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#and be their perfect student and all but eventually
johnbrand · 2 days
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Catch! (βΓΦ)
Have you ever taken a moment to consider how fraternities are still alive these days? We have seen them featured in movies, television, and more recently across social media, but what do they even stand for? Originally, they were built around the concept of brotherhood among younger men entering adulthood, inspiring “fraternal” bonds that could remain strong throughout their lifetimes. Now however, they seem to be constantly embroiled in controversy. Whether it pertains issues of hazing, rapid partying, or the classic sexual harassment, fraternities should be on their way out.
But somehow, they are still sticking around. And worse yet, they appear to be stronger than ever. Young men from around the country are flocking to these institutions–and with no common reason either. Everyone wants to find parties, but you can do that anywhere on a college campus. Everyone wants to make new adult friends, so why not join an extracurricular? Or hit up a peer in your class? There seems to be no valid excuse for all these students to be flocking towards an organized brotherhood. So that raises the question again, how are fraternities still around?
One may guess it is in the marketing. The rampant partying, the buff shirtless men, the fraternal bonds; all of these are enticing to the viewer. And to be granted all three in a package together is even more appealing. But it is much simpler than that. Thanks to modern technology–and fraternities' centuries-old bank accounts–brothers are able to recruit faster and easier than ever. Even if the public is hankering down on initiation rites, fraternities have grown past the point of lengthy periods. Their new members can join in under a minute.
Let us draw out an example. A few of fraternities sponsor a trip out to a private beach. They provide drinks, snacks, and entertainment. It is a common event, showcasing to new students some of the best aspects of being a brother. One of the fraternal brothers, Clay, is holding a football and searching for his next recipient.
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A member of Beta Gamma Phi (βΓΦ), Clay is tall, buff, and hairy, a perfect image of masculinity. From his chiseled jaw and strong stance, one can tell he has it all (like every fraternal brother does). Eventually, he spots his target: a junior specializing in mathematics.
“Catch!”
It is a simple command, and quickly the football is flying through the air. The pigskin itself appears rather ordinary, but as was mentioned before, technological and hefty financial advancements have made it anything but. Once activated by a brother’s touch, the leather absorbs the genetic print, the internal system downloading an almost identical copy. Of course, that copy cannot be completely accurate, otherwise fraternities would be running around with a bunch of clones (although some argue they already do). The imprint is just a base code, enough to replace the recipient’s genetic mainframe. The fine details are then adjusted accordingly by utilizing and recycling the remaining DNA.
Anyway, returning back to the scene, the enhanced initiation object flies toward the lonely junior. Christopher had only come here because his friend had begged him too, stating there was no reason not to partake in the festivities. A smaller-than-average lad lacking a strong will, he could often be a pushover, both in physical and social regards. So when he heard the strapping brother’s command, he did not think twice about turning around. And to his own shock, Christopher was able to catch the football, surprising himself as the leather made contact with his skin.
Once the contact is made, the fate is sealed: Beta Gamma Phi has secured its next brother. Clay’s genetic code is then rapidly installed into Christopher’s mainframe, his biological firewalls useless against the technology. Over the span of seconds, Clay is able to watch as his program is rescripted for Christopher’s body. The junior’s height soars up, easily passing the pseudo-mandatory "six feet and over" rule that all brothers silently abide by. Once that is secure, the muscles begin to inflate.
Firm pectorals, sculpted abdominals, arms that appeared engraved into stone. Christopher’s hands bloat around the football as his bare feet bloat out into the sand. Thick calves, beefy thighs, a plumper pouch and plumper rear. As Clay gets closer, he can visibly examine the flurries of hair that arise across Christopher’s previously-naked skin. Wider neck to support a deeper register, wider jaw to support a more masculine facial structure. Even Christopher’s hair, although a blonder brown compared to Clay’s almost-black, gels up into Clay’s signature hairstyle (although it was often hidden beneath a backwards baseball cap, as it was currently).
By the time Clay approaches βΓΦ’s newest brother, his genetic print had successfully completed installation. Christopher, or Chris as he would now insist to go by, held a near-identical copy of Clay’s mainframe. He displayed Clay’s musculature and masculinity, just in his own genetic font. And his mindset, values, and goals now mimicked the fraternal brother’s too. Chris would find his new purpose relishing in sports, sex, bonding with his brothers, and continuing this pattern through a career in exercise sciences. 
With a broad, pearly white smile and the football still in his right hand, Chris would then accept Clay’s invitation to join Beta Gamma Phi. Thanks to the technology, Chris would never know that he had had not once dreamed of becoming a fraternal brother, that his whole life had not been dedicated to upholding traditional masculinity. And eventually, it would be Chris and his fellow brothers’ turn to keep the fraternities alive by financing any options that would help them gain new members.
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moonstruckmoony · 23 hours
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So a long while ago @lamieboo tagged me in this post (I'm not reblogging bcs it'll be way too long sorry 😢) I made some art and wrote a whole one shot for it because it was the perfect opportunity for a Winter lore I've always wanted to make. Please be kind lol 💀 I haven't written in ages and I'm such a noob when it comes to writing, also English isn't my native language. I had to run my draft through multiple writing tools back and forth to find better phrasings and dictions that better express what I want to convey. Roughly ~1,000 words.
Green and Gold
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She stepped forward as the wardrobe creaked open, the boggart slipping through the narrow gap in the door. Long, flowing golden threads emerged first, and Winter drew in a sharp breath.
The rest of the boggart soon took form—a woman in a pale blue dress, slumped weakly on the floor, her calf bleeding from a deep slash. Golden locks framed her worried face, and her piercing blue eyes, so much like Winter’s own, locked onto hers. Winter’s hand instinctively went up to the scar across her left eye. The woman’s chest heaved with silent breaths. The faint murmur of the students lining up behind Winter faded until she could hear nothing. Then, the woman’s lips parted, as if to speak.
“Close your eyes, snowflake.”
Was that truly her mother’s voice? Winter couldn’t remember if boggarts could speak. Could they mimic human voices? Or was it only mouthing the words while the voice echoed from somewhere deep within her mind?
Her hands went clammy. A bead of sweat ran down the side of her face. 
She knows what’s coming next. Behind her mother’s beautiful, tear-streaked face, a blinding green light appeared. Winter swiftly squeezed her eyes shut and raised her wand. “Riddikulus,” she whispered, her voice trembling as she kept her eyelids tightly closed.
· · ─────── ·❄ ❅ ❆· ─────── · · Sebastian went pale, even as the swirling Mallowsweet leaves spun into a twister before him, which without question, the most mesmerising form of the Riddikulus charm he had ever seen. It wasn’t a form he would laugh at, unlike most transformations of the charm. It was breathtaking. But no, what had truly gripped him was the green light that followed her mother’s appearance. He had never seen Winter like this—paralysed by fear, gasping for breath, drenched in sweat. She was always so composed, so captivating. Full of life, curiosity, and wonder.
He hadn’t realised this was her deepest fear.
And it was the very same curse he had cast just last year. On his uncle. Right in front of her. What had she looked like back then? He couldn’t quite remember. The sound of her laboured breathing lingered faintly in his mind, and he recalled her standing frozen for a moment before following him as he fled the catacombs. But the look on her face—he had no memory of it. Was she shocked? Horrified? Traumatised? He had been too distraught, too consumed by his own turmoil, to notice. Merlin, how must she have felt? Watching her best friend cast the Killing Curse—the very same curse that had taken her mother’s life—right in front of her? His throat went dry. His insides twisted painfully. Clenching his hands into fists, he dug his nails into his palms.
Was this… was this the reason she had refused to learn the spell? Not that he had wanted her to; in fact, he had been relieved when she didn’t. But it left him with questions. She was his kindred spirit, after all, and he knew the Dark Arts intrigued her, even if it was purely out of curiosity and for the sake of knowing. She wanted to learn, and had learned the other two curses. He had thought, perhaps, she would eventually ask about the last one, even though he wasn’t sure if he could bear to teach her—not after what happened to Solomon, to himself.
To Anne. But she was adamant in her refusal to learn it. She had said so out of the blue, when they began speaking again after the catacombs—after weeks of silence between them. Now, he finally understood why. And his heart broke for her. “Sebastian? Sebastian, what just happened?” Ominis’ voice snapped him back to reality. His best friend’s face was filled with concern, surely anxious for not being able to see what’s happening. Just this time, Sebastian is glad he couldn’t. He wouldn’t want Ominis to witness her in such a state. He opened his mouth to respond, but nothing came out. He tried again, but his gaze drifted to Winter, who was slowly making her way towards them from the front of the line. Another student—Arthur Plummly, perhaps—stepped forward to face the boggart, but Sebastian hardly noticed. His focus was solely on Winter, her head bowed, arms wrapped tightly around herself, her body trembling slightly. “Winter…” She looked up at him, her eyes wide. They stood there for a moment, locked in each other's gaze. “I… I’m sorry.” He finally managed to speak. “What... what are you apologising for?” So much. Even though he’d already apologised to her and Ominis countless times, he hasn’t apologised for this one. “You—you know why.” He knew she understood. They’d always had a way of reading each other, and this was one of those moments. “That’s… It’s not—you shouldn’t…” She trailed off. And Sebastian was thankful she didn’t finish. Because he did feel like he should apologise. Even though hadn’t known about this, what he did that day might’ve stirred up memories she had buried deep down. Just like the cursed boggart had just now. Another silence passed before he slowly pulled her into an embrace. One hand rested on her back, the other gently cradling the back of her head. She froze at first, startled, but after a moment, her body softened into his arms as he tenderly stroked her hair. From his peripheral vision, Sebastian saw Ominis approached hesitantly. His alabaster hand tentatively found Winter’s smaller one, which still hung limply at her side, and she allowed their fingers to entwine. Sebastian could see the questions lingering in his best friend’s furrowed brows, but he’s certain that Winter would talk to him–she would explain everything to them when she’s ready.
He glanced forward, aware of the curious eyes from the students waiting in line—some watching with intrigue, others with quiet sympathy. It was a peculiar view, after all: Winter with her two best friends huddled together in such an unusual position. Up front, he caught sight of Amit ducking as his boggart morphed into harmless paper planes flying about after his successful Riddikulus. Sebastian hadn’t seen Amit’s boggart, but he imagined it was likely something ordinary, like a failing report card marked with a dreaded “T” in Astronomy or History of Magic.
None of that mattered now. The only person of importance was the girl in his arms, her trembling slowly subsiding, her once-laboured breathing easing into a soft, steady rhythm.
· · ─────── ·❄ ❅ ❆· ─────── · ·
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firefly-fez · 2 years
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hank and john i love u, ur doing amazing sweetie but do u have any idea how hard it is to sound professional and respectable when im emailing charities about the p4a. i am trying so hard to make this sound like a lucrative promitional opportunity and then i have to say ‘worldsuck’ with a straight face. like its a great term and it captures the impossible persistent reality of suffering and injustice like no other but. buddy. it dont exactly have a professional flair. i am trying to establish myself as a humanitarian advocate and honestly nerdfighteria is, like, a genuinely good foundation for that kind of advocacy and volunteerism but it’s a little like i am trying to build on an admittedly very sturdy steel frame that also happens to have a million little smiley face stickers all over it. like. this isn’t technically impeding me but i am concerned im going to raise some eyebrows.
#look maybe theres a lesson in this for me to be honest#after all those years of trying to be the prefect student the perfect girl to set myself up for good things in life#the thing that actually helped me get a leg up in the direction i truly wanted to go#was not in fact the hoity toity private school culture obsessed with reputation and prestige#but a couple of heartfelt and earnest nerds with known to cover their faves in sharpie#it makes sense doesnt it?#i was a sponsor to a girl in poverty and we were penpals and great friends#and i promised myself a long time ago whatever i make of my education would be to benefit kids like her#i want to make good on that promise but i have no idea how#so for a while there i bought into the idea that i should be impressive and successful and have resources and opportunities and good grades#and be their perfect student and all but eventually#eventually i fell from grace by becoming a little more like my friend than my prestige obsessed culture is comfortable with#and i realised i had turned myself into a perfect piece of propaganda for them to wave around as an example of why you should give em money#but at my least successful i was more has more understanding more nuance and more insight into the trials of my friend and ppl like her#i should have realised it would have me branded as a class traitor that i would never learn it from the School of Prestige#i wanted to be a student and you wanted me to be impressive#you cant exploit my intellect for your propaganda anymore i will not use it for you#i will not paint over curiosity or compassion or enthusiasm any more#i am free of you / i will take all the riches you gave me / and betray you by making no profit#but give freely and generously to those you kept out of your golden gates#you thought they werent good enough for you but there is wealth that you will never know in their hearts that you cannot see#because you only think of wealth as someting you can possess#there are riches in this world beyond your pocket; false prophet#i know now that i have sold too much of myself to you#i know now that if i continue in my plight to be good enough i am drawing a line between myself and the disadvantaged#dishonour them to exhalt myself and feed them the lie that human worth is earnt won and proven by feats purposefully impossible for most#my people love to brag about being the ‘land of opportunity’ but leave out the years they spent stealing; cheating; killing; plundering#that made ‘opportunity’ impossible everywhere else#now they have the gall to applaud themselves for success and lie about winning fair and square#gaslighting to forget all the world’s history and they almost had me fooled
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quin-ns · 9 months
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Always Forever (Coriolanus Snow x Reader)
Word count: 8.2K
Summary: coriolanus finally lets himself acknowledge that he can’t stand to see you with anyone but him
Tags: (18+), cw: dubcon, cw: noncon, pseudo!incest (not related, reader raised with the snows), dark!coriolanus, pre-mentor era, jealousy/obsession/possessiveness, oral (f receiving), fingering, p in v sex, fear of getting caught, lots of drama for my lovely readers
A/N: second coryo fic and it’s somehow longer than the last one lol. only one part. pls read the tags and proceed with caution 🫶
hunger games masterlist
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“Look at you, you look so pretty!” Tigris beamed, adjusting the straps of your dress. “Doesn’t she, Coryo?”
In his peripheral, Coriolanus could see his cousin had turned to look at him expectantly, but his eyes were already on you. They always had been, and always would be.
“Yes, she does,” he replied without thought.
You faced him with a smile, and Coriolanus couldn’t help the pride that swarmed him just looking at you.
It was because of him that you were in his life, and until the day he died Coriolanus knew it would remain the best decision he ever made.
As children during the war, when he and Tigris would scavenge the streets, Coriolanus stumbled across you. Not much younger than him, huddled behind a pillar, all alone. You had a half a loaf of bread. It wasn’t fresh, but he still didn’t understand where you got it. You tore it in half and shared it with him.
He returned to Tigris with you in tow, his small hand clutching your even smaller one, and his cousin took pity.
She also took the brunt of the consequence for bringing home another mouth to feed, but sacrifices had to be made, didn’t they?
It was worth it. You were worth it to him—to both of them, really.
As you got older, Grandma’am eventually took a liking to you, although Coriolanus wondered if it was because she could see how much he cared for you.
It didn’t matter. Not really. You were part of the family now, even if you did not share the Snow name.
“Thank you, Tigris,” you said sweetly, pulling the older girl into a hug.
It was a big day for both you and Coriolanus. The academy was hosting an event for students to mingle with administration and alumni of the university.
Coriolanus had put on his best outfit—he already knew it was the same one he was going to wear when the Plinth Prize winner was announced in only a few weeks. He was sure it was going to be him.
Tigris had fashioned your dress by hand. Coriolanus was past questioning how she paid for her fine fabrics, but he had an inclination it was the same way they could suddenly afford food some days.
The long dress reminded Coriolanus of freshly fallen snow, the white holding a sense of purity and wealth that his family once had. It had a sense of elegance that you only furthered with donning it, but it lacked an extravagance that would force you to stand out.
It was perfect.
You parted from Tigris to approach Coriolanus. You had a light smile on your face as your hands ran down his black vest, adjusting it.
“We almost match,” you commented, referring to the white shirt beneath said vest. “If only I had something black.”
“Well, I’d let you borrow this, but then we’d be in the same position, only switched,” he teased lightly, drawing a small chuckle from you.
Coriolanus liked when you looked up at him, same as he liked hearing your laugh.
“Don’t worry, I’ll survive without.” Your hands fell to your sides. “Besides, it definitely looks more handsome on you.”
Hearing those words from you meant more than you’d ever know, and more than he’d let himself acknowledge.
You were so good to him, he couldn’t imagine spending the evening with anyone else.
When he walked into the ballroom of the academy with you on his arm, Coriolanus got a rush of power. Especially when heads turned. Looking at him, looking at you, just looking.
He wondered what the minds behind all those gazing eyes were thinking.
He hoped it was a balanced amount of envy and respect.
“We should find Sejanus, let him know we’re here,” you said, not thinking much of the sentence as you looked around the room, taking in the people and the decor.
Coriolanus thought everything of it, a sourness settling over him. Sejanus was his friend, but Coriolanus wished they hadn’t gotten as close as they did. It was because of his friendship with Sejanus that you met him, and began to develop… feelings for him.
God, Coriolanus hated to even think about it.
When you told him you had begun dating Sejanus, Coriolanus nearly had a heart attack. Then he felt violent. Not towards you. Never towards you.
It wasn’t just because he felt protective of you, or because Sejanus was district, or because Coriolanus knew you were far, far too good for his friend… it was everything. All of that and everything in between.
Before you could find him, Sejanus found you.
He was in a fine black suit, finer than anything Coriolanus owned, and a bright smile appeared on his face at the sight of you.
That was one thing they still had in common. Reverence for you.
“Had to come find my girl before everyone thinks she ditched me,” Sejanus joked, pulling a laugh from you. “Where have you guys been?”
“Making sure we look our best,” you replied, shooting Coriolanus a wink.
If Sejanus wasn’t reaching for you, Coriolanus might’ve smiled.
“Well, you did a wonderful job.”
Coriolanus let you slip away from his side, reluctantly giving you away to Sejanus.
The unfortunate thing was Sejanus was truly a decent person. Not perfect, but decent. Better than most, even if he was beneath you all. You cared nothing for status, and seemed to really like him. He treated you right from what Coriolanus had seen, making disapproval not exactly warranted.
Although, Coriolanus was always going to be incredibly protective of you. He doubted there was a world where he would be pleased with any relationship you found. Your interest in other people was becoming tiresome, truthfully. Did you really even need friends? Or lovers? You had Coriolanus, and he was sure that was enough.
His jaw clenched when you pressed a light kiss to Sejanus’s cheek. It would be much simpler if he was a terrible person. Coriolanus would have an excuse outside of his own selfishness to separate you—which he did not have now.
“Can I ask for this dance?” Sejanus wondered, shooting you a smile. At least he had the awareness to still look anxious.
But you… you grinned. You were too good.
“Well you just asked, so I guess you can,” you started sarcastically, but let him off the hook quickly. “And of course I’ll say yes.”
Sejanus looked relieved, taking your hand in his. You turned to look at Coriolanus, a small bit of guilt in your expression. You clearly hadn’t been planning on leaving his side so soon. You masked it with the same teasing tone you’d used before.
“I won’t be long, don’t get too bored without me, Coryo.”
Coriolanus only smiled for your sake. It fell the moment Senjanus led you away to a small group of other students dancing together.
From the sidelines, Coriolanus watched as Sejanus led you in a slow dance. He tried to avoid his eyes landing on his friend. He didn’t want to view the two of you in the same light as the other couples embracing one another.
Coriolanus tried to remember the first moment he realized how beautiful you were. It was so long ago, it wasn’t something he was even aware he thought so often.
The sun rose in the morning, roses had thorns, and you were beautiful.
It was simple as that.
After a dance and a half, Coriolanus couldn’t take it anymore.
His feet carried him to the dance floor, mind absent as he tried to justify his jealousy as protectiveness. Yes, that’s all he was. Protective. Like an older brother… like what he was supposed to be. Even if it wasn’t what he wanted to be.
You and Sejanus were swaying and talking, but as he snuck up on the two of you, Coriolanus couldn’t make out the words. It didn’t matter.
You turned your head to look at him, smiling in surprise at his presence.
“Coryo!”
“Can I cut in?” Coriolanus requested. His hand itched to rest on your shoulder, but he withheld. He wasn’t going to take no for an answer, and he briefly wondered if Sejanus sensed that or not.
“All yours,” Sejanus agreed, spinning you by the hand. You turned in a circle, then a half, facing Coriolanus. “I’m going to go find my father, he’s here tonight,” he informed.
“I’ll come find the two of you in a few minutes,” you told Sejanus, who nodded then headed off. Before he did, he looked to Coriolanus and said, “Take good care of her.”
“I always do,” Coriolanus responded easily, because it was the truth. He didn’t need Sejanus telling him that. He’d been there for you long before either of you even knew his friend existed. He looked down to you, taking your hand in his while the other fell to your waist. You looked amused. “I do, don’t I?”
“Yes, Coryo,” you replied with a smile. “Better than anyone.”
The slow waltz felt so natural, your movements in tune with his without thought. You two were always like that, always in sync.
“What were you and Sejanus talking about?” Coriolanus wondered, curiosity getting the best of him.
“Nothing important,” you dismissed with a shrug. “Sweet nothings.”
Coriolanus didn’t miss the shy smile appearing on your face. He couldn’t control the frown trying to take over his.
A more thoughtful look crossed your face, your smile faltering.
“Are you happy for me, Coryo?”
Coriolanus blinked.
“I… want to be,” he confessed, eyes scanning your face. It was the truth for the most part. He did want you to be happy, just not with Sejanus.
You nodded slowly, taking in his words. Coriolanus wished he could open your head and investigate every corner of your brain. He wanted to know every thought you had.
“Sejanus is your friend, I would’ve thought…” you swallowed and looked away. “Never mind.”
“No, what is it?” Coriolanus pressed, tilting his head, trying to make you meet his gaze.
When you did, he saw the disappointment in your eyes.
You stepped back from him, parting completely.
“I need to find Sejanus. I’ll put in a good word for you about the Plinth Prize with his father.”
Then, you departed, not leaving room for Coriolanus to argue for you to stay.
He would’ve, and you knew that.
The moment you disappeared from his view, Coriolanus went looking. You had moved quickly. He found you across the room, sitting down at a table with Sejanus and Mr. Plinth.
He didn’t approach, he couldn’t make himself look bad in front of Mr. Plinth.
So he watched you talk, and drink, and laugh, and drink some more…
“I can’t believe she’s doing this,” Arachne whispered, suddenly appearing at his side. Coriolanus looked down at her. She was clearly talking about you. He could see the way she flicked her heavily decorated eyes in your direction. “Associating with him was one thing, but… well”—Arachne let out a vicious laugh—“do you think their children will call her “Ma” too?”
Coriolanus felt ill at the thought. Leave it to Arachne to provoke him, to conjure up nightmares he hadn’t even thought of yet himself.
“She’ll come to her senses,” Coriolanus muttered, gritting his teeth.
Arachne rolled her eyes. “Let’s hope so,” she mused, continuing on her way, blood red dress dragging behind her with each step.
Coriolanus looked back to you. He was overwhelmed with nausea as Sejanus grabbed your hand atop the table. Damn Arachne for placing that thought in his head.
He watched as you lifted another glass to your lips, smiling along as Sejanus talked to his father. What was that, your third? Sejanus had yet to say anything to you. He was fine with allowing you to get intoxicated?
Drinking alcohol wasn’t exactly a crime, but Sejanus didn’t know you well enough to know you were inexperienced. The last thing Coriolanus wanted was you making a fool of yourself.
Darker thoughts crept in. Maybe Sejanus was allowing you to inebriate yourself on purpose. The thought of him climbing on top to you made Coriolanus’s blood boil. His fingers twitched to form a fist, and his jaw clenched even tighter.
In that moment, Coriolanus decided he wouldn’t let Arachne’s mockery come true.
He had to help you. You needed his protection, even when you didn’t know it. You needed him. You always would. Coriolanus could remind you, then perhaps you'd see you didn’t even need Sejanus at all.
When you left the table—Coriolanus wasn’t sure why—he saw his opportunity. He approached you quickly, finding no problem in catching your arm and leading you away from the party. Away from all the people, where it could just be the two of you.
Out a door, down a long, empty corridor until the two of you ended up outside in the school’s garden. It was isolated from the party, you’d be safer here.
“Coryo? What—“
“Are you alright?” Coriolanus asked, cutting you off. He released you to stand across from you, leaving you to lean back against the stone wall behind you. “I saw how much you were drinking.”
You looked up at him, confused, but not frightened. If anyone else had handled you the way he did, you surely would’ve been. But you trusted him. You always had.
“Did I drink a lot?” you asked, a slight pout on your lips. “I didn’t notice.”
“Oh.” So, you were okay. That was good, wasn’t it? “I thought maybe you needed rescuing,” he admitted, unsure whether to feel embarrassed or not.
You chuckled a little and the sound washed over Coriolanus, bringing him a sense of relief from all his previous tension.
“My hero,” you said lightly, smiling up at him. You were always smiling at him, but Coriolanus no longer wondered if he was worthy of it all. “You’re always there for me, aren’t you?”
Coriolanus stepped closer. His hand rose, his fingertips trailing the outline of your face. Someone so pretty, so sweet, had to be careful in a cruel world like this.
“What would you do without me?” he proposed, not expecting an answer.
You didn’t need one, because you never would have to find out.
He’d follow you to the end of the Earth, just as he knew you’d follow him. You needed each other. You didn’t need Tigris or Grandma’am and especially not Sejanus, but without Coriolanus, who would you even be? Coriolanus couldn’t imagine his world without you in it. Not even if he tried.
Staring at you now, Coriolanus heard the voice in the back of his mind begin to whisper. The one that urged his protectiveness, knowing it was fueled by possession. The one he would use all his power to silence.
Something new had overcome him, watching you galavant around with Sejanus. Well, not new, but clear. Coriolanus finally had clarity. That’s what it was. That was how he finally acknowledged what had so long been lingering in his peripheral, just on the edge of his mind, waiting for the right moment.
Was this the right moment?
He made no effort to banish his most repressed thoughts. For once, he let them win.
Coriolanus leaned down, pressing his lips to yours. Gentle, testing the waters. You did not react right away. Maybe it wasn’t necessarily a good sign, but that didn’t stop him from using it as an excuse to deepen the kiss.
His other hand found your face, holding you against him as he nipped at your lip, begging you to invite him in.
Your reaction was delayed, and Coriolanus thought maybe, just maybe, you had been thinking the same thing he had all along. That the faint taste of alcohol on your lips meant you were feeling more open to exploring this with him, and that all you needed was a nudge in the right direction.
But no, you were turning your head, making his lips part from yours.
Coriolanus faltered, but you still did not speak. Your breaths were clipped—flustered and confused. He could understand that. His own heart was racing, although adrenaline and need were to blame for that.
“Coryo…” you whispered so softly he nearly didn’t hear it. “What are you doing?”
Leave it to you to not get angry with him. Or even upset. At this point he questioned if you were even capable of feeling anger at him.
Coriolanus stepped closer, making you have to tilt your head up to look at him.
“I don’t think I can share you,” he confessed under his breath, but with conviction. “I know I can’t and you… you don’t need anyone else. You have me.”
You swallowed, eyes looking down. “Sejanus—“
“Doesn’t know you like I do,” Coriolanus finished, one hand still holding your cheek, tilting your head, making you meet his eye again. “Seeing you with him… he’s not good enough for you.”
“I thought you were above judging him for being district.” You sounded so disappointed in him.
“I don’t care that he’s district, he’s not good enough because no one will ever be,” Coriolanus corrected, imploring you to understand.
With a light sigh, his eyes fell shut. Gently, he leaned to press his forehead to yours. He blindly reached for your hands, and found them in each of his with no problem.
“I would not be happy seeing you with anyone else,” Coriolanus confessed, voice low. “Not anyone but me.”
You inhaled slightly. Was it that big of a shock?
He gave you no chance to voice it because Coriolanus was capturing your lips again, passion erupting in his veins.
His mind was clouded with thoughts that fought for center attention, his built up desires controlling him as his hands and lips cascaded down your body. Your neck, your chest, your stomach—
“Coryo, what are you doing?” you questioned when he began to move lower.
“Shh, don’t worry,” he cooed, dismissing your concern.
Coriolanus finally fell to his knees in front of you. He’d never take such a humiliating position for anyone else. But with you, it didn’t feel humiliating. It was exhilarating, knowing he was on his knees worshiping you, but he still held all the power. It was nearly perfect.
You gasped a little when he gripped your right leg and maneuvered it over his shoulder. More of your weight rested back against the wall, unable to stand straight on just one leg.
He looked upward, watching your face the entire time as he pushed your dress up around your hips, revealing your underwear to him.
Coriolanus was so close and you had yet to move.
Words couldn’t find their way to his lips. It was all too overwhelming in the best way. His heart slamming against his rib cage was a welcome feeling, and so was the pressure on his knees.
You bucked away before his mouth could reach your core. Coriolanus didn’t think much of it. He had a lot of other images rushing through his brain. Ones he wanted to become reality.
He scooted forward and tried again, this time making contact with the layer of fabric separating him from your most intimate spot.
Coriolanus heard a choked noise from you as he ran his tongue across the front of your underwear.
Right away, he wanted more.
His hands found the material acting as a barrier and he gripped it then pulled, tearing it from you one leg at a time, exposing you to him.
Before it could fall to the ground, he caught the shredded material and stuffed it into his pocket.
He felt a bit guilty, knowing how little you all had when it came to clothing, but he wanted to do this the right way. Coriolanus wanted nothing blocking him from showing you how good he could make you feel.
As much as his eyes were tempted to linger, impatience got the best of him.
He made contact again, licking a stripe across your bare cunt. Once he got a taste, Coriolanus couldn’t hold back.
His mouth latched onto you, tongue sliding between your folds, drawing a stifled moan from you. You reached for his head, trying to knock him away, but Coriolanus persisted. His will easily overtook yours. You weren’t going to take this away from him, not when he could make you want it just as bad.
He held onto the leg over his shoulder, gripping your flesh, surely leaving bruises in his wake. He held the skirt of your dress up with the other hand. With his mouth, he devoured you. Lapping at your core like a man starved, even more so when wetness began to form.
This wasn’t something Coriolanus had done, but he knew you better than anyone. He was sure he could figure out your body. He’d dreamt about it long enough, making you fall apart for him in such an intimate way.
He soon found that to be the truth when in only a matter of minutes your body was tensing. He continued to drag his tongue across you, giving every bit of you his full attention. He liked the way your thighs quivered when his tongue brushed your clit, it gave him an excuse to hold you tighter.
Your whole body flinched suddenly, but he shoved your hips back, pinning you to the wall as he brought you to the edge
His own pants felt constricted as his senses were overwhelmed by you. Your taste, your scent, the sound of your choked down moans, your hands smacking the wall (unsure what else to do), the feel of you against his tongue and how your leg strained over his shoulder, and the sight of you when he looked up through his lashes… god, you were magnificent.
You whimpered from above, teeth digging into your bottom lip, as he finally made you come undone.
Coriolanus held you still, relishing in the way you finally jolted into his touch instead of away.
He couldn’t take his eyes off of you. You were the stuff of dreams in the most literal sense.
Your head tilted back against the wall, your ragged breaths causing your chest to rise and fall in an unsteady pattern. Your leg, still draped over his shoulder, was tense, even as he pressed a gentle kiss to your inner thigh.
A wide grin spread across Coriolanus’s face when you shivered. He couldn’t help himself. He nearly chuckled at your state, but then your hand moved to rake through his wavy locks. The sound caught in his throat as you tugged him away, finally looking down at him. The all consuming pleasure had faded into something more composed.
Coriolanus could tell how much of an effort you were making, and as your eyes struggled to focus, he briefly wondered how strong your drinks were.
“I’d like to go home now,” you said slowly, conscious not to let your voice falter.
You allowed him to help get both to your feet on the ground, but you did not touch him for the rest of the night, even when he tried to reach for you.
He was still hard behind the confines of his pants, imagining the slickness between your thighs that was the result of his actions. As you walked back through the ballroom, it took everything he had to not push you back against a nearby wall. People be damned, he wanted you more than anything.
He would press his chest to your back—no, he’d make you face him. Coriolanus wanted access to your lips so he could kiss you as much as he liked, even swallow down your moans when he lifted your dress around your stomach and—
A shiver of excitement coursed through Coriolanus’s body. What would your darling Sejanus think if he knew what just transpired? If he knew it was only for your dignity that Coriolanus wasn’t fucking you against the wall hard enough that you forgot where you even were?
You silently bid the party a farewell, forgetting to say goodbye to Sejanus (Coriolanus made no attempts to remind you). You continued to ignore him, hardly speaking and not even looking his way. Not as you walked from the school to the apartment. Stumbling up the stairs, you only spoke to claim you were fine as you gripped the handrail for dear life. Then you went back to silence as you traveled from the front door to your bedroom and locked the door.
Coriolanus only found out about the door because he’d tried to follow you in, but the door knob did not budge. You never used your lock.
Even if you weren’t ready to finish what had been started, it was still incredibly cold. Were you really upset enough to deprive him of your presence until the morning?
“What’s going on with you?” Coriolanus asked through the layer of wood. The taste of you still lingered on his tongue as it traced his bottom lip, waiting for your response. “Can we talk? Can you open the door?”
He gripped the knob tighter and tried again. It wasn’t going to suddenly unlock, but something urged him to prove it.
There was a faint thud as his forehead fell to the door, much as it had to yours not too long ago.
“Can I at least say goodnight to you?”
Again, no response.
He swallowed. Cleared his throat.
Again.
“Please?”
If they could afford to fix it, Coriolanus would break the door down.
He wasn’t sure how long he stood outside your door before begrudgingly going to his own room.
He laid in his bed and fished the underwear from his pocket. Your scent still lingered on them, and it was enough to fuel his imagination as he unbuttoned his pants and pretended his own hand on his cock was yours.
Even after finishing, Coriolanus had a nearly sleepless night. His mind was plagued with memories of his lips on yours, your dress bunched around your hips, him on his knees with his mouth on your cunt. He’d never forget the sounds you made.
When the sun rose, he returned to your door, only to find it still locked. He didn’t even knock, just simply grabbed the door knob and twisted.
You always woke up early for school, putting yourself together in a way that could reflect wealth that you did not truly have. Coriolanus was sure you did it for his sake, knowing how much appearances mattered to him.
You were good to him like that.
If only you’d let him in now.
The laugh that escaped him lacked humor. It was a bitter, frustrated sound.
His hands rested on his hips, his own fingertips pressing in. It was that or gripping the door knob and if he touched that thing again and found it locked…
“This isn’t funny anymore, Y/N,” Coriolanus called through the door. “If there’s a problem we can talk about it. Just stop acting like a child.”
“What, did she steal your blazer again?” Tigris wondered, appearing out of nowhere. Despite her voice being soft with sleep, Coriolanus was still startled.
“No, just a minor disagreement,” Coriolanus replied, quick on his feet as always. “Nothing to worry about, I’m sure we’ll talk it out.”
He emphasized the word ‘talk’, hoping you’d hear him through the door. If you did, he wouldn’t know. Tigris, on the other hand, just nodded and headed for the kitchen.
The smile he gave his cousin on her way was forced. She couldn’t tell that his teeth were clenched together, which was for the best.
A thought dawned on him. You could just be testing him.
Coriolanus knocked on the door and waited, like he’d just solved your puzzle.
What was that thing about insanity—trying the same thing over and over and expecting a different result?
“You’re going to have to come out of your room at some point,” he reminded, trying his best to make it not sound like a warning.
Coriolanus wasn’t used to being frustrated with you. You were usually his relief from people who made him feel this way. He didn’t understand why everything changed all of the sudden.
You’d enjoyed yourself while he got what he wanted. Why was that so bad?
You had always been an enigma, but Coriolanus felt as if he’d come to understand you—that he was the only one who did or would.
Sejanus would never know you the way he did, that was for certain.
From in your room, Coriolanus heard movement. Your dresser opening, maybe. It didn’t matter. You were awake. And ignoring him.
“Y/N? I know you’re awake.” The neediness in his voice was embarrassing. No one else could make him resort to this. “I can hear you. Are you coming out?”
“What is going on?” Grandma’am questioned, standing at the end of the hall. “You aren’t dressed for school. We can’t have you being late.”
Coriolanus looked down at himself. He’d gone to sleep in the outfit he’d worn the night before, and still wore it now.
Arguments died in his throat. You and Coriolanus walked to the academy together. You’d have to come out and talk to him. Grandma’am would drive you crazy if you missed a day of classes.
In record time, Coriolanus was in his uniform.
He might’ve been quick, but apparently you were quicker. As he opened the door to his room, he heard the front door shut.
“Whatever you did, Coryo, apologize,” Tigris advised when he chased the sound of your exit.
Coriolanus just looked at her. Why on Earth would he do that? He’d done nothing wrong.
Down the stairs and out of the building, Coriolanus finally—finally—got a glimpse of you. A flash of red as you turned the corner, setting off down the sidewalk.
It took nothing for him to catch up to you.
“How are you feeling?” he wondered first, recalling your drunken state. “I was worried about you.”
“Were you?” you challenged, eyes forward.
It was good to hear your voice, but Coriolanus furrowed his brows at your tone. You had no reason to be this rude.
“Of course I was, Y/N. How can you even ask me that?” His hand dropped to your shoulder, only for you to shrug it away. “What is wrong with you?”
You looked at him, finally, but the emotion in your gaze… there was something wrong with it. Something distant, lacking the affection those beautiful eyes of yours usually held for him.
Coriolanus swallowed.
“Are you really going to be like this? Is it because of Sejanus? You don’t have to be with him anymore.”
You turned your head forward.
“Leave me alone, I’d like to walk in silence.”
Since when had you become so spiteful? Coriolanus didn’t like it. It evoked something similar in him. He leaned down, getting near your ear.
“You liked it, I know you did,” he hissed out. Coriolanus hadn’t meant for it to come out so harsh, but you were being completely unfair to him right now. “You can’t lie to me.”
Despite the way you shuddered, your jaw remained clenched. You not talking to him was more infuriating than if you had screamed in his face. At least that way he could tell what you were thinking. But no, you wouldn’t allow him to be privy to your inner thoughts, no matter how much effort he put into prying them from you.
It wasn’t a conversation for the public, even Coriolanus knew that, so when you got to the academy a few steps ahead of him, he bit his tongue.
“What did you do to piss off your sister?” Clemensia asked him in a whisper in class. “You’re usually attached at the hip walking in.”
The way she called you his sister felt wrong in a way that it hadn’t before. Even if he never thought it fit when people would say that or assume it, something had shifted.
And was it that obvious? Coriolanus hadn’t even brought it up. He’d simply been a few steps behind you into the classroom. You’d gone to your desk without a word. Was that strange to everyone else too? It was validating, in a way, to know your behavior was, in fact, targeted and odd, but it also made him wonder what the two of you appeared to be from an outside perspective.
“It’s nothing,” Coriolanus lied to her under his breath, keeping his eyes on his paper.
“So you didn’t get into a fight?”
Coriolanus’s brows curved down. He glanced her way.
“A fight?”
“Arachne and Festus saw you pull her away from Sejanus and disappear somewhere last night.”
It was mostly the truth, but she said it so nonchalantly. She couldn’t know what happened after you disappeared. Coriolanus hadn’t seen a single person lay their eyes on either of you in that private moment.
“I get it,” she continued. “I wouldn’t want to be associated with someone from the districts either. She’s not thinking about how she’ll be perceived, or you. Don’t let her drag you down.”
Coriolanus just listened, the night flashing through his mind. No one could’ve known, there was no way.
He quickly corrected the hypocrisy in his own mind. He hadn’t done anything wrong, it was just private. No one else deserved to see you in that state—no one but him.
“We’re fine,” Coriolanus told her. “And her and Sejanus aren’t together anymore.”
Clemensia smirked to herself. “Good.”
Word spread quickly, and with the way you avoided Sejanus—a byproduct of you avoiding Coriolanus—everyone believed it. The final nail was the way you failed to appear at lunch. It got under Sejanus’s skin, causing him to question the state of your relationship without you to answer any said questions.
Truthfully, Coriolanus hadn’t seen anything as amusing in a long while, but your absence weighed on him, too.
The walk home alone was dreadful without you. Even in the morning when you had ignored him, it was better than you being completely gone.
When he got home, your door was shut. How quickly had you left your classes, how fast had you walked, all to avoid him?
This was growing old very, very quickly.
Grandma’am was on the roof with her roses, and Tigris seemed to be missing from the apartment. It was only because of that that Coriolanus devised a way to get into your room.
Why he didn’t think of picking the lock before, Coriolanus supposed it was because he thought you’d give in quicker and let him get the better of you. You were usually weak to him, allowing him to get his way without a problem. You had before.
“Last chance,” Coriolanus called through the locked door. He almost thought that would be enough. He wanted you to open it of your own will. “You can’t avoid me forever, just let me in.”
No such luck.
You looked surprised when he forced the door open, as if you really believed he would just take the loss. You were supposed to know him better than that.
You’d been sitting on your bed in pajamas, evidently already done with the day. Your legs were criss-crossed with a textbook in your lap. You looked up at him, a questioning expression taking over your features.
“What are you doing, Coryo?” you asked, voice low, eyes not quite meeting his directly.
“You weren’t opening the door.” Coriolanus squared his shoulders. “I wanted to talk to you.”
You shook your head, something between a sigh and a laugh escaping you in a puff of air. Coriolanus did not like the accusatory undertone.
“Did you think maybe I left it locked on purpose?” Were you mocking him? “That I wasn’t lying this morning and I really don’t want to speak to you?”
“That’s ridiculous,” Coriolanus insisted, closing your door behind him. He moved towards your bed, watching your body language the entire time as he finally sat on the edge beside you. “You thought I would just let you ignore me?”
You swallowed, closing the book in your lap. “I guess not,” you admitted, setting the textbook aside. “I am well aware of your ego.”
A frown crested Coriolanus’s lip. “Is that what this is—you want to hurt me?”
You tilted your head, catching his gaze, much like he’d made you do the night before. It was the first time in nearly a day since you’d looked him dead in the eye.
“What do you want, Coryo?”
“I want you”
“You want me to what? Not be with Sejanus? Is that it? Is that why you did what you did?”
“You say that like it was something awful. I was there too.” Coriolanus felt a familiar heat rush through him at the memory. “I know what I saw.”
“You humiliated me.”
“In front of who? No one saw us.”
“That’s not the point.”
“Then what is? Because you know Sejanus is weak?” Coriolanus searched your eyes and leaned in closer. He was feeling antagonistic. “I mean, how could he touch you, knowing I got there first?”
Coriolanus caught your hand as you raised it, presumably to strike him.
“Is that what we’ve resorted to?”
He squeezed your wrist, enough to cause pain. You winced and tried to move away, but Coriolanus wasn’t going to let you get away.
“I could ask you the same,” you sneered, sounding like an entirely different person.
“What has happened to you?” Coriolanus questioned. He took a breath. “Do you want me to be sorry for what I’ve said? Fine, then, I apologize. But I’m not sorry for what I’ve done. You should not be with him.”
“I’m supposed to believe someone driven by jealousy?” you inquired back, blinking back tears. Why were you being so dramatic? “How can I trust anything you have to say to me now?”
Coriolanus was taken aback by the question. Did you really not trust him anymore? Even with the tight hold on your wrist, he could feel you slipping from his grasp. If you were to leave him, he’d never forgive the universe for its twisted irony. Coriolanus put so much time and care into you because he wanted you. His family didn’t, at least not at first, but even so, you’d have nothing if it wasn’t for him. Is that what you wanted to leave him with now? Nothing? Nothing but the memory of when you were his?
No, that wouldn’t do.
It just wouldn’t.
“You can trust me, I promise,” Coriolanus insisted, pleading, even. “I love you, I always have—you can’t have expected me to sit back and do nothing while you…”
You looked more betrayed, if that was even possible. He was trying to make it better but explaining was only making it worse. Coriolanus had never met a person where the more he talked, the more he tried to persuade them, they believed him less. In that way again you were an anomaly.
If Coriolanus couldn’t tell you, he could show you. He had to make you understand—he could salvage this and get what he wanted in the end. If he was anything, it was persistent. It had worked before, excluding the aftermath.
Coriolanus moved, keeping his hold on your wrist as he shoved you down, pulling himself up and then on top of you in a fluid motion.
You squirmed, questioning, “What are you doing?”
Coriolanus caught your other hand and brought it to join your other wrist he already had a hold of in one hand. He straddled your waist, keeping your body pinned.
“You won’t listen to me,” he pointed out. Something inside him urged him to lean down. “But I can still prove it to you, that it’s me you should be with. No one else.”
Then he crashed his lips onto yours. It was more forceful than it had been the previous night, ensuring you couldn’t turn away again. His tongue was already in your mouth before you thought to turn your head.
It didn’t matter if you didn’t kiss him back, Coriolanus was in bliss. Your lips were soft, molding perfectly to his. You moaned into his mouth, or maybe it was a protest, but it made his body heat up all the same. Coriolanus couldn’t get enough of you. Last night left him wanting more, not less.
More than that, he was determined. When he finally detached his lips from yours, the both of you panting, Coriolanus set forth on a track that wouldn’t allow him to turn around.
Even if he tried to take it back, everything would already be changed.
So he didn’t even bother hesitating. Coriolanus was determined, even, at yanking your clothes from your body.
Your words were jumbled by the time they reached his ears. His own heart racing with excitement drowned out any requests you had for him.
The word “stop” left his vocabulary until you yelled it too loud for his liking.
Your whole body shook when he clapped his hand over your mouth. Your top was completely gone, your chest heaving as you breathed through your nose. While Coriolanus could’ve easily been distracted by your state, he trained his eyes on your wide ones.
The word helpless crossed his mind, and he had to take a moment to control himself.
“Grandma’am is upstairs,” Coriolanus finally warned, voice low. “Don’t disturb her.”
You blinked. Coriolanus was almost surprised by the way you settled down, but it told him you understood the implications of alerting her.
Your position beneath Coriolanus had to be better than starving and cold on the street, didn’t it?
You didn’t have Sejanus anymore. If you thought you did, Coriolanus would make sure to remedy that with his friend before you got to him first.
As Coriolanus lifted his hand from your mouth, he silently implored he was the only one who could save you from being branded a liar.
Just as Coriolanus had always admired, you were a quick learner. As heartbroken as you looked, you didn’t raise your voice again.
“This isn��t how you make me want to be with you,” you pleaded. Coriolanus wasn’t sure whether to laugh or take it as a challenge.
“We’ll see,” he mused in response.
He got you bare, and then himself.
You averted your eyes from his body, which offended him more than he thought it would.
“You can look,” Coriolanus said, voice heavy.
Something about his voice must’ve gotten to you, because your eyes flicked between his legs. You swallowed and looked back away.
A prideful smirk overtook Coriolanus’s face.
He moved then, still keeping hold on your wrists in one hand, dragging them down over your belly, and placed himself between your legs.
With one hand still holding your wrists, Coriolanus shoved his other hand in between your legs, two prodding fingers finding your entrance before making their way in. Eagerness won out over his patience. He could take things slow later.
You tensed around him, fighting the intrusion, but he wasn’t going to let you win. Even if you weren’t squirming against him, you were resistant. Coriolanus slowly worked at breaking your resolve, massaging his fingers inside your walls, thumb on your clit.
He could see shame wash over your features when a wetness began to form, coating his fingers and allowing him to work you open for him.
“See, you can lie to me, but your body can’t,” Coriolanus asserted, voice thick with arousal.
That triggered something in you, and perhaps Coriolanus reacted too harshly.
It felt like it all happened in a flash. One moment you were on your back, beneath him, clenching around his fingers, and the next he had to manhandle you onto your chest and knees to fend off your attack and keep you still. He regained his hold on your hands quickly, pinning them behind your back while you panted from the short lived exertion.
Coriolanus leaned down to press his lips to your ear.
“I thought we agreed you weren’t going to fight me,” he growled.
Your shoulders shifted as you found further discomfort in your new position, but you didn’t speak. You wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of your voice—just like before.
Coriolanus wanted to watch your face as you submitted to him and his love for you, but if this was the only way he could have you for now, so be it.
He lined himself up with your entrance, enjoying the twitch of your body as he pressed the tip in.
Despite all the effort to get you where you were now, Coriolanus slid his cock into you with ease. Your body welcomed him, even if you didn’t.
He couldn’t help himself, his hips bucked forward, shoving himself into you deep. You whimpered into the pillow and Coriolanus’s mind went blank for a moment, basking in the feel of your warm cunt around him. It was better than he imagined.
His cock twitched inside of you, eager to fill you, but he had to make this last. Just like before, Coriolanus wanted to make you feel good. So good you had no choice but to want him.
Coriolanus drew his hips back after a few moments of just resting inside you. When only the tip remained, he thrust forward. Your body rocked against the mattress.
He did it again, this time slower. Forcing you to feel the drag of his thick cock inside of you. Coriolanus liked the way your body quivered as you succumbed to the pleasure he could give you.
You felt like heaven, all wet and warm and squeezing around him in a way that made him want to never leave you.
To show he trusted you, Coriolanus let your hands go. They immediately fell to grip the pillow beneath your head. You didn’t go to fight him and that counted for something. He had an ulterior motive, though, because now he could hold your hips with both hands.
He leaned down, pressing kisses to your back. He ran his hands along your skin, drinking the entirety of you in as he moved inside of you.
His movements were a bit slow, calculated, making you feel every inch of him stretching you out. Coriolanus imagined you rocking your hips back, your moans filling the room, eager for more. That would have to be saved for another time when you were more willing.
You body tensed and shivered, and Coriolanus knew you were getting close. You still had yet to speak.
It was petty, the sudden sharp thrust of his hips to shove his cock deep and hard into you.
A gasp—he drew a gasp from you.
He allowed his weight to fully fall on top of you, finally. Your skin was so warm on his chest, it was as if your body was trying to burn him off of you. Maybe it was all in his head. But it didn’t really matter. It was far too late for that.
“It’s okay to want it,” Coriolanus muttered into your ear.
He felt your body reacting and you were moments away from what he’d been pushing you towards. His thrusts grew shallow, not letting too much of himself leave you as you finally came undone.
You buried your face into the pillow, muffling your cry as you finally came around his cock. It was then that he got what he wanted, even if it was only brief. Your body spasmed and pushed back, trying to feel every inch of him stretching you out, clenching down to hold him there.
Coriolanus followed you soon after, cock throbbing in your walls, spilling inside of you and painting them white. He held your hips so tight he was sure he’d leave bruises as he held himself still, letting the both of you experience the sensation in full.
After however long—Coriolanus didn’t count the minutes—he withdrew from your body. He was a gentleman, so he helped you to lay down before your body collapsed on its own.
He laid down beside you, pulling your blanket over the top of both of your bodies with the intention to bring you comfort.
You were wordless, rolling onto your side, facing away from him.
Coriolanus turned with you, wrapping his arms around your midsection and pulling you back to him. He pressed a kiss to the back of your head before resting his lips near your ear.
“Do you really think not talking to me is the best idea?” he whispered, less frustrated than before.
You shook in his arms, but your voice was steady as you asked, “What do you expect me to say to you?”
Coriolanus didn’t have to think all that long.
“That you love me.”
You were silent for a moment, Coriolanus thought he was going to have to repeat himself.
“I did love you,” you uttered, voice threatening to break. “But it wasn’t enough for you.”
Coriolanus could’ve been angry, but he knew he’d win you back. He had all the time in the world, knowing you wouldn’t dare continue your relationship with Sejanus. How could you? You were already spoken for.
You were Coriolanus’s, you always had been. He realized it before you, but he knew you’d come to learn the truth. You’d accept it eventually, and everything would fall into place exactly as he wanted.
6K notes · View notes
evilminji · 2 months
Text
Okay this is going to drive me INSANE. D:>
Dearly beloved, Phandom darlings...
Can DANNY EAT VIDEO GAME/TV FOOD?
I... I NEED to know. You don't UNDERSTAND!? Think about it. No, seriously. THINK about all those HIGHLY unrealistic, too good to be true, PERFECT looking meals. Animated shows n games etc where there are chefs who will "cook for Anybody!"
Now think about being 14 going 20. A teenager. A broke college student. Your fridge is empty and everything you touch? Comes back to LIFE. You're... you're just so hungry. Tired. Your bruises have bruises and you have a paper due tomorrow.
I kinda want to CRY.
Can only eat cup ramen so many times before you DO.
And this show? That commercial? Yonder cooking game?? Well... they did a REAL good job animating it. It looks so WARM. So FILLING and COMFORTING. You can practically SMELL it.
You look down at your sad, soggy, cheap but you can afford it, EZ Noodles and? Feel something BREAK inside. You... you KNOW you can travel inside technology. KNOW this. Have done it before. Why... why AREN'T you? You can't keep living like this.
You gotta TRY, right?
I? Wanna believe it TOTALLY works?? Because Ectoplasm is weird like that? And just shrugs? Says "actual food, the concept of food backed by electricity, what's the difference? Sure, we can fuck with this"? And so Danny? IMMEDIATELY fucking switches his diet.
Like? Dead stop screech, slam on the breaks, u-turn to take that last off-ramp. Type IMMEDIATE.
Grocery bill? No, no, you mistake him! No. NOW it's his "carefully researched for their cooking, games and shows" bill. Touch his collection and he'll FUCKING BITE.
They got sticky notes on the cases. Menus n lil fold out "grocery store" locations. He punched a dragon for this fruit. Mmmmm, home cooked meeeeeals~
Just? Weird Foodie Danny. Yes he DOES know what those steaks taste like. While YOU fuckers were staring at the cat girls bizangas, HE was eating granny cat lady's home made meatball stew! Ha! YOU FOOLS!
More then that? I want him to write reviews. Like "yeah, fight system was OKAY but- *5 hour glowing rant about the food, sounding like a food critic who'd actually fucking gone and loved it* " and people are like?? Who? Is this funky lil madman? This is hilarious?
I want it to be DPxDC JUST? So everyone slowly starts to play the game "Meta or Shtick?" Because no one REALLY knows who he is. This dude gets POPULAR though. For some reason can't be hacked (shame on you guys! Way to try and ruin the FUN!). And like? Eventually? Someone just fucking ASKS?
And Danny is like... " wouldn't YOU like to know, weatherboy?"
So everyone is like:
"Meta."
But hey... since they're already ASSUMING~? >:3c WHOOOOO wants to help him PAY RENT~? Let's VLOG this fucker! Wooooo! Say "hi" Catchef! *feline noises* like? It's like a let's play combined with a mukbang.
Teen Heros everywhere are FACINATED. Game developers are suddenly like? "If there's food. You BETTER make it look amazing. We want that weird YouTube twink to... whatever his powers are, our game! Free viral marketing!" Food channels? Rending their clothes, on their KNEES, please! PLEASE! Just ANSWER OUR EMAIL! Just ONE SHOW! A one off! Guest appearance!
We have MONEY!!!
All while Danny? Is finally happy with his life. Weird as hell. Harrasing the world. Good food on the regular. Gets to travel, kinda. Best of all? He's raising money from it! Can help people! Now... who wants salad?
@babbling-babull @hdgnj @hypewinter @legitimatesatanspawn @spidori @dcxdpdabbles @the-witchhunter @lolottes
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myunghology · 10 months
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twisted wonderland 2nd years, except they're helplessly in love.
pairings ; riddle, ruggie, azul, jade, floyd, kalim, jamil, silver x gn! reader. (seperate).
tw ; none.. unless it's a bit too cheesy..?
a/n ; my first twst work.. im terrified!!
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☆ — RiDDLE ROSEHEARTS
nope. will not allow it. he has his priority- which is his grades. he won't allow himself to be distracted by you. (more below the cut!)
but you are gorgeous tho, he'll admit that.
oh, would you look at that.. he's been distracted.
other students, even students outside heartslabyul are getting a bit weirded out, like what do you mean he's stopping in his tracks just to watch you pass by.
doesn't even notice it himself that he's staring at you. it's about time he notices that he'd stopped walking is when floyd smacked his head..
well, to be fair, he's noticed himself that he gets nervous whenever he invites you to unbirthday parties, he feels like everything has to be perfect.
—which is why some heartslabyul students are kinda annoyed when you come. only because they have to do so much with riddle pressuring them every 10 minutes. they like you generally though!
plus riddle seems more relaxed when you're around. that's just a bonus though! (is it really)
cater has multiple pictures of riddle just staring at you— his gaze softening whenever his eyes land on you instinctively.
he offers to hold open the door for you whenever you run into each other outside the classrooms, he offers to help you whenever you ever get injured playing some sport, and he even let's you borrow his notes if you were absent in class for a good reason.
sure, maybe he might be a bit arrogant, and a bit of a cry baby, and definitely strict— but he has respect for everyone. especially you.
riddle rosehearts is truly, a gentleman in a world full of boys.
☆ — RUGGiE BUCCHi
him? in love? absolutely.
if ruggie was in love, it'll probably be obvious. he tries to hide it though,, but it's clear he isn't good at that.
he's pretty chill around you though, nothing too awkward.
let me tell you this, whenever you ask him for a request, he'll want something back. no, he isn't gonna ask for a kiss or a date. stop imagining that.
he wants you to pay him back by a favor, so that he can pull the "you owe me a favor, since i did ___ for you." card.
okay maybe then he'll ask you on a date. or he'll ask you to steal something from a student.
what can i say.. it's 50/50.. slowly leaning onto the date idea though.
ruggie isn't oblivious, or stupid either. he knows when he's in love. he's just too afraid to admit it. sometimes leona makes fun of him for being a "wimp" and to just confess.
also stares at you, but in class this time. bro isn't listening at all actually because he's too busy looking at you.
maybe i will admit that ruggie is a little shit but he's actually a sweetheart when he wants to be. it's a win/win situation if you like annoying guys but has a soft spot for you.
spoiler: he eventually sucks it tf up and soon confesses.
☆ — AZUL ASHENGROTTO
azul may be a tad bit conscious about what you think about him. screw that- he's definitely conscious about what you think about him. from not only about what happened during his overblot and from his insecurities.
he knows you aren't that type of person, but he can't help it.
it makes him feel a million times better when you reassure him though. even if it's making him a bit delusional.. but then again you might be saying that just because you pity him.
"or maybe they're just nice and they actually care have you ever thought of that" - floyd
you go to monstro lounge about once a week, and for sure, azul has sent jade and floyd to take care of you well, since of couse, most of the time he's busy.
floyd almost exposed azul's crush on you once when you two were chatting, thankfully jade was there to cover his mouth before he continued speaking.
but when he is actually there face to face actually talking to you, he sounds smug but in reality, he's a nervous wreck in the inside. you obviously know that though.
wait till you tell him that you find him cute..
he explodes
no i'm joking, he's just blushing really hard. like.. too much. again- it's kinda obvious that he likes you whenever you compliment him.
☆ — JADE LEECH
so, so respectful when talking to you. still a bit teasing though. he offers to help you even if you're carrying just one thing.
always glad to see you when you're visiting monstro lounge, floyd loves you just as much, but in a platonic way! he isn't going to steal jades version of his 'shirmpy'.
tried to make a drink thats named by you, azul didn't allow it, unfortunately. (for him). i'd be embarrassed tbh.
in your opinion jade is a bit weird.. but he's still super nice to you, no matter how weird this guy seems. he would never do anything that would make you uncomfortable.
similar to riddle- he opens doors for you, sometimes offers to cook for you, and sometimes treats you whenever you're at montro lounge. only if azul allows it though, which is pretty rare. like jade wtf dym "its on the house" no it's not shut up.
you sometimes wonder if his mushrooms are safe to eat or not.
it's probably best not to ask him though.
he may or may have not tried breaking into your dorm room because you weren't attending class and you weren't responding to his messages asking where you were. it was all on concern tho don't worry i swe-
genuinely doesn't have a problem with confessing, but he only confesses until he's confident that you like him back.
trigger warning for floyd though since he's probably gonna pop out anytime soon during the confession..
☆ — FLOYD LEECH
my condolences if he ever likes you.
just kidding, it'd be pretty fun if floyd started to like you. only if you really like his bone crushing hugs.
doesn't hide his crush on you at all, you gotta be super oblivious if you don't notice it if he didn't even confess to you yet the moment he finds out that he likes you.
you're definitely scared shitless whenever you see him. when you try to run away he chases you around the halls and he's so damn fast, it's nearly impossible to escape him.
plus- his mood swings too? who knows if he'll get excited when you run away from him or if he's gonna get pissed off.. but mostly he gets excited though.
has kabedoned you one, too many times. mostly to fluster you, but also to get your attention.
easily gets jealous- especially when someone else hugs you for a long time. no one can hug his shrimpy except him! he isn't possessive, that's just how floyd is.
also stares at you in class- but throws paper airplanes at you, with the writings inside saying "HI".
ends up getting in trouble because either he got caught, or riddle snitched. most likely the second one tho.
drags you to monstro lounge to help him clean up his OWN messes, but he (might) have intentionally done this to spend time with you..
☆ — KALiM AL-ASiM
probably one of the best people ever to have a crush on you if that even makes sense..
spoils you rotten, even more than when he spoils his friends which is obviously already huge. wanna buy something online but can't? he's already asking for the link so he can buy it for you!
you obviously feel bad whenever he does this, so you try to remind him that he doesn't have to do all of this stuff for you.
not only with gifts, he spoils you rotten with affection too. you feel bad for jamil as well, he seems annoyed, but as long as kalim's happy.
very very respectful and nice to you, and will stop anything you don't want him to do anytime, he sometimes flirts with you unintentionally too..
hugs you literally at literally any chance he gets, he's also pretty clingy, if you haven't noticed that yet.
shows you off to other scarabia students, it's pretty obvious that he has a crush on you too.
bro's lovesick
gets so upset when something happens to you because of him, worries that people will try to do some crazy shit to you as well because you have a good connection with him..
introduces you to his family like you're his wife or something.. and then when you ask him what are you guys he'll go:
"are we not engaged" "NO??"
he was fully convinced that you guys were dating already
he's a little bit delusional but that's ok..
☆ — JAMiL ViPER
like riddle, jamil does not have the time to fall in love with someone since he's already busting his ass off taking care of kalim.. and with his academics too. plus the overblot situation but we don't talk about that.
maybe you are a little bit scared of him as well, but little do you know this guy will literally adjust for you anytime. it's really hard to see though when he does.
VERY hard to see that he has a crush on you though. you'd confess and he'd be like,
"i gave you so much signs what do you mean i might not like you back"
you were starstruck when you heard him say that. what does he mean signs. does he mean when he glared at you in class..? you thought you did something wrong for a second.
like floyd, kalim once almost exposed jamil for liking you accidentally.. don't get me wrong, jamil didn't tell kalim anything, he just found out himself.
jamil definitely likes you trying his culture's food, especially if he cooked it himself! it's not obvious, but he lets a small smile creep up onto his lips.
studies with you too if you're ever having a hard time. studying? nah, more like tutoring.. he's kinda harsh at first but then softens up a bit when he sees that you're really struggling.
☆ — SiLVER
im sure we all know silver is a generally pretty reserved person. and that doesn't change even when he's crushing on you.
but you do notice him stealing glances from time to time whenever you walk past him, lilia definitely asks him about that.
he may be a tad bit more open with you than others? but it's purely because he trusts you.
you sometimes tie his hair to the hairstyle called "apple hair" when he's sleeping and he doesn't notice even when he wakes up, he only notices after looking at a mirror..
genuinely doesn't mind though. lilia thinks it's adorable (he also thinks you guys are perfect for each other)
and that's why lilias opinions are always important..
generally, you guys usually talk through chat because you two don't really have the time to talk to each other physically.
but still, he still thinks you're beautiful. even if he can't see you all the time. this dynamic is kinda like a hallway crush typebeat..??
lilia is your number 1 fan alongside malleus!! sebek still has mixed feelings but he likes you generally! he just isn't sure if he likes you for silver.. or if he's not sure if he likes silver for you.. does that make sense?
after awhile he joins malleus and lilia.
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©myunghology
6K notes · View notes
writerpeach · 6 months
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Studious Seduction
Oh My Girl Arin x m! reader
10k words
Thanks to @i-am-lifeform24 for help with editing
Part One | Part Two
---
Read on AO3
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"This seems like a bad idea, Miss Choi."
"It's a terrible idea, professor. Which is why we're doing it." 
Without a doubt, there’s very little chance that you won’t be spotted here. Heading up a stairwell that leads up to who knows where is hardly ideal, especially with the sudden rain shower that's started to pour above, foreshadowing this bad decision made in tandem. 
Yet, you’ve never been one to make the best choices. An inappropriate relationship with one of your students has to be ranked at the top of the list, wrong for a myriad of reasons—all that could get you fired. Still, it somehow continues unimpeded, knowing the risks, both of you doubling down even. 
At this point, you’re not sure if you’re a bad influence on Arin, or if she’s a bad influence on you. 
To make matters worse, today’s outfit of choice is this poor excuse for a school uniform that draws all your attention. A risky little ensemble that consists of a white shirt and black tie combo that only pretends to be proper, covering very little of her midriff, as well as this dark little pleated miniskirt so short it might as well not exist for how little of her thighs it hides. It leaves more of her creamy skin uncovered, and being her professor, you know it's not appropriate to look—yet you can’t stop yourself from doing so anyways. 
And then there’s those dark frames on her face, the cherry on top that puts this whole thing together, that takes her from an innocent, responsible student more than invested in class, to this devilish vixen who struts into your office, demanding to be ruined, never taking no for an answer. 
There’s almost no room for imagination, offering you such an obscene view when Arin heads up the stairs, purposefully walking in front of you with slow, deliberate steps. You can see the shape of her perfectly round butt cheeks exposed, her tight fitting thong doing anything but covering up delicious pale flesh. Of course, she knows exactly where your line of sight goes when you walk behind her, making an effort to shake her wide hips a little more with each step, giving you a shameless view of her tight, succulent ass.
This outfit is every dress code violation she could possibly make rolled into one. 
But who's going to admonish her? You? Who can't even think logically at the moment when all your thoughts have turned to mush? Not a chance when all you want to do is slip your hand between her thighs too delicious to resist until she makes a mess on your fingers, the floor, and anywhere else that becomes collateral damage.
Right now, you have the perfect opportunity for exactly that. You’ve lost track of how many steps you’ve walked, but eventually, the stairwell comes to an end, with a set of metal double doors that leads up to the rooftop. As good a place as any other, you think, especially when there's little reason anyone else would want to venture towards the top level during this never-ending rainstorm.
“Here?” you question, when Arin presses your back against the cold wall just underneath the final level of the stairwell. A solitary gaze into her eyes is all you get before she wraps her hands around your neck and plants a heated, sloppy kiss on your lips. She nods in affirmation, but doesn’t give you the time to catch your breath, slipping her tongue into your mouth to make an attempt to taste all of you.
“It's really open here. Pretty easy to get caught," you tell her when she moves from your lips, placing wet kisses across your jawline, moving lower down to your neck. 
"That's the point, professor." Arin places your hands firmly around her waist, leading you exactly where she wants your touch. Her legs spread a little further apart so you can push her skirt up, revealing just how tiny of a thong she's wearing. "I don't care if we get caught. Make a mess of me—" 
She sighs when your fingertips press against her clothed core, so aroused you can already feel her slick leaking through the flimsy fabric. You add more pressure in response, rewarded with Arin's soft gasps against the sensitive skin of your neck.
"We could get in a lot of trouble, Yewon," you breathe out, barely paying attention to anything beyond this. In fact, you hardly care about what could go wrong either, so consumed with lust, one singular desire that Arin shares, and your fingertips ache to slip underneath these panties and sink right in. 
"When has that ever stopped us before?" 
She has a point. 
This is risky as it gets. And that’s what makes it all more exciting. 
Without wasting any more time, you slip a finger underneath the fabric of her panties, into her ridiculously warm cunt. A second one slides in right after, and soaked as she already is, barely puts up any resistance, the entrance of her tight little hole eagerly swallowing you up.
“Professor—“
A few strokes is all you manage before Arin throws her head back in delight, rolling her hips, moaning from nothing more but your fingers slowly pumping in and out of her needy cunt. 
Arin clings to your shoulder as the tempo picks up, her other hand quickly traveling down your torso until it reaches your pants. She finds the button to your slacks right away, unzipping them to slip a hand inside your boxers. You let out a groan when she runs a gentle hand along the length of your shaft, slow and teasing—until she wraps her entire hand around it and grips you tight.
“Yewon..." A wave of pleasure rushes through your whole body. She's stroking your cock with such a perfect grip, slender fingers reaching down to fondle your balls, eager for what they’ve stored up just for her. Meanwhile, the sounds that come from her own throat as she rides your fingers become a necessary distraction, urging you to thrust into her a little faster, a little rougher— 
"How many loads are you going to give me today, professor? I hope they're all as thick as they were yesterday—"
It's rather ridiculous, the things you hear come out of Arin's mouth. The demure looking girl in the front row, raising her hand up high, blushing just at the sight of you, now says the filthiest things when she's got her mouth on your earlobe and her pussy filled with your fingers. She's every bit the opposite of an exemplary student, but you suppose that's your fault, given you're the one who's trading straight A's for the roughest, raunchiest sex that almost always ends up with you finishing inside her. 
But the way Arin sounds when she moans directly in your ear, riding your fingers so selfishly while they stay buried inside her cunt, it makes you forget all that. None of that matters. All that does is satisfying her needs and yours, and you won't stop until she's absolutely drenched your fingers, even if it ruins that pathetic pair of panties. 
"Don't stop, professor. I'm so close…"
She's lost all inhibitions in her frantic desire to keep rocking her hips hard against your fingers. You can feel the tension about to snap, her walls squeezing the life out of your slick digits—all while she tries to keep a steady rhythm in her own pumping, giving your cock a good squeeze each time your fingers plunge to the hilt.
"Professor, please, don’t stop, don’t stop—" Arin’s breathing grows unsteady, heavy, and she gasps for air between every syllable that escapes her lips. You’ll do everything to oblige her, steadily thrusting, curling your fingers to find that sweet spot that gets her to moan the loudest until she lets go of your cock, clinging her entire weight onto you.
"You're gonna make me fucking cum—"
Nothing gets said in response, obeying Arin’s pleas, an uninterrupted stream of juices beginning to coat your fingers while she lets out one continuous moan, unable to speak coherently upon climax. Biting down hard on her bottom lip, she nearly draws blood before the wetness gushes down your fingers, rendering her panties useless, completely ruined with all this sticky arousal.
Her walls flutter around you, this explosive orgasm lasting far longer than you expect—but you don’t let up, pumping away as she spills more, riding this out until it turns into a second one shortly after. And when you press your thumb firmly against her clit, right as she starts to come down from her high, the violent trembles in her body repeat, sending her over the edge a third time, forcing her body to shake against yours, another loud, shameless moan spilling out of her in overstimulation. 
It's a wonder how the rest of campus hasn’t heard the screams echoing all the way down the staircase. Were it not for the rain pouring overhead drowning out her cries of pleasure, it would be near impossible for anyone passing by to not hear a thing. So you’re blessed by the rains, both above, and between Arin’s sticky thighs. 
After it’s all said and done, she can hardly support her own weight when the sensation of your fingers inside her becomes too much for her oversensitive cunt, Arin’s sweaty frame nearly toppling over as she breathes heavily. Good thing you're right here to do what she temporarily can’t, clinging to your body, your hard cock still poking against her as you keep her upright amidst these intense aftershocks. 
"That was, fuck—you've really outdone yourself, professor. I can hardly stand."
When you pull your fingers out, you can’t hide the smirk that spreads across your face with all this slick clinging to your fingertips as she leans on your body to take a breath. The praise washes over you while Arin unexpectedly grabs your wrist, bringing your soaked fingers, all the way up to her lips to fervently suck the delicious liquid off. 
You intently watch her lick herself off you, tongue lewdly swirling around the length of each wet digit, making an effort to swallow all of her mess. Her lips glisten with spit and wetness, a ravenous look in her bespectacled eyes as she cleans whatever she can, tasting every drop of her delicious essence, staring at you seductively until nothing is left. 
"Guess I don't need these anymore," Arin says after a pause, gradually recovering as she peels her drenched thong down her legs, letting it drop to her ankles before she slips it off, stuffing it into your front pocket. A cute little smile later, and she looks more than eager for what's next, unable to tear her gaze away from how hard you’ve been left thanks to her. 
"I should finish what I started, don't you think, professor?" 
You don't even get to answer when Arin drops to her knees on the cold floor, tugging your pants and boxers further down, freeing your cock that so desperately needs it—so desperately needs her. With a cute, light giggle, she spits onto your swollen shaft, pumping the entire length with her delicate fingers, a low moan rising in your throat as she pays extra attention to the underside where she knows you're the most sensitive.
Her slender fingers work up the length of your cock, coming back down with a grip so wonderfully tight. She’s so ready, so eager to have her soft lips around it already. You can practically see her salivating when she leans in a little closer to lap her tongue around your cock in one long, lazy lick, pressing her lips into a light kiss on the tip of your shaft. 
“Yewon—“
You can’t hold in a grunt when Arin rubs your tip against her mouth, not opening up enough to take you whole yet, instead tracing her full, soft lips over your needy cockhead. 
“Don’t you worry, professor. Gonna make you feel so good. I promise.” 
The anticipation explodes all at once as she parts her lips, slipping the entire head of your cock inside. The moment her wet mouth makes contact with your shaft, you groan at the sudden warmth, a sharp contrast from her icy cold hands. She takes more of your length down, hollowing her cheeks, keeping an intense, erotic gaze while slowly bobbing her head up and down. 
"Mhmph—" Her warm breath sends shivers down your spine as her lips slip further and further down, the tip of her tongue flicking against what hasn’t disappeared into her mouth. You can’t help but let out all types of unabashed moans while she guides more of you inside, spit dripping down to your balls as she slides deeper, until nothing of you is left to swallow up, the head of your cock hitting the back of her tight throat with ease. 
"Yewon, fuck,” you say, nearly breathless, and the way Arin looks up at you with her mouth so proudly sealed around every inch—there’s nothing better. “I'll never get enough of your pretty fucking mouth.” 
Arin hums against the length of your shaft at your praise, working more of her magic on you, lips getting down so devastatingly deep against your base. She’s oh so eager, so unwaveringly committed to covering every single inch in saliva. Her hot little mouth slides down effortlessly, bobbing her head back, each stroke just a bit sloppier, a little wetter than the one before, with zero intention of giving you a chance to gather yourself.
“Nobody gives a blowjob like I do, right, professor? Nobody can make you cum as hard as I can. I love being on my knees for you so much, being a good little slut for my professor. That’s what I am, aren't I?"
Nodding your head is all you can do, breath heavy in disbelief of how good this oral assault is, the enthusiasm on display really proving how much Arin enjoys having your cock shoved down her wet, inviting throat. 
You’d sacrifice your entire livelihood for a blowjob like this. 
It’s quite simple to lose track of how many times her talented mouth takes your entire length down, so good at pleasuring you it's impossible to find words. The way her wet tongue flicks against your slit when she slides off, only to have you plunging all the way back into the heat of her throat—it's far, far too good.
"I want you to cum on my face, professor," Arin tells you, so casually as she pulls away for a brief second before going right back to licking up the length of your hard cock, spitting all the excess saliva over the rest of you. Then she’s back to placing hungry wet kisses against each inch, her tongue making a slick path before she gives the leaking slit of your cock another teasing, torturous swirl. "I want all of it."
At this rate, you think you could blow a load anywhere she wanted you to, already so close to bursting just at her tongue lavishing your cock with these feverish licks. She has this way of making you feel so special, like worshiping your cock is all that matters to her, your pleasure the most important aspect in her life. Her greedy mouth proves just that, making you groan so easily, especially when she dips down to pay attention to your balls and slurps so messily on them like she wants your load at any cost. 
A few lazy licks down your sack and you’re back down her throat—just trapped there helplessly as she holds you, her pretty mouth so goddamn overwhelming when she swallows as much of your length as she possibly can, not showing even the slightest hint of strain. Her full lips stay motionless when they slide right down to your base, gaze locked tight, making your cock throb within her tight, wet throat. 
“Stay there, Yewon, shit,” you groan, hands clutching her head against your crotch to speed up the path to climax. Each second she remains there feels like absolute heaven, fostering all this unbearable bliss, all while those doe eyes speak for her when her mouth can’t—impatiently waiting, desperately wanting to empty your balls. 
When she releases her lips from your length, there’s a sexy little gasp that comes with the messy string of saliva pulling her back down. Repeating the act, she plunges right back down, nose nestling comfortably against your abdomen, lips wrapped entirely around the base of your length. “Yewon, god, you know what’s gonna happen if you keep doing that.“ 
"Oh, you’re gonna cum? Want you to paint my pretty face. Don’t you, professor?” 
There’s no answer to offer other than what she wants, all thoughts drowned by another wet slurp when Arin once again takes every inch of you down her throat, the overwhelming warmth of her mouth suffocating your length. Then she rises, exposing your shaft to the cool air for only a moment until her throat tightens when you’re back down, fully sheathed. 
Arin’s so dedicated to hearing you moan that these steadfast strokes show no relent, slurping from base to tip, hair all a mess as she bobs faster and faster, maintaining never-ending eye contact that’ll be the death of you.
“Need it. Need it so bad, your hot cum dripping down my face when I walk back down these stairs. Can’t wait to feel how thick and heavy a load you’ll give me.” 
Her pace only begins to go into overdrive, picking up rampantly when Arin places her hands on your thighs for better stability, the hot slickness of her mouth far too much to handle. She takes every inch, all of you disappearing down, without needing to stop to take a breath, like she’s proving a point at how good she can get you off. There's no restraint as she bobs her head without inhibitions, sloppily, noisily, not even gagging when her throat delivers an unimaginable level of pleasure. 
"Oh my god, Yewon, fuck—"
With each desperate stroke, you're so close to that edge, quickly approaching the inevitable. The tightness in your balls grows beyond your control, and there’s no time to think straight when her mouth feels this fucking good, almost there, absolutely about to—
"I'm gonna fucking cum, Yewon," you groan out just in time, with no qualms about how needy you sound. One last slow descent down to your base, then Arin pops your needy shaft from her mouth right when it seems you’re about to burst any second. 
And looking as salacious as possible, she simply tilts her head slightly backwards, jerking you off while directing the tip of your cock straight at her face, eagerly anticipating the release that's about to cover her.
“Cum all over me, professor.” 
You let out a strained, guttural moan the moment your first pearlescent stream shoots out, streaking across the bridge of her nose. These frantic strokes don’t let up, guiding your milky seed that unloads onto the perfect target—her glasses, coating the lenses in white and getting it all over her rosy cheeks. Another strand fires off as she shifts your cock downwards, a thick stream blasting across her parted lips that deserve so much of this load for helping you reach an explosive release. 
She pumps, and pumps, until there’s nothing left, and by the time your orgasm winds down, Arin is a total mess, one you’ll never get tired of seeing your load plastered all over her. Her stunning features wear you like a proud smile, drenched in her handiwork, thick streaks that cling to her cheeks, those soft lips, and anywhere else it happens to land as she strokes your length to ensure not a drop goes to waste. 
That look is all too familiar when the weight of your load starts to drip down, an orgasmic feeling that brings a grin onto her cum-stained face.
“That’s a big load, professor. Just what I wanted," she says as she removes her stained glasses, taking a nice, long lick right over the lens and making a show of the entire thing. "I think I'm obsessed. With your cum. It tastes so good, but looks better on my face."
"Yewon—you're ridiculous, you know that?" you tell her as she carefully slips the glasses back on, and wipes up whatever has run off to the corners of her lips, bringing her sticky fingers into her own mouth to slurp them clean.
"It's not my fault my professor's cum tastes so good."
But before she can even begin to clean off your cock, or savor what an absolute mess she’s covered in, the sound of footsteps nearby force her to stop mid-stroke, causing both your heads to turn with a shared look of panic. There's only enough time to tuck yourself back into your pants, but there's nothing to do at all about this massive load that's dripping all over Arin, nor what’s done a number on the stairwell. 
"Get behind me, Yewon. Quick."
Arin nods and does as you say, scrambling to her feet, also making sure her thong is still tucked away into your pocket as you zip your pants up. The sounds of footsteps echo louder, yet there's only one real way to escape this stairwell, because you're not going out that door when the rain hasn't let up one bit. 
When the moment those footsteps approach the stairwell entrance, they slow to a halt, making your heart beat faster. Arin moves fast enough to get behind you just in time, out of sight and behind your broad frame. And the two of you wait there, her body pressed against yours, trying to hold her breath, dreading to explain yourself to whoever just made this abrupt end to your fun. 
"Professor? Is that you?" The voice sounds so familiar, but you can't quite pick it out, too muffled by the rain. But there's no doubt you've heard this voice before. It's certainly one of your students, so at least you won’t have to explain this to a faculty member. "What a surprise, seeing you here!"
Normally, you'd have all the time in the world for pleasantries and small talk, but this is the last place where you can do anything of the sort as you try to shield Arin. From who exactly, you have no idea as they walk into frame. Their name escapes you, not that you really care when all you want is to get out of this situation. 
"Is something the matter, professor? Why are you standing there?"
"Oh, uh, nothing. I had some time between classes and came up here to check out the rain. It's not letting up is it?" You put on the best smile possible, knowing Arin can't be spotted right behind you. Luckily, your taller frame can block her body completely, and given how the area is poorly lit, there isn't much worry about the mess that's on her face at the very least.
"No, it isn't. We don't usually get so much rain this time of year, huh?" The unnamed student asks as she glances out the window, and for a brief second you fear the worst—but she doesn't seem to notice anything at all that shouldn't be there. "I didn't even bring an umbrella today either..."
"You might check the library, they'll have them."
"The library?"
"They used to offer some a few months back, but I guess everyone forgot. I'm sure they still have a few left."
"I might give that a try then, thanks. It's good to see you, professor." 
When your student smiles and waves goodbye, heading back the stairs without another word, you're able to finally breathe a huge sigh of relief, knowing the ordeal is finally over, despite taking years off your life. "Jesus, Yewon."
"That was close.” Her own breath stays ragged and heavy, almost completely forgetful to the mess you've left on her face that still glistens. "Good save. Really pulled that umbrella story out of thin air, didn’t you?” 
“Whatever it takes. Hey, they might have umbrellas. I’ve never gone there except to rail you.” 
Arin laughs, then suddenly remembers she still has your filth all over her. “Better go clean up I guess..."
"This was a really terrible idea."
"Hey, this was my terrible idea," Arin corrects with a grin that manages to shine through all the mess. "And I don’t hear you complaining about me giving you a nice, sloppy blowjob, professor.” 
“I could never complain about seeing my favorite student on her knees.” 
“I'll go on ahead. Maybe I'll see you later? For office hours?"
You say nothing more as you let her pass you to head down the stairs first, standing here a bit longer for your heart rate to calm before you too make your exit. You've got a class in under an hour that you haven't prepared for, and now how could you, coming so close from potentially losing your job. But yet, somehow, through all that, Arin was right—the rush of getting caught is exhilarating, but that was far too close for comfort. 
✦ ✦
So after all that, logic would dictate that you should be a little more careful, that maybe you should stop having sex with your student in places you're bound to get caught—but logic went out the window the moment you bent Arin over your desk for the very first time. What else are you going to do though, take her home to your apartment where there's actual privacy, where you don't have to keep quiet?
That sounds so very drab and mundane, and you'd rather spend another ten hours grading papers than go the proper route. You don't even know what you would do if you wound up in Arin's bedsheets, having all the freedom to rail her for hours instead of the thrill of being in public where you have to be quick and quiet.
There's nothing wrong or unhealthy with this relationship. Not one bit. 
You've told yourself on multiple occasions that you should dial it down a notch, not meet quite so often, or at least not in places that will put your career at risk. After all, your luck is going to run out one of these days, and the day could very well come when more than just a student catches the two of you, maybe one of the other professors, or god forbid the university staff. 
And then it's all over for both of you. 
Yet, there isn't a day when you don't seek each other out, find some empty closet, a vacant faculty office, or that spot near the back of the library that's so dusty that no one frequents. 
The risk is almost as good as being balls deep inside Arin itself. 
You can't exactly help yourself when she wears these slutty little outfits that practically beg you to rip them off her, nothing but the shortest skirts imaginable to class, where you have to stop your eyes from wandering throughout the entirety of the lecture. 
Arin sits in the front row for a reason, and that's not to get a better view of the whiteboard. No, it's so she can spread her legs open when no one's paying attention, flash whatever sexy pair of panties she has underneath (or the lack thereof on occasion), and sometimes even play with herself so she can show off how wet she is. 
Somehow, no one's really noticed how often you have her in your office, where there's less talk about class going on, and more your head buried between her thighs, or having her bent over your desk in some obscene position with her mouth stuffed by her ruined underwear and screaming through it.
With everything that’s transpired today, one would think you’d call it early and pack up. Not you though. Not even an hour has gone by since your close call, and Arin is in your office again, sucking you off underneath your desk while you work on grading papers—at least you should be, if only you could focus for more than a few seconds without this warm mouth slobbering on your cock. 
"I bet none of your other students can deepthroat you as good as I can."
"You said you were going to be quiet."
"And you said you were going to fuck me, professor."
You haven't exactly broken that promise, it's more like Arin decided she wasn't going to wait until you finished, always finding an excuse to get in her favorite position whenever she wants to suck you off. 
Luckily, for your students, you're going to be in such a tremendous mood after finishing in this girl's hungry mouth. These papers are downright horrendous—so fucking awful and unreadable it makes you wonder if you should intentionally pound Arin in your office with the door wide open, just so you’ll get caught, lose your job, and never have to deal with some of these students ever again.
Not even a few papers in and you’ve lost every ounce of focus, groaning while Arin empties your balls, her mouth right at your base when your spills right down her throat. With your fingers gripping the back of her head, it's impossible to not avoid bucking your hips into her pretty, sloppy mouth as she drains each thick shot from your pulsing cock, swallowing it all with pride to make sure there's not a single trace of your creamy release that hasn't gone directly into her stomach. 
"All those students probably failed anyways," she tells you, letting the saliva fall from her lips as she shows off her empty mouth with a pleased smile, planting a nice, loud wet kiss on your tip before getting back up to her feet.
"Yeah? Including you?"
"Of course not, professor. We both know before you even look at my paper that I've got a perfect grade." 
"Is that so? And what have you done to deserve that, Yewon?" 
Before you've even gotten your pants back on properly, Arin is already claiming a spot on the edge of your desk, undoing her tie so that it hangs loosely around her neck, and then spreads those luscious thighs as wide apart as they can go, her gorgeous, dripping pussy on display without any underwear in the way. "I can think of a few things. Doesn't emptying you down my throat count for something?"
"Hm, I dunno,” you ponder, shamelessly staring between those delectable thighs at what’s all yours. “Maybe a few points. That'll get you a passing grade at best."
"Just a few? What about all the times I've ridden your cock this week alone, professor? And how many times did you cum inside me?"
"I've completely lost track, Yewon. I guess that'll get you at least ten percent higher."
"How generous of you," she retorts, tone all full with playful sarcasm, unbuttoning her white shirt enough so you can see the color of her bra. It's purple, just like the thong in your pocket that serves as a nice trophy. "Are you forgetting how many times I took your thick cock in my ass until you blew your load inside?"
"Does that really count if you beg me to do so every time you step in my office?"
"Oh no, you can't blame me for how much you love my ass, professor. That's at least twenty points."
"That's a little greedy, don't you think?"
"Absolutely not. If anything, I deserve extra for all those times I let you fuck my face," Arin suggests, spreading her legs further apart to give a clearer view of her bare cunt that’s glistening so beautifully, accompanied with a set of fingers teasing herself for your benefit. 
"Again, you're forgetting the part where you keep dropping down to your knees and begging for it."
Arin can't help but smile, both at knowing you're right—and also how you can't take your eyes off the show her fingers put on when she rubs at her clit, getting wet so easily from playing with herself while staring into your eyes. It's the look on your face that drives her crazy and gives her the urge to show off even more, sliding two digits past her swollen lips into her tight hole, so eager to get herself off in front of you. 
"What about now, profess—" she asks before a moan interrupts her words, leaning backwards to prop herself up so you can watch every bit as she fingers herself. "Does this count for anything?"
"It depends. If you can make yourself cum without my help, then maybe, that'll bump up your grade, Yewon."
"Twenty-five. For making myself cum right in your office," she manages between hitched breaths, pumping her fingers deep in and out, almost bucking her hips off the table at her own touch.
"Twenty. You're not there yet, Yewon," you correct, watching Arin roll her head back with her eyes shut, so beautiful when she's in bliss, achingly sexy how her slender fingers disappear knuckle deep into her own cunt. You've barely had any time to recover since emptying your load down her throat just a minute ago, but the mere sight is more than enough to have you as hard as the wooden desk she’s writhing on. 
Arin reaches down to further unbutton her shirt, giving the full glimpse of her breasts covered up in that pretty lace as her tight frame falls back against the cold surface all splayed out. While this shameless girl continues fingering her pussy, you simply enjoy the view, stroking your cock every few seconds to spur her on. Every desperate moan and gasp from her lips gets louder, all that nectar trickling down between her spread thighs you’re dying to lick clean—but you won’t, because she has to do this on her own. 
You let the lack of words exchanged linger in the air while Arin fingers herself a bit rougher, moving a bit more frantic, knowing all the signs from experience that she isn't too far from that much craved release. 
“Professor," Arin breathes out, the quiver in her voice an obvious indication. Her fingers get so drenched, pulling them out from her heat for a moment to reveal how sticky wet they are as she groans, not bothering to hide how she slides them back in to curl right into herself. "Oh god, professor—“ 
When the pleasure becomes too much, when her back arches off the desk with breathless cries, there's no missing the split second Arin's entire body tenses up—thighs quivering, fingers buried so deep you can hear the wetness while she shakes on the desk from the intensity of her orgasm. It's a moment of euphoria that's only reached because you're watching so attentively, eyes glued the entire time as she rides her fingers long past completion, toes curling, moans echoing through your small office.
Even when Arin is finished, she's unable to regain her composure for more than a few ragged breaths, eyes still closed while the bliss hits hard, long after her high. And you savor every second of her looking so beautiful in this post-climax haze, an absolute mess on your desk that you’re thankful hasn't soaked into your papers.
"Fuck, that was too good, professor," Arin murmurs, slowly pulling her fingers out from herself, just to rub her oversensitive clit, borderline crying from the overstimulation. “It’s too bad it wasn’t your cock I came on.” 
"Then maybe I should deduct points for that?"
"Hey, that's not fair… you just told me—I’d get points for making myself cum."
"I did, but—you would have earned extra for waiting for me to do it. Guess you'll just have to earn back those points another way."
"How exactly should I do that, professor?" Arin asks with the best faux ignorance possible, sitting herself up to scoot off the desk, then leaning down to wrap her slick fingers around your shaft. "If you bend me over and pound me with this cock until your cum is leaking inside me, would that be enough?"
"Perhaps. That would certainly help raise your grade some points.” 
"Give it all to me then," she pleads, giving your cock a handful of languid strokes, just enough to leave a nice trail of her slick along the entire length. "Fuck a load into me, professor. Fuck your top student all over this office."
"Top student? Really?" You can't help but laugh at that, knowing full well Arin is certainly anything but. Far from it actually, not even top ten. "Then I better go find her then."
"Hey! Just shut up and give it to me already," Arin says with that pout still intact, keeping these strokes going on your cock that make you throb so easily, and you’re not sure who needs it more at this point. 
"Fine, but not here. I'm tired of this place. Let's go somewhere else."
It's rather late into the afternoon, with the majority of classes for the day having ended already. That leaves enough of the campus vacant, lowering the risk of getting caught wherever you decide to take Arin—but the risk still isn't zero. Wandering around the university after hours isn't the best idea, especially when there are plenty of places for students to hang out, and worse, faculty offices open late.
So you keep it simple. 
You keep several feet ahead of each other, heading up a couple floors to that really small bathroom by the science department that no one ever uses because it doesn't lock properly. There are much bigger and better bathrooms scattered about, so everyone usually forgets this tiny, shabby thing exists, especially late into the day. Not the most romantic spot, but it’s suitable, and keeps you from scouring the halls without having to dodge other faculty and students. 
You enter first, flicking on the light, and do a quick scan around the room while Arin slips in, pulling the door shut as quickly as possible. There's nothing but a toilet, a sink, and a mirror, but most importantly it looks clean, which is the most important thing. It's not that surprising given that nobody really uses it to begin with.
It’s as perfect a place as ever. 
Double checking the lock still doesn't work, nothing has changed on that front. Arin quickly moves to lean against the wall, and she’s already unbuttoning her shirt, all the way this time, to give the full view of those perky breasts without any bra to ruin the view. You're on her in a flash, claiming those lips with a kiss full of nothing but aggression to match just how badly you want to ruin this girl right now.
"Fuck me," Arin urges as she palms your bulge through your pants, impatient to get your cock inside of her. Her fingers fumble with the button to your pants, thoughts clouded with desire, and she’s so eager to release your aching shaft, to give it all the attention it so desperately craves.
You’ve got just a modicum of patience left to not let that happen quite yet.
Instead, with your lips still attached, you pick Arin’s slender frame off the ground, and guide her over to the sink, placing her there as gently as you can. When she settles down on the edge of the counter, there's no hesitation to shove that tiny skirt up past her waist, revealing her absolutely beautiful cunt still left glistening in the aftermath of her orgasm from a moment earlier, and you're just dying to fill her all up. 
Still, somehow you hold back for a moment, to let it all sink in. The sight is divine enough, this privileged student of yours in this rather pathetic excuse for a school uniform, half naked, shirt wide open with her tits fully out, that barely-there skirt, and those sexy thigh highs that bring all the attention to her immaculate thighs that make you want to ruin her even faster. She knows that’s your biggest weakness, knows how weak in the knees they leave you whenever you get to slide them off with your teeth—but now they make her look like pure sin. 
"I know you wanna get that dick in me," she says, voice so sultry, and her thighs spread obscenely wide apart, so that every inch of her mouthwatering cunt is put on display with not a drop of modesty—not like Arin even knows what that word is. 
"Not yet. Haven't gotten to taste you today." As per usual, Arin’s been more than a little greedy, and it feels like she’s had her lips on your cock all day and this is the first opportunity to return the favor. 
Any protest in those pretty eyes doesn't last when her hands wrap around your skull, drawing your face straight between her thighs that you have no trouble diving into. With your lips feasting on her cunt right off the bat, you give Arin all the attention she craves so badly, licking along the length of her slit, all the way up until your tongue starts flicking at her engorged clit. 
"God, so fucking good," Arin breathes out, the silence in the empty bathroom getting cut with all her beautiful moans that ring out. For your efforts, you’re rewarded by her thighs locking around your head, as your lips get a tight seal around her swollen clit that has her grinding that delicious cunt all over your mouth. 
"Professor!" she chokes out, while continuing this harsh grip on the back of your head while you slurp on her clit so mercilessly, every bit hungry to taste all those delicious juices that spill out. "Oh my god, professor, oh fuck!"
Your mouth doesn't quit, because nobody tastes better than Arin. You're an addict, every bit obsessed with this girl's cunt since the first time that you slid between these thighs. There's nothing you love more than this, her taste lingering on your tongue, all while these delicious thighs squeeze around your head, suffocating you perfectly as you eat her out with so much fervor she almost can't handle how good you make her feel.
"My god, Yewon—you taste so fucking delicious," you tell her between long licks, slurping on her clit without restraint to savor every last bit of her soaking cunt. "I can eat your pretty pussy all day. For hours and hours."
"I won't say no to that, professor.” Her desperate hands dig into your scalp to hold your face right there, exactly where she wants, where she needs, gasping when her hips grind down against you. "Fuck, your tongue is so, so good."
This is your favorite part about going down on her, being trapped between those perfect thighs that squeeze and tremble while you sloppily eat her out, drowning in her heavenly aroma and all this nectar, her delicious pussy that tastes even better the longer you indulge. 
It's never enough though, no matter how much time you get to spend with your tongue buried inside her cunt, or how many times she cums all over your face—the taste of her is heaven, and you love turning this girl into nothing more than a whimpering, quivering mess who can’t even think straight. 
"Just like that, professor, fuck, don't stop, oh my god, don't fucking stop, please—“
She whines so freely while grinding down hard against your hungry lips you can hardly breathe. Not that you have any problem about that, because you know exactly where Arin is, can feel those thighs vibrate all around you to know those limits are about to be surpassed, and you don't plan to let up for even a moment.
You ramp up your efforts in devouring her cunt without a moment to rest, your tongue all over her clit, sucking so harshly, so relentlessly, drowning in these delicious juices. It’s obvious how Arin's hips can't stay steady for a second longer, seconds from losing herself entirely. "Professor! Fuck, I'm so fucking close. Keep going, keep—oh fuck, right there, I'm gonna cum so fucking hard, fuck—"
Arin bucks her hips into your face with wild abandon, her juices smearing across your lips when you bring her to the verge of release, until she finally topples over completely. 
Everything goes muffled while she keeps her thighs squeezed tightly around your head, violently trembling throughout her orgasm as you lick her through the entire thing. Like every other time you've brought her over that blissful edge, it's beautiful, turning your face into a mess, and you greedily lap up everything that freely spills into your mouth from her overflowing cunt. 
When those thighs let off and relax, you look up at Arin's blissed out visage, completely enamored in the pleasure, shivering and trembling with a high-pitched squeal as you give her clit one more loud slurp for good measure. Your focus then shifts back to her messy folds, delving deep into them to clean up those juices she's gushing so profusely, a never ending stream of wet, sticky deliciousness. 
"Fuck, your cunt always tastes so amazing," you mutter, lapping at the girl's slick covered thighs, getting out every drop that leaks out with a few soft licks. Arin stays motionless on the counter, looking straight up to the ceiling while her chest heaves, still seeing stars.
After indulging a little while longer, and spending all the time necessary getting those warm thighs mostly clean, there's only one thing left to do. Your mouth pulls away, but only so you can yank your pants down to your ankles, your stiff cock aching to get inside of her. 
"Gonna fucking ruin you, Yewon. Hope you’re ready for me to wreck that tight little cunt."
"When am I not? Please, give it to me already," Arin desperately pleads, pulling herself from her haze to look at the throbbing length you're stroking as her eyes beg you to sink in and fill her up. 
Sitting herself up on the sink, she keeps herself propped up with her hands planted behind her body, spreading her thighs apart as far as possible, with her wet cunt presented so lewdly and invitingly. "Shove that dick right in me, professor. Give it to me as hard as you can."
Without another thought wasted, you slowly guide the swollen tip of your cock past those drenched lower lips, groaning unabashedly when all this slippery warmth welcomes you deep inside. It's far too easy, how you slide into her, walls so dripping with arousal that allow this ache to dissipate when you effortlessly impale Arin all the way, right to the hilt.
"My god, Yewon, fucking love this tight pussy," you groan as her walls clamp down, holding you right inside that delicious grip with no plans to release you. 
She's so soaking wet when you start pounding away inside, each thrust coated in all those messy juices as your cock bottoms out every time. Your deep strokes make full use of her open shirt, causing her modest breasts to bounce as her back hits the mirror with each hard slam. Arin clenches around you with such an unyielding grip as you pump in and out, loving how rough you are, how forceful your hips are, moaning louder and louder, still sensitive from the previous release. 
“And I love being stretched on your huge fucking cock.”
There's not an ounce of mercy in your thrusts, just pure carnal lust taking hold. Her wet folds remain parted, taking the full length of your pounding shaft, every last inch driving into that slick little cunt without restraint. You take advantage of how her legs drape over the sink, grabbing her thighs, spreading them to give you more leverage to angle your thrusts deeper, and she kicks her heels off to give you even more control, allowing you to use her body however you please.
"It feels so good, professor," she says, while each thrust stays rough and deliberate, buried to the hilt in her wetness. "This cock of yours—is so perfect."
"That's because your cunt is made for it," you groan, sweat forming on her skin under your grip as your hips slam against her. It's absolute bliss, watching the way her entire body responds each time you sink in, hearing her soft whines that she’s unable to hold any back while getting fucked so mercilessly over this counter top. "You take my cock so well."
"Of course I do," she insists, the biggest grin on her face that gets interrupted with more moans. "I'm the professor's favorite student, after all."
"But definitely the worst one," you fire back, fingertips digging hard into her bare thighs all wrapped up in these sexy thigh high stockings as they jiggle with every relentless thrust.
"So—how many points is this?" Arin asks, bracing herself against the mirror when you pound into her even harder, every inch of your cock covered in her sweet essence.
"As many as you fucking want, Yewon."
"Then make it a thousand. I can use them on the next assignment, right?"
"Use them on whatever you want, the final exam even. So long as I get to cum inside you."
"Of course, professor. Fill me all the way up. Cum inside me as much as you fucking want," she says, and those tits bounce more hypnotically every time you pick up the pace, slamming deeper with more force each time. After every plunge balls deep, that tightness becomes more overwhelming, urging you to give your all, as if the sight of her all sprawled out and creaming on your cock isn't enough already. 
It's merciless. And your hips start to reach their limit, but Arin's desperate cries of pleasure become so loud, that she has no choice but to muffle herself with her hand, almost forgetting that this seldom used bathroom is still right by the science lab—and anyone could be lingering around. 
"Fucking fill me, professor. Empty your balls. Just keep—oh god, fuck, fuck," Arin whimpers, the limits of her body creeping up fast as your cock pistons so harshly in and out of her hot cunt. "Wanna milk every last drop right out of you, make you cum so fucking hard."
"Only if you’re good and cum on this cock, Yewon. Cum all over me, and I'll fucking fill this cunt up."
"Yes, god, yes," she says, practically falling back against the mirror while you brutally hammer into her at full force. She barely keeps the coherence when it all peaks, when you feel those impossibly tight walls clenching around your cock, borderline painful, forcing you to use every ounce of strength to not burst inside her just yet. 
"Fuck, professor, this dick is so amazing—I'm gonna cum all over it, all over your fucking huge cock," Arin says as her pussy squeezes the life out of your cock with every impale in that wet, intoxicating heat. A flood of her fluids almost forces you out, an absolute mess that drowns your shaft in slick rips through her body without any care, and all you can do is fuck her through it. 
Even when her orgasm subsides, and she somehow becomes tighter, wetter, easier to sink into, you don't show any remorse while fucking her tight pussy until you can't possibly hold on any further. 
"You're close, aren't you, professor?" Arin gasps between collecting her breath as the pleasure begins to fade, watching the struggle you're going through to hold it back. "I know you are. Please, let me have all that cum. Blow your fucking load in me, let it all out." 
That's all you need to be shoved straight over the edge, taking a few final strokes before that pressure builds up to a boiling point, and nothing’s going to stop you when you’re about to burst. “Yewon—“ 
Her name barely escapes before you’re throbbing, letting out all types of lustful grunts while her pussy smothers you in  warmth, offering the best place for such a messy release of seed that shoots out, coating her insides the way she begs for. 
Your cock violently pulsates until you’re left with nothing but orgasmic relief, unloading shot after shot deep inside Arin with the thickest spurts imaginable that empty into her warm little pussy. These tight, tight walls take every drop, welcoming such a huge load that’s even somehow stronger than what her mouth did to you earlier.  
There’s no way you could do anything else with how delicious she looks on this bathroom counter. With whatever remnants of energy are left, you use all the power in your hips until they lose steam, remaining inside her euphoric cunt that refuses to relinquish you. You ride out wave after wave, each spasm pumping more cum into her, all this intoxicating bliss that feels like it’ll never end. 
And truly, both of you wish it never would. 
“Professor…” Arin can barely speak between breaths, riding this collective high that fills the room with heavy panting, and sweat glistens on whatever bare skin her revealing outfit offers. You’re right there with her, caressing her thighs, her messy cunt wringing out as much out of you as possible, like it doesn’t want your cock to escape, even after your entire load is buried inside that delicious warmth. 
“Came so hard on you, professor, fuck... I love the way your cum feels when you push it deeper, all the way into my womb. Wanna keep it all here until you’re ready for round two.” 
"You're fucking insatiable, Yewon," you sigh, dropping Arin's legs back onto the counter, which relinquishes the intense grip you’ve held, allowing her body a chance to relax. When your breathing returns to something somewhat stable, you lean over to give her a tired kiss, one that’s easily returned with whatever remaining energy she has. 
“Can you blame me when your dick is this good? It’s only your fault I turned into such a greedy little cumslut.” 
“Or maybe you were already like that before I even met you…"
"Yeah. Maybe."
Arin looks away as she starts to giggle, giving you a perfect chance to kiss that exposed cheek. When she glances back, you share an impossibly long stare, one that goes on far too long without words until you lean in for another kiss—
One that gets interrupted by a knock at the door. 
"Hello? Is anyone there? Custodial services, I'm here to clean up." 
You must have angered some kind of god for this to happen two times in one day. Even worse, there’s no easy way out of this while you're still buried inside Arin, the least of your concerns as this creamy mess threatens to spill out. 
"I, uh—need a moment. Spilled something on my shirt that won't come out. Be out in a bit," you blurt out, barely thinking while you look around at the poor bathroom that's been defiled. Arin can't help herself, covering her mouth to help from not immediately bursting into laughter as she fumbles to button back up her shirt. 
“You’re such a bad liar,” Arin whispers, but you just roll your eyes at her, glancing over the sweat on her body that you’d no doubt be licking clean were the two of you not nervously waiting to see if this unfamiliar man outside will buy your story.
"No problem, sir. Take your time, I'll be back after.” The janitor shuffles his feet, and you listen carefully, wondering just how obvious the two of you were being. When you can no longer hear footsteps, you release the longest sigh, and slowly pull out of Arin, along with an utterly unreal amount of hot semen that spills out. 
"Can't believe he bought that," Arin sighs while hopping off the counter, where more of your cum gushes out as soon as she stands up. "Can't believe you came so much inside me, either."
"If I recall, you were quite literally begging me not to stop."
"No need to be smug about it, professor."
Arin does her best to look presentable in the mirror and fix her disheveled hair, shirt only half buttoned, and skirt a complete mess, but it all seems so futile. There's no real way to hide how she looks after getting railed over the sink relentlessly, or the cum still dripping all over her thighs that she doesn't even bother to clean up. 
"We should get out of here before he comes back," Arin says after giving her appearance a once-over, making any minor adjustment to try and fix how ruined she looks. "Shall I leave first, professor?"
The question has only one obvious answer, but you still can't form your lips properly to speak it. "Not so fast, Miss Choi."
"Oh? Am I forgetting something?" Arin asks while running fingers through her hair again. You step towards her, pressing into her back to wrap your arms around her tiny frame before planting a kiss on the side of her neck.
"Yeah—me. You're not leaving this room without me."
You notice her grin in the mirror as your lips graze her skin again, nipping right on that sensitive spot that makes her gasp. 
"Don't tell me you're wanting to go again. After we almost got caught. Again—"
"No, not yet," you say between kisses, drawing closer and closer up her neck. "Need a little bit more rest for that."
"You poor thing. Did my pussy wear you out that much, professor?"
"You can barely stand upright as it is," you retort, taking your mouth away from her neck for a moment. Arin stifles a laugh that turns into a moan when your hand creeps up her skirt to touch her dripping folds still leaking your cum. "You need this a lot more than I do."
"Is that so? Well—fuck," Arin moans, unable to hide her body betraying her words as she grips the edge of the counter when two of your fingers slide into her without warning, pushing a mixture of her nectar and the load you pumped inside deep into her messy cunt. 
"It's too bad I can't continue this," you say, and withdraw those fingers from Arin's clenching pussy that so desperately tries to keep them in to no avail. "Let's get out of here. But you're not leaving my side."
"If you insist, professor." Arin has no further words, fixing up her skirt while so much thick seed oozes beneath. "But isn't it a little risky to leave together?"
"Probably. But besides, even if somebody does see us, so what? There's not much they can do about it even if they can already tell what just happened. And what are you always saying—how much you love the risk?"
"Guess I'm rubbing off on you, hmm?"
"Not a chance, Miss Choi," you correct, causing that grin across her face to grow wider. "I'm just tired of sneaking around so much."
"Me too, professor." 
You turn to leave, opening the bathroom door to poke your head around the corner. Luckily, there doesn't seem to be anyone around, only a couple of students you don't recognize standing nearby chatting, paying no mind as you and Arin sneak out successfully together.
“Where are we headed?” asks Arin as she settles in right next to you, something that's going to take getting used to. 
"Dunno. Cafeteria is still open. Guess we can head there first."
"Not if it's still raining. It's a bit of a trek, isn't it?" 
"My car's right out front. And if we so happen to take a little detour..." 
"Now who's being insatiable, professor?" she asks, with this little teasing giggle in her voice. 
“What? Who said I planned on doing anything with you other than grabbing some dinner? You know, I don't think you've had anything in your mouth today but my—"
"Professor!" Arin's not used to your conversation being this open, or being on the opposite side of being so flustered. "Save it for when we're not outside! Or better, the back seat. With the doors locked, preferably."
"As you wish, Miss Choi. Besides, but there's nothing I rather eat than your—"
She desperately covers your mouth to stop any further words from escaping as you head to the parking lot, surprised to see there's nothing but abundant sunshine now. Even more surprising is the fact nobody looks twice as the two of you walk together. Maybe it's luck, or maybe everybody here knows damn well what happens on campus between you two. 
And maybe you'll stop sneaking around campus every day, finding just enough time to spend the last half of your lunch hour buried between Arin’s thighs while she tries to hold her moans. 
But maybe you won't. 
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starandcloud · 5 months
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Pretty Pumpkin
Solivan Brugmansia x reader
TW: Breaking and Entering, Somnophilia, (slightly) manipulative reader,
Word Count: 3,377
Average reading time: 12 minutes 17 seconds
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You were a smart student, you knew your stuff. Which is how you got here, a scholarship. You were perfect in just about every way, you were smart, graceful, top of the class, and did volunteer work after classes. You worked at the swimming pool during the summer and the plant nursery whenever you could. You were the dream. And the worst part?
You knew it.
You knew the looks you got, but you played it like you didn't. You knew your window lock wouldn't suddenly break, you knew someone had broken in. You noticed when things were moved, but you played along. Along into the sweet little fantasy whoever was trying to spin you into. You installed hidden cameras and watched them in the morning every time you actually slept at your own apartment, you watched as someone entered your room and just... admired you? You were honestly expecting worse, you were expecting a lot worse if you were completely honest. But you didn't know who it was, so you shifted the cameras and that's when you figured it out.
You locked yourself in your closet, the only place with no windows other than the kitchen, and watched the footage. You watched him enter, you listened to him speak and call you a sweet little thing and play with your hair. You could see his gentle smile and you could just feel the love drunk energy from him. You squinted your eyes then you saw it, you saw those green streaks and you smirked.
"Clever boy, what a clever little thing."
You praised Sol as he showed you his math test. Another one. Your hand nestled in his hair and you could feel him tense up under you as that blush stretched over his cheeks. You watched him look away and cover his face with his hand and you faked a pout and showed him your eighty-five percent.
"I did horrible Sol," you whined out and forced your bottom lip to quiver, "I really studied for this one..."
You had a mock sad tone in your voice as you looked down, your hair shifting as you did. You could see him move to comfort you and his hands gently rested on your shoulders, "H-Hey," you listened to him stammer before he calmly explained that you did your best. That's what matters. You leaned into him and gripped the back of his shirt, mock tears in your eyes as your shoulder's shook. Mimicking a cry as you buried your face in his chest, "I-I really tried... I-I don't know what's going on," you forced out with a sad tone, your voice cracking slightly as you did. You felt his arms dip around you and wrap around your waist as he held you close, "m-my grades are just dropping now," your words came out with a whimper as you pushed yourself closer to him, keeping up the act of upset princess, you looked up at him. Tears in your waterline as your bottom lip quivered, "am... am I stupid now Sol," you asked. Watching as he looked down at you with such a tender expression you couldn't help but almost surrender this game you were playing.
"No... no of course not," he whispered as one of his hands came up to your head and delicately pushed it against his chest, "it's just a rough patch. It'll be okay, it's all those holidays recently, that's all."
He promised as he rocked the both of you, you could see your friend close by. You locked eyes with her and gave a little smirk as you rolled your eyes and made a false cry before mouthing 'little games are back' before burying your face in Sol's chest. You felt him hold you tighter and you gently tightened your grip on him, you could feel his heart beat against his ribs and it made you grin. Eventually you pried yourself from him, hiding your face with your hair as you gathered your belongings and laced your fingers with Sol's as the two of you walked towards the library. You needed books for a class, which also gave you another opportunity to act like you needed Sol. Huffing, you reached for another book. It was with in your reach, but you purposely acted like you couldn't reach.
"Sol," you whined out and batted your eyelashes at him, "can you grab that for me?"
You asked with a little jump, making sure to coordinate your movements in such away that the book you wanted was just out of reach. Pouting you stomped your foot slightly and huffed before you felt Sol right behind you, you smirked and watched as his arm went above you and grabbed the book. You whisked around and gave him a hug, "oh you're the best," you exclaimed. Your voice happy and excited, as if he had just done the impossible for you. You felt his hand rest on your shoulder and you looked up at him, you saw him looking away and knew exactly what you were doing to him. Grabbing the book from his hand, you made sure that your fingertips brushed against his arm as you reached up and you leaned your body against him before you finally grabbed the book.
"You're the best Sol, you really are, you're like- the best person ever, and you're super duper smart," you said your voice like honey as you tucked the book into your back and picked it up, "oh I know! Could you tutor me?"
You asked as you tugged your bag over your shoulder and looked over at him, watching his eyes become puzzled and his body tensed as he tried to comprehend what you had just said to him. You watched the gears turn until he figured it out, you watched his face turn a beautiful shade of red and him look away. You knew what the answer would be, 'of course, what subjects?' you knew his sweet little facade all to well. After all, you were playing it too.
The last bell sounded like a starting shot at races, you packed your bag and sent a quick text to Sol; asking if he wanted to hang out. You were meant with an immediate response and you smiled softly before waiting at the school gate. When he came into view you acted all sorts of excited to see him, you bounced on your toes and laced your fingers with his as you lead him towards your apartment. You smiled as you walked around the back with him, telling him you just wanted to check on the little kitty you found the other day, and forced a frown when you didn't see it. Though there was actually a kitten back there the other day, you had already found it's parents, and it was just a ploy. You noticed where the grass seemed to be flatter and ran your fingers over it, helping it stand up right.
"Sol, look at this, a deer must've laid down here last night."
You spoke with a giggle as you pointed out the imprint, you watched as he tensed up and hid your smirk as you watched him try to usher you inside. Saying something about how you must be cold, you couldn't help but laugh as he gently pulled you into your own apartment. You excused yourself and changed into a hoodie and leggings, honestly it wasn't planned. It was just what you were comfortable in, you threw your hair into a bun and sat next to Sol. You pulled out your math books and smiled gently as he started to talk about how to do the math problems you were "having issues with". You nodded and listened intently, you let your hand "accidentally" rest on his thigh as you leaned forward and laid your head against his shoulder. At the end of the study session, you walked him to the door and gave him some food. It was supposed to be your lunch for tomorrow, but here you were, you'd honestly just buy lunch tomorrow at school. It wasn't a big deal, you promised, as you urged him to take the food. Which he did eventually take, you smiled and gave him a tight hug before watching him walk away. You shut your door and then settled on the couch, you turned on a shitty rom-com and watched it until you were bored. You honestly hated those things, but you laughed at every corny joke and made an effort to make yourself look like you were enjoying it.
Later that night, an hour or so later than when you actually went to bed, you were listening to music. Bopping your head around as you cut your eyes towards the window, at the general location you knew he would be. The imprint, which you took a guesstimate at it's location, wasn't far from your window so you just smiled sweetly and then went back to your music. You weren't aware of how quickly he ducked behind the tree and how he clutched his chest or how his blush was bright enough you could've used it as a flashlight. Honestly he wasn't even sure if you even knew he was there, you did, or if you knew if it wasn't a deer but him, you knew, but he let out a shaky breath when your bedroom lights went off. He waited a few minutes before hiking your window open and climbing in, he stood in front of you and pulled his mask down. You heard him approach and felt him sit beside you, so you decided to play a little game with him. You furrowed your brows and muttered out his name in your "sleep", you could hear the gasp that came from him and how his fingers gently brushed over your cheek to feel you against his skin.
"I'm here Pumpkin," he mumbled back, "right here."
He sounded like he was promising that he'd be there when you woke up, you knew he wouldn't be so you shifted close to him. Still feigning sleep as you whined in your sleep as you felt his hand leave your skin. You felt him gently put his hand on yours and his breath against your skin, "so pretty," he muttered before his lips connected with your neck. You could feel how gentle he was trying to be, you could feel how he was trying not to leave a mark as he licked, gently bit, and sucked on your skin. You could feel his want for you through how he breathed and how tender he was, so you let out a little whimper.
"Shit..."
You heard him curse when he pulled away, you felt him stand up and heard him rummage through your drawers. You could hear his panic as he whispered, "where the fuck do they keep their makeup," you heard him yank open another drawer and it clatter to the ground. You stirred in your bed and then you heard nothing. It was a good five minutes before you felt him settle next to you again, his fingers gentle against your neck as he applied concealer to your neck. Hoping you wouldn't notice the hickey in the morning. You kept hearing him mumble about how pretty and perfect you were before he fell silent. So you whimpered out his name in your sleep again, you felt him clutch your hand and press a kiss to your head. You felt his lips trail down your face before he hesitantly pressed a kiss to your lips, a smile stretched across your lips and you stirred in your "sleep" again. You heard him sigh and then whisper out, "I have to go Pumpkin; I love you," before he left. You felt his hand leave yours and the sound of your window sliding open and shut. You waited a few minutes before you navigated through your apartment to the bathroom, you delicately removed the makeup and smirked slightly at the dark mark on your skin. You gently traced the delicate skin and knew what you were doing tomorrow.
You walked into school with a pep in your step, your hair pulled up and away from your neck as you showed off the hickey from Sol. When asked about it you gave a halfhearted shrug before you told them it was a curling iron accident, which most believed. You went about your day until lunch, where you watched Sol freeze in place before you called out to him. You watched his mind buffer for a moment before he continued over to you. Hyugo pointed out the hickey and you cut your eyes at Sol, who choked on his lunch, before you laughed it off and said it was the weirdest thing. You thought just kind woke up with it, but figured you just burned it on the curling iron that morning when you were too tired to comprehend what was going on.
It was a few weeks later when you finally decided to catch him in the act. Humming softly to yourself, you shut your blinds and went about your nightly routine. You hummed softly as you fixed a false body into your bed, made of pillows, some towels, and a wig. You flicked your light off and waited in a dark corner. You watched Sol quietly enter before you took light steps behind him, "Sol," you whispered out as he whipped around. Your delicate fingertips rested against his chest before you pushed him onto your bed, your legs gently straddled his as you sat on his lap. You held his upper body up by his sweatshirt and pulled his mask down.
"How long do you think you could do this for Clever Boy?"
You questioned as your eyes scanned his flushed face, you watched his eyes flick around as he fumbled through words. A sadistic grin crossed your face as you gently took his neck in your hand, squeezing softly before you pulled him close. Your nails digging into his back as you grinned as his dazed out look made a shiver go down your spine, before you clicked your tongue at him.
"My, my, you're pathetic Sol. Utterly pathetic."
The whine that met your ears at your disapproval of him and his actions. Delicately you lead his hand to your waist and you felt his pulse sped up under your fingers, making you laugh.
"God... Getting all worked up, just by touching my waist Sol? God, you're sick..."
You spat, making him look away from you. A mad look in his eyes before you jerked his head back, his face centimeters from yours as you growled lowly.
"I didn't say you could look away Sol. Don't fucking look away from me, don't you dare."
You said, your commands making his eyelashes flutter.
"H-How," Sol started as he tried to hold eye contact with you, "how did you know Pumpkin..?"
His voice came out barely above a whisper and you laughed before pushing his upper body against the bed. You looked down at him with a snarl.
"I'm not an idiot, you moved my food and drinks. Put sleeping medication in them, I'm not an idiot Sol. There's camera's everywhere. I know everything you've done in the past month Sol. So come on, tell me why. Tell me why you did it."
You demanded as he fumbled for answers, though the only pathetic words that left his lips were "love you" and you just wouldn't take that.
"Oh hunny," you coo'd as you pulled him back up and held his face in your hands, "you're sick pathetic bastard. There's no way I could love someone who decided to mark me at night, when they thought I was asleep."
Your voice came out so sweet, but that didn't stop his eyes from getting sad and looking away. If you couldn't love him, why didn't you call the police? Or move? If you couldn't love him, why're you holding him like this? Your hands on his face and sitting in his lap. He was so confused he didn't register his arms wrapping around you, or how you pushed his head against your neck until you spoke.
"So why don't we try that again, hm? Mark me while you know I'm awake Clever Boy..."
Your finger's played with his hair and he delicately kissed you, making sure not to hurt you as he held you tight. You grimaced at his delicate nature and grabbed a handful of his hair before yanking it back, you heard a whimper and saw how his eyes filled with tears.
"If you're not going to take care of me, then I'll find someone who will."
You threatened as you began to get up. Just as you were standing he pulled you back into him and whined, "n-no I can," he whined and buried his face in your neck. Lapping and sucking at the skin, pulling a content hum from your lips. You whimpered softly when he bit down at the skin, that's when the dynamic changed. His hands pulled you closer to him, and he got more aggressive with his assault on your neck. Your whimpers turning into soft moans before you whimpered out his name, a groan came from Sol as you whimpered again. Your eyes rolled back and you gripped at his hair again, this time gentle and desperate as you shuffled closer to him.
"Fuck... you sound so pretty Pumpkin..."
You whimpered quietly at Sol's whispered words your body moved closer to his and you whined softly. You wanted him so badly right now, to feel his touch against your skin. Is this how he felt? Desperate and needy for your touch? You don't remember when he had you underneath him, or when your pajama pants were yanked off but you do remember how his face was buried in your neck and how he whined when his cock was fully inside you. You clung to him, your nails leaving irritated red streaks down his back as he littered your skin with gentle bites and hickies, you choked out a moan when his hips snapped into you. You sobbed out in pleasure, making him stop. You whined and squirmed when he stopped before he kissed you, "are you alright," he murmured out as he gently pulled away from the kiss and stared lovingly down into your eyes. Yours were tear filled and desperate as you nodded, god why did he stop? Was this a punishment? Was he teasing? No... his hands gently held your face as he kissed you again, his thrusts gentle and loving as your eyes fluttered shut. Your arms went around his neck and you pulled him closer, you wanted to feel every inch of his skin on yours.
The morning came and your eyes fluttered open, you were dressed and you smelled pretty. You smelled like your shampoo and like something else... you couldn't even think about it correctly. You couldn't place the smell, and you started to think it was all just a wet dream. You couldn't find anything on your camera's other than you falling asleep. You honestly couldn't remember how you even thought of that for a dream, it upset you the entire walk to school. You didn't think anything was off until Sol wrapped his arms protectively around you and you remembered that gentle touch. You jumped at first before your body unconsciously melted against him, it was then your best friend pointed out the hickies that were poking out from your collar. You flushed a deep red, an actual blush. You couldn't remember the last time your heart beat that fast, which brought a chuckle from Sol as he murmured against your neck.
"You're adorable Pumpkin, did you at least enjoy our fun last night?"
Those words convinced you it wasn't a wet dream and you wanted to curl up and die, smacking Sol's arm you brought a laugh from him and a goofy smile before you felt him kiss the top of your head. You loved this so much, you loved being held, but maybe you only loved it because it was Sol.
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prismalmelonman · 3 months
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Touching on Gale, Wyll, and Halsin's traumas being a bit undermined in parts of the fandom
So one thing I notice on Twitter is how some people act about the bg3 characters whose abuses were perpetuated by women.
Gale specifically for this reason (but I will touch on others)bbecause I see him dismissed super often as "can't get over his ex".
But Gale's case obviously be has the line of Mystra being like "she was my muse, my teacher, and then my lover" and sure to some that's a red flag in itself (when it comes to adults I don't really give a fuck about teacher/student) but if you view it from not only Gale's own words "ive been connected with the weave for as long as i can remember"
And that doesn't distract from his genuine love of magic of course. And it also doesn't mean that he's actually been in connection with mystra for an amount of time.
However, if you ascend Gale, and he becomes a god, you get a bunch of new little things. Tara reminiscing of course, but you get a letter from Elminster, detailing that Mystra had Elminster scope out Gale when he was eight!
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And sure is that pretty cool that he's a prodigy that got the attention of the goddess of magic at that age? Yes. Mystra is, however, known in forgotten Realms lore to seek young young boys who are in tune with magic to make into her chosen. And from context clues, her chosen can be anything from Elminster and Volo, dedicated wizards who try to keep things in check, etc etc. or they're somewhat of playthings to her.
Minsc also has a conversation where me mentions that weave-touched boys in his homeland were hidden away to hone their craft, then suspecting that it was because of Mystra, given Gale's case.
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Gale always seems so proud that he got to bed a goddess, and on the surface, hell yeah, that's cool.
Gale continued to have her attention even as he went to Blackstaff Academy, and Mystra eventually did take him on as an apprentice directly to her, later making him her chosen, and sleeping with him.
The reason it bothers me that people dismiss all of Gale's stuff to just "he can't get over his ex" is because that's is like almost textbook grooming? She was in his life from a young age, shaping and moulding him up as he grew up to be her perfect chosen, rewarding him by sleeping with him, and so on. And then of course casting him away when he has his folly with the netherese orb (and to be fair, it very well could have looked like to her that he was trying to seize the power himself and yes the orb does siphon off weave. That is a problem for the mistress of the weave yes).
But she also tells gale to KILL HIMSELF for her forgiveness.
Gale is much more than "unable to be over his ex" this woman was in his life since he was a kid. She's almost all he has ever known. If course it's going to be difficult for him to 1. Say no to her. 2. Get over the fact that he's lost someone that he spent his literal entire life dedicated to. Honestly if asked, I don't even think Gale would acknowledge or really see that what he went through was, in fact, abuse until it was spelled out in front of him. (Which does happen somewhat with the player character pleading to him that killing himself for mystra's forgiveness is actually horrific and that he should in fact be angry for how he was treated)
Similarly, and this one has been discussed a lot, Wyll and Mizora. Wyll was 17 and actively trying to help his people. 17, in a vulnerable state, willing to do anything to help and prove himself. Mizora very clearly took advantage of him, and regards him as a "pet", refers to him being "leashed", and so on. Personally, I do dislike the sexualization of their relationship, because it very much is also grooming (although a different type. Rather than manipulating and shaping his life from the ground up, she takes advantage of a vulnerable and desperate state to manipulate and contract Wyll into doing her bidding. I won't go too deep I to this one because it has been discussed to hell and back. But I did wanna touch on Wyll's situation as well.
Also, Halsin as well, though that has also been discussed in many retrospectives by a very good friend of mine. Halsin's trauma often get dismissed due to his polyamory, open sexual nature, and his own somewhat diminishing/dismissal of it, which honestly I love the representation of, cause for a while I did that with my own trauma. Halsin was a sex slave to a house of Lolth-Sworn drow, a matriarchal society, where the men are generally used as fodder or for breeding, though male Lolth-Sworn drow can be wizards and rise in the ranks if wizardry, but are limited everywhere else. (Minthara mentions that the third male, and every subsequent male child after third are killed for being"useless"). Halsin often referred to them as "hosts" rather than being captors, (though he does touch on that if the Player Character threatens to sell him back into slavery). Again, everything I'd have to say here for Halsin has entirely been discussed top to bottom by a friend, their link is below!!
Anyway, long story short, I dislike it a lot when Gale, Wyll, and Halsin's traumas and abuses get diminished, even if/when the character themself doesn't see or acknowledge the abuse in the same lens that we, the players, do.
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obsessedwithceleste · 7 months
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Fighting Fate (It’s a losing battle)
Theodore Nott x gn!reader
Inspired by, and dedicated to @musingsofahufflepuff
Summary: soulmate!au in which everyone sees in black and white until they meet their soulmate. Bold of fate to assume it can tell you what to do.
word count: 3.1k
©️ obsessedwithceleste. all works posted here belong to me and should not be reposted or copied in any way or form.
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Ever since your first day at Hogwarts, you’d been told that you were lucky. A one in a million chance. Exceptional. Because as soon as you’d been sorted, and the sorting hat had been lifted up off of your head, your eyes had met his, and the world had burst into color.
It had been wildly disorientating at first- you almost fainted from the visual overload as the banners over each section of students burst into bright color. As you went to take your seat, you got strange looks from several students, but you never felt his eyes leave you.
You’d always thought it was rubbish. Even at the ripe old age of eleven. Your mother had first explained the idea of soulmates to you as a bedtime story. You remember her explaining how everything looked bland and colorless now because you hadn’t met your soulmate yet. But once you did, the world would come to life.
“When will I meet my soulmate?” You’d asked.
“Well, that’s the catch isn’t it? It’s different for everyone. Some meet their soulmate very young. At school even. But some, some will never meet their soulmate. They can be anywhere in the world, fate doesn’t discriminate.”
You’d scrunched your little nose up in distaste.
“That’s stupid. Why do I have to listen to fate?”
Your mother had only laughed, tucking you in and kissing your forehead goodnight. But the sentiment had remained as you grew up. How could someone really just be meant for you? Ridiculous.
Theo had known that you were going to be his soulmate before fate did. He’d watched silently from his seat on the train as you boarded, a nervous grin on your face as you waved goodbye to your family. You were perfect, and he couldn’t take his eyes off of you. At least until Mattheo swatted his arm.
“What’re you staring at, mate?” He’d asked loudly, gaining the attention of the other boys in the carriage.
“See them, there?” Theo asked, pointing to where you were boarding. “That’s going to be my soulmate.” He’d announced proudly.
“Yeah, okay mate,” the other boys had laughed, quickly moving on to the next topic.
But Theo didn’t take his eyes off of you until you disappeared through the train doors and off into some unknown compartment.
The next time he saw you was at the sorting ceremony. He watched as you confidently made your way up to the front, the smile never leaving your face as McGonagall lowered the hat onto your head. It only took a few moments of deliberation before the hat was being lifted off of your head and Theo’s eyes met yours.
It was like the wind was taken out of him as the room sprung to life, colors swirling around his vision as his eyes raced around the room in awe.
By the end of the night, all of Theo’s friends had been sorted into Slytherin with him. Mattheo, Enzo, Draco, Blaise. Even Crabbe and Goyle.
“I was right on the train. About them being my soulmate,” he’d announced proudly, pointing out different objects and describing the different colors to his friends who wondered in amazement.
You on the other hand, didn’t speak a word of it to anyone until you accidentally let it slip to your mother over break that you could see the pretty colored ornaments strung up on the tree.
She’d been thrilled of course, wanting to know every detail about this soulmate of yours. What did he look like? What house was he? Had the two of you spoken.
You answered each question with less enthusiasm than the one prior, and eventually she got the point and stopped asking.
As soon as the news slipped that Theodore Nott, a child of the sacred twenty-eight, and son of Tiberius Nott no less, could see in color however, it didn’t take long for people to start noticing you. Telling you how lucky you were to have found your soulmate. To be able to see color. As if you wanted a soulmate at eleven years old.
The first few years it was easy to avoid. Being only eleven or twelve, Theo was content admiring you from a far. Third year was when the boy finally got the courage to really try and talk to you for the first time. Sure he’d said hi a few times over the past couple years, but nothing you’d found particularly note worthy. Especially not for someone who was supposedly your soulmate.
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“Are you any good at charms?” A voice asks, startling you as you look up from the essay you had been finishing up in the court yard. It was a warm, cloudy day, with only a light breeze, so you’d thought it would be the perfect day to take your studies outside.
You stare up in surprise at the brunette boy in front of you, watching silently as he takes a seat across from you.
In the past, you'd played the avoiding game, quickly scurrying off if you saw the boy or his friends approaching. This year, you hadn't been taking the same precautions, and it seemed Theodore was taking full advantage.
“I’m alright,” you reply hesitantly.
That was a lie. Charms was your best subject, but you were hoping the boy might go away. He didn’t.
"I know that you're top of the class," he responds, staring intently at you with a sly smirk.
That afternoon you begrudgingly helped Theodore with his charms homework, and he happily helped you with your DADA essay. There wasn’t a whole lot of interaction between the two of you, but he wasn’t horrible you supposed. At least he had brain cells to rub together.
After that he kept popping up sporadically throughout your third year.
At quidditch tryouts he'd insisted on partnering with you for several of the drills. You both were offered a place on the team. In the Great Hall he'd seek you out to ask about the homework assignment he'd missed after skiving off of class with Mattheo. The fact that you gave him your notes each time meant nothing. Obviously. And every so often, between the shelves of books in the library, you'd see a flash of soft brown hair, and intense eyes gazing at you before they disappeared as if you were imagining it.
With each increasing encounter, the both of you made idle conversation as you kept the boy at an arms length. It was nothing personal really. In fact the more you thought about it, he seemed perfectly alright. But something in your stubborn thirteen year old self just wanted to stick it to fate. So you continued to ice the boy out.
Theodore however, was nothing if not determined. He knew from the moment he saw you that he was meant to be yours, and he’d be damned if he let you slip through his fingers. Thirteen year old Theodore was a stubborn bastard and he knew he was willing to play the long game.
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Things grew a bit more complicated in fourth year when you became friends with some of the Slytherin crowd.
It had been an accident really. You’d been reading down by the Black Lake when Daphne Greengrass had stumbled upon you, followed closely by Pansy Parkinson and Lorenzo Berkshire.
“Oh!” she’d said in delight, seeing the book in your hands, “I love that book!”
The two of you ended up talking enthusiastically about the novel for almost an entire hour with Pansy and Enzo butting in every so often to add their thoughts.
“Wait, you’re Theodore’s soulmate aren’t you?” Enzo asks, eventually recognizing you.
You eye the boy cautiously as you nod slowly, suddenly feeling self conscious.
Pansy just wrinkles her nose.
“Sorry you got stuck with such a tosser.” She says.
The four of you are quiet for a moment before your laughter breaks the silence, the other three following shortly after.
After that, you’re integrated into their little group seamlessly. You’d always been a bit of a loner. Sure people would wander up to you often enough to chatter about what it was like to see colors, but that was really all people wanted to know about you. Like it was some trivial party trick.
It was nice having your own friends to study with and wander about Hogsmeade with on the weekends. It was nice to have people who liked being around you simply for being you. Not because some magical force had decided to bind you to a whole other human and grant you the ability to see color.
It didn’t take long for Theo to notice you hanging about more frequently. How could he not? You were so pretty. So smart and witty. So perfect. He was just so happy to have you around more often. Even if it wasn’t to spend time with him specifically.
He reveled in any little morsel of information that he could scrape up from your friends. Your favorite color, your favorite sweets at Honeydukes, your class schedule. Theo was willing to admit the last one was a bit weird, but he was really just hungry to learn anything he could about his elusive soulmate.
Soon enough, it didn’t become unusual for Theodore and Mattheo to join the four of you on your little excursions. Popping up at the Black Lake, or meeting up with you at the Three Broomsticks. He was just always there. As if he was making a point of it. And begrudgingly you began to let him in.
A friend of your friends was okay you thought. Wouldn’t hurt to get to know him a bit. That wasn’t crossing any lines.
For Theo however, this was huge. He was finally getting somewhere. Even if you weren’t ready for any sort of romantic relationship, he was going to be the best damn friend you’d ever had.
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By fifth year, there was simply no denying it. Theodore Nott was your best friend. You weren’t really sure how it had happened. The two of you just fit so well together. He had truly wormed his way into your life.
It had started with the study sessions.
"Remember when you helped me with charms in third year?" He'd asked. "I got top marks on that assignment."
As those became more frequent, it had turned into afternoons by the lake with both of you deep in your own novels, but sharing the comfortable silence.
Then it had morphed into weekends at Hogsmeade. Your friends thought they were being subtle when they consistently slipped away, leaving you and Theo to wander about the village. You couldn't find it in yourself to mind though.
You’d tried to keep him at an arms length. You really had. But Enzo couldn’t make you laugh as hard as you did with Theo. And Daphne just wasn’t the intellectual match that Theo was. And Pansy always made sure you let loose sure, but being around Theo was just- freeing.
You still weren’t sold on the whole soulmate thing though. Sure Theo was great. Perfect even. But you just couldn’t shake the icky feeling of blindly trusting fate to decide your life.
Then it happened. No one was expecting it. Especially not Pansy. But you and Pansy and Draco and Theo had all been working late on a potions assignment before dinner, and on your way back up from the dungeons, Pansy ran smack into a certain platinum haired Ravenclaw. You’d later find out that her name was Luna Lovegood. As soon as their eyes met, Pansy stumbled, leaning into you for support. You already knew what was happening as her eyes darted around wildly.
“Oh. I suppose we’re soulmates then aren’t we?” The girl said, a dreamy look overtaking her.
It all seemed too easy for them after that. It was like a flip had switched and the two were just mad for each other. A picture perfect example of what soulmates should be.
You found it to be slightly horrifying how blindly trusting fate could severely change a person and their relationship with an essential stranger.
Theo however, couldn’t help but feel a tinge of jealousy. He had what? Almost five whole years on Pansy, and was lucky to get a friendly hug out of his soulmate. Yet Pansy and Luna were inseparable after only a few short weeks.
Not that Theo thought he was entitled to your affection necessarily. But it would be nice if you’d at least acknowledge the bond you two shared he thought.
“Why don’t you believe in soulmates?” Daphne asks one night.
It was one of those rare nights where it was only you, Daphne, Pansy, and Enzo huddled together wrapped in thick, warm blankets inside Daphne and Pansy’s dorm room. Salazar knows where Millicent was off spending her night. A bottle of shared fire whisky sat between you and packs of chocolate frogs littered the floor.
You blink in surprise at your friend’s question. You didn’t talk about soulmate stuff much.
“I do believe in them,” you say with a simple shrug.
“Yeah but you don’t really believe in them, ya know? Why?” She pushes.
You pause again, glancing at Pansy who was looking back at you intently.
“I don’t know. I guess I just don’t like the idea of someone deciding to be with me, just because they’re supposed to.” You say finally.
“I suppose I know what you mean.” Pansy murmurs after a moment.
You look at the girl in surprise and can tell the other two are shocked as well.
“Don’t get me wrong. I adore Luna. Really. I always tell her that I’m so glad that fate put us together. But then sometimes I wonder. If it weren’t for fate, would I have even given her a second glance that day I bumped into her in the corridor?”
There’s a silent lull as your group mulls over Pansy’s words before slowly drifting off to a new topic.
In another dorm, not so far off, Theo lay on his bed staring blankly up at the ceiling.
“Think they’ll come around soon?” Mattheo asks, sensing his roommate’s building tension.
“I dunno. But I’ll wait,” he replies, closing his eyes and letting images of you flood his mind. “They’re worth it.”
That night as you’re leaving to return to your dorm, Enzo catches your arm, pulling you off to the side.
“You can never tell Theo that I told you this, but the first time I met Theo, we were on the train waiting to leave for Hogwarts and he pointed out the window to a someone and said ‘they’re going to be my soulmate’. Then, at the sorting ceremony he got all dizzy all the sudden, and when we got to the common room, he said that he’d been right about who his soulmate would be. You. Just thought you should know.”
And with that, he’s gone.
It’s after that that you really begin to see Theo. You’d never really given him a fighting chance. But now, you kind of wanted to.
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It’s the beginning of sixth year when Theo finally notices the shift. Notices you actually seeking him out on purpose, not flinching away when your hands brush, eyes hovering on his lips a bit too long for it to be accidental. And to say that he is ecstatic.
Meanwhile you were silently kicking yourself for taking so long to get over your petty bullshit with fate. Sure you still didn’t love the idea of it all, but after spending enough time with Theo, you could really, truly see the appeal.
After that night in fifth year, you began noticing how Theodore was one of the only students who could keep up with your academic prowess. He could always sense when you were tired, or stressed, or simply in a mood, and always did his best to subtly cheer you up. He was always there. Even after all the years you had put him through the wringer, he remained by your side. And that’s what really convinced you.
It’s also what landed you here, at the top of the astronomy tower, with your head in Theodore’s lap as his fingers raked gently through your hair.
It had become a usual meeting spot for the both of you. Theo had brought you up here a week into the school year starting. It was his safe place. His getaway when everything got to be too much, or when he just needed space to think. When those words had left his mouth you had melted. He trusted you. You had meant so much to him for so long, and you couldn't be bothered to give him the time of day.
“I’m sorry,” you mumble, eyes gazing out at the swirling navy sky that seemed to stretch on forever.
“For what, amore?”
“Dunno. Making you feel like you weren’t good enough, or makin you feel like a bad soulmate.”
Theo looks down at you, and you meet his steady gaze.
“I knew I was good enough, amore. We wouldn’t be soulmates if we weren’t perfect for each other.” He replies.
You perk up at this. “You think I’m perfect?” You ask, a dopey smile appearing on your face.
Theo just rolls his eyes, shaking his head as he laughs. He'd grown used to your antics. Just another piece of you that he'd grown fond of.
“I said that we’re perfect together. But you’re perfect too I suppose.”
It hadn’t taken nearly as long as you had expected to reach this point. It seemed that Theo had just been waiting for the word to switch on boyfriend mode. All it took was one spontaneous, heated make out session in his dorm room, and you had the boy wrapped around your finger. (He already had been for years, but you didn’t need to know that.)
“Alright. Wrap it up love birds. You better be fully clothed,” Pansy calls, head peeping up from the top of the staircase leading up to the tower. “You two have been up here for hours, and you can’t have them all to yourself Theodore. They were our friend first.”
“Yeah! Time’s up lover boy!” You hear Enzo call.
Theo groans, head falling back as he rises lazily, offering you a hand up.
“I waited five years for this, can’t you guys let me have my moment?” He calls back.
“No!” The chorus replies.
With a laugh, you grab onto Theo’s hand, tugging him towards the stairs.
“C’mon. If we get Mattheo and Enzo drunk enough, they won’t notice if I spend the night,” you say with a cheeky wink.
“I heard that!” Enzo’s voice rings out.
“You wouldn’t say no to me anyway,” you shout back.
With a smile, Theo follows you down the stairs after your rowdy friends, hand wrapped tightly around yours. It had taken him five long years, and he certainly wasn’t going to let go anytime soon.
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I'm a sucker for soulmate aus
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ew-selfish-art · 1 year
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Dp x dc AU - If the Internation Space Station orbits the Earth 16 times a day, then so does the Watchtower.
Danny’s on track to move out of his parent’s house and move to Gotham for college (He swears that Sam bribed the board to let him in- and she wasn’t even going to that university!) but the dorms don’t open for another three days and he cannot wait to escape. Seeing his parents try to perfect yet another weapon to use against him while he changed out the ecto filters on the portal was too much. He’s completely over the idea of staying when he already has everything packed and ready to go.
The solution? Take all his boxes into his haunt in the Ghost Zone, leave them there and then spend some time in camping in space. He’s already explored the Infinite Realms enough to be bored of it for a minute (not to mention he wants to avoid getting more ‘favors’ to do from Clockwork) and hell, he just wants to see some stars.
He grabs his tent, a sleeping bag and all the food and things he could need and brings it into the atmosphere with him. Keeping it all tethered to him, Danny stays in a fixed position above Gotham (Cause that’s where he’s going next, duh) and treats himself to some quality Me-time.
Only problem is that several times a day he has to make himself intangible while he lets satellites and things pass through. Easy enough and honestly pretty interesting to observe as a wannabe engineering student.
He doesn’t know when exactly it happened the first time- but it turns out the Heroes of Earth all congregated in a satelite office building? It was bigger than the ISS! What the heck!?
Going intangible but not invisible, the JL spot Danny and are incredibly confused how an ‘Alien’ teen just happens to appear in their meeting rooms disappearing at the rate (slowly but surely) of the Watchtower moving through space. Was that camping gear? How was he roasting a marshmallow? Did propane camping stoves even work in space??
16 times a day they get the opportunity to ask Danny a few questions. He mostly ignores them or gives them joke answers. Eventually Martian Manhunter phases through the Watchtower to join him.
They talk about how hard transition periods in life can be and having strained relationships with family. J’ohn returns to the watchtower on its next cycle and reports that the kid is just fine, being an adult is just a hard thing to do.
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naeviskz · 7 months
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“ PRETTY , PLEASE ” ๑‧˚₊ ─── FLX
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synopsis ; you think your roommate is really pretty, but you think he’s even prettier when he whines and begs for you.
genre 숌 virgin!felix x fuckgirl!reader | roommates AU
words - 4.0k+ tags/warnings 숌 fluff, pwp, smut, (slight age difference: felix is 23/reader is 25), sub!felix/dom!reader, noona kink?, perv!lix, oral (m), solo masturbation, corruption kink, edging, dacryphilia, rlly cute & soft ending tho <3
☆ 彡
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Have you ever met someone so pure and innocent that you feel the need to shield them from any and all bad influences that might corrupt them?
Those were your exact thoughts when you first locked eyes with your new roommate Felix. You thought he was the most precious little bean ever ;( His shy, timid nature made you want to coddle him like a baby, and always spoke in such a polite, well-mannered tone due to you being his senior. At first Felix didn’t talk very much when he moved in and was constantly cooped up in his room doing god knows what, but eventually he’d warm up to you and the two of you soon became really good friends.
You don’t particularly like most men, you tend to get annoyed with them easily, only using them for a quick fuck because that’s all they’re good for. Personally, you didn’t care to start getting serious with anyone at the moment, prioritizing work and other future goals instead of boys who come and go. Felix was quite literally the only exception to this. You genuinely enjoyed his company and valued him as more than a friend, he was so easy to talk to and could make anyone in a room feel comfortable with his presence.
You loved how he never made a fuss about chores when you didn’t feel like doing them. He was never rude or brought strangers over, and he kept to himself most of the time— the perfect roommate ever. Felix was studying biology at school to become a veterinarian as he’s told you many times he loves animals before. You were already out of school by now, as you graduated 2 years ago but you didn’t mind living with someone a couple years younger. He’s very mature for being in his early twenties, even more than some of the 30+ year old “men” you’ve slept with in the past.
One thing you’ve noticed since he’s always keeping to himself, he takes his schooling very serious and constantly studies. He never drinks, smokes, or goes out to parties, but he doesn’t act better than anyone either, it’s just how he is. You’ve never seen someone so dedicated to their work, wondering in the back of your mind if he even knows what taking a break means. You’ve tried getting to invite him out to other social events but he would always say that studying was far more important, you seriously never seen someone be so obsessed with school. Before you graduated, you weren’t a straight A student by any means but you did care about your grades, overall you still managed to balance a social life within.
Felix was never the judgmental type, he didn’t care if you brought a lot of friends over or the occasional hook up you’d have, he would just turn a blind eye to most of those things. You didn’t think it’d ever impact the way you both interacted but unfortunately after a while things have started to get a bit awkward between you. He’s been awfully more quiet these days and whenever you two would walk by in passing he could barely even look at you. Any time he did, it was if he’d seen a ghost or something— the way his face went pale from being drained of all color and would immediately hurry back into his room.
You don’t know what’s up with him but the more he’s been treating you this way the more you feel like he doesn’t seem to like you very much anymore. This weekend you plan to have a quick chat with him about everything and to clear up some potential misunderstandings. Little do you know the real reason why he’s been keeping his distance from afar…
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God he feels like such a creep for eavesdropping on you having sex with someone else right now.
It wasn’t supposed to end up this way, he simply walked past your door without a second thought but as he came closer he heard what is presumably you moaning out another guy’s name. That’s when it piques his curiosity to listen further, he’s only heard this type of stuff from watching porn but it’s a whole different experience when in real life. He should feel more than embarrassed about doing this, ashamed for invading his roommates privacy in such a horrid way but he doesn’t move. Only continuing to press his ear up against the mahogany door, getting a clearer sound of your wanton moans, feeling something shift.. a familiar throbbing sensation causes the sudden constriction in his pants.
He’s far too gone to even think about stopping at this point, subconsciously dragging his hand further down as he comes in contact with his hardened cock. All he could hear was skin slapping, imagining you bent over the bed while taking it from behind, arching your back as you pant louder for them to go faster and faster. Felix continues to feel himself through the constraints of his clothing but it wasn’t enough for him, it wasn’t enough to alleviate the discomfort down there. So he ends up going back to his room to finish his little fap sesh, ridding himself of everything, t-shirt, sweats, boxers— ready to finish what he accidentally started.
“___, please..” he’d stir in his bed, going to town on his cock as he pumps his hand around it, thinking about you on top of him. “Noona.. m’so close…” he whimpers out desperately, feeling so overly sensitive that his body’s buzzing with pleasure.
Felix was so overwhelmed in his thoughts he barely noticed the precum leaking out and spilling around his small hand, his eyes were completely shut and zoned out in utter bliss. He wishes nothing more than to have you doing this to him instead, wondering what it’s like to have a girl as hot as you jerk his cock for him, he’s never experienced what it’s like but he’d want you to be his first if he ever does. It frustrates him that he can’t have you in the same way those other guys do, they’re more experienced and can please you better than he could.
One thing he knows now is that he’ll never be able to look at you normally again after doing all of this.
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Things just couldn’t get any worse for him at this point. He’s now found a pair of your underwear which has mistakenly ended up in his laundry somehow. He didn’t do know what to do … if he tells you it accidentally got mixed in with his stuff then you’ll probably accuse him of stealing them as an excuse. Plus he didn’t want to face the embarrassment of even handing these back to you. It was a really pretty pair too, a red lace thong with black trim and a cute satin bow on the front. He wonders how your ass would look in these panties, secretly getting so jealous of all your hook ups and how they’ve all got to see you naked.
Felix decides the best course of action is to quickly return them in your room before you finish showering. He’ll simply sneak into your room, put them back in your underwear drawer, and he won’t have to think about it again, this was going to be the easiest plan of execution. Boy could he have been any more wrong. He couldn’t find which drawer they were supposed to be in, essentially wasting more and more time trying to find where to stash them. He honestly could’ve hid them anywhere but he was paranoid about that seeming suspicious too. Then he just considers possibly keeping them for himself. Playing with the fabric in his hands as he thinks of the idea to jerk his cock with your underwear wrapped around it. If only you knew the things he wanted you to do to him..
“What’re you doing in my room Lixie?” You question your roommate’s intentions as you walk in from getting out in the shower. You catch him holding something in his hands but quickly stuffs the object away in his pockets.
Fuck he’s totally screwed. There’s no going back from this now.
“Uh- nothing! I was just about to leave actually-” just as he attempts to make a run for it, he turns around and comes face to face with you in just a bath towel.
He’s legitimately gone crazy now, stopping dead in his tracks to gawk at your beauty. You exude high levels of sex appeal without even trying, it’s almost intimidating being in the same room as you. Felix thought you look absolutely gorgeous in your natural state, noticing the fresh water droplets still glistening on your skin and wet strands of hair sticking to your face. He really wants to know what’s underneath that singular layer, sensing another uncomfortable situation down there.
“Don’t be silly Lix, you looked like you were looking for something. What’re you holding?” You continue asking but he refuses to give any solid answers, telling you over and over how it’s “nothing” and he wasn’t lying but something didn’t seem right about his behavior.
You saw he put something in his pocket from earlier, so without a second thought you reach into that same pocket to grab whatever was in there. Everything happened so fast Felix didn’t even have time to process what was going on, mortified when he sees you pulling out a pair of your underwear from his sweatpants.
“Why do you have these?” Your expression was stone cold, you genuinely looked pissed off and it was starting to frighten him. He didn’t think you’d actually be upset about this but now he wishes he had just hid it somewhere randomly.
“It’s not what it looks like ___, you’ve got the wrong idea!”
“No I definitely know what’s going on here. Didn’t ever really take you as the type to be such a perv,” you chuckle at his horrible attempt in making any excuses. Coming closer to him now, placing both palms on his shoulders, you get all the way up to his ear and whisper, “I like perverts though ‘cause I’m one too.”
His face burned a crimson shade, growing flustered at your sudden dirty confession. The only thing he could do was gulp out of nervousness, even more worried if you discover the massive hard on he’s sporting in his pants. A subtle smirk forms onto your lips, debating where you should kiss and mark first but you want to take your time with someone like Felix— he’s too pretty not to. You lightly brush your lips against his neck, as if he’s so fragile and delicate, making him tremble from the sudden cool air you blow against his skin.
Felix felt his heart beating out of his chest, internally panicking at what’s soon to come. It’s not like he didn’t want any of this to happen, he’s just worried out his mind and tends to overthink everything. Those anxious thoughts were soon adjourned with a pair of soft lips against his trembling ones, eyes bulging out from the sudden shock of your actions. He stood there awkwardly for a bit as he’s never kissed someone before, he doesn’t know how he should react but he mimics your movements. You deepen the kiss even further, gently caressing the side of his face into your palm— his body was so stiff it made you feel self conscious about you making the first move. He was kissing you back but it didn’t feel like there was any emotion behind it, everything he’s doing seems so robotic and manufactured. You’re starting to think he may not actually be enjoying this.
“Something wrong?” You cautiously pull away to voice concern, regretting everything if he’s uncomfortable by your advances.
He mentally curses himself, feeling more upset at you thinking you’re the problem. “N-no… you’re perfect. This is perfect, it’s just- I’ve never done it before..” His voice trails off towards the end, embarrassed by his lack of experience.
“You’ve never had sex before?” You blink in confusion, it was seemingly impossible for someone as attractive as Felix to have never had a single sexual encounter in his life. However, you’d be more than happy to change that.
“No.” He shook his head, frowning at his sad revelation that he’s a 23 year old virgin.
“Awee, s’cute. I get to be your first!” You couldn’t help but find that to be so adorable, you haven’t took someone’s virginity since freshman year of college, it excites you all over again.
He’s seemingly surprised by the way you respond, “You’re not put off by that?” Most girls in your position wouldn’t want to deal with someone like him. He needs to be trained, taught exactly how to please a woman the way she needs to— which you’re more than capable of doing.
“No, why would I be?” It’s not everyday you hear a guy as handsome as Felix say that they’re a virgin, it intrigues you in some capacity. You want him to become your cute little plaything, someone only you can corrupt exactly the way you want.
“So you’ve never pleasured another girl before? Like not even fingering?” You delve deeper with more questions, wanting to know everything he’s done or hasn’t.
He shook his head yet again, “no, I’ve never done anything.”
This was unlike anything you’ve seen before, at least the other guys you knew who were virgins had actually done a few other things but this was new for you. The fact he was able to confide in you with something so personal made you want to be his first so badly. Maybe this was perfect— you were way more experienced than him so you can show him the ropes, how it’s really done. You express to him that it’s okay he was inexperienced, it’s nothing to be ashamed of and he’s in good hands now.
“What if I don’t do it right?” Felix looks so worried, his adam’s apple bobbed each time he nervously swallowed.
“You won’t because I’m here,” you reassure him by placing an affectionate hand on his shoulder, flashing a warm smile. “I’ll show you how to, don’t be shy it’s fine baby. Just lye back on the bed and I’ll take care of you pretty.”
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He did everything he was told, all instructed by you. Lying down on the bed with his back against your pink silk pillow, the black tee he wore slightly rode up, causing you to get a glimpse of his tummy. It was too cute not to touch, your nimble fingers travel up his waist to raise his shirt higher, feeling up his lower body.
Felix felt so powerless as you hover over his frame, both your legs on either side of his, enclosing him in such a tight space. Taking slow, deep exhales, he grows more tense as you slide your hands north, it’s a whole new sensation he’s never felt before. His breath hitched at you suddenly coming in contact with his nipple, brushing over it ever so slightly to elicit a subtle reaction. You love how sensitive he’s become to any minor touch you provide, feeling your arousal leak further down to your thighs as you think of turning him into your personal slut.
“Should I take this off?” You suddenly propose an idea, referring to the bath towel that was hanging on you by a thread. It was seemingly already coming undone as you didn’t tie the front properly, he was able to get a good view of your chest peaking out at the top.
“Mhmm..” Felix hums in sexual frustration, unable to get a clear word or sentence out in any possible way.
You oblige, biting your lip seductively at him as you reach to untie the loose knot, slowly prying the towel off your body that’s now completely dry. “Let’s start off with something easy,” you carefully suggest, traveling your hands down to the band of his gray joggers, lightly tugging them down to reveal his boxer briefs.
The tiny, blond, freckled boy is staring up at you with his big bambi eyes, he can’t believe there’s a naked girl on top of him while he’s still partially fully clothed. All the blood surges to his cock, making him so painfully hard he’s never been so desperate for someone to touch him in his life. Hips bucking into nothing as he humps the air for any stimulation, you couldn’t prevent the giggle that escaped your mouth. Finding him to be so utterly pathetic.
You lean in to kiss him again, never quite getting enough of the yummy taste of him. Tracing your index finger over the outline of his bulge, you feel him pulse underneath as you keep teasing him with more light touches. He could feel you smiling into the kiss, biting down on his lower lip as your free hand gets tangled in his platinum locks. You eventually sprung his cock freely out the constraints of his briefs, watching it stick straight up from being so unbelievably hard. His cock was gorgeous, about 6 inches in length and 2.5” thick, his tip was an angry, ruby red but the rest a blush pink color. Your fingers laced around his shaft, getting closer to spit directly on it before giving him a few moderate pumps. Felix threw his head back slightly, gripping the bedsheets in utmost pleasure, whimpering loudly as he ruts his hips to match the movements of your hand. Unable to hold back from just how good you’re making him feel he calls your name out again and again. His deep voice only gets raspier, a beautifully stark contrast to his angelic face being stuck in euphoria. As your pace increases he only gets more vocal, panting heavily while begging to cum as his jaw slacks wide open. Flashes of white invade his vision, everything around him becomes to fade into a blur. That’s when it all gets abruptly ripped away from him, soon as your hand withdraws his cock he opens his eyes again. His lips quivered in devastation, feeling as though he could cry from this.
“W-why’d you stop?” He whines out of frustration, wanting so badly to cum all over your hand.
The sight of him made you so incredibly turned on. Obsessed with the mess you’ve created so far, his flushed, rosy cheeks with drool seeping down his chin, his precum has leaked out everywhere.
You don’t answer, only chuckling at his misery. It’s fun to play with him, see how far you can push him in getting to do whatever you want.
“Want me to suck your cock, hmm? Say pretty please and I’ll make you feel so good.” Never breaking eye contact as you say it, getting off on the fact you have all the control and he’s totally helpless in your hold.
Felix is reluctant to speak at first, but he chokes up the courage to stutter out a plea, “P-pretty please.. Noona please...” lifting his hips just to feel something— you aggressively force them back down with your hand.
A devilish smirk forms across your face, you didn’t know he was the type to call you that. You want to reward him even more but only if he can be good and does everything exactly your way.
“Don’t cum ‘til I say you can. Got it?” You flash a look that’s anything but merciful, getting a rush from this dominant role you happen to take on surprisingly well.
He nods obediently, understanding what the consequences may be if he doesn’t listen. He wants to try his best to please you in any way he can, it’s the least he can do when you’re the one doing most of the work.
Wrapping your lips around his tip, you feel him twitch instantly inside your mouth, opening just a bit to swirl your tongue along his member. His cock feels slightly sore from being edged once before, gasping when he feels the plushness of your lips on him. Sinking further down, you fully take his length in your mouth now, head bobbing up and down to get the entirety of his cock down your throat. Felix couldn’t move, think, let alone breathe properly— he’s so far gone that the only thing consuming his mind is you.
“Like getting your cock sucked baby?” You coo, bringing your hand to gently caress his balls, making him cry out even more.
He only frantically nods in response, too weak and too lost in the feeling to speak, “Mmm…” he mumbles, he’s so close but he can’t cum, he has to resist the urge but it’s so difficult. There’s no way he’s going to be able to keep this up for much longer.
“Use your words Lixie,” suddenly pulling away from his balls, “or else I’m going to stop again.”
He’s back to being whiny again, not wanting to be edged so cruelly like last time, he finally chokes out a reply, “Y-yes.. I love it.”
You really love the way he sounds, you could listen to him like this all day. Back to what you were doing previously, your mouth completely takes him in, lashes fluttering up at him while you’re doing the most unholy act there is. His brain goes fuzzy as he can’t get over how amazing this feels, broken moans escaping his throat from the warmth of your tongue enveloping his cock. Humming around him in response to his constant throbbing, Felix hisses from the vibrations throughout his body. He’s trembling with so many nerves hitting all once, it’s all so new to him; this might just be the most intense feeling he’s ever had.
“Nggh… gonna cum- can’t hold it anymore..” he meekly warns, tears roll down his face as it begins to be too much for him to bear.
You decide to let him this time, feeling a little sense of sympathy for a cutie pie like him. There’s always next time you can edge him and break him down until he babbles and cries even harder. Your core aches just thinking about all the fantasies you’ll bring to life soon, it’ll never be a boring day from now on.
“Go ahead baby, cum in my mouth,” you urge him to finish by going faster, sucking him off like your life depends on it.
He can feel the coil in his stomach tightening, pushing him to the edge as he’s thrashing around the bed, moaning and crying out all types of profanities. The last words he spoke before he came was pure gibberish, too busy focusing on his release shooting out— he lulls his head back into the pillow from exhaustion. He doesn’t think he’s ever came that hard in his entire life. His eyes rolled back as you greedily swallow his cum, still continuing to suck like he wasn’t mewling for you to stop. More of his load comes out as you keep going, milking every last drop of him until he’s all drained out and empty.
Finally letting go of his cock, you pull away as you make a loud ‘pop’ with your mouth, a thin string of saliva still connecting you to his crotch.
“You did so good for me Lixie,” you praise sweetly, coming up to kiss his pouty lips after you’d just sucked him dry. He kisses back immediately, getting a taste of his release on your tongue, “c’mere puppy,” you motion him to come along once you pull away.
He’s not sure what you have in mind but he follows anyway, blindly letting you boss him around at this point. Felix enjoys every second of it though, you may have unlocked something he never knew he needed.
Your hands run over his shoulders, “How ‘bout we run you a bath, yeah?” Your voice is as low and gentle as a whisper, sounding as though you didn’t just do those unspeakable things minutes ago. He’s more at ease you’ve turned into a sweeter, more compassionate version of yourself now, “I think my precious baby deserves it.”
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- 完 ︎♡︎
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rosesareredrosa · 2 months
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Just a Little Longer
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Theo Nott x fem reader
Summary: Theo doesn't want to y/n to leave bed for just a little longer
w/c: 829
The soft light of dawn filtered into the Slytherin dormitory, casting a warm glow over the stone walls and the still figures within. Theodore stirred, his dark hair tousled as he slowly opened his eyes. Beside him, you lay peacefully, your breaths steady and serene, wrapped in the warmth of his embrace.
Theo smiled, pulling you closer and burying his face in the crook of your neck. He loved these quiet moments with you, where the world outside didn’t matter. Gently, he brushed a stray lock of hair from your face, his touch light and careful, not wanting to wake you just yet.
You stirred, a sleepy smile spreading across your face as you snuggled closer to him. "Good morning," you murmured, your voice soft and husky from sleep.
"Good morning, mia cara," he replied, his voice a low rumble. He tightened his arms around you, not wanting to let you go. "Stay with me a little longer. We don’t have to get up yet."
You sighed contentedly, melting into his embrace. "But we have class," you mumbled, though your resolve was quickly weakening.
Theo nuzzled your neck, pressing soft kisses along your skin. "We can skip just this once," he whispered. "Let’s just stay here, together."
You hesitated, knowing the importance of attending your classes. "Theo, we really should go. We’ll get in trouble if we don’t."
He looked into your eyes, his expression pleading and sincere. "Please, cara mia? Just this once? I don’t want to let you go yet."
You sighed, your resolve wavering under his gaze. "We can't keep doing this, you know," you said, trying to sound stern, but the warmth of his embrace made it difficult to stay firm.
He smiled, sensing your weakening resolve. "I promise we won’t make it a habit. Just a little longer, I want to hold you."
You rolled your eyes playfully, but your heart was already melting. "Alright, just this once," you conceded, a soft giggle escaping your lips as you pulled the blankets up around you both.
Theodore grinned, his eyes lighting up with triumph. "Perfect." He settled back against the pillows, his arms wrapped securely around you. The two of you lay there, wrapped in each other’s warmth, the world outside forgotten for a while longer.
As the morning passed, you talked quietly, sharing dreams and whispered secrets. Theo’s fingers traced lazy patterns on your back, his touch sending shivers down your spine. The comfort of his presence made you feel safe, like nothing could touch you as long as you were together.
Eventually, the sound of students bustling in the corridors grew louder, signaling the start of the day. You sighed, knowing you couldn’t stay hidden away forever. "We should probably get up," you said reluctantly.
Theo shook his head, pulling you even closer. "Just a little longer," he pleaded, his eyes meeting yours with a soft, vulnerable look.
You smiled, your heart swelling with affection for the boy who held you so tightly. "Alright, a little longer," you conceded, snuggling back into his embrace.
The minutes ticked by, the world outside growing busier, but Theodore didn’t seem to notice. He kept whispering, "Just a little longer," each time you tried to move. His fingers gently traced patterns on your back, his touch sending pleasant shivers down your spine.
"We really should go now," you said, half-heartedly attempting to sit up.
"Please, bella, just a little bit longer," he murmured, his eyes soft and pleading.
You laughed softly, giving in once more. "Okay, but this is the last time."
Time seemed to stretch on in a blissful haze as you remained entwined in each other’s arms. The sounds of Hogwarts waking up and bustling about faded into the background. Theodore’s warmth and the rhythmic beat of his heart against your ear were all that mattered.
"We’re definitely going to be late," you said with a sigh, though you made no move to get up.
"I know," he replied, a mischievous grin on his lips. "But I don’t care. I just want to hold you."
You playfully swatted his chest. "You’re impossible, Theo."
"And you love it, mia cara," he said, his eyes twinkling.
You couldn’t help but smile, your heart full. "Yes, I do."
When the castle’s bells finally chimed, signaling the end of the morning classes, you reluctantly pulled away. "We should probably get something to eat," you said, your stomach growling in agreement.
Theodore sighed, a reluctant smile on his lips. "I suppose you’re right. But I’m not letting you out of my sight for long, tesoro."
You kissed his cheek, a promise of more stolen moments to come. "I wouldn’t have it any other way."
Hand in hand, you left the dormitory, the warmth of your morning together lingering in your hearts. As you stepped into the bustling halls of Hogwarts, you knew that no matter what the day brought, you had each other, and that was all that mattered.
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cntloup · 1 month
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house-husband!Nanami x fem!reader
fluffy fluff, teeny tiny allusion to sex
part 1 | part 2 | part 3
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Kento hates work. "work is shit!" he said. he ran away from his life as a sorcerer to become a salaryman so he could make enough money to retire and live in peace, far away from people.
he only quit working as a salaryman and chose to be a sorcerer again because he deemed it less idiotic, and of course less depressing after experiencing the misery of the mundane day-to-day life. and he'd have less amount of regret about wasting his time and his work not having any significant impact on anyone.
but life as a sorcerer is far from easy. experiencing failure after failure, losing his friends and students, failing to save the common people, it had taken a heavy toll on him and nearly made him an alcoholic which caused a surge of self-hatred and disgust inside him.
he felt undeserving of your love so he tried to distance himself from you and it absolutely broke your heart to see him like that until you swooped in and took his hand to pull him out of the swamp created by the anguish and torment of the life as a sorcerer. so after witnessing how worn out and stressed he had become due to his work, you sat him down to discuss the situation.
he was hesitant at first when you suggested it, not wanting to burden you any further, but you mentioned how much you love your job and you're in for a promotion soon due to being one of the top employees.
you truly wanted to take the heavy burden off his shoulders and offer some solace instead which you did anyway only by existing, but this newly bloomed idea was a step further towards the life he always dreamed of. so eventually after some more coaxing and persuasion, he came around to the idea.
so he went to Yaga and blurted out, "I quit." and exited the room with no further explanation much to the principal's dismay and shouts of disagreement, but he simply didn't care as he left Jujutsu High for good this time with a faint smile on his face.
it really is a dream come true. he's finally free. and of course he picks up baking considering his obsession with bread and if you share this obsession with him or if you have a sweet tooth, you're in for a treat. he tries a new recipe every day. he has a keen eye for different ingredients and he's a natural at it with how meticulous he is.
he always wakes up before you, taking a moment to admire your beauty illuminated by the morning sunlight. your eyes slowly flutter open, "good morning, sweetheart." he greets which is returned by a sweet kiss on his lips.
and of course sometimes this ends up with your bodies tangled together beneath the sheets as you both pant heavily while giggling, not caring if you'll be late for work.
then eventually after some whining and some more kissing, you detangle your bodies and finally leave the bed.
he makes you breakfast and helps you gather your stuff and get ready for work.
he packs your lunch and always leaves a lovely cute note on it.
he goes over the shopping list you had written the day before while you're gone and makes sure you have everything you need, replaces your used up beauty products if you use any.
also makes sure that every appliance in the house is in perfect shape and if anything needs fixing, he's on it before you even notice it. after all, he wouldn't want his lovely, hardworking wife be bothered by such things.
you never come home empty-handed, always bringing back something for him, flowers or a tie, or simply something that reminded you of him. you always make sure to mention how grateful you are to have him in your life and how much you appreciate him.
"these for me?" he asks with a soft smile which is rare and only you get to witness, "for you, my love." you reply placing another kiss on his lips and handing him the flowers.
once you're at the door exhausted out of your mind, he's there to greet you with a sweet kiss, take off your coat and pick you up, carrying you to the bathroom and gently placing your weary body inside the tub which he has prepared for you.
he sits by the tub and feeds you the delicious meal he has made if you're too tired to do it yourself, and then comes the sweet treat he's made that day which always makes you moan at the first bite, "you're so good at this! fuck!" you say, making him chuckle.
he joins you in the tub after your whiny, yet cute voice calls out to him and you rest between his legs, your back pressed against his firm chest as he holds you in his strong arms and places gentle, languid kisses on your neck and shoulders.
the water temperature is perfect, not too hot, not too cold. and the aroma of your favorite oils and bathsalts takes over your senses as you take a deep breath out of finally being able to relax.
his big, slightly rough hands travel across your midsection, dancing on your skin, his loving touch eliciting soft moans out of your parted lips as your body melts further into his embrace.
he's truly meant to be a househusband😩😭
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blkkizzat · 1 year
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ღ 𝐆𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐭𝐟𝐚𝐜𝐞!𝐂𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐨 ღ
𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟏 𝐨𝐟 𝟐
18+ONLY MDNI
kizzatober series: Smooth Criminals
Kinktober Prompts: Clothed Male/Naked Female, Thigh Riding, Knife Play Synopsis: The university campus is being terrorized by a copycat Ghostface killer. As a popular sorority girl with a dumb jock bf, you are a prime choice to be his next victim especially given how he can't stop thinking about you. But you're no ordinary Sorority Girl bimbo, now are you? CW: AU college fic. blood obsession/hematolagnia, bimbo reader, murder, slight DV (from your npc jerk ass bf), unprotected sex, masturbation, slight age gap (roughly 21 vs 28) and dark content. NOTE: If death/killer romanticization related shit triggers you this is probably a fic to avoid because that is happening all through this bitch. I literally wrote a murder fluff smut fic lmfao. WC: 6.5k of 15.4k Lightly black fem coded (reader is an AKA lmfao) but no descriptors.
A/N: This is my first kinktober fic! I'm sorry this took so long y'all but last week been low key hell and I was sick for a lot of it. Also I did struggle with this a bit since this one I decided to do as an whole fic instead of PWP and now its gotten to be so long its definitely going to be in two parts. Sorry there's no smut in the first part, but there is some fluff and some juicy build up. I've never written for Choso before but he's so baby girl omg I'm obsessed with him now but still I'm a bit nervous posting this. sorry if its dog.
Enjoy!
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“Ever felt a knife rip through human flesh and scrape the bone beneath?”
Those were the last words a nameless student heard before Ghostface's hunting knife shined menacingly in the air and came down to claim its newest victim.
Shluk! Shluk! Shluk!
Metal slashed through flesh with razor precision.
Gurgled death cries are silenced as the lifeless body collapses to the ground. 
A thick pool of blood began gathering around them to fan out and travel around their body down the slanted titled floor to drain. 
Choso breathed in deeply. 
A wave of calm washed over him. 
Peace. 
Almost in an enlightened state, he felt the most serene after a kill. 
It was beautiful. 
Blood was beautiful.
The surging stream of blood that would eventually slow to a trickle, the abstract designs of its splatter and the way it swirled around the body splayed across the ground like paint on a canvas.
Like a painting. 
A death painting… and the knife, his paintbrush. 
This was his art.
Choso can recall the first time he actually saw blood beyond a minor scrape. 
He couldn’t have been more than 6 years old. No doubt trying to impress his younger brother Yuji by balancing on top of the monkey bars. After all this time Choso isn’t certain as to how, but he lost his footing and fell flat on his face onto the unforgiving concrete below.
Screams of children filled the area once Choso pushed himself up onto his feet. He immediately felt wetness rush down his face. However, rather than cry or panic a young Choso cocked his head curiously when he noticed his reflection on the metal jungle gym. A warped view of his face mirrored back at him but he could still make out the bright red fluid cascading down his features staining him in red. 
Choso didn’t know how long he stood transfixed, mesmerized by the sight of rouge river that flowed from him until Yuji ran back crying with their parents in tow. 
It was how he had the scar across the bridge of his nose till this day, which became unsightly enough he had decided to get a black bar tattooed over it as soon as he turned 18. 
From then on he couldn’t deny his growing obsession with blood and seeing it leave the human body. All of which had led him here to this university to attain a PHD in Forensics. 
He picked this university, not only for their program but it was the perfect small town playground for Ghostface, a local urban legend from years ago he decided to revive once he felt as he had attained enough knowledge not to get caught.  
Choso was meticulous in his process. 
Ironclad alibis, no distinctive patterns and no victims with any connections to each other, nor him. Additionally, he had memorized all the angles of the university’s security system (thanks to a security guard he had bribed then promptly killed). 
His victims' lives were just his means to an end for his art and most students on this campus wouldn’t amount to much anyway outside of that was how he justified it. Choso did like toying with them on occasion though, fear made the blood pump faster and spray harder once he finally did catch them. 
Sadly, he could never admire his creations for too long though before needing to make his own exit. 
Almost midnight. 
Ten more minutes before campus security makes another round.
He took one last glance at the scene of carnage he had created before disappearing into the night. 
In just a mere 2 hours, the news of another Ghostface murder spread across campus. 
The university’s students were either scared, scattering back to barricade themselves in their dorms. Or curious, lingering around the crime scene near the safety of the news crews and reporters who had gathered to see who the unlucky victim was this time.
No one however, is likely more curious than you: A third year forensics undergrad, who was just itching to get a real glimpse of your first real crime scene, a Ghostface copycat killer crime scene at that! 
You had even left a huge frat party (to be fair it was about to get broken up soon anyway) to trek across campus in the bitter cold of late fall. 
“Y/N, let’s go back–,” one of your pledges whined, “–it’s cold and my feet hurt in these heels!”
“Shh, Stassi, shut up! What if this is an initiation test?” another pledge whispered. 
Your sorority pledges chatter on behind you and you almost forgot you brought them along. It’s not like you wanted to but, like it or not, they were attached to you at the hip like little ducklings until rush was over.
With a clap you turn on your heel to address them.
“Ladies–” 
However you abruptly stop once you see your Forensics TA, Choso Kamo, taking what appeared to be a night jog across the campus quad. 
Was he going to the crime scene too? Your face instantly lights up and your pledges look around confused.
“Wait here girlies! I’ll be 5 minutes max…. No, I mean it. Wait right here!”    
Your pledges huff quietly, but agree. 
They had no choice really as you were already skipping as fast as your not-so-sober legs would carry you in 5-inch pumps over the quad lawn. Truthfully, that was not something they were trying to do too, especially not to chase down what looked like some creepy emo nerd.
“Choso!”
You call out to him and wave, but he doesn’t look like he sees you as you hurry towards him.
“Hey Choooo! Wait up!”  You puffed out, trying to maneuver over the grass in your heels. 
Choso sighed recognizing your voice, reluctantly slowing his pace. He would have kept on jogging but he knew you would keep calling out to him and draw even more attention that he really didn’t need right now.
Finally catching up to him, you grab Choso’s arm and loop yours through. He flinched slightly at your touch but you knew he always seemed a bit jumpy when it came to physical contact, so this didn’t phase you. 
If anything you thought his reactions were kinda cute.
“Where are you going weirdo? All the action is back that way!” You teased with a big grin and pointed in the direction of the crime scene.
Choso tries to ignore how his adrenaline was pumping even faster from you holding on to him than when he was running, especially dressed as you were. 
You looked sexy as hell utterly ridiculous.
You were decked out in a sailor costume, which was pretty much just a poor excuse for lingerie at this point. Your white sailor flap collar attached to nothing more than a sparkly navy bra with shiney white and red trims, leaving your midsection exposed showing your cute little belly ring in the shape of an anchor. 
This was complemented by a dangerously short yet matching sparkling navy pleated skirt which sat low on your thick hips. Your shapely legs were the most covered part of your body yet still looked overwhelmingly tempting in red glittery garters, attached to white opaque stockings in glittery red heels.
“I’m the weirdo… but you’re dressed like that in 40 degree weather.” Choso retorted, brow raised.
“Duh Choso–” 
You released his arm to give him a twirl in your outfit, not noticing the way he nervously wet his lips watching your skirt rise with your little spin.
“–The ‘Get Nauti’ party was tonight silly, where have you been!?”
Oh you know, just casually killing someone. Choso resisted the urge to roll his eyes. 
Of course he knew about the party. 
The campus had been littered with fliers for ‘Get Nauti’ for the past two weeks. Nothing Choso would ever be interested in as he would rather stab himself in the face than attend a mind-numbing party with a bunch of bro-for-brain frat guys. 
However, he did take advantage of the opportunity to create another death painting as Ghostface with the rest of campus preoccupied. 
He couldn’t tell you that though obviously.
“Gym,” Choso said flatly and shrugged, “Heading back to the dorms n-”
“–You mean you aren't going to the Social Sciences building!? Don’t you remember?!” You cut him off in your excitement. 
“The police said they would let us forensic students look at the next crime scene!”
Your face had a warm glow and your movements slightly swayed. You were clearly drunk.
“No Y/N, they said they might let the PhD students, like me, look at the crime scene… and that was only a slim ‘maybe’. You’re still just an undergrad”, he reminded you, much to your dismay as you puffed your cheeks.
But seriously, Choso thought, even the incompetent local police would have enough sense not to let you on the crime scene dressed as you are now, even if you were a PhD student. 
“Awe no fair,” you whine dejectedly. “But you should go, Cho! Then you can tell me all about it! Pleaseeee, I’m dying to know what a Ghostface crime scene looks like. I hear it’s kinda gruesome!”
You gazed up at Choso through fluttering long lashes as you poked out your cherry glossed lips. It was a pout that could famously leave any frat boy at your mercy, but it never seemed to stir Choso much (that you could tell at least).
Choso swallowed. 
On the contrary, your charms worked rather well on him. His mouth was dry and he unconsciously clenched and unclenched a sweat ridden palm behind his back. 
The hell were you doing being this excited over a crime scene? One of his crime scenes for that matter? 
Choso really didn’t know what to make of that.
“Y/N it’s late. I still have papers to grade. I’m going back to my dorm now and you should get home too,” Choso said flatly, trying to keep his cool although fatigue was etched into his voice.
He was in peak physical form but still feeling the strain given he just chased his last victim all over the Social Sciences building. Not to mention still having assignments to grade. All which would be fine if he also wasn’t on edge from you right now as well.
“Booooo…Choso yo– ahchoo!” You sneezed from the cold. 
The effects of alcohol could only do so much to keep you warm in these low temperatures while you were standing still. 
With another sigh Choso unzipped his black track jacket, taking it off and putting it around your shoulders. 
He was doing so as much for your sake as his own. Choso couldn’t help but notice your boobs looking like they were going to pop out of your flimsy sailor bra at any moment when you folded your arms underneath them for warmth.
He was really doing his best to maintain eye contact with you.
“Awe thanks Cho, you’re so chivalrous!” You giggled, blushing as you snuggled into his jacket. 
You could still feel his body heat lingering on the material but the heady scent of oak and sandwood from his cologne warmed you even more.
You also couldn’t help but stare as the black compression turtleneck he wore underneath clung to his body like a second skin. You had suspicions he was fit but you never saw him wear anything beyond his dark colored button ups and shaggy sweaters when in class. 
“Now go home, Y/N. You shouldn’t even be out here alone this late.” 
Choso’s stern voice snapped you out of your ogling.
“But I’m not alone silly!” 
You pointed to the group of scared and shivering freshmen girls also in various states of sparkly undress all for the sake of ‘getting nauti’ standing on a paved path not too far off. 
They looked absolutely miserable. 
“I have my pledges!” 
Choso gave you an incredulous look. You were too clueless. 
“So let me get this straight… You are drunk. You have drunk freshmen with you, who shouldn’t even be drinking in the first place…and you plan on taking them to a murder scene? Where the cops are?” You made an “OH” face and absentmindedly laughed as you came to the realization it probably wasn’t the best look for Chapter VP of the AKAs to take a bunch of drunk and terrified freshmen pledges straight into a recent crime scene. Even if you could put an academic spin on it as it was relevant to your major classes.
Yikes, and on second thought, your house mom would flip her entire shit if she found out.
“Go home Y/N,” Choso said again, shaking his head.
“Besides, you should be more focused on the Chemistry lab midterm on Monday. You know you can’t afford to fail.”
You sulked but relented, he was right. On both accounts.
As your T.A. for that class Choso knew better than anyone just how much your grade depended on passing that lab and you hadn’t even so much as glanced at your notes yet this week.
“Aye Aye, Capitan Choso, sir!” you teased giving him a salute with a wink and lifted knee, your sailor skirt lifting a bit higher.
It was a cute move, or it would have been at least if it hadn't caused your weight to shift all on to one foot. The heel of the sparkly red glitter pump baring your weight sunk into the patch of soft soil beneath you causing your foot to pop out of the shoe as you tumble forward. 
You would have definitely ate shit and embarrassed yourself in front of Choso, your pledges and whoever else was walking across the quad at this time of night if Choso’s quick reflexes didn’t catch you. 
You let out a squeak and waved your arms as you fell tits first onto Choso’s hard chest. 
Shit. 
Choso could feel your hardened nipples pressing against him through the flimsyass costume you wore. He tried hard to focus on how cold it was outside. Anything rather than how warm your body felt up against him or how his biceps tensed from the tight grip of your delicate fingers that sought stability from him.
You grinned sheepishly. You thanked him for catching you not realizing the position you were in nor the torment you were putting this man through.
Setting you upright quickly, Choso crouched down to retrieve your shoe. 
His plan was to simply place it near your foot but he felt your hand land on his shoulder and you raised your dainty foot up expectantly.
Any attempts to avert his gaze proved futile as Choso couldn’t stop his eyes from traveling up the length of your leg. 
Your opaque white stockings practically glowed in the darkness illuminating the shapely calves it covered and thick thighs the tight material cut into. Your hips strained against your garters up until your –he caught himself and his eyes snapped up immediately.
He was a killer, not a perv at least he was trying not to be.
Gingerly making sure to only touch your ankle, you were giggling again as he put your shoe on your foot and placed it on the grass again.
“Thanks Choso! You really are a lifesaver, ya know! I can’t bend down in this skirt.”
“Don’t mention it.” Choso quickly replied, pushing his bangs out of his face in exasperation. 
Really don’t. 
Choso was trying to forget the flash of red lace he saw that barely covered your plump pu– No he had to stop, you were technically his student even if he was just a T.A.
He would surely have to kill you if he popped a boner right now. He was trying to keep a low profile already and did not need to add ‘sexual deviant' to his name from a student harassment claim.
“For real now, go home Y/N.” Choso silently pleaded you would just listen this time. 
He always felt more compulsive right after a kill and didn’t know what he would do if you stayed around him like this much longer.
You finally relented to his relief, nodding and mumbling a sad little goodnight pulling his jacket around your shoulders tighter as you turned to leave back to your pledges. 
Choso started to leave as well but your voice stopped him as you looked at him over your shoulder.
“You know Choso…” You smoothed your skirt down behind you and flashed him a pageant winning smile, “I don’t mind that you saw them.”
Before Choso’s short-circuiting brain could even process what you said you were bouncing off back to your pledges. “Okay ladies, now make like Bey and get in formation! Back to the Soro house!” 
Your pledges erupted with various replies from– 
‘Thank God!’’ 
‘Did you just go over there to steal that nerd’s jacket? Boss!’’
‘Was that your boyfriend, Y/N?’
‘Y/N’s bf is a starter on the football team, she doesn’t want that weird emo dork.’
‘No, sis did you see his muscles– That emo look is still kinda hot right now, huh Y/N?’ 
‘Awe, but I want to go back to the frat!’ 
–all fluttered from the group of chattering girls as you cheerily led them back to the Sorority house. 
You laughed at their comments hoping Choso couldn’t hear them though, as they were a bit embarrassing. 
Unfortunately for the both of you, there was no way for Choso not to hear your rowdy group of drunk giggling girls, he’s sure the whole quad did. 
Choso rolled his eyes as a chill took over him as he started the jog back to his dorms. 
He was glad he had given you his jacket though. The way his body had started to respond to you just now the frigid jog back to the dorms would do him good. 
He just wanted to shower, grade a few papers then go to bed, he didn’t want to end up fisting his cock to you again tonight. 
You had plagued his peace for too long. It wouldn’t do him any good to think of you, it’s not like he could ever have you. 
Sure you went to the same university but you might as well have been from two different worlds. 
You were a popular sorority undergrad with the attention of virtually the entire male population on campus. 
Choso was a PhD student who was used to fading in the background, most avoided him due his looks and academic focus anyway. 
He only had an affiliation with you because his scholarships were tied to being a T.A. for undergrad forensics classes. 
Also you did have a boyfriend. 
An asshole neanderthal football-wide-receiver boyfriend who he would have been tempted to kill already had he not served his own purpose as a reality check and barrier for Choso.
Oh and had an eccentric obsession with blood going for him and was also the Ghostface copycat killer, that too. 
He was sure that would go over well with you, Choso mused sarcastically.
Upon returning to his dorm Choso took a shower, graded papers and tried to fall asleep but inevitably jerked his cock off to you.
Twice. 
The sounds and images of your ditzy little laugh and skippy little panties consumed him as soon as he closed his eyes. The phantom feeling of the way your nipples felt pressed against his chest and how you clung to him desperately had him feeling near insatiable. 
Choso admittedly thinks of killing you often. Just to get some peace of mind.
It wouldn’t be difficult at all to pull off. It’s not like you could put up much of a fight against him.
He didn’t want to break his rule of killing anyone with a connection to him but Choso had also never had anyone stir him the way you did. 
You were a distraction and liability to him. If he killed you he could finally stop thinking about you…right?
You would make a beautiful death painting too.
Choso imagines thick red blood splattered across your curves. 
The fatal gash from the femoral artery in your thigh oozing out a continuous stream of blood. The cut would have to be considerably deep too considering how meaty your thighs were. 
Would the blood streak down your long leg as you desperately tried to hobble away from him in your slutty red heels?
Or would you collapse in fear and surrender to him fully? Landing in such a way that allowed the blood to redirect backwards and soil the flimsy red panties poorly concealing the fat of your cunt as you cried out in fear.
Fuck. 
He was hard again. 
He reached over to his night stand for his lotion bottle– practically empty thanks to his nonstop fantasies of you.
God, he was pathetic.
The school week that followed was relatively uneventful. 
You passed your lab midterms much to Choso’s surprise. Although you always seemed to pass with a relatively decent grade despite how you struggled to get there. Holding firm to your B average in the class and 3.3 GPA in your major overall.
He had to admit you were a better student than he originally gave you credit for. It makes him recall when he first saw you last spring. 
You were a late enroll to Forensic Biology 101. Not only that, you burst into the third class of the semester nearly 15 minutes late.
Oblivious to all the eyes your disruption earned, you leaned on your knees as your chest heaved from exertion giving the entire class an amazing view of your tits spilling from your pink crop top adorned with the prestigious “AKA” sorority. 
You definitely would have given the class an additional show from bending over in your tight green jean skirt had your ass not been facing the door. Choso eyes couldn't help but travel down the length of your legs, your glossy white painted toes peeking out strappy pink pumps. 
You smiled brightly once you caught your breath and apologized for your late entrance but you were newly voted chapter vice president and had just come from your first meeting. 
Surely you had the wrong classroom.
“Er– this class is Forensic Biology 101 young lady.” The older male professor had given you a once over also thinking you must be lost.
“Mhm, yup! I’m Y/N! I just changed my major!” you beamed and handed the professor your schedule.
He looked at it and back at you twice.
“Hm, well so it is…but you are already behind, little lady. Go and take a seat next to the T.A. in the back, Choso Kamo, he will catch you up.”
Just his luck. Choso didn’t want to babysit some sorority bimbo who would probably drop this class in two weeks once the labs started. 
Your university was famous for the forensics program. If you graduated you were all but guaranteed a job at a prominent lab in a major city but more than two thirds of undergrad students dropped it once the rigorous labs began. 
You didn’t look like you would last.
Especially when you told him your interest in forensics came from watching Dexter. You told him how you thought the actor was hott and how his kill rooms were ‘so cool.’ Choso definitely rolled his eyes at that and wrote you off as a soon-to-be drop out.
You proved him wrong though. 
You were a bit of a ditz and a huge clutz but Choso came to understand t's more because you had about a billion different things going on in your head at once rather than you just being dumb or careless. 
You were also a hard worker. 
It was admirable how many activities you were involved in yet still tried as hard as you did in your classes. You always came to his T.A. review sessions and even sought him out at times while he was in the research library to ask him questions. 
You were a good student and he was a horrible T.A. for even thinking of you in this way. 
The campus bell tower struck noon in the distance and Choso looked down to see that he had only read a single paragraph since he sat down to study thirty minutes ago.
Fuck, he had lost himself in thinking about you again. 
Choso put a hand over his face. 
He was sitting alone at a picnic table on the outer, less populated edges of the quad trying to read a textbook but every time he heard a high pitched giggle he snapped his head up thinking it was you.
Class schedules were a bit different due to midterms and he hadn’t seen you the entire week other than to administer the lab but that didn’t mean you didn’t still plague his thoughts more increasingly as of late.
It was making Choso a bit reckless. 
Needing to relieve stress he had created 2 more death paintings. A mistake as it was rumored the local police would soon reach out to bigger towns for more help and perhaps even the FBI would send an agent soon to campus if this kept up. 
He had to move more carefully. 
Maybe make it look like there were multiple Ghostface killers for starters.
“3 Victims, One Week: The Copycat Ghostface Reign of Terror Continues!” 
You read aloud adding a bit of dramatic flair to your voice as you recite the front headline of the campus paper and jar Choso from his thoughts of you. 
Speak of the devil.
You approached Choso at his table and he immediately noticed you were wearing his jacket again, well more like swimming in it as it was clearly too big for you.
This time though you were bundled up in a scarf, leggings and heeled booties. He was glad his face was already a bit red from sitting out in the cold because he couldn’t stop the intrusive thoughts from forming that you looked even sexier cozied up and comfortable in his jacket than in the slutty sailor costume.
“I don’t know why you even bother reading that shit Y/N. They never have any interesting details anyway.” Choso tried to feign disinterest in your arrival but his leg was already slightly bouncing under the table, nervous energy returning.
“Well I have to! You wouldn’t go to the crime scene for me last Saturday, remember?”
How could he forget?  
However a part of him did want you to view it though, his masterpieces, his kills. 
See how glorious their blood looked sprayed on the walls, the ground, and the general surroundings of his victims. 
But he knew you’d never appreciate them the way he did even if you were a forensics student.
“Oh and sorry!” 
You interrupted his thoughts once again.
“I meant to give you back your jacket, I’ve been carrying it with me hoping I’d run into you but I ran out today and forgot mine…whoops! I hope you don’t mind me wearing yours a bit longer?”
Your saccharine smile has Choso sucking in a hard breath. 
At this point he would prefer you to just keep it, he couldn’t trust himself if he had it back with your scent all over it knowing you had been carrying it around all week.
He would never know any peace.
“Keep it as long as you need.”
“Kay!”
You smile at him as you haphazardly plop your overstuffed tote bag down next to him, which of course spilled all its colorful contents all over the table. 
“Oh Crap!” 
You lean over to reach for your bag but almost spill the tray of hot coffees in your hand.
“Y/N, Watch out!” 
Choso grabbed the tray before it could spill all over his and your belongings and sat it down on the table with a small exhale.
“Oh! Thank you!” You flash him a big grin. “I got this one for you!” 
You handed him a grande cup with ‘pumpkin spice dirty chai’ scribbled on it.
Choso preferred his coffee black and he has definitely told you that before but you always just brought him whatever sugary drink you ordered saying he needed to ‘try new things’. 
He wasn’t about to turn you down though, caffeine was caffeine and as a PhD student he needed all he could get. Choso also knew it was your way of thanking him for helping you so much in forensics.  
“Thanks...” Choso mumbled taking a sip. Shit this is actually good.
You sat down next to him, a little too close for comfort with your spandex clad thigh brushing up against his leg.
“Whatcha reading? Is it for your thesis?” You were perilously close leaning on him as you looked over his broad shoulder onto his textbook.
“Yeah, some forensics texts I need to review for citations. This section focuses on serology and bloodstain pattern analysis,” Choso stated knowledgably. 
“Oh! Like in Dexter!” 
“Yeah, Y/N, like in Dexter.” 
Maybe Choso is growing a bit soft as he can’t resist but to crack a small smile at your kid-like-enthusiasm for the subject, you were incorrigible. 
Choso also doesn’t miss the way your eyes sparkle when you ask him to tell you more about his research. 
And so he does.
Sometimes Choso forgets how easy you are to talk on the subject. To be frank no one outside his own PHD program ever asks him about his thesis so before he realizes it he’s letting his guard down to indulge you.
You both get so lost in the conversation to the point it hasn’t even phased Choso yet that you are now actually leaning on him. 
Your soft cheek rests near his shoulder and your body angles deeper into his as you point to ask him about a passage on the page which he begins to break down.  
You try to focus on his words but in the midst of Choso’s explanation your eyes stray from the text up to his face. 
You feel your body start to warm.You always thought he was attractive. His dark looks never deterred you if anything they were refreshing from the crew cut preppy jocks around you. Even more so with his piercings in.
Choso never wore any of his piercings during classes or while in the research library. You counted six facial piercings in total from the three on his brows to the septum, labret and finally the black bar piercing through his tongue that darted out exposed with the movements of his mouth. 
Studying him further you discover for the first time his tattoo across the bridge of his nose was actually covering a scar. It looked old but like it had been deep. 
You couldn’t help but wonder if it had hurt him and why he chose to cover it. 
You didn’t even realize you had reached out to touch it until you felt his gaze snap to you. 
Stunned and a bit embarrassed, you withdraw your hand.
“Ah, sorry I just noticed your tattoo was covering a scar…” you trailed off hoping he wouldn’t be annoyed with you.
Annoyance was the last thing on Choso’s mind as finally registered how you had melded yourself into his side body. 
Although his usual reaction would be to withdraw back, you might as well have him chained down to the table now as he was practically immobilized by you not even being able to look away. 
“Uh, yeah it happened years ago when I was a kid...I fell off the monkey bars, there was a lot of blood.” 
No one had even recognized it since Choso had it covered years ago. You were the first.
“Oh no! I loved the monkey bars, we used to climb up on them all the time when I was little. I guess those things are kinda dangerous huh? Actually, I’m kinda shocked I never fell, a miracle right?” 
You laughed and Choso found himself smiling at you again. 
You were too accident prone so it really was a miracle. 
“Yeah, good thing you never fell Y/N… It would be a shame to have to get a big ugly tattoo on that cute face.” 
Choso swore on his life those last words only were said in his head but from the way your eyes widened he knew he fucked up.
“I- that is.. I meant-”
Choso smacked a hand over his face. He can’t believe he just said that out loud to you. He was really losing it. 
“So you think I’m cute?” you teased giggling. You angled your head so you could look up at him from underneath his hand.
“Yeah, about as cute as the blood splatter diagram on this page.” he teased you back. A small smirk on his features as he peeked at you through his fingers.
“Hey!” 
Choso chuckled. Little did you know he actually paid you a huge compliment comparing you to something he thought so alluring as blood.
You grab the hand covering his face as your smile widens and you playfully struggle with Choso. 
You don’t become aware of your close proximity until you almost bump noses.
Choso locks eyes with you and you feel your tummy tighten as you bite your lip. 
You’re still holding his hand and after a while you work up the courage as your other hand comes up to touch his face. 
“Your tattoo isn’t ugly Choso,” you breathe out softly.
Choso closes his eyes as you trace the scar beneath his tattoo. 
You weren’t sure what you were doing but your hand involuntarily begins to travel across his face and his piercings until they graze over his lips and he opens his eyes again.  
Startled by the sudden hungry look in his eyes you pull back your hand but he captures it in his own, him being the one to trap you this time.
If either one of you just moved even an inch forward your lips would touch. You see Choso’s lips part when–
“Yo! Hands off my girl, freakshow!” 
“Dean!?” You pulled back out of Choso’s embrace, floored to see your boyfriend and some more of his football buddies heading towards you as you knew they still should have been at practice around this time.
“Oooh he’s in for it now messin’ with Dean’s girl.” Dean’s football friends snickered.
Choso audibly breathes out in exasperation. The moment was ruined and he really didn’t have the patience to deal with your neanderthal boyfriend and his football lackeys who all shared a singular brain cell. 
Didn’t they have a ball or something to chase?
“Uh hey, Dean I..” 
You stop yourself when it’s clear Dean is ignoring you entirely as he approaches the table. Not even looking your way to greet you. 
His aura oozes faux tough guy bully and walks straight up to Choso to size him up leaning on the table to tower over him.
“I’m talking to you, freak. You think you can put your hands on what belongs to me?”
Choso doesn’t look up at him but his grip instinctively tightens on the pen in his hand under the table as if it was Ghostface’s hunting knife. 
Dean’s show of bravado going ignored by Choso pisses him off even more that his teammates are with him and the tough guy act is failing to have any real effect. 
Tch. 
With a swift movement Dean knocks Choso’s coffee over on the table, its half drunken contents falling on both you, Choso and his books. 
This has Choso rising out of his seat as he thinks your boyfriend must have an unknown death wish.
Choso’s pen is still in his grasp but by his side now. It would be too easy to drive it into Dean’s neck before the dolt even knew what hit him. A bit extreme, but it could be considered an unfortunate accident of self defense if Dean struck first.
Fortunately, you stepped in between the two in order to diffuse the situation without picking up on Choso’s murderous intent. 
You chewed your lip. This was low key, your fault. You technically were dating Dean. Although Dean was always the furthest thing from your mind when you were around Choso. 
You didn’t even feel guilty for being caught as you’ve had your own suspicions for a while Dean had been cheating on you anyway, you just couldn’t prove it. You were still dating him more out of convenience than anything else, other jocks and frat boys left you alone knowing you were with him.
The only guilt you actually did feel was for Choso. This wasn’t his problem or relationship but of course Dean was a big enough asshole to make this into an actual issue with Choso since it was becoming clearer how little respect he had for you.
“Dean, what the hell is your problem!? You got coffee everywhere, this isn’t even my jacket.” 
“Don’t what the hell me Y/N, you're so fucking dumb you’re going to let this freak get in your pants when– wait you’re wearing fucking his jacket!?” 
Dean was yelling now and a small crowd was forming and starting to take out their phones to record. 
You could not let this turn into an incident.
“Dean chill the entire fuck out, would you?! It was cold, so he let me borrow it– He’s just my T.A.”
A wave of harsh realization washed over Choso. 
Just her T.A.
Right.
Choso is no one important to you, especially with your football boyfriend and social standing on the line.
He’d let whatever the fuck almost happened between the two you just now make him forget that. 
Not anymore.
“That’s right. I’m just her T.A. So if you’ll excuse me.” 
Choso turned from you both to salvage what he could of his books and leave.
You couldn’t place the emotions in Choso’s words and it made your chest tighten up. But you weren’t trying to write him or your almost-kiss off. 
You didn’t mean for it to come out that way but you really lacked the proper words in these kinds of situations.
“Where do you think you’re going, loser?”
Dean grabbed Choso’s shoulder but the intense murderous look in his eyes made Dean release him just as quickly as if he had been burned. 
Even his football goon friends unconsciously took a few steps back feeling the very real threat in Choso’s eyes. 
Choso smirked as he left. Thought so. 
“W-wait Cho–”  
You want to stop him but feel Dean’s rough grip on your wrists.
“Whatever, let’s fucking go Y/N. We have an important party to throw later.” 
Dean grabs your wrist and jerks you away with you barely being able to grab your bag. 
Your stomach twists and you are at a complete loss for words but manage to flash an apologetic look at Choso while you are dragged off. 
However when your eyes meet he looks right through you.
The expression on his face is stone cold and it sends a chill up your spine.
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© ʙʟᴋᴋɪᴢᴢᴀᴛ 2023. ᴀʟʟ ʀɪɢʜᴛꜱ ʀᴇꜱᴇʀᴠᴇᴅ. ᴘʟᴇᴀꜱᴇ ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ꜱᴛᴇᴀʟ, ᴛʀᴀɴꜱʟᴀᴛᴇ, ᴄᴏᴘʏ ᴏʀ ᴄʜᴀɴɢᴇ ᴀɴʏ ᴏꜰ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋꜱ. ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪɴᴄʟᴜᴅᴇꜱ ꜰɪᴄꜱ, ᴅʀᴀʙʙʟᴇꜱ, & ɢʀᴀᴘʜɪᴄꜱ. ᴛʜᴇʏ ᴀʀᴇ ᴀʟʟ ᴍᴀᴅᴇ ʙʏ ᴍᴇ ᴜɴʟᴇꜱꜱ ᴏᴛʜᴇʀᴡɪꜱᴇ ꜱᴛᴀᴛᴇᴅ. ᴛʜᴀɴᴋ ʏᴏᴜ
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A/N: I promise it won't take as long for the second part to come out. I'm half way done with it already! I was just going to wait and post it all together but a like 12k+ word post all at once would be insane lmfao. After I am finished with this prompt the next 3 stories I will do will be from Thrilling Ghouls as they are all much shorter PWPs in the 3-5k range and I won't have to stress so much since I'm realizing all my Smooth Criminal prompts are longer fics and it takes me like a week or more to write them.
ღTaglistღ: @callm3senpaii @arxliana @jujutsualy @luxiethefairy @akaza-simp01 @fredswh0re @missphanosaur18 @moon-esque @samicamy-13
comment on m.list to be tagged in future Kinktober '23 stories
please stop to take a look at this wonderful art of the last scene that @laikatsuki created, tysm again pookie bears!!!
Reblog for Ghostface!Choso to come steal your panties although comments and likes are appreciated all the same!
PART 2
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wttcsms · 9 months
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when you know, you know, atsumu miya ;
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pairing atsumu miya x f!reader word count 1k synopsis atsumu considers marriage to be a trap, until he realizes that even a lifetime commitment to you isn't long enough content contains fluff, talks of marriage!!!! he's a softie
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It starts off like this: nobody sees Atsumu Miya getting married — not now, not ever, not in the foreseeable future, nor in any of the millions of alternate and parallel universes that may or may not exist.
You’re just not the type of person we see settling down. 
Yeah, that might be true, but it still stings a little. It stings when he sees the white picket fences, and the cars with the MY KID’S AN HONOR STUDENT bumper stickers. It stings when he happens to accidentally catch a rerun of those family-centered sitcoms; the ones where they argue during the day and make up at night, with some cliche moral to the over dramatic situations that have occurred onscreen fifteen minutes ago. It stings when he watches his teammates get engaged and he has to congratulate them — he’s genuinely happy for them, don’t get him wrong — but still… 
It doesn’t matter. Atsumu Miya has long since held the firm belief that he’s just not the type of person the whole “fall in love, get married, have a family, cue the domesticity cuteness overload” schtick is meant for. Besides, it’s not like it’s something he’s spent years obsessing over (maybe months, at most). 
He rationalizes his bachelor status (that’s been a part of him for so long that it’s getting to become somewhat of a red flag for potential girlfriends) as him being the only one left with his priorities straight. After all, he doesn't have to worry about things like parent-teacher conferences or crayon drawings on the wall or trying to buy flowers to make sure the wife isn’t too mad when he comes home late. 
After all, he tells everyone, settling down is still settling. 
And Atsumu Miya, under no circumstances, ever settles.
Which is an ideal he clings to with such a tight grip, if it were flesh and blood, it would be suffocating. He doesn’t, he decides after a while, believe in marriage. 
(That is to say: he doesn’t believe that it’s possible for him. 
It’s not what he says explicitly, but it’s what he truly means.) 
So, when he tells you this on your second date, you’re a little stunned, but you’re quick to recover. Okay… So that’s the explanation you’ve been waiting for. The reason why this six feet two inches tall professional athlete with a bank account he generously withdraws money from has been single for so long is because he doesn’t believe in marriage. 
Other than that, he’s been nothing but great. Near perfect. So, all you do is nod and continue on with the original topic of the conversation. Eventually, your budding romance blooms into something much bigger than either of you ever anticipated or saw coming, and while you yourself have never mentioned the M-word after that date, it’s all Atsumu can think about right now. 
Marriage.
The concept of it looms over your relationship; a perpetual gray cloud that threatens to flood this perfect little relationship and have it all go down the drain. You never brought it up after he basically told you he would never marry anyone, and he never brought it up purely because — well — he’s a bit of a coward. 
He’s the type of person who’s set on his own convictions, by the way. If his balls ever drop, and he decides to Man Up, he figures he’ll start the conversation just like that. His stubbornness is nothing new to you, but him figuring out that he might be wrong makes his stomach feel funny. It’s sick and twisted. 
“Hey, what do you want for dinner tonight? I’m at the store right now, and I’m in the mood to cook.” He can picture it clearly: you, standing in one of the grocery store aisles, phone balanced in between your ear and shoulder as you compare the ingredients of the name brand and generic cereal. 
He’s in the locker room, about to pack up his gym bag (that you’ll complain reeks) and head back to his apartment (that’s starting to feel a lot more like yours, with the way your skincare products dominate the bathroom counter), and it hits him so suddenly, he has to sit back down on the bench. 
Atsumu Miya thinks that marriage isn’t for him, and as a defense mechanism, he decides that marriage sucks anyway. But through the tinny speakers of his phone, he can hear you toss something in the shopping cart. He hears the faint crying of a toddler in the background, and then he starts to think about what it would be like to walk around the store with a baby that takes after you. Right now, you’re already sleeping in the same bed with him at least four times out of the week, but it would be perfect, he thinks, to get the privilege to wake up to you every morning.
“Atsumu?” You try to get his attention, and Atsumu tries to ignore the warm and fuzzy feeling he gets when he considers a future with you. Settling down is still settling, he tells himself, and then he thinks of the way you looked when you caught the bouquet at a friend’s wedding. The pleased smile on your face, the triumphant way you held the flowers over your head, head thrown back in glee; you looked absolutely radiant. You caught his eye, and you quickly lowered your hands, giving him a sheepish grin. 
He realizes now that if anyone is settling, it’s you. You don’t know that he notices the way you tear up at weddings, or how excited you sound when you get back from dress shopping with one of your friends. You want to get married, and the only thing stopping you is him.
He’s spent ages deluding himself into thinking that he’s somehow losing if he decides to trap himself into a marriage with someone, but no one can accuse him of settling when it’s you he’s marrying. You’re the prize. You’re the only person in the world he wants to give his last name and an obnoxiously big ring to. 
“Make whatever you want, baby. I’ll eat anything.” He’s checking the locations for the nearest jewelers in his immediate vicinity. “I might be a little late, though. I have to check on something.” 
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