning back to his drawing. The man stretching his arms upwards turned to actually pay attention to the teacher. A small frown coming across his face noticing the thin spindly scars edging up the side of his neck across the back of his neck. What the fuck was that? He shook his head. 

Tim stayed mostly alert the rest of the hour long class. Kaivan had started going through the various letters of the IPA and their origins and why they were chosen. It was interesting to say the least. He had learned a lot and the class was definitely different than what he was used too. Danny on the other hand. 

Fuck Tim hoped the dopey smiles and spaced out stared was how he payed attention or their partnership was going to be a lot more strenuous than he originally thought. He swore he saw him falling asleep a couple times there before jerking himself awake. Not that Tim could blame him. He averaged only about 3 hours a night if he was lucky. Then again, Tim didn’t exactly play the whole “catch up on sleep” game. 

It did take a gentle nudge from Tim to get the man away and on their way to the coffee shop. He was slow as he walked with the cane but Tim didn’t say anything about it. Everyone had their little quirks and issues. Lord knows Tim had his. 

The cold autumn air in Gotham was settling around them. 

“What’s your major?” It was Danny who spoke up with a quiet smile. 

“Oh, business. I plan to take over my father’s company,”Tim replied. 

“Wow, impressive.” Danny looked up at the sky with a small chuckle as Tim raised an eyebrow at him. 

“Thanks, what’s yours?”

“Engineering, I was going to do Astronomy but we’ll the Gotham Skies aren’t exactly the clearest.” Danny chuckled softly as Tim gave a nod. 

“The smog helps no one. Glad you found a major you like though.” There was a silence settling between them but it didn’t lessen the mood in fact it almost felt welcomed in a quiet way. 

“Same to you!” Danny looked up at the crows stopping the duo in their tracks. There were almost 10 crows just watching them. Tim, had never seen that. All them staring at Danny. “Boo.” The man whispered and with a small chuckled, all 10 flew off the branches and into the air leaving Tim to watch and then follow. Missing how the birds simply landed up ahead. 

Tim was sort of lost in thought about the revelations they could possibly have about the whole Distortion situation. 

“Heyo, Timmy,”Danny’s voice dragged him from his thoughts and his slow pace holding the door open. “Don’t hurry up and you’ll be soaked.” He hadn’t even noticed a slow drizzle starting to fall from the sky. He held his hand out before running to meet the man. 

Tim joined the man into the warm coffee shop. The scent of pumpkin spice filling their noses as they moved to get in line. 

“Didn’t get too wet did you?”Danny asked concern surprising Tim. 

“Ah, no, don’t worry about me though.  I might be more concerned for when we leave here though.” 

“I’m not too worried.” The man gave a nonchalant shrug. “Can’t kill me worse than I already have been.” Was that a death joke? 

“Oh?”Tim gave a smirk. He wasn’t normally one for puns, those were Dick’s thing but also… Dick wasn’t here. “Did it have you rolling in your grave?” Dick could never find out about this but then Danny’s shit eating grin only widened across his face. 

“Oh, for sure it was to die for after all.” 

“I can’t I’m sorry,”Tim laughed with a smile. “What’re you getting? I’ll pay since I invited you out.” 

“Oh, I might scare you with my order.” 

“I promise you won’t. Mine is insane myself.” 

“One of those extra large pumpkin spice lattes with 10 shots of espresso.” 

“Extra large americano with 8 shots of espresso,”Tim quipped. “I see you’re a man just as insane as I am.” 

“Oh, for sure. I’ve never met someone with an order just as bad as mine,”he admitted as he stared up at the menu. “How are the sandwiches here? Are they pretty dead-licious?”

“Oh god..” 

“Or I don’t know, pretty frightful?” 

“Please Danny.” 

“I bet they’re boo-mbastic.” 

“Who ever uses that word anymore.” 

Okay Halloween was coming up admittedly. Yes there were halloween and fall decorations coming but, but god dammit Danny. It was like having another Dick around. 

“You decided to fuel this.” 

“I did not decide to fuel anything!”Tim complained just as they got to the counter ordering their coffees. It was a barista Tim was familiar with. A kind girl named Sarah who seemed to be all too familiar with the two of them. 

“Oh! Can I also get the mac and cheese please!”Danny offered another charming smile putting some money in the tip jar. “I can pay you back Tim.” 

“No worries.” Tim gave a shrug. 

“Alrighty and here you are Tim.” Sarah handed him his card back with the receipt as he himself put some money in the jar. 

“Damn, she knows your name?”

“I know you too Danny, Mr. 10 shots of espresso at midnight last week. You also fucking work here.” 

“Love you guysssss, and I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Danny practically purred out with an innocent smile. 

“You two together, scare me,”the barista motioned between the two of them. “But honestly, we were waiting for you two to meet.” 

“I’m innocent,”Tim vouched.”Also wait, what?” 

“I watched you order an extra large cup with only espresso shots in it for Finals last semester.” Sarrah refused to answer the apparent group that had been waiting for Tim and Danny to meet each other. 

“I was busy!” 

“You weren’t sleeping!” 

“Anyways I’m going to go over there,”Danny pointed to an empty table by the window. 

“Yeah, Tim. How about you go over there. With your little Date,”She emphasized the word as Danny was already over sitting down unpacking his backpack onto the table. 

“He’s not my date! We literally just met!” 

“Yet. Next in line please!” 

“Sarah-- no-- I swear to--”Tim could have sworn he saw an exchanging of cash behind the counters. Were they betting on something. What the fuck were they betting on?!? He hissed and moved to join Danny in the opposite seat. 

“So did you even catch what the group project is? How much have you studied of the Linguistics 101 class anyways?” Tim pulled out his laptop setting it in front of him. He logged in giving a small smile of the silly chaotic and group picture they had gotten last year at Christmas. Bruce stood on the far right and Jason on the far left Dick’s arm wrapped around his shoulder. Damian was trying to stab Tim again who was moving to dodge it. Steph chaotically cheering the gremlin on. Cass quietly wondering if she should intervene in the middle. Duke full on panicked at what was going on as it was his first Christmas with the family. Barb covering her mouth in laughter in front of Bruce. He wanted to make sure she was included. It was his favorite photo of him and his siblings. 

Fuck. Danny had been talking to him. 

“Earth to Timmy.” A wave of a hand in front of his face. 

“Please just Tim,”he laughs. “Sorry, yes?”

“I was asking about the IPA. Are you familiar with it? I have no idea on anything about it.” 

“I know like half of it? I’ll have to learn the other half,”he admits. “But yes, the project.” 

“Fuck, yeah okay what’s this project?” 

“It involves reading.” 

“No! WHY!” 

“In another language.. That neither of us speak.” 

“Oh god.” 

“Yeah, so we’re supposed to write down a 1,000 minimum word speech, or chapter from a book or whatever and put it into the International Phonetic Alphabet.” 

“I don’t know about you but I speak a lot, like A lot of languages.” 

“Yeah.. I feel the same way.” 

“What do you speak?” Danny playfully pushed Tim’s computer screen down from booting up the program the professor had given them to use to type out the phonetic alphabet. It was still apparently a nightmare program, but he had decided to type it so he wouldn't be deciphering shitty handwriting. 

“Mandarin, Chinese, Italian, German, French, russian, Japanese, tagalog, spanish, I think that’s all of them?” 

“You speak Tagalog too!” Danny’s words switched with ease to the language. 

“No fuckin’ way,” Tim had to laugh at that one. “What else do you speak?” 

“Same things are you but, Esperanto, Swahili, Cantonese, javanese, Sardo(technically a dialect but you know same difference),  Ukrainian, I think that’s all?” 

“I thought I was the Polyglot. Oh! I also speak ASL and BSL.” 

“I know bits and pieces of ASL, definitely no BSL though,”he laughs softly. “But wait what other languages does that leave?”

“Well, a lot but I mean. We could always pick an easy one we both know.” 

“Italian?” 

“Yeah, please. I do not want translate someone in a non-latin based alphabet. It registers funny in my brain.” 

“I gotta ask though Danny… Esperanto?” 

“Okay, leave me alone! I had a friend who spoke it and taught me it so we could shit about others.”  

“That’s fuckin’ hilarious though,”he smirked. “But what should we translate?” 

Danny looked like he was about to burst out laughing. “What if we just fucking translated the Divine Comedy.” 

“Danny Nightingale, are you telling me we should rewrite one of the most famous works of Italian writing, ever. That is also notoriously translated, a lot? And is--- you know.”

“Ma Divine Commedia,”Danny laughed. Tim could not with him right now. “E la fanfiction Tim.” 

“YEAH I KNOW, that’s why I can’t believe you’re suggesting it.” 

“COMMEDIA.” Danny proclaimed with a snort. Fuck that was cute. Thank god his name was called to grab their stuff. He could ignore the small twinge in his chest as he brought them their coffee and the food for Danny. 

“Let’s get this over with I guess.” 

“YES!” Danny threw his first into the air in excitement. “This is the start a beautiful friendship Tim, I promise.” 

“Are we about to be nightmares to our poor professor?” 

“What? Nooooo.” 

“Oh yes we fucking are,”Tim rolled his eyes and smiled as he sipped his drink pulling up the original document. They were so fucked, but at least it would be funny. If Danny was his new partner for his class maybe Friday would come sooner than he thought. 

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

[punkeropercyjackson]

Spiderband groupchat headcanons but it's based off my bio siblings and friends who're teenagers that i also consider my younger siblings because Y'all Do Not Know How To Write Teens

It's called 'Websters Declassified'

It was Margo's idea to start it obviously

Miles already had a groupchat app that she used for her family but the rest of the band except Gayatri had to install them-Gwen and Miles G DID have one but she took it off because she only ever used it with 65 Peter and she had multiple meltdowns looking through their messages so she forced herself to out of mental safety and he smashed his phone in agonized sadness after finding out about Jefferson so all the data on it was lost

Gayatri has an additional old one she uses for school friends since she's so popular and dosen't want to fuck up and accidentally send Spiderwoman stuff to them

The layout of it has a notebook theme and is popular among black people thanks to it containing various exclusive black stickers and emojis and that's why Miles and Margo both use it

Hobie's a bit of a grandpa when it comes to technology because of being from the 70s and not having been at Spider Society for that long so he had a hard time communicating in it at first,not helped by his cockney

Peni is reverse where she considers it slighty obselete thanks to her futuristic world but in a charming shaking her head 'This old thing' way(Just like she does with Noir /hj)

Their icons are:Miles-a black/blasian edit of Orihime Inoue,Gwen-A random picture of a half eaten pink cupcake she took,Peni-A lesbian flag meme,Pavitr-Bugs Bunny,Hobie-A black/blasian edit of Ichigo Kurosaki to match Miles(They are LITERALLY black4black Ichihime),Gayatri-Bugs Bunny but in one of her fem outfits,Margo-Nessa from Pokemon with a pink filter and Miles G-A cartoony drawing of a black kid with braids

They use it almost every day and night-It actually messed up a few of their sleep schedules but they fixed them again when it started going too far by reminding the other to go to sleep because they love them and deserve good health

Gwen sends them her audio files,either as gifts by covering their favorite songs or just to try out how a new song sounds

Pavitr violently falls over from so much bouncing with his phone getting the brunt of it SO many times but it's somehow always completely intact despite having no special protection

It's where Miles came out to them after her egg cracked but she did because they were all sitting together physically so she'd have them there to comfort them as she sobbed in a big flurry of different emotions

The other girls then start sending her transfem memes on a regular basis and Miles G is actually the one who made her her Orihime pfp

They tried to have movie nights but the collective audhd proved to be too much so they just have normal ones

It's incredibly active and a mixed ass bag,one second they be talking about Spiderjunk,the next someone's venting to the point you can feel them shaking through their texts and then they're discussing the history of legos

Peni's the one who most uses it in class and had a special mini comic where she got it back from her principal and didn't learned her lesson at the end

Since Miles uses kamojis,Margo is a gifs addict

They learned a lot about eachother cultures,more than ever

Selfies sending is a pretty regular thing

Miles G was more hesitant to start using his app again than Gwen since his was actually the same but he prowlered through and now it's a healthy and stable part of his life

Gayatri looks for wholesome videos to show all of them

"MARGO,GIVE ME YOUR PHONE"-Hobie at least twice a day

Gwen and Margo are an e-couple in the sense that they act exactly like girlfriends in it but are in denial irl

Hobie randomly infodumps in it once he gets the hang of it and takes up Miles' kamoji usage but only the smug/bitchy ones

Their usernames are mostly just their names but with a special twist to give them personality-Miles is her name with a sunflower next to it,Pavitr has a sparkles emoji and Miles G has his in that edgy font.But Margo is 'Margo Thee Byte',Gayatri is 'The Ungwen' as a reference to 'The Undead' and for irony,Hobie is 'What are you?A cop?',Peni is 'Pastel Genesis Evangelion' and Gwen is just an assortment of pink emojis

Rio:Mija?Are you texting a boy? Miles,texting Hobie:Technically yes but also literally no

Margo gets them to be on her streams and Miles ends up making her own channel and her fans nearly broke her comments section when Hobie made his first apperance(Tragic day for weird ass Miles fanboys)

Gwen and Peni start rubbing off on eachother,like Peni starting to love her kind of music and Gwen starting to get blunter

Pavitr is the most slang knowledgable and this is thanks to Gayatri-He surpassed the best there is

Miles and Hobie did the 'At Dairy Queen with my Dairy King' meme once but the picture wasn't them at Dairy Queen,it was them chilling with mutated cows they'd saved and they didn't even get the food at Dairy Queen,Hobie cooked them copies because fuck capitalism