#and then lecture them for doing exactly what he would

[tonycries]

Freak On The Cam! - C.K.

Synopsis. Choso always loved watching you - his pretty lil’ camgírl - from behind the screen. Who knew he’d love being on-screen with you even more?

Pairing. Choso Kamo x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, camgírl! reader, spítting, Choso has rings and piercings, first times + loss of vírginity (Choso’s), oral (fem receiving), exhíbitionism, DOWN BAD Choso, cúmplay, use of “ma’am”, Sukuna is a menace, víbrators, light jealousy (Choso’s), some HEINOUS things, pet names, swearing.

Word count. 6.5k

A/N. Meant to post this last week but hehe here we are. Also I’ve GOT to stop using Unc-kuna so much lmao.

“Wanna see a movie or do you wanna make one?”

Choso was screwed. Completely and utterly screwed. So badly, in fact, that he might as well just wipe off every trace of himself online and go into hiding - preferably forever.

All because he had been so stupidly careless as to leave his phone unattended for exactly 1 minute and 47 seconds around Sukuna. 

In the time it took Choso to raid the kitchen for his favorite brand of cereal, his uncle had managed to open his Twitter (because “that’s where all the juicy stuff is”), stalk your pretty page at the very top of his last searched, and send a god-awful pick-up line that would probably get him blocked. Or worse.

Damnit, he knew he shouldn’t have made his password Yuji’s birthday.

“Ya should be thankful I didn’t DM her myself, brat.” Sukuna chuckles, not even a shred of regret in his tone, way too amused with how Choso was frantically trying to tackle the phone out of his hands. “What’s the harm in asking? Such a pretty camgirl, n’ you look like you need some good pu-”

“She’s also my classmate.”

“Kinky. Even better.” 

No, not “even better”. God, this must be some kind of cosmic joke, and Choso just wished the Earth would swallow him up whole right now - and maybe his phone along with it too. 

It had taken him almost a whole semester to work up the courage to just sit next to you during your shared lecture. All gorgeous with your bright smiles, and your smart mouth. And Choso was very much content to admire you from afar - and from behind his phone screen, of course.

Never following, never liking. Never tipping you off as one of your hundreds of thousands of fans.

And now, not only had Sukuna revealed that he’d found your secret Twitter account - the one with those sinful little clips of yourself that had Choso opening the app way too much - he’d also propositioned you. Like some creep.  

“Ugh. This is why women hate you.” Still desperately grappling, he spits out more to himself than Sukuna at this point. “B-besides, she’s never even gonna respond any-”

Ping!

And the Itadori household had never been quieter. Never, on a random Saturday during spring break. Never, as the two men crowd the phone, jaws dropped and staring wordlessly at the singular message on screen. You. 

“Let’s make one ;)”

---

“So s’not a stream this time, jus’ a video. Is that okay?”  You hum from your desk, glancing at the man seated on your bed as he hastily nods along with whatever you said. Looking like he’d rather be anywhere but here. 

Weird. 

It had only been a few days of back and forth since you’d gotten that first text - the one that you’d honestly thought about blocking like the thousands of others. But there was just something about it that made you stop, something that had you clicking on the profile to delve a little deeper.

It hit you like a semi-truck back then - five of them, in fact - that this was someone in your class. Someone you knew. How the hell did he even find this account? 

You knew Choso as that sweet - albeit slightly gloomy - kid that sat next to you, always quick with his answers and even quicker to look away from your gaze, no matter how hard you tried to spark a conversation. You’d just guessed he was afraid of you or something.

So nothing could’ve prepared you for how ridiculously attractive he looked in that profile picture, all smug grins and dark locks falling effortlessly around his slightly smudged eyeliner. Shirtless, giving just a peak of- oh god, were those nipple piercings?  

Could you really be blamed? You just had to have him.

But, here - it was like he was just itching to run away at the first chance he got. 

“You’re not held at gunpoint, y’know.” you giggle at how he startles at the mere sound of your voice. The mattress dips as you stop fiddling with the camera to sit next to him, thighs flush against his muscled ones. “Are you sure you want-”

“Yes.” 

It seems that both of you were surprised by the abrupt response. Too quick. Choso clears his throat, cheeks flaring as he tries to dredge up some semblance of dignity, he drawls lightly. “I mean- Yes.”

You study him for a moment under the dim lighting, noting the way his hands clench and unclench in his lap, the way his chest rises and falls rapidly as he struggles to control his breathing. He was nervous. Nervous and horny - nothing quite like the suave impression his pick-up line gave off. 

But so irresistible just the same.

“Well…Cho.” you bat your lashes, voice dropping to a seductive whisper - not too heavy, for now at least. “Then why won’t you even look at me?”

Alas, Choso was not a strong man. 

Maybe at your words, maybe at that playful little nickname you gave him, he’s finally raising those dark eyes to look at you. Twinkling with- fear? anticipation? A flicker of something so dangerous as his gaze sweeps greedily over that tight dress you put on just for this occasion. 

Choso tries to ignore how sinfully it hugs all your curves. Or the way it would look a million times better on the floor. 

This was absolute torture. 

And God he thinks he could pass out right then and there as you lean in closer. Too close. The temperature in the room suddenly increasing by about 10 degrees as you purr, tone careful and balanced. “Much better. And now…” 

His breathing becomes heavier, eyes flickering downwards. Once. Twice. 

And you know you’ve got him in the palm of your hand. 

“...all you gotta do is touch me.”

Yeah, if Choso thought he was going to pass out before then he definitely wasn’t ready for those dangerous little words. Ones that have him shaken right to the core - fighting that urge to just take you how he’s imagined all those lonely nights.

“You- huh?” he lets out a shaky laugh, the sound strained as he crosses his legs with the subtlety of a sledgehammer, desperately trying to will away the blood rushing straight to his throbbing cock right now. 

But how could he? Not when you only shift closer, barely even a hair’s breadth between you two - relishing in his strangled gasp as your tits press so enticingly against his arm. Such an adorable pout playing on your lips as you mutter, “Do you not want to?”

And he did. Oh, how he did - has been imagining it for the past five months, in fact. And Choso lets you know, a little twenty times, actually, as the words spill panickedly from his lips. 

“-idiot trying to set me up and I’ve been dreaming of fucking you for so long but I’m just-” Heat rushes to Choso’s cheeks, as he abruptly shuts the fuck up. But it’s too late - the damage has been done.

You give him a wry smile, lips mere inches from his ear. “Just what?”

His breath hitches, muscles rippling so deliciously as he shudders beneath your touch. “I’m a-” Choking out - as if it physically hurts to  admit - “-virgin.”

Oh. 

Now, you might’ve expected many things - but certainly not this. Though, looking at the cute flush on the tips of his ears, all the way down to those big, needy eyes, you don’t mind. Not one bit.

With one, quick glance at the rolling camera - your mouth is moving before your mind. “Do you want me to…do something about it?”

And then it’s like something snapped. 

You don’t know who leans in first, just that Choso’s kissing you. And you’re kissing him - how could you not? 

Because goddammit it was always those pretty lips that you were staring at whenever he was spouting off answers in class. You just never expected he’d be kissing you back with such an infectious desperation. 

No sooner are you thinking about how sweet his lips are before he’s pulling away with a soft sigh, pressing hot open-mouthed kisses down your jaw. Your neck. Back to your lips like he wanted everything and anything.

You gasp licks a long, languid stripe up your neck - maybe at how utterly obscene it felt, maybe at that sharp cold feeling that makes you flinch. Fuck - a tongue piercing? The noise makes Choso’s mouth drop into a quick oh! surging forward to claim your lips again. Addicted. 

Only to be stopped by your hands cupping his face, letting out a pained grunt at how he was so close. Just a hair’s breadth away from your lips.

“Cho~ Open your mouth, baby.” you whisper, hotly. 

And he looked so pretty - dark hair askew, lower lip swollen and quivering with need, brows furrowing because he wanted more of your taste. But he obeys, of course he does, Choso thinks he’ll do anything you asked. And lo and behold, sitting right there in the middle of his tongue was a pretty silver piercing.

You just can’t help but thumb open his mouth further, looking him right in the eyes as you spit in his mouth. Once. Twice. 

“Bet no one else has done this before, huh?” Grinning at how sinfully Choso’s eyes roll to the back of his head at your taste, “Kiss me proper now.”

God, you were so good at throwing away whatever was left of his poor sanity. And it’s all that’s said before his kiss-bitten lips are crashing into yours again. 

“No. No one’s hah- done that before. Only you.” he’s panting into your open mouth, swirling his tongue with yours. “F-fuck only you. Only you only you-”

You barely even realize the way you’re on his lap now, sitting so prettily there that Choso half-deliriously wonders whether he should take a picture. Mind spinning too much with his throbbing erection under your drenched panties, a damp little patch at his fat tip. So hot and heavy already.

“Cho, do you want me to-”

“Yes, ma’am.”

You certainly don’t have to be told twice - especially with that little nickname. Fiddling with his belt, you’re so hazy with want - the need to taste Choso, to see if the rest of him was as sweet as his lips - that you almost miss the look of confusion that flashes across his face.

You bat your lashes at him almost-innocently, “You alright?” And Choso thinks he could cum right there and right now at the sight. If he wasn’t currently battling for his life, that is. 

“Yeah, s’jus’- what I wanted hah- was to…” His hands sneak down, cupping your heated pussy through your drenched panties. “-taste her. ”

“Oh?”

“Are y’gonna teach me how?”

Oh. Fuck.

You know you’re fucked. Completely and utterly fucked.

Only moments later, Choso’s wrestling you back onto the mattress, face-to-face with your sloppy pussy. So mean with the way he was pinning your hips down with one hand, all but ripping your panties off with the other. 

You feel his piercing before his tongue. Both the hot and cold so maddening on your cunt as Choso licks long, lazy stripes up your puffy folds - dragging his hot tongue all the way from your base. Just grazing your swollen clit. 

“Teach me- fuck fuck-” words muffled and slurring together, vibrations going straight to your pussy. “Use me. Use me how you want.”

You’re threading your fingers through his dark locks before you even realize it, grinding your sloppy cunt all over his waiting mouth. “Quirk your tongue like- ngh-” Angling him close enough so he bullies his soft tongue into your tight pussy. Piercing massaging all the right places. “Fuck-”

“Like this?”

“Sh-shit,” you gasp, nodding deliriously. “S’too ngh- good.”

And by God, did you mean it. 

“Yeah? Y’like this?” he’s groaning, wrapping his lips around your swollen clit. “Can feel you clenching around me. Shit shit shit, you love this, huh? So slutty on camera for it?” 

Getting wetter and wetter by the second as his tongue roams for that one-

“Oh! F-fuck, Cho. Right hngh- there. Deeper-”

Ah, found it.

Choso grins as you tug on his soft strands, you can feel it on your throbbing pussy. Pushing your legs all the way till they’re at your tits to hit that little spot each and every time. Again and again. Eyes glassy, torn between devouring that slutty expression on your face and how fucking drenched you were. 

“Shit, baby,” his words are so strained now, like his sanity was dancing away at each flick of his tongue. “You’re drooling everywhere. See? Show the camera now.”

You don’t have to look. Because you can feel it.

Can feel how wet his mouth is, just glistening with slick and saliva. Trailing all the way down his chin - to his wrist - only second to how sloppy your dripping cunt was. It was like he was getting messy on purpose, like a little reminder to himself that shit this was you and he was eating out your pretty cunt to insanity-

“Oh my god, think m’hooked.” Tongue dragging all over your swollen folds, catching on his piercing. “Think your pretty lil’ pussy’s hah- driving me crazy. Ruined me, Fuck-”

And it’s so embarrassing how he’s talking you through it, grinning at every lil’ whine and whimper that leaves your mouth. You were acting all shy right now in a way that makes Choso’s cock twitch so painfully. He barely even notices, though, with the way he was so drunk off your pussy. 

So messy - unable to decide between rolling his tongue over your ravaged clit and dipping into your sloppy hole. Too much. In and out in and-

“Faster.”

He goes faster. 

“H-harder.”

He goes harder.

Anything and everything for you - to keep those pretty moans falling from your lips, walls getting tighter and tighter around his tongue. And Choso might just consider himself a man addicted.

“Can you ngh- cum f’me, baby?” You flinch as he spits out the words into your cunt. Harsh. Fucked-out. Sounding just as delirious and breathless as you. “Cum f’me please. Wan’ to taste y’on my tongue. Please. Fuck- need it so bad. So bad.”

You’re so caught up in Choso’s pussydrunk little babbles that you barely even realize when you’re cumming. Just that you’re letting out a strangled scream of his name, dragging your sloppy pussy all over his mouth. 

And he has never seemed more blissed out. Long gone is that nervous little expression usually on his face around you, Choso looked like he could be suffocated in-between your legs right now and love it. Hope for it, even.

He tells you that, of course. As soon as you’re blinking back your vision, blood still roaring in your ears. Delicate strings of slick snapping where he parts from your quivering cunt, lips swollen and glossed so prettily with your sweet sweet juices. 

“Baby, y’think the video of lesson one came out good?”

Oh. Shit, what have you done?

---

That certainly wasn’t the last time you saw Choso - or the last time you had him in front of a camera, either.

A few weeks later, you found yourself with an entire album for the man - a hidden treasure trove under the simple name of “Cho <3”. Most of the videos favorited, all sorted so tediously in a way that showed you spent an obscene amount of time looking at all the ways he ruined you. 

So filthy on camera that you always wondered whether it was the same person in the sheets and in class, texting Choso for later. Just to confirm. 

But embarrassingly, only some of these videos made their way onto your Twitter account - with Choso’s pretty face largely out of the frame. The two of you hadn’t ventured into streams yet either, opting to hide him away. Because, okay, maybe you were slightly jealous of other people seeing him - but it was really hard not to be when he looked like that.

In spite of all that, you’d still gained a casual hundred thousand more followers since his appearance - ones who always commented on your solo streams asking where your “hot emo bf” was.

Comments you’d pointedly ignore, because, hell, you wished he was here on-stream helping you get off, too. Yet despite the endless flirting and videos, Choso actually hadn’t made it further than actually holding a full conversation with you. And you wanted more. 

For all you know, you might just be one of his many trysts - and it was just for the videos, right? You get the content, he gets the experience? A win-win situation, so why have you never felt more like such a loser?

Such a loser the way you’ve already lost count of the “lessons” but still haven’t gotten to feel him - to fuck him the way you wanted just yet. 

“S’alright if I take this, right, ma’am?” He smirks during one such session, knuckle-deep in your dripping cunt. Dangling your drenched panties like a badge of honor, flimsy and soaked with your sweet sweet juices. “S’alright if I-” And he can’t even finish the sentence. Your jaw drops as Choso raises the thin fabric to his face, breathing in your essence like a man possessed. 

Bzzzt-bzzzt-bzzzzt-

“You’re so filthy, Cho-” you manage to choke out once you find your voice. Squirming on his bed like such a slut for him. “Was the innocent thing just an act?”

“Nope.” he pops the p, licking lewd little circles on your neck, thumbing open your puffy folds to watch in amazement at the way you glisten and clamp around his fingers. Eyes flickering briefly to the recording phone in his hand. “But we gotta give ‘em a good show, huh?”

Right, you’d forgotten about the camera. But none of that matters anyway because-

Intensity setting 2.

“You’re so mean, too.”

“Am I?” he grins, teeth grazing along your racing pulse. “I think you taught that to me, baby. Shit, lesson 8 it was?”

God, he was addictive.

Choso’s having way too much fun playing around with the intensity setting of the bullet vibrator shoved inside your ravaged cunt. Sending quick, methodical vibrations all along your pulsing clit. In time with the breathless moans leaving your kiss-bitten lips, and it’s all you can to call out for- more? Mercy? Both? 

Bzzzt-bzzzt-bzzzzt-

“God, you’re so perfect. Shit, so messy f’me.” he groans, and you could tell that the video wasn’t going to be uploaded anyway. Too shaky, focusing in and out of Choso’s fingers. Knuckle-deep and pumping in and out of your filthy hole. Relentless. “Almost makes me wanna show off to an actual audience.”

“Maybe I want to, too.” you muse, shifting at his heated gaze. Dangerously pressing your thumb over those nipple piercings you’ve gotten to know so well lately - as if to support your point. God you wish he’d take off that snug shirt.

Intensity setting 3.

“That so?”

And no matter how many times Choso’s ruined you on camera - and watched the videos over and over afterwards - he always thought they weren’t enough to capture your perfection. 

“Such a slut f’me, baby.” To capture the exact moment in which your wet lips fall into a soft little oh! when he massages your walls in time with the pulsing vibrator. To capture that absolutely sinfully excited little glint in your eyes as he ruts his clothed erection against your pussy. “Y’always this dirty?” Quickly turning into a look of slight panic at the sudden jingle of keys from the front door. 

“Yo, brat. Where the fuck are ya?”

Ah, there he was, the reason that Choso usually locked his bedroom door whenever you were over, even if he was home alone. 

Intensity setting 4.

As the silence continues, so does Choso’s abuse on your cunt. In fact, he only gets more erratic - like he wanted you to cum. Needed you to cum right now, right here in front of Sukuna, footsteps only growing louder. Nearer.

“Cho-” you fight to get out the words. “He’s hah-.”

Bzzzt-bzzzt-bzzzzt-

“Can’t speak? That’s cute.” he coos, voice way too relaxed for someone whose mind was reeling with the realization that he couldn’t remember if he locked the door this time, and how adorable you sounded. Enough so that it made some raw, primal part of him wanna pull down his pants and fuck you right here right now. Cockblocks and his own virginity be damned. “C’mon now, use your words like a good girl. Tell the camera.”

Cocky bastard.

Bzzzt-bzzzt-bzzzzt-

“Close!” you yelp, unsure of whether you were talking about yourself or the looming Sukuna. Jaw slack, tears springing into your ears as you look up at Choso. “So close.”

God, you were addictive. And this video was definitely going in both your favorites.

“Mhm,” he hums, movements getting hastier. More desperate. “I know, ma’am.”

Intensity setting 5.

That’s all that it takes for you to cum, letting out a loud strangled moan of Choso’s name. Or, you would’ve - if it hadn’t been for the way he’s shoving two, thick fingers into your mouth.

Silencing you - and in your hazy brain you think that if this was his way of shutting you up, then you really didn’t mind. Because all you could taste was you and the cold, cold metal of his rings. Somewhat intoxicating.

“Shhhhhh.” he’s breathing out, still mindlessly grinding his hips into yours. Though, you realize with a pang that today won’t be the day you get to feel that achingly hard erection straining his pants. “These pretty moans aren’t for him, hm?”

Pressing on the back of your tongue, smirking at the way you nod tearily up at him, moans still muffled. Hell, do you even know how sexy you’re being right now.

“Mhm, all f’me. All for fuckin’ me.”

Knock! Knock! Knock! 

“Why the fuck are you locked up in here on a Saturday night?” Sukuna sounds impatient, but not surprised. Probably imagining all sorts of dorky things his nephew was doing to hole himself up in his room. “Come out n’ get this takeout- what’s left of it anyways.”

And with that, it’s like the magic is over.

Your high only just bating before Choso’s hurriedly ending the recording on a hazy still of your disappointed pout, cursing Sukuna for his impeccable timing. 

Slightly concerned about the door being broken down and someone else seeing you in all your fucked-out glory, he hastily moves to grab the spare cloth by his bedside. Cleaning you up with hushed promises of “sending the recording later”, and “s’alright, he’ll be gone soon.”

Close. You were so close.

A win-win situation - but you’ve never felt like more of a loser.

---

“By God, I never thought he’d get the balls to do it.”

You yelp in surprise at the deep voice from behind you, whirling with a defiant brandish of Choso’s (your?) keys. He’d given them to you a few lessons ago, saying it would make it easier for you to come and go from his apartment as you pleased. Which - to you - felt dangerously like something a boyfriend would say-

But that wasn’t important right now.

What was important was the older man suddenly towering over you right outside Choso’s front door. Big arms crossed over his chest, that leering smirk clashing with his pink hair. “I knew it was odd that brat had a pair of heels by the door.”

Shit. Sukuna.

Ryomen awfully-wingman-his-nephew Sukuna.

“Spill.” At your confused head tilt, he plows on. “Spill the tea. I need new blackmail on my lil’ nephew. How badly did he have to beg you to go out with him?”

You don’t know what was more bizarre - what he was saying or the way he actually pulls out his Notes app as if hanging on to your every word. 

“I-It’s because of you.” you manage to choke out, unsure of what Choso has told his family about you.  Eyes flitting between him and the door right behind you, sounding your very best not to sound just as guilty as you felt. “You’re the reason we have this weird…thing.”

A beat of silence passes. One. Two. 

And just as you’re beginning to wonder whether you’ve broken Choso’s infamous uncle, he throws his head back and laughs. Laughs, right in your face, sounding like he’d just heard the funniest punchline in the world. 

“Oh that’s hilarious.” he exclaims, wiping a mock tear. Cackles dying down as if he was suddenly aware that maybe Choso would hear and walk in on this impromptu interrogation. “Damn, that awful pick-up line is why you started fuckin’? I thought it’d get that sap blocked so he’d stop stalking your account so much.”

“No, we…” you hesitate, mind reeling with what Sukuna just admitted, and how bad it would really be that you’re divulging your sex life to a relative of the guy you’re fucking. Before thinking fuck it, might as well confide in someone. “...we’re just doing stuff for-” putting up air quotes. “-content.”

“Just content?”

“Just content.”

“And you like that fool?”

Your face burns at how glaringly obvious it apparently was, “...Yes.”

This seemingly sets Sukuna off on another wave of uncontrollable laughter. “Ohh, thanks for the blackmail on that emotionally-constipated brat.” Typing away on what you assume to be his Notes, he promptly turns to walk away, “See ya around, doll.”

“Wait!” you call after in confusion, making him stop and raise a brow. “Aren’t you supposed to like- I don’t know, give me advice for your nephew or something - like a good uncle?”

Scoffing, “Who said I was a good uncle?” He leans in ever-so-slightly, “Jus’ rock his world on camera or somethin’ n’ ask him out right in the middle.” Satisfied with being enough of a decent samaritan for today, he walks back with a half-wave, “He’d listen to whatever you say anyway.”

Oh. Is that so?

And Sukuna probably meant it as some joke. Something to tease the both of you with - but it’s something that sets the gears going off inside your head. Something that had you ignoring Sukuna’s slightly panicked, “Jus’ not too soon, I needa bully him with this first.”

---

You didn’t listen to Sukuna’s little plea, of course. Because only a few days later you’d steeled yourself to finally send that one text you knew would change your relationship with Choso. For the good, hopefully. 

You: 9pm my place. Get ready, cuz this time we’re gonna be live ;)

Cho <3: :0 

And with that, you’d thrown your phone on the bed, jittery about later tonight. Browsing through your wardrobe for that one set of barely-there lingerie in his favorite shade of pink. Hey, you could never be too prepared, right?

Nothing could’ve prepared Choso for this moment - absolutely nothing at all. 

He might’ve just died and gone to heaven the very moment he read that dangerous text - finally inviting him to join one of your streams. The ones that he’d always watch in the safety of his bedroom, lights dimmed, pants bunched around his ankles. 

Cock just achingly hard in his fist while he wished he was with you behind the camera. Getting you off so much better than any sextoy would. Just forcing those pretty moans from your lips - and everyone else could see that. Wish it was them ruining you instead. 

Alas, it was only a dirty little fantasy. 

Until now, that is.

slvt4u: Holy shit boyfriend reveal, about time.

uniwhore: THIS is the hottie from Twitter????? 

itsgenslut: idfc just fuck

“Nervous?” you smirk, looking down at the man sprawled so prettily on your bed. “You look just as close to an aneurysm as you were the first time. Though-” snaking your hand down, “-this is still the same as ever.”

You chuckle at the way Choso catches your lips with his, more to shut up those pathetic little moans threatening to escape him than anything. Because every glance at you in that sinful little pink bra gave Choso a mini heart attack. 

“B-baby-” he gasps, grinding his clothed erection against your palms. “I wan- hah-”

“Mhm?”

And God how you’ve ruined Choso - run him so utterly dry of his sanity.

Because he’s angling your head down, piercing cold against your tongue. “Spit.”

It was like that first time had gotten him addicted. So you do - right into his waiting mouth. Jaw dropping at the way he tips his head back, back, back to let it slide so obscenely down his throat. Moaning at just a taste of you, “God, I need to f-fucking ruin you.”

And if there’s anything you’ve learned after all these months with Choso, it’s that anything he says - he does.

The words have barely left his mouth before he’s pulling your bra off, ripping your panties easily off your hips. Each and every little regret about what a shame it was thrown out the window at the first sight of your pretty pussy. 

It never gets old - and Choso could never get enough of the sinful sight - your cunt so sloppy and ready for him already. 

“Cho-” you whine as ringed fingertips coming up to circle your sloppy entrance. Cold. Stretching you to insanity. “S-stop teasing.”

“Yes, ma’am. But first-” shifting you around ever-so-slightly on top of him. “Gotta show off how wet y’are f’me.”

uniwhore: did he just call her “ma’am”?? Me when??

roses101: idk who i wanna be they’re both so fucking hot ugh

“Fuck, y’look so sexy from this angle. Wonder if the camera thinks so too?”

Your face slightly burns at how he was seemingly taking over your own stream. Smug bastard, you think, glancing down at Choso, red-faced, hair untied, wearing a sly grin as his eyes slide over the flurry of comments. But two can play that game. 

“Cho~” fumbling with the hem of his underwear, “You’ve been holding out on me.”

A gasp leaves you involuntarily as you tug down Choso’s boxers just enough for his throbbing cock to spring free, hitting his sculpted abdomen. Blushed your favorite shade of pink - to match your bra - so so angry and soaked in precum. 

He was so intimidatingly long - longer than any of those toys you usually brought on camera. Thick enough that it had you wondering, shit, would you even be able to take it?

“S’this a-alright?” and for all his previous confidence, Choso sounded self-conscious. Peeking at you through his long lashes.

You grin, pumping a hand up and down his swollen cock, letting his precum drip down your wrist. “S’perfect.”

“God- fuck, baby. Oh-” Choso lets out breathless little profanities as you straddle his waist, dragging his weeping tip down your swollen folds. So fucking filthy as you sink down in by fucking in. Slowly. “Too- much-”

Apparently too slow because no sooner have you just taken in his fat tip, squeezing and clenching around him, that Choso’s flipping the both of you over. 

“M’sorry.” he breathes into your mouth as your back hits the mattress. “M’sorry m’sorry, fuck- just can’t-” fingers immediately drawing frenzied little circles on your pulsing clit to take your mind off the dizzying stretch as he bullies his massive cock into your snug cunt. “Can’t wait can’t wait- waited too fucking long. Want this so badly-”

You felt too good. Too perfect around him. 

“Ah! Hngh- Cho, oh my god. Too- ngh-” you moan, as he starts grinding in shallow, mindless little movements just to fit himself inside. Pushing and pushing, you wondered if he even realized what he was doing.

Sounding like his sanity was dwindling away with each little thrust, “S’too big? You can take it. Fuck fuck fuck please. Need this.” Pressing all the way into your lungs. “How do you wan’ it- how do you wan’ me?”

Honestly, Choso didn’t even need to ask, because he just bottoms out - heavy balls smacking against your ass, cock swollen and throbbing inside you - that you think that you just wanted him to ruin you. 

“R-ruin?” his voice breaks as he repeats - more to himself than you. Oh, shit had you said that out loud? You’re speechless as Choso throws your legs over his shoulder, dragging his swollen lips lazily across your ankle. “Yes ma’am.”

Oh. You might as well have just signed off your will. 

Because then he’s fucking into your sloppy cunt. Unforgiving. A man starved because he was. Jagged, quick thrusts, splitting you apart deeper and deeper on his rock-hard cock. 

“Fuck- fuck fuck fuck-” he pants into your open mouth, finding it so fucking difficult to find any rhythm when your tight cunt was milking him so good. “You feel so good. So messy. Ya love it like this, huh? Being hngh- watched?”

“Hngh-” you buck wildly into his body, reaching up to play coyly with his nipple piercings. Tugging and pulling lightly. “Feels too good- are- ah- are ya sure this is your first time?”

Honestly, it was a wonder Choso didn’t cum right then and there. 

Tojisslvt: need someone to fuck me like this the first time

22sabi: Typing with one hand is so hard.

DaStrongest: i could fuck her so much better than than inexperienced loser

Choso throws his head back in a cruel little laugh at that last comment, something that makes you tingle all the way from your burning cheeks to your stuffed cunt. Clamping down deliciously on Choso’s unforgiving cock in a way that makes his hips and fingers stutter. 

“Ya think you could fuck her better?” it takes you a second to realize he was talking to the camera and not you. Thrusts getting sloppier, getting familiar. “I’m the one that got her so messy like this.” Purposeful. Calculated. Like he was aiming for that one-

“Fuck!” you scream as he hits that magic spot. Once. And then over and over like a man possessed. Just so utterly ruining you the way you knew he could. “Cho oh my god- I can’t hah- ngh-”

The cold metal of Choso’s rings dig into your cheek softly as he turns you head to face him. God, this was the stuff of his wildest dreams.

You - teary eyed and looking up at him like such a slut. Pussy getting wetter - tighter - as he teases you in front of the camera. Torn between running away from his relentless cock and bucking up for more more more-

 “Fuck no no no- Keep your legs open, baby. Don’t hah- run away from me.” his fingers dig into your hips, pulling you impossibly closer. “Don’t- need this. Need this so ba- shit.” 

And he sounded so genuinely worried he’d lose the feeling of your heady cunt. Fingers bruising on your hips as he pulls you closer. Like he was trying to fuck out any and every shred of shyness out of your body. 

slvt4u: Always the quiet ones.

DaStrongest: heh, fuck off. i’d make her cum so much harder.

Now, Choso was fucking you like he had a point to prove, and it was probably the only reason he hadn’t passed out from how good your pussy felt wrapped around him. 

Both of you were barely-lucid at this point - and he was out of control now.

Pussy drunk thoughts unfiltered, “No one’s ever d-done this- got me hah- feeling like this.” And you had the distinct feeling he just beat you to your original goal, letting out sweet little babbles into your open mouth - though his hips were anything but. 

So hard that you were sure the creases of your sheets would leave marks for tomorrow - along with his balls on your ass, your ankles on his shoulders, lips searing against yours. It was like he wanted to prove something - to prove he was good enough to- the viewers? To you? 

Knowing your body well enough to hit that one spot over and over until you were sobbing. Fingers erratic on your clit. 

“Cho-” you squeal, tears springing to your eyes as he only gets sloppier. “I-I’m gonna-”

“Cum?” he breathes, as if he couldn’t believe it. And fuck if you weren’t the gates of heaven spread wide open for him then he didn’t know what was. “Fucking cum. Please please- hah- f’me. Cum on m’cock n’ make them jealous. F’me- Like you’re mine.”

You barely even realize when you are. Jaw slack, eyes rolling to the back of your head as you see stars behind your eyes, blood roaring in your ears. God, he was gonna have to go home and rewatch this stream all over again. 

“Ngh- m’cumming m’cumming oh-”

Not even realizing the way you’re dragging your nails down Choso’s sculpted back. Marking up his milky skin - and he lets you. 

Loved it in fact- the way he loved you. 

Your eyes go wide, and Choso knows he’s fucked up. Realizing with a jolt that words were tumbling out of his mouth before he could stop them. But it’s the way you squeeze him tighter- giving him such a gorgeous little fucked-out smile that sends him over the edge.

Sharp canines digging into the crook of your neck like he wanted to break skin, holding himself back from breaking you while he cums and cums so hard it hurt. Over and over-

“Love you- love you love you love you-” he’s muttering into the skin, unbarred. “Since I first saw hah- you. Wanted this more than fuck fuck- air that I breathe.”

His seed was oozing out of you now, painting your ravaged pussy white, dribbling down your legs.  So fucking full and debauched. Thick, hot globs that were sure to stain those overpriced new sheets. But did Choso care for the mess? Not at all. 

Because you were holding him so impossibly tight, pushing away the strands of hair sticking to his forehead. Whispering little praises as he fucks you through his first time. Close. Warm. Everything he ever dreamed of.

“S’everything I ever dreamed of, too, Cho.”

And he knows he’s won. 

urfavslvt: Proudest nut. Want more.

uniwhore: does this mean couples content??? Pls say yes plsplspls

DaStrongest: invite me next time <3

“Thought you were embarrassed.” he licks soothingly over the bite. Voice shot, piercing smooth against his tongue. Embarrassing little confessions leaving him with each spark of electricity running through his veins. “Thought you didn’t stream w’me cuz of that- but shit. Dreamed of this f’so long. So long-”

Oh?

“Hey, Cho.” your voice rings through his hazy mind. Just enough for Choso to raise his head and meet your intoxicating, sultry gaze. Giving a sly, sidelong glance at the still-blinking camera. 

“Mhm?”

“Wanna film a week’s worth of ‘movies’ in advance?”

---

Sukuna (do not answer): Oi shitty nephew, where r u Jin made me come over with (half) leftovers.

You: Sorry, not home. At the movies rn.

Sukuna (do not answer): When tf do u go to movies?? 

You: Since now, on a date. You probably can’t relate.

Sukuna (do not answer): Stfu n’ stop lying, a date with who? Ur body pillow?? Not like u had the balls to ask out that pretty lil’ camgirl anyway.

Haha

Right? 

You: *girlfriend

Sukuna (do not answer): Huh?

You: Girlfriend.

Sukuna (do not answer): THE FUCKIN’ PICK-UP LINE WORKED??

A/N. This came out a LOT longer than expected. 

Plagiarism not authorized.

[robintherobiner]

What would the Wayne Family and the Bat Family post tiktok

Bruce: videos of him buying new outfits with the material girl sound over it because, according to one post, 'his kids said it was funny and he liked seeing them smile'. on his official account though (the wayne enterprises one) his 'social media manager' posts clips from interviews and soundbites.

Batman: does not have a tiktok.

Dick: posts videos of him either doing gymnastics or of him hanging out with his siblings. Most of the time he is throwing up a peace sign and then Tim and Damian are wrestling in the background and he captions it something along the lines of 'brothers drawing blood in Blud!'

Nightwing: posts videos of short self defense tips/poses, regularly collabs with Red Hood. (not that Jason knows this, Dick just sets up a camera and then goes and bothers his brother until he tries to punch him so he can teach people to block)

Barbara: Posts videos talking about accessibility (both whats available and what should be put in place). if one of the wayne's annoy her, she also will post a compilation of them doing something silly like tripping over thin air or being caught using a hairbrush as a microphone)

Oracle: posts clips of people doing non violent crimes (faces blurred out ofc) with the caption "the eye in the sky sees you, dumbass." because why would you try ack a car on a street with three non-hidden cameras

Jason: doesn't post. anymore. does have an account from when he was a teenager where it's just him doing sped up acting videos to sounds. he has tried to log in to take it down but Bruce changed the password. Brucie regularly comments on different videos like "my baby was such a star... rip sweetie 🕊️🕊️🕊️" and its Jason lip-syncing to fucking Justin Bieber or something

Red Hood: posts videos shitting on Batman. the comments were full of people saying "daddy issues" or "i wanna be a dealer just so you can shoot me babygirl" so he turned them off. sometimes someone (tim) turns them back on and Jason gets bombarded with "BRO IS SERVING CUNT"

Cassandra: posts videos of her doing ballet, or of her showing off her strength. Not on purpose though, she thinks its fun to post videos of her teasing her brothers and the comments are like "WHY DID SHE JUST PICK UP DICK GRAYSON WITHOUT EVEN BREAKING A SWEAT WHAT"

Orphan: has a shared account with Batgirl, but she doesn't post on it, just sort of stands in the background as Steph makes funny videos.

Stephanie: enjoys posting videos pretending to be dating both Tim and Cass because she thinks its funny when the internet call her a gold digger and cheater. Bernard (after going public with Tim) occasionally fuels the fire by commenting "lmao get ur bag girl" under a video of her dragging Tim to a resturant

Batgirl: posts videos of her making fun of rogues, and on her shared account with Cass, just joins in on trends but obviously mixing it to fit her (aka: "when Batman lectures you for breaking a criminals leg but your literally just a teenage girl")

Timothy: like Bruce, he has two accounts. One is professional, with him promoting Wayne Enterprises products or whatever. Second one is full of him doing wild shit like skateboarding down the manor stairs or him trying to confuse Bruce with cringey slang. his most popular video though, is of him using the Nepo Baby sound by Fox SZN

Red Robin: posts slideshows of pictures of Gotham. All very aesthetic ones, of good architecture and people laughing together and shit. His bio is "showing you guy why I do what I do." His account is very artsy fartsy but he also was the first batfamily member to get verified

Duke: doesn't post, just likes videos.

Signal: posts videos of him trying to scare the other vigilantes, cuz, yknow, he can go invisible. tell me you wouldn't do that either if you could be invisible. exactly, you can't. He also makes videos about how hard it is to be a teen vigilante.

Damian: videos of his pets doing tricks. also regularly stitches Tim's videos and just deadass insults him. Tim always comments on his stitches with just a singular emoji because he found out it pisses Damian off more when he doesn't have a big reaction

Robin: posts about resources for gothamites. also has a shared account with Superboy (Jon) where they try and sneak up on both Superman and Batman. They have yet to succeed on either one.

[coloursflyaway]

Ok, so I’m a big fan of your dbda fics and I saw you were asking for prompts. I have 2, one of which is inspired by one of your reblogs.

1. Charles kisses Edwin at the worst possible time, maybe ending in them getting captured and Edwin giving him a lecture on “time and place”, Charles arguing with “you’re one to talk about time and place”, referring to the hell confession

2. Preferably very angsty, Charles wants to kiss Edwin to try and figure out if he feels the same way, and Edwin stops him, saying something along the lines of “if we did kiss and you didn’t feel the same way I don’t think I could bear it”

Obviously no pressure to write either of them, but I would love to see how you would develop these ideas more.

Hiii, thank you so much for these ♥♥♥ I'm keeping the second one for later, because I really like that, but here's a little ficlet for the first prompt!

It’s not like Charles plans it to go like this, is it? In fact, he isn’t sure if he could plan it like this if he tried, he’s not sure if anyone could.

It’s just something that happens, because, to be honest, it was always bound to happen at some point, and it’s not Charles fault that Edwin, well. Stood there. Looking so pretty with his perfectly coiffed hair and his kind eyes and high cheekbones. Not even the look of slight exasperation had detracted from how much of a vision he looked, maybe because Charles has gotten more than used to it in the thirty-odd years they have known each other.

(He knows exactly how many years it’s been, how many months and days too, could probably reconstruct it down to the hour, but that gets to be his little secret, only admired sometimes in dark nights and especially bright mornings, when Edwin is reading or doing research or concentrating on something else enough that the tip of his tongue peaks out between his plush, pink lips.)

And Charles didn’t decide to take a step towards him, just like he hadn’t decided to reach up and put one hand on Edwin’s cheek, feeling the sudden breath Edwin had taken. Two decades ago, Charles had persuaded Edwin to try breathing again, at least occasionally, as a little luxury, a little treat, and it still makes him smile to see Edwin do it, made him smile in that moment, too, and maybe that had been decision.

But leaning in and kissing Edwin, that hadn’t been a choice at all.

Just something he had to do in that moment, because there was a little smudge of chalk on the edge of Edwin’s jaw, because Edwin had looked at him and behind and around and between the exasperation, he had looked so fond. And Charles had thought, he loves me, and then, I love him, too.

What other choice did he have than kiss that love onto Edwin’s lips?

Only that when he pulls back, a smile on his lips and, if possible, even more love in his heart, Edwin is looking him with wide eyes and his lips kissed pink, but not curved, not smiling.

“Charles”, he starts, and Charles isn’t certain he has heard this tone in his voice before; it makes him giddy to think that this is something brand new he gets to find out about his favourite person in the world. “What are you doing?”

“Sorry”, Charles starts out of habit, then stops himself, brow furrowing. “Actually, no, I’m not sorry at all. That was great and I’ll do it again. And again.”

He grins at Edwin, happiness bubbling in his chest until he feels like he’s bursting; a sound drips from Edwin’s lips, something in between a gasp and a whine.

“There’s a time and a place-”, he begins a speech Charles has heard before, and it’s so easy to interrupt him this time, because Charles usually doesn’t mind the scolding, but there’s more important things right now, like kissing Edwin again.

“You mean, like not in the middle of summoning a demon? Yeah, maybe. But I’m not sure if you really get to talk about times and places. At least it’s not on the stairway to Hell, is it?”

And Edwin’s eyes widen even more, if that is possible, and not that Charles doubted it before, but God, he really does love him.

Without thinking, he moves his thumb to wipe the chalk from Edwin’s skin, and Edwin sucks in a breath, then, with the quietest, most hopeful voice, asks, “You do mean it, don’t you? You’re sure? This isn’t just a-”

“Of course I mean it”, Charles cuts him off, before Edwin can say anything else, can think that Charles might not be serious about this for a moment longer. “Have never meant anything more than this.”

Another breath, one that Charles can almost feel against his skin, and Edwin nods.

“Maybe, then, after the demon, we could-”, he starts, but doesn’t get to finish this sentence either.

“Sod the demon”, Charles says, and means it.

This time, when he kisses Edwin, it’s a choice, and it’s the best one he’s ever made.

[starlightshadowsworld]

Eyes of an Idealist

(Or teenage Kunikida gets in trouble and Fukuzawa is here to bring him home.)

"Did they bring you here to lecture me too? Well save it, I've heard enough." Came the teens angered words as Fukuzawa stepped into the room.

The officer at the door moved to walk in but Fukuzawa dismissed him with a look. Angry as he may be Kunikida was not dangerous.

Unless he was provoked which that officer definitely would have done.

Fukuzawa sat in the provided chair, eyeing the bars of the cell with distaste. He didn't like this set up, not in the slightest.

Oh sure he understood the reasoning.

But that didn't mean anything to him. All Fukuzawa wanted was to bring his boy home. 'He's got to be cold being in here for so long' he wondered.

Maybe he could pass him his jacket?

"No one bought me here. Ranpo heard what happened and told me." Replied Fukuzawa, relief flooding his veins when he heard shuffling from a dark corner.

Even though Fukuzawa couldn't see him, he knew he had the teens attention.

"Ranpo? Is he alright?"

Just like that his anger was put on pause. Nevermind that Ranpo hadn't even been in the area when the fight had broke out.

The fight in question being at a student protest Kunikida was attending.

One that resulted in a fellow student being hurt by an officer. Kunikida had seen red, launched himself at the officer and... Well here we are.

How Ranpo knew what happened was something Fukuzawa didn't question. It was best not to when it came to Ranpo.

He was just relieved Ranpo had called for help instead of getting involved. Who knows what trouble Kunikida would be in if Ranpo had gotten hurt.

"He's alright, completly unharmed. As is your fellow student.." Reassured Fukuzawa, he smiled a little. "Ranpo said you'd ask that first."

That earned him a chuckle, albeit a pained one. It only fueled Fukuzawa's resolve to get him out of here. "He's worried, as am I. The officer said you refused medical care, were you hurt?"

The Presidents voice was it's usual calm, if tinged with worry. He hadn't been happy hearing the news, but he wouldn't let any anger slip.

Kids were a lot like cats, they needed a calm but firm hand.

Ranpo responded to anger with jokes. From light hearted to cut throat to protect himself. Katai was a runner, he would flee back to where he felt safe.

Kunikida was a lot like Yosano, both of them were fighters. But while Yosano hid behind sadistic taunts, Kunikida's rage left him vulnerable.

The youngest of the group was also the angriest one, the passionate one. He fought for any injustice, big or small that went against his ideals.

Kunikida burned like a candle at both ends. Fukuzawa had known from the moment they'd met that it would only get him hurt.

"I'm not mad" he said, quietly and calmly. "I just want to know if you're okay." Honesty also helped. It hurt knowing how much his wards had been hurt that they always assumed the worst.

After a moment, Kunikida crawled into view. He sat himself just by the bars, the dim light highlighting a black eye, the broken glasses in a still bleeding hand.

Rage flared in Fukuzawa's bones before he stamped it out, lest he scare Kunikida. 'How did they let him in here?! When he's still bleeding?'

Oh those cops were going to get an earful.

"It's not that bad" Said Kunikida defensively. "You should see the other guy." Despite himself, Fukuzawa chuckled. "I know, though this is not where I thought I'd be spending my evening."

Kunikida had the grace to look down. "I don't regret what I did. But I am sorry for wasting your time." Not for the first time did Fukuzawa feel his heart break.

He got up and knelt beside the bars, hugging Kunikida the best he could.

"You haven't wasted any of it. Do I wish you hadn't been involved in a fight? Absolutely. But you did exactly what I have always taught you to do. You fought for what you believed in, to protect others."

Fukuzawa gently ran a hand through Kunikida's hair. "I am worried because you care so much for others, you're heart is so full."

He looked at Kunikida, his son in all but blood. "But you do not save that care for yourself."

You're a light that I don't want to see fade.

Kunikida looked like he didn't know what to say. But that was okay, he could burn as bright as the stars. And Fukuzawa would be here to catch him, so would the rest of them.

That's what he'd taught them after all.

"Mr Fukuzawa, wait we still need to question that boy!" Fukuzawa leveled the officer with a glare that shut him up. "I'm taking my boy home, do you have a problem with that?"

He didn't wait for them to reply. Kunikida, now bundled in his jacket had fallen asleep from all the excitement of the day. Fukuzawa shook his head with a fond smile as he carried him back to the Agency.

Home at last.

[craftytomato]

Lanolin is seriously getting on my nerves for one specific reason. Why is her default reaction to someone possibly getting seriously hurt to act like a jerk and lecture them?

Question? In these two instances, why doesn't she make sure that everyone is okay before lecturing whoever could possibly be hurt in the situation? I get how this looks from her perspective. With Silver especially I probably would have sided with her if it wasn't revealed that Mimic was Duo or if we didn't see Mimic do exactly as Silver said. But that doesn't change the fact that she doesn't give any indication of caring that someone could potentially be seriously hurt. She just goes straight into lecture mode.

Silver could have died to that badnik. Mimic thought that he was as good as dead. And yet no one even asked if Silver -the guy who nearly got swallowed by a badnik- was alright before Lanolin started her lecture.

In example 2, Sonic, Tails, and Amy could very well be hurt. What does Lanolin do?

She doesn't ask if they're okay.

She cuts Tangle off when SHE'S asking if they're okay!

She just says "get off the track" without even letting them answer Tangle's question or even escorting them off the track to ensure their safety and the safety of other potential racers who could smash into them. (Duo of all people is being more helpful than her by redirecting other racers in the background)

This just makes me so angry and makes me hate Lanolin when I initally liked her. Bare minimum, have her confirm that everyone is okay before she starts on her b-s and most of my problems with her go away. But instead it's like she couldn't be bothered cause she's too focused on the stick lodged up her butt

[missathlete31]

The hand on the hip, semi- exasperated expression is just making me imagine a Dad!Jake Seresin moment where maybe a mini Hangman just got detention for sassing back at a teacher and all the Daggers are just laughing at Jake like “are you even surprised, he’s your son after all!”

It’s giving me PTA mom meets hot naval aviator lol

[robotwrangler]

Just got given a run-down of basic stuff about atoms and my head is spinning. I was always told they were the smallest thing, and I didn’t really understand what protons, neutrons or electrons were, but now it’s like.. there are even smaller things called quarks, and atom bits n pieces are made of them.. except electrons which aren’t made of anything and are just themselves and nothing else.. I really missed out on some crazy stuff by dropping out of high school in year 10 to get an art diploma

[fingertipsmp3]

Might just pass the fuck out actually

[rowarn]

EXPERIENCE (m.)

könig x inexperienced!reader

tags: age gap, acquaintances to lovers, afab!reader but gn

cw: loss of virginity, cunnilingus, fingering, hand riding (hear me out), pussyjob, talking u thru it, praise, pet names (liebling, little one), size kink/difference, handjob, reassurance/encouragement kink, wet&messy, konig is uncut hehe, squirting

note: konig is in his 40s and reader is in their 20s!

;in which you live in the same building as a really hot, older, military man

9.5k

When you met König, you never expected the harmless interactions to ever evolve into anything substantial. He lived somewhere in the same apartment building as you did, though you didn’t know where exactly. Most times, you would find him in the elevator or cross paths with him in the lobby. 

You knew he was in the military, most of the people living in the building were. It was close to the nearby base and had rent for a damn good price. The way he carried himself, back straight and body seemingly always at attention gave him away. 

He was massive, standing much taller above you with broad shoulders and thick thighs. A lot of the time he was wearing a hood over his face, mostly when he was coming or going from work – which was seemingly all the time. 

On the few occasions that you caught him without the hood, you could tell it was him solely by his build. There was no one else in the building who looked anything like that. 

He was handsome, in a rugged, tired kind of way. He was a lot older than you were expecting him to be – probably in his early to mid forties, you guessed. He had salt and pepper hair, fine lines etched onto his face, and stern eyes from (no doubt) many years in the military. 

You had never properly spoken to him before. Hell, you didn’t even know his name. You greeted him when you saw him and smiled in passing when you made eye contact. Occasionally, he would respond in an accented voice that you longed to ask about. 

The event that changed everything was a fun little night out you had with your friends. You had maybe had a bit too much to drink before finally conceding at your friends’ behest to call yourself an Uber. 

By the time you reach your apartment building, you’re still very buzzed and starting to feel a little nauseous. You stumble to the elevator and impatiently slam your thumb on the button over and over again, losing count as you do. 

“It’s not going to come any faster,” an accented voice drones next to you, nearly making you jump out of your skin. 

“You scared the shit out of me,” you wheeze, hand over your racing heart.

“You should be more aware of your surroundings then,” he says, “Especially when you are intoxicated.”

You huff through your nose, growing annoyed at the prospect of being lectured. The elevator grants mercy and dings before slowly opening. There's a rowdy group of men inside who quickly walk out of the elevator, seedy eyes immediately finding their way to you, scanning your body up and down as they pass by. 

You feel that nauseous pit in your stomach twist as you finally step onto the elevator. Nothing to ruin your jovial mood from a nice evening more than a group of leering men. Living in an apartment building filled with soldiers, it wasn’t unusual to have them stare at you – didn’t mean you liked it. 

You cross your arms over your chest as König steps on, the elevator creaking and groaning under his immense weight. 

“What floor?” he asks softly, glancing at you over his shoulder as he stands in front of the button panel.

“3,” you mumble, leaning against the back wall. You watch him punch in the 3 but not anything else, making you raise a brow, “You live on 3 too?”

He shakes his head but doesn’t say another word. You narrow your eyes at his back, if he feels you looking, he doesn’t give it away. The elevator is plunged into silence aside from the quiet sound of the shaft moving up and up until it dings and the doors slide open. 

He steps out first, standing in the threshold to keep the door from closing as you push yourself off the wall. Your head swims for a second and you stumble past him, keenly aware of his eyes on you. 

You wander down the hallway, glancing over your shoulder to see him slowly stalking behind you. His arms hand limply by his sides, his fists clenched into fists but he remains a respectable distance. 

“Why are you following me?” you ask, unable to hide the nervousness in your tone, “You said you don’t live on this floor.”

“Young recruits are tools,” he supplies simply, “I am making sure you make it to your door without any problems.”

That causes you to hum and for a little flutter in your stomach to manifest. You brush it off and pause at your door, pulling your keys out so unlock it. You push it open and step in, letting it hit your back to keep it from closing as you turn to look at your companion.

“Thank you…um…” you clear your throat and look at him expectantly. 

“König,” he supplies simply, arms tucked behind his back, making him look even wider. 

“König…” you repeat, feeling the words on your tongue, “Interesting name. Where are you from?”

“Austria,” he replies almost mechanically, “I will be going now.”

You don’t get to say another word before he’s stalking away and down the hallway, heavy footfalls practically rumbling the ground beneath him. You slowly close your door and lean against it, hand placed over your racing heart – when did that start up? 

You blame it on your inexperience when it comes to men. You’d had a couple boyfriends, pretty standard for someone in their 20s. Your problem was none of them were ever good enough. The over-zealous types who wanted their dicks sucked as gratitude for paying for dinner. Then would turn around and either give you the most lackluster head of your life, barely any foreplay before trying to shove his dick into an unprepared hole. 

You had never given them the chance, once they showed they were only interested in their own pleasure and would more than likely not even think about touching your clit or angling for your g-spot, you stopped them and kicked them out. More often than not, you woke up to a break-up text because of course you did. 

So that was how you were still a virgin and more or less, at this point, given up on dating. You’d been single now for the better part of 6 months and had no intentions of giving any men your own age a shot at it. 

But…you hadn’t considered an older man. Like König. 

At that thought, you pushed yourself off the door and kicked your shoes off, intent on taking a shower to hopefully wash these drunken thoughts out of your head. So he’d been nice and walked you to your door, no questions asked, so what? Didn’t make him any different from men your age. 

As you made it to the bathroom, you felt your stomach finally churn for the final time and found your head buried in the toilet. You cursed yourself for not listening to your friends, who apparently knew your own limits better than you did. 

The next time you see König is just a few days later. You walk into the apartment’s gym on the ground floor, and there he is – sitting lifting weights. You pause when you see him, feeling that traitorous flutter in your chest you were sure you puked out that night you had learned his name. 

You watch the way his biceps flex, bulging so large you’re sure not even two of your hands could wrap around the girth of it. There were some scars littering his skin, most of them white and raised from age but a few that still had that new tissue pink color. You also noticed some fading tattoos encircling his forearms. Fuck, he was hot. 

You hung your head and scampered over to the treadmill, intent on getting your cardio up. 

As you run, you notice a group waltz in, laughing and shoving each other. You glance over at them, rolling your eyes when some of them make eye contact and nudge their buddies. They lean in close and whisper to each other with shit eating grins on their faces and you find frustration building up so you try to ignore them. 

“Quiet,” you hear an accented voice snap, full of authority, “You are disturbing everyone.”

The rowdy young men quiet down immediately and clear their throats, “S-Sorry, Colonel,” one of them utters.

‘Colonel? Is that high ranking?’ you find yourself wondering, making a mental note to look that up later. 

Either way, König manages to make the gym peaceful once again and you finish your workout with no other hitches. 

You grab your towel and dab at the sweat on your face and neck as you swiftly make your way out of the gym, completely unaware of the shadow following closely behind. 

You slow to a stop at the elevator, punching the button to call it as you sip on your water bottle, mindlessly going over what else you need to do with your day. The shadow behind you remains stagnant, still and silent as it lurks behind your unsuspecting form as the elevator opens and you step on. 

He follows, hefty weight causing the elevator to groan as usual. That gets your attention and you jump, placing a delicate hand over your racing heart just like you had before, eyes wide in shock at his appearance.

“You’re doing it on purpose now!” you whine at him and he has to fight back a smile at it. 

“I told you that you needed to pay more attention to your surroundings,” he replies smoothly, pressing the 3 button for you before pressing 5 for himself. 

“How is a guy as big as you able to be so quiet?” you ask softly, making note of the floor he lives on. 

“Years of training,” he gives a quick response that you hum at. There is a beat of silence before he finds himself speaking again, “You never gave me your name.”

He sees the way you look at him in surprise and he almost wishes he could rip the words from the air as soon as he says them. He doesn’t want you to get the wrong idea that he actually wants to get to know you. 

But you smile softly and give him your name with a kind nod of your head before the elevator grants him mercy and dings at the arrival on your floor.

“See you around, König,” you say as you step off. 

He doesn’t respond. 

Once back in the safety of your apartment, you find yourself going through the entire interaction in your head over and over again. Your heart races as you think back on him. 

It's as you’re making dinner for yourself that you finally have the coherent thought of revelation that you may have a crush on König. 

The revelation is almost enough to have you groaning out of frustration into the quiet sanctity of your apartment but you manage to refrain. But you can’t deny you don’t quite know what to do about it now. You had sworn off of men but…that was men your own age. König was…older than you, surely at least 15 years your senior, possibly more. You figure it couldn’t hurt to ask him out for some coffee one of these days. 

Except, the next time you see König is almost 2 weeks later. You don’t see hide nor hair of him at all. It definitely puts a damper on your confidence and you almost think your crush was just a fleeting little thing and for that you’re grateful for. 

Until the elevator opens one day and there he is. He’s wearing his hood but his eyes look even more exhausted than usual – beyond the general tiredness that comes with age. You carefully step on, joining him in the downward descent to the lobby. It’s just the two of you and feel that fluttering in your chest start up again and your hands begin to sweat. You scour your brain for something to say — anything to start up a conversation after so long of not seeing him.

“Haven’t seen you around,” you mutter softly. He hums softly in acknowledgement but doesn’t supply much of a response beyond that, “Where have you been?” you try again.

“Deployed,” he finally responds after several seconds of silence. 

You can’t find any way to respond or keep the conversation going but it’s sure that he has no intentions of doing so anyway. Still, it surprised you that he had been deployed, you hadn’t considered that. It made sense now that you thought about it. 

The elevator opened and you both stepped out. He walked much faster than you, beelining out of the apartment and you briefly considered letting him go but another part of you wanted to stop him and ask him out. 

You cursed to yourself and jogged forward, calling his name. He stopped in his tracks at the sound of you calling for him. He looks down at you over his nose, a burning gaze that makes your nervousness spike. Perhaps it wasn’t such a good time after all. 

“What?” he snaps, clearly impatient.

“Oh um…” you clear your throat and slow to a stop, “N-Nevermind…”

He huffs through his nose and resumes storming out of the apartment. You find yourself sighing deeply, following his lead. When you get outside, he’s nowhere to be seen and you once again find yourself wondering how a man of his size is so good at not being seen. 

A few nights later, the weekend rolls around and you find yourself standing in that damned elevator with him once again. He’s maskless and it gives you pause before stepping on. 

It’s silent for a few seconds before he says, “I am sorry for the other day.”

You look up at him with wide eyes, “Um…what do you mean?”

“I was not polite towards you,” he answers, casting a soft gaze towards you that makes your heart flutter, “I took my bad mood out on you and I should not have. So…I am sorry.”

“Oh…” you clear your throat and give him a smile, “it’s alright, König. I shouldn’t have bothered you with something silly.”

He frowns at you, “Something silly?”

“It’s nothing,” you assure him, smiling kindly at him. 

He wants to ask you what you mean but the elevator door opens and you step out, making him realize that you reached your floor. You wave your goodbye to him as the doors close and he lets his head fall back with a sigh once he’s alone.

Yet another bad day weighed heavily on his shoulders when you came waltzing into the elevator, bright eyed and happy. His fists were clenched behind his back and he did his best to avoid looking at you, hoping you would take the hint and not speak to him like you usually did. It hadn’t been but a day since he had apologized to you for making an ass of himself in the lobby and he didn’t want to do the same thing so soon after. 

But then you say something that sends it all crumbling down.

“Hey…” you start, fidgeting your fingers in front of you, “Would you like to get coffee sometime? Maybe lunch?”

You ask it so sweetly and softly. For some reason, that grates on his nerves even more than anything.

“What?” he snaps, cold and sharp in a way that makes you visibly freeze. 

You look up at him like a deer caught in the headlights, “Um…w-well, I just…it’s…I would like to…”

Your nervous babbling only serves to piss him off even more as his glare narrows down on you, making you shrink in on yourself where you stand. Suddenly, the elevator feels much smaller than it had ever before – even with him filling most of the space as usual. 

“You want to go out with me?” he spits, his accent growing stronger with every venomous word that he can’t seem to stop from spilling from his lips, “I am twice your age, what the hell makes you think I would want to date you?”

You swallow thickly around the lump forming in your throat and bite back the tears that threaten to form. He hears you sniffle and promptly snaps his head to look at you. Under the ugly, yellow light of the elevator he can see the tears trickling down your cheeks and he suddenly wants to slap himself into the next decade. 

He wants to open his mouth so badly and apologize for being so cruel to you. He knows he could have told you no in a much softer way rather than making your feelings seem like something revolting or stupid. But the elevator doors open and you’re slipping out before he even has a chance. He decides not to chase after you. 

It’s for the best, he assures himself. 

It only takes a few days before he’s vehemently regretting not stopping you then and there. 

It happens on a Friday night, the elevators are closing just as a hand jumps between them, sending them opening again. You step on, giggling in a way that tells him you’re just a little inebriated. You freeze when you see him standing there, maskless and cold gaze as he watches you tug a young man into the elevator behind you – clearly a little drunk himself. 

You pointedly stand in front of König, keeping your back to him to show that you’re not even willing to look at him. König feels his heart clench painfully in his chest before it’s replaced by a wash of anger as he watches the young man paw at you. He slips his hand down your back to grope at your ass, making you giggle breathlessly before you’re batting his hands away with a little bat of your lashes. 

König wishes he had an excuse to step off the elevator at the same time as you – anything to prolong his time with you. He’s never felt the desire to cockblock someone more in his whole entire life. 

But he doesn’t move. He just watches you step off without a single glance in his direction before you’re vanishing around the corner and the elevator doors close silently, leaving König alone with his thoughts. 

You couldn’t believe you brought this guy to your apartment. You especially couldn’t believe you were letting him strip you of your clothes and paw at your body like some kind of mindless dog. You had sworn to yourself that you were not going to fall into this trap again – a 20-something year old guy buying you a drink, complimenting you a little, teasing and groping you in the club until you caved and brought him home. It wasn’t your first go around – and it always ended the same way.

But you were drunk and you needed to get your mind off that stupid, giant Austrian military man that lived in your building. And wouldn’t you know it, he was on the elevator as soon as you got in. It was almost enough to sober you up, your wounded pride and feelings still so prevalent even after a few days of nursing the hurt. 

You could only hope that this would relieve you of your hurt feelings. 

Unfortunately, you quickly realized that this was a mistake. 

As soon as he started groping you, spreading your legs and trying to stuff his cock inside you without so much as a single finger of prep – you knew this wasn’t going to happen.

You tried to lead him, thinking maybe he was a little too tipsy to actually think about it.

“How about a little prep, hm?” you ask softly.

He pauses what he’s doing and you can practically see the gears turning in his head, “Oh…you’re one of those…”

He says it in disgust and you feel yourself bristle in annoyance, “One of what?”

“You want me to eat you out, right?” he scoffs, rolling his eyes, “That shit’s gross, c’mon just let me stick it in, already.” It was that moment that you felt any minute desire you had to have sex evaporate. 

You don’t even bother walking the guy out, leaving him to limp to the elevator in shame with a hard cock and blue balls.

It takes you a few days to find it in yourself to crawl out of your apartment. The only reason you actually do leave is because you’re in need of food – your little supply of ramen has depleted and you have to bite the bullet. 

After your little shopping trip at the nearby convenience store, you find yourself waiting for the elevator when a dark shadow looms over you. You feel a pit of dread in your stomach as you smell the musky, sweet scent of his cologne. But you don’t dare acknowledge his presence. 

He doesn’t give you long to ignore him, however, before he’s talking to you.

“How was your little date?” he asks, voice dripping in a tone of condescension that immediately puts you on edge. 

“What’s it to you?” you hiss, still not daring to look at him. 

He scoffs, “You went and found yourself a little toy to play with awfully fast. Seems your interest in me wore off quickly, no?”

That gets you to finally turn around, meeting his cold, indifferent gaze with your hot, teary one. You miss the look of surprise that flashes over his face.

“What is your problem?” you snap, “You rejected me, what the hell do you care what I do? And for your information, the date was shit. He was shit, like I should have expected any difference. God, I really am a fucking idiot,” you find yourself rambling, a lamenting spiel that you can’t seem to stop no matter how badly you want to, “Just like every prick before him, he was selfish and revolting. I thought I could finally get fucking laid and just call it a day but no, my stupid standards are too high and I find myself asking out the hot older guy in my building only for him to find me revolting!”

By the time you’re done ranting, the doors open and you storm out of the elevator, angrily gripping your bag of groceries. König is frozen where he stands, watching you leave as the doors slowly close – almost begging him to put his hand between them and stop them so he can chase after you. 

But he doesn’t.

It’s creeping up on midnight when there’s a knock on your apartment door. You’re curled up on the couch, watching some random show that you weren’t really invested in but couldn’t be bothered to change. 

The knock makes you jump, startled, but get up nonetheless. A quick peek in the peephole tells you exactly who it is before you even open it. 

You briefly consider not opening it period but find yourself opening it before you actually settle on a decision. 

König stands in front of you, a bouquet of flowers clutched in his hand, looking comically small. The sight is almost enough to get you to crack a smile. Almost.

But the residual hurt from the last few interactions you’ve had with him is enough to keep you stoic. You raise a brow and you practically see his confidence falter. A pang of guilt goes through you at the sight and you step aside, waving him in with a quiet huff. 

He closes the door behind him softly, kicking his boots off as he watches you wander into the living room. You take a seat on your couch, covering yourself with your throw blanket once again as you watch him wander in, gazing around at your decor before finally settling on you. 

“Um…” He clears his throat nervously and places the flowers on your coffee table, “I think that we should talk…”

“Should we?” you quip back.

He sighs, broad shoulders heaving with the movement before he takes a seat beside you, taking up a hefty amount of space on your small couch. 

“I want to apologize,” he says softly, folding his hands in his lap, “When you asked me out…I-I should not have spoken to you like that.”

You huff, crossing your arms over your chest, “If that’s all this is about, König, then you can go. I-I don’t really want to hear a half-assed apology about the way you rejected me. You’re not interested, let’s just move on from it. I’ll get over it.”

He shakes his head quickly and curses under his breath, a word you don’t understand – German, your brain supplies, helpfully.

“You are wrong,” he says, “I do not want you to get over it because I am interested.”

The gets you to perk up, eyes wide, “What do you mean? You said you–”

“I know what I said,” he mutters, “I am…twice your age…”

“So you mentioned before…” you reply.

“I do not think…you should be with someone old like me,” he continues softly, “You should be with someone your own age. That is what I thought. It is not that I don’t find you attractive; I think you’re sweet and lovely. But it's just…our age difference…”

“König,” you stop him from continuing, “I’m capable of making my own decisions.”

“I understand that but…” he trails off, casting a sideways glance across the room, away from you.

“I’ve tried dating men my own age, König,” you say, “It always ends the same – I send them home blue balled.”

He huffs out a laugh through his nose and finally sets his gaze back on you, “Why do you do that?”

“I don’t plan to…” you begin, running your hand along the soft fabric of your blanket, “it’s just that...I bring them home and then we start getting into it and it fucking sucks!”

“Sucks..?” The question is soft and drawn out. 

“He wants to fuck my throat and won’t even give me his fingers before trying to stick his dick in,” you spit, angrily glaring at the tv as you remember all your shit encounters, “I’ve never even let one of them go all the way.”

“You’re a virgin…?” he asks.

You shrug your shoulders, “I guess. I mean I’ve had shitty oral and stuff but…”

“I see…” he trails off, shifting in his seat, hands still folded in his lap, “Well, I would like to take you out for a date after all.”

You find a smile spreading across your face faster than you can stop it. You jump to your knees and throw your arms around his shoulders with a squeal of happiness, “Really? You mean it?”

He laughs breathlessly, a husky little sound that makes your heart race, “Does this weekend work for you?”

You eagerly nod your head and lean in. You catch the way his eyes widen briefly before your lips meet. You think he’s going to pull away from you but instead he cups the back of your head and deepens the kiss. 

You feel a shiver go through you at the feeling of his big, strong hand holding you there in the kiss. You couldn’t keep yourself from getting wet even if you wanted to. 

With your hands pressed against his firm chest, you toss one leg over his lap and find yourself seated on top of him. He breaks the kiss at that, hands migrating to your waist where he mindlessly strokes his thumb over the skin exposed by the way your shirt rode up.

You lean down and kiss him again and he groans against your mouth. You grind down against him in response to the throb that makes your pussy clench around nothing. You whimper into the kiss when he suddenly stops your movements with a firm grip. 

“We shouldn’t, liebling,” he whispers softly.

“Why not?” you whine, settling in his lips. You briefly realize that you can feel something hard beneath you and that makes you start dripping in your panties, “Don’t you want to?”

“I-I do…” he assures, “I just…want to properly court you…”

He couldn’t get any sweeter if he tried. Still, you quip back with a teasing little smile, “Wow, you are a lot older than me, huh?”

You feel giddy when the sweet look in his eyes melts away into something darker. One hand clasps the back of your head before he pulls you in for a much rougher kiss. You keen as you feel the way he exudes experience – the kiss like nothing you have ever experienced before. 

The way he moves his lips and slips his tongue into your mouth to taste your mouth, it’s not gross or too much the way it sometimes is with men who don’t know what they’re doing.you find yourself moaning into the kiss before you even realize it. 

He pulls away at that, a heady look in his pretty, blue eyes. You find yourself briefly lamenting the loss of his mouth but that thought disappears quickly when he moves to begin peppering kisses along the length of your neck, making sure to nip at your jaw and kiss your shoulder. 

He tugs the hem of your t-shirt down just a bit so he can have access to your collar bones, nipping and kissing there as well. Your head falls back as you surrender yourself to him completely. 

“Oh,” he coos softly, lips brushing against your ear, “You are just so sweet for me, aren’t you, little one?”

You practically whimper at his words as his hands slip under the hem of your shirt, fingertips barely grazing your skin. You squirm in his lap as his touch tickles you on his way up to your breasts, skirting over your ribs before fully cupping them in his roughened palms. 

You sigh into the quiet room, arching your back to press deeper into his hands. His thumbs graze over your nipples and you moan. 

Sure, you’ve had guys grope your tits before but it had never felt like this. The mindless squishing and squeezing was replaced with soft cupping and gentle brushes over your nipples until they hardened followed by pinches and flicks that left you absolutely dripping in your panties.

He takes mercy on you quickly, one hand sliding down your body to slide under your sweatpants and beneath your panties. Your hands grip his shoulders, blunt nails biting into them when one broad finger slides down, the sticky noise of your folds separating enough to send heat rushing to your cheeks.

“You’re so wet,” he whispers in a tone so soft you almost think it wasn’t meant for you, but then he tacks on, “Do you hear it?” 

“Y-Yeah,” you whimper, embarrassment flooding through you at the sticky, clicking noises that come along with his prodding, “N-Never been this wet before, König…”

That causes him to pause, blue eyes gazing at you through his eyelashes, “Is that so..?” You desperately nod your head, slowly beginning to rock your hips against his hand, but he doesn’t move again and you whine, “Has anyone ever made you cum on their fingers?”

“J-Just me,” you answer breathlessly without a second thought. 

He hums thoughtfully and after a second, he begins moving his hand again. This time he introduces more fingers, spreading your folds apart with his index and ring so he can pet your hardened clit with his middle. The feeling makes tremors run through your body and he huffs a laugh, “I guess I will show you what it feels like then, yeah?”

He doesn’t give you a moment to think let alone answer before his middle finger is sliding into you. The one digit alone is enough to stretch you, given how massive he is in whole. He crooks his finger forward and a moan rips from your chest when he hits that gooey little spot inside you. 

“A-Another, please, König!” you beg shamelessly.

“Shh,” he hushes, shaking his head, “Let me work you open on this and then you can have more.”

You practically wail in despair, letting your forehead drop forward onto his shoulder. You suddenly wish you had rid yourself of your clothes so you could see the way his hand worked against you. All you could see now was the faint movement under your pants but the mental image of that thick finger inside you, slick with your juices was enough to have you clenching desperately around him. 

After a moment, he adds a second finger and you feel like you’re in heaven. The stretch is phenomenal and his palm bumps against your clit every time he sinks them into the last knuckle. 

However, before he can set a rhythm to really start getting you off, he stops. You angrily lean back and glare at him – the sight has his lips quirking up.

“Ride my fingers,” he orders you, leaving no room for arguing.

You can tell he’s not going to give you anything unless you take it for yourself so you sit up higher on your knees so you can have the clearance to move. Your hands remain on his shoulders, clinging to him for stability as you clumsily begin to rock your hips. The only time you’ve ever done these movements is when you tried humping your pillow once after seeing it in some porn. It didn’t really do much for you so you never tried again. 

König can tell your movements are clumsy and it makes his cock throb against his thigh. He helps you along, crooking his fingers just right to grind the tips against that sweet little spot inside you. It makes you moan beautifully and he files the noise away. 

His other hand comes up to grip your hip, steadying you as you continue to hump his fingers. You’re growing more and more frustrated as you quickly realize that you’re not able to make it feel as good as he had earlier. The tearful little gaze you give him has him breaking, using the hand on your hip guiding you into more seamless movements. 

“Like this, liebling,” he directs softly, “Grind down like that, mhm, give that little clit some love, yeah?”

You become increasingly breathless as you work yourself higher and higher under his expert guidance. He can feel your juices dripping down his wrist, the snug hold around his fingers growing even tighter with every little rut of your hips. 

“You’re so precious,” he coos, feeling the way you clench up at the sound of his voice. Your body is so honest, telling him what you like without you having to say anything, “You’re going to cum, I can feel it. Be good and give it to me, yeah?”

You surge forward and desperately kiss him, one hand reaching down and gripping his wrist. It takes only a few more, desperate thrusts of your hips for you to topple over that edge. Your body trembles on his lap and you cry out in pleasure. 

He moans alongside you, watching with rapt attention as you cum all over his fingers just like he told you to.

You slump against him as you come down and he pulls his hands out of your pants. He presses a kiss against your temple in silent praise, hands rubbing your back to soothe you through the aftershocks that run through your body.

You lean back and meet his gaze, an opportunity he takes to slip his cum-soaked fingers into his mouth. At that, you surge forward and kiss him, running your hands down his body to pull at the button of his jeans. He grunts into your mouth, brows furrowing at the release of pressure when you tug the zipper down.

You’re absolutely speechless when you finally pull his cock free. He watches in poorly concealed pride as you gawk at the length in your hand. You give him a slow and tedious tug, watching the foreskin roll over his head, forcing a bead of precum from the tip. 

“You’re so…big,” you whisper breathlessly.

“I know,” he grunts, unable to hide the ebbs of pleasure you give him as you play with his cock.

“Cocky,” you tease softly, continuing with your soft touches. 

“N-Not cocky,” he whispers, licking his suddenly dry hips, “Just aware of my size.”

You drop your eyes back down to his cock, hot and heavy in your hand. Your fingers don't even touch each other when wrapped around him. Precum drips from the tip, leaking down the side to meet your palm and aid in the movements. 

He leans his head back against the couch, closing his eyes and furrowing his brows. It wasn’t often that he got to indulge in someone else’s hand. Your palm was so soft, much softer than his own, and delicate in your inexperience. 

He reaches down with one his hands, wrapping around yours to make you squeeze tighter, “Just like that, little one, that’s how I like it.”

You could have drooled as he said it. His hand dwarfed yours and the sight made you clench around nothing, more slick leaking into your already ruined panties. 

“Let me see you, liebling,” he whispers breathlessly, fingers hooking on the hem of your top.

You release his cock to lift your arms, letting him tug the fabric over your head. His hands are on your tits immediately, mouthing at your nipples without wasting a second.

“So pretty,” he coos with his mouth full, rolling his tongue over your nipple before nipping the bud with his lips.

He switches to the other one, wrapping his mouth around it, sucking sharply before pulling back, taking your nipple with him before releasing it with a pop. You watch with lidded eyes as he drools all over your tits. His cock flexes and twitches against your thigh as he plays with your tits.

Suddenly, with a firm grip on your waist, your whole world flips and you find yourself on your back on the couch with König on top of you. You lick your lips at the sight of his big, broad form hovering above you, caging you in as he leans down to kiss you again.

You sigh contentedly into his mouth, threading your fingers through his short, messy hair, using the grip to pin him against you. He lets you kiss him to your heart's content, only pulling back when you need air – a string of spit connecting your lips that breaks when he leans back between your thighs. 

His fingers took into the band of your pants, tugging them down, taking your panties with them until you’re completely bared before him. He’s still completely clothed aside from his cock that rests against his abdomen, occasionally twitching as his eyes rake over your nude body.

“Tell me, liebling,” he says, strong hands running up the length of your thighs, “Has anyone ever eaten you out?”

You clumsily nod your head.

“Was it good?” he asks, biting back a smile when you shake your head.

“Guys always think it’s gross or something…” you whisper softly.

He hums softly, “That is because you’ve been messing with stupid little boys.”

“You gonna eat me out, König?” you ask him, biting your lip in a poorly concealed excited grin.

“Would you like me to?” as he asks, he slowly spreads your legs open. The position causes your folds to spread apart, opening you up for his greedy eyes.

You feel your breathing speed up as he kisses down your body, starting with your lips and ending right above your clit. You feel the little bud twitch in anticipation as he tongues the skin above it, giving you a sneak peek on what is so close to it. 

“Tell me,” he says.

You whine, “Y-Yes, I want you to eat me out, König!”

He chuckles softly but doesn’t bother teasing you anymore. He meets your gaze and moves his tongue lower finally, sliding the flat of the muscle of your clit. You gasp and toss your head back into the cushions, eyes rolling back as he noisily slurps at your cunt. 

“O-Oh god!” you wail, hiccuping out noises of pleasure that you can’t seem to quiet.

König is in heaven. It’s not every day that he gets the opportunity to eat such a pretty, inexperienced little cunt. Your reactions to everything are so strong and loud. Your pussy is loud too, squelching in the room, making an intoxicating melody with your moans. He moans against you, swallowing down everything your messy little pussy drools out for him.

“Th-That feels so good, König!” you sob, kicking your feet mindlessly against his back as he captures your clit in his mouth, suckling at the bud, “You’re so good, so good, oh god!”

Never in a million years did you think being eaten out could feel this good. The mindlessly, halfhearted licks and kisses you had received in the past did nothing to prepare you for what it felt like to really have a man’s tongue on you. 

He pulls away suddenly, giving you a moment to actually breathe, “You taste so sweet, liebling.”

“König…” you whimper, looking up at him with lidded eyes, “Please, please don’t stop.”

You tug at his hair and attempt to pull his mouth back down on your pussy. You don’t care how pathetic and desperate it is, he has given you a taste of pleasure you’d never experienced before.

He has the audacity to laugh at you, brushing your hands away so he can sit up straight again. He scoots closer and you realize then that he is not planning to continue and it practically draws a sob out of you. 

“We can focus on that another time, liebling,” he promises, making you clench around nothing, more slick dribbling out for him to see, “You are so messy, you know that? Never had someone make such a mess all over me before. You must really enjoy being eaten out, huh?”

You feel your face burn hot with shame at his words, shyly hiding your face away. He smiles softly at that, “Nothing to be ashamed of, liebling…I love it, I do.”

“Really?” you quiver out the question and he nods his head.

“Yes, little one,” he coos, “I’m glad that I can make it feel good for you.”

You practically feel hearts in your eyes as he says that. You don’t think you’ve ever had a man tell you that he actually cared and enjoyed your pleasure. That was the final nail in the coffin for you – you really should have been going after older men all this time.

He disrupts your thoughts by suddenly stripping his shirt off. Your mouth goes completely dry at the sight of his bared skin – firm muscle, hair speckled all over his torso, and numerous scars from untold stories of his time in the military. You take note of the faded tattoos that become visible on his pecs and biceps; you’d always noticed the tattoos on his arms but you’d never really been given the opportunity to look. 

“You’re so handsome,” you whisper.

He pauses while ridding himself of his jeans and smiles, “Thank you, little one.”

When he’s completely bare to you, you slowly rake your eyes down the entirety of his newly exposed body. His cock hangs heavy under its own weight, glimmering at the tip with his precum. You’d never been with a guy who was uncut but the sight made you drool. 

“Now, liebling,” he says suddenly, getting your attention. He scoots closer, spreading your legs as wide as he can before laying the hefty weight of his cock against your cunt. It’s hot and throbbing and your entire body trembles at the sight, “You have to understand something.”

“What..?” you ask, breathless and unable to look away from his cock. 

“I am not like those little boys you were running around with,” he explains, hips slowly beginning to rut against you, length parting your folds and rubbing over your clit, drawing a sweet little moan from you, “I don’t stick my cock in a tight little cunt and blow my load, do you know what I’m saying?”

You shake your head, too lost in the sight and feeling of him practically fucking the outside of your pussy. He doesn’t stop the mind-numbing rolls of his hips, letting you get lost in the feeling of him stroking over your clit, saturating him in your cum. 

“That means,” he sighs, reaching up to grip your throat, forcing you to look at him as he leaned over your body, sandwiching his cock between the two of you, “I don’t cum easily, liebling. I am a grown man, I will fuck you until you cannot cum anymore. Are you prepared for that?”

The fact this man was so confident in his abilities in bed has you clenching around nothing again. You were sure the guys you almost slept with would never have been able to have the pure confidence that came from König. He knew what he was doing – he knew how to make you cum and he was going to use that experience well. You knew his age played a factor in how long it would take him to cum and you couldn’t wait to experience it.

“I want it so bad, König,” you beg softly, “Please?”

“Very good,” he praised, “You’re so good for me.”

He finally gripped the base of his cock and you watched excitedly as he pressed the tip against your entrance. You reached down and wrapped your arms around your knees, pulling them back for him so he could comfortably begin pressing into you.

The stretch is beyond anything you’d ever felt before. You knew his cock was big but watching the bulbous tip press against you and slowly spread you wide open was something else entirely. It burned in a way that had you wincing, furrowed brows making your face pinch up, making König pause. 

“It’s okay, little one,” he whispers, bringing a big thumb up to roll over your hard little clit, “Just relax for me, don’t clench up or it will hurt more.”

“I-It’s so big, König!” you wail helplessly, tearily staring up at him as he methodically works you open on his cock.

“I know,” he assures, still stroking your clit with the pad of his thumb, “But you can take it.”

You tearfully nod your head and do your best to relax your body, letting yourself sink into the couch. 

“Good, liebling, very good,” he coos, “Just let me in, nice and slow. Doesn’t it feel nice? The little burn of being stretched open but the pleasure of having this pretty little clit played with? Just lay back and enjoy it, little one.”

He’s right, of course. The burn aches, yes, but the pain and pleasure mixes the more he rubs your clit. You clench around him, an involuntary reaction that causes the head of his cock to finally pop in. Your eyes widen as you watch your cunt swallow it and with a perfectly timed tap against your clit, your back arches and you’re cumming.

“O-Oh König!” you squeal, eyes rolling back into your head as you cum around the head of his cock and nothing else.

“Oh, that’s good,” he grins, “That’s perfect, little one.”

As you come down with a tremble in your thighs, you finally fix your gaze on him once again.His eyes are lidded and pupils are blown so wide you can’t even tell they’re blue anymore. 

“That looked like a good one,” he comments almost flippantly before he rolls his hips forward, “Now you’re nice and ready for me.”

You choke on a gasp as he rolls his hips forward, fitting half of his cock inside your still spasming cunt. Your cum coats him in a slick sheen that aides in allowing him to pull back and slide back in, settling on fucking you on half his cock.

Your mouth falls open and you watch as a thick, milky ring forms around that fat middle part of his shaft, “M-More, König! Please!”

He knows you want all of him, want to know what it’s like to feel all of him stuffed deep inside you. But he knows you’re not quite ready for that yet, fucked out of your head from the intense orgasm he had just given you with ease.

“Not yet, liebling,” he coos, keeping his pace slow and steady, “Let’s work you open a little bit more, yeah?”

“No,” you whine, “Please, I want it all, König.”

“Aww, I know you do, little one,” he pants, already feeling dizzy from spearing you on his cock, “But I know what’s good for you, just listen to me and be good, okay?”

“Okay…” you pitifully whimper, sinking back into the couch. 

You abandon your hold on your legs, letting them rest around his hips limply now. He continues moving like that, inching deeper and deeper into you with every thrust. Your cunt makes embarrassingly loud squishing noises the move he works his hips against you. 

Before you know it, you’re watching with wide eyes and an open mouth as his pelvis presses against yours. Your eyes roll back in your head and your toes curl in pure pleasure as you finally experience the entirety of everything König has to offer. 

You’re speared wide open and the head knocks against your cervix painfully but the little bit of pain only makes the pleasure that much sweeter. 

“There we go, little one,” he coos sweetly, “I’m so proud of you, took all of my cock so well.”

He’s so big that he presses against every sweet little spot inside you without even trying. But, oh, his experience is crystal clear in the way he moves. He may be naturally gifted with a nice, fat cock but he knew how to use it.

Seamless, rhythmic thrusts had your brain going fuzzy before you even knew what was happening. You wouldn’t have been able to be quiet even if you wanted to. You knew you would be absolutely horrified to face your neighbors later because it would be impossible for them to not know you got fucked real good. 

Suddenly, König leaned over you, resting one forearm above your head to hold his weight off of you. The position caused his pelvis against your clit every time he sunk balls deep. Sticky strings of your cum stuck to his skin but he didn’t seem to even notice how wet you were.

But, oh, he did. He was absolutely obsessed with the way you creamed and gushed around him. A nice, pliant little pussy that was more than eager to swallow every inch of his cock.

The change in position had you grappling onto him, wrapping your arms around his neck as you wailed into his shoulder. Every mind-numbing snap of his hips hit that gooey, tender spot inside you that had your entire body twitching from the pleasurable stimulation. Your nails bit into his back and he briefly thought about the prospect of his recruits seeing them. 

“Are you going to cum for me?” he whispered in your ear, pressing a sweet kiss underneath your ear.

You nod your head, “Y-Yes! You’re gonna make me c-cum again, König!”

He chuckles under his breath, “I know I am, little one. I’m going to make you squirt.”

“C-Can’t,” you heave, twitchy legs kicking against his back.

“Yes, you can,” he assures, leaning away to sit up once again, “I can make you squirt, trust me.”

The whine you emit pitches into a squeal when he presses his palm against your lower stomach. You reached down in a panic to grab his wrist, not used to the strange feeling of him pressing down while he fucks you. 

“W-Wait!” you wail.

“Wait for what?” he asks, but doesn’t slow even a bit in his movements.

“F-Feels weird!” you gasp, hiccuping as you squeeze his wrist. 

“I know,” he grunts, brows furrowing at the feeling of you clenching around him, “It’s supposed to. Just lay back and let it happen, liebling. I’ve got you.”

Your whole body trembles and your jaw drops as you meet his gaze, a look of wonder crossing your face as you feel an orgasm like you’ve never felt before crash over your body. It’s long, drawn out and almost painful from how good it feels. You squeeze tight around him, your clit twitching and pulsing, completely untouched as he makes you squirt. It splashes against his abdomen and drips down his thighs. 

“There we go,” he laughs, a sound that sends a flush of embarrassment to your face, “See? I told you you could do it.”

“König…” you slur, feeling as if you’ve been fucked completely braindead.

It finally dawned on you that you would never, ever be fucked by anyone as good as König has fucked you. The first cock you’ve ever been stuffed full of and he made you squirt with terrifying ease. You were completely ruined, no dick would ever be able to compare to his. 

He sees the way your gaze turns completely enamored, looking at him like he hung the moon and stars. He grins, sharp canines poking out as he leans down again, kissing your temple.

“What is it, baby?” he coos, “Dick so good it’s got you in love?”

You keen at the pure condescension that drips from his voice. But he’s not wrong, you can practically feel the hearts in your eyes as you gaze up at him.

You have no idea how long you’ve been pinned beneath him, speared open on his cock while he fucks you absolutely stupid. You notice the change in him quite suddenly. His deep, concentrated thrust changed into something less calculated, messy almost. He loses his rhythm and falters in his pace.

“I’m going to cum, liebling,” he grunts, tone pitchy and gruff, “Where do you want it?”

“Inside!” you immediately cry, not missing a beat. He sees your eyes light up at the prospect of being filled up completely by his cum. You’re so sure it’s going to be a lot, you want to feel it drip out of you as a reminder that he had claimed you.

“Is it safe?” he huffs, but you can feel his cock twitch inside you at the idea of cumming inside you.

You desperately nod your head and he allows himself to fall over that edge. He teeters on his knees before collapsing with his hands on either side of your head. He no longer tries to thrust, settling for desperate, deep grinds that stirs his cock within your walls. Your eyes roll back in your head at the feeling, another orgasm washing over you before you even realize you’re that close.

“Oh, fuck,” König gasps, voice breaking as your orgasm sends him over the edge.

You’re panting and whimpering, trembling as you feel the heat of his load filling you up. His cock twitches with every spurt of cum. It’s the best orgasm he’s had in a long time, his balls throbbing with every pump of cum his cock spits out. 

It oozes from around the tight seal you have around him, dripping onto the couch. He’s trembling by the time the intense orgasm comes to an end. He opened his eyes, not even realizing he had closed them, to see you sleepily staring up at him with a dazed smile on your lips.

“Mein Gott…” he huffs out, lowering his body to press his lips against yours sweetly, “That was incredible, liebling.”

You beam under his praise and wrap your arms around his neck, “It was, wasn’t it?”

He chuckles and strokes his thumb against your cheek, “Let’s get cleaned up, yeah?”

“Sounds good,” you agree.

The care he gives you afterwards is like nothing you’ve ever experienced. He wipes your body down gently, careful not to rub your skin too hard. He stands with you in the shower, towering over you as he lathers your exhausted body with soap. 

“Can we do that again sometime?” You ask softly when he crawls into bed beside you – which you were shocked about, but didn’t complain.

He raises a brow and chuckles, “Yes, liebling. But not right now, I could not go another round so soon.”

You giggle and snuggle into his broad chest, practically preening when he wraps you up snug against him. You sigh softly and speak up again, “Can we…still go on that date..?”

He’s quiet for a moment before you feel a kiss on the top of your head, “Of course, liebling. I would love to.”

You smile to yourself and close your eyes, content to fall asleep wrapped up in his arms. The last thing you feel before you succumb to sleep is another soft kiss against your head. You realize, sleepily, that you’ve never felt more cared for by a man in your life.

property of rowarn; do not modify, repost, or translate.

[phantom-of-the-memes]

Since I’ve been making posts about American/ British entitlement towards Ireland, I thought I’d talk about this video here.

I am a student at this college. It’s a big tourist attraction for many reasons, but the main one being that the book of Kells is kept here. I am also from Kells itself, but Dublin having the book and not Kells is a whole other issue.

So this protest that’s been happening over the the past few weeks is in response to the college once again raising rents for student accommodation to astronomical rates. That being when rent in Dublin (and Ireland as a whole) is already unliveable. You’d find cheaper rent off student accommodation, but it’s hardly easy to find places like this. As well as this, the majority of the student accommodation isn’t even on campus to begin with. Most are about a 45 minute luas journey away. So what the fuck are you paying for?

This protest is necessary. It’s been a long time coming. Time and time again they prioritise tourists over us. Buildings are old and falling apart, equipment isn’t functional, accessibility is god awful. I know this because I am disabled and use a rollator, but I can’t even use it on campus most days because there’s simply no ramps/ elevators in some buildings.

In one of my lectures last week we were in one of the old buildings. We had a lot of content to cover, but of course the projector wasn’t working. The professor spent fourty minutes trying to get the computer/ projector to work, but to no avail. So we have a whole lecture to catch up on! All of this while I was looking out the window at this atrocity:

A new building for tourists! Yay!

They’ve been building new school buildings for years, but of course instead of finishing them, they’ll spend their time and money on the tourists. I’m not even having an exam in one of my modules because they told the professor that there simply isn’t enough room to host our class for the exam. And it would be “too expensive” to book a venue… it’s only a class of about thirty. He had written a whole exam and we were under the impression we’d have one, but now it’s just continuous assessment I guess!

So you have to understand why we’re not exactly jumping for joy for the tourists. There are hundreds on campus everyday, just generally being annoying and entitled. And yes DISCLAIMER; not all tourists, not all Americans/ British people, blah, blah. But from my experience, you do encounter some obnoxious people everyday.

So that’s why they blocked entrance to the book of Kells. That’s why it’s disgusting for the tourists to be arguing with them and demanding entrance. For once we just want our college to prioritise us! So yeah we will revoke your entitlement, because we are the ones who study here, we are the ones who have to LIVE here.

[ssahotchnerr]

okay but when the team actually starts calling the reader and aaron mom and dad behind their backs and one day someone lets it slip out in front of them??

i just… aaron’s reaction?????

the parentals

i love this dynamic SO MUCH cw; fem!bau!reader, established relationship, fluff <3

as you and aaron entered the bullpen, you were both quick to notice the others huddled around spencer's desk, surely for a new session of physics magic.

a smile immediately twitched at aaron's lips, tossing you a mischievous look. as long as it didn't make a mess, or a disruption - per his and reid's previous discussions - he really didn't mind the recurring demonstrations.

but would he ever miss an opportunity to get the blood rushing in this scenario - never.

"be nice." you teased, laughing softly under your breath as you followed him over.

"i'm always nice." aaron playfully insisted, those brown eyes flickering in that way that just melted your heart. "what do you mean?"

"better be careful," emily's warning came into earshot as you neared, completely oblivious to the two of you - the timing just perfect. "or else dad's gonna ground you."

aaron's expression quirked at the title, his eyebrows lightly furrowing.

"oh please," spencer said, his fingers making quick work of whatever the experiment happened to be. "he's too busy with mom-"

jj's eyes happened to lift right at mom, made direct eye contact with you, and immediately choked back a laugh. some horror timidly filled her eyes, and she didn't cover up her sound too adequately. it caused the others to instantly look up too, and freeze.

"busted." jj mumbled, her gaze finding the ground.

aaron's smile resurfaced, crossing his arms. his tone was playful, yet confused and utterly amused nonetheless. "dad?"

spencer flushed. "uh..."

"oh c'mon. cut the crap." emily interrupted with an eye roll, looking between the two of you. "like it's not shocking at this point. just look at what the two of you were about to do, lecture us-"

"hey no," with a laugh you cut in, arching an eyebrow. "i don't lecture."

"exactly. he does," emily crossed her arms also with a smitten smirk - her point thoroughly exhibited. "you're the flexible one. see, mom and dad."

"i always thought rossi was dad." aaron expressed openly, a small chuckle shaking through his chest.

"no, you were always dad," jj shook her head, "rossi was mom, until," once again, her eyes found yours, smiling softly this time. "until someone else came around, and took on the role wholeheartedly."

you grinned, exchanging a quick, loving glance with aaron. "what's dave now, then?"

"old."

[tonycries]

Go For It, Gojo! - G.S.

Synopsis. You wouldn’t fuck Gojo Satoru even if you were paid… …is what you thought exactly five minutes before you were shoved against the wall of this cramped closet, his face stuffed in your soaked panties.

Pairing. Gojo Satoru x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, academic rivals to lovers, student president! reader, unprotected sex, banter about physics, cunnilingus, oral sex (male + female), 7 minutes in heaven, college! AU, 69, Satoru is a tease down bad for you (and has a big dick), overstimulation, pet names (sweetheart, hardass), swearing.

Word count. 10.2k

A/N. I really don’t like physics. Art by @_3aem on X.

Life truly has an awful sense of humor - almost as bad as Gojo’s, which you discovered on the first day of Advanced Quantum Physics. 

The air charged with nervous energy and the scent of freshly printed syllabi, you quickly snag a seat right at the front row of Professor Yaga’s class. 

Ah, you’ll never forget how peaceful those few seconds to yourself after introductions were - before the devil incarnate dramatically swung open those lecture hall doors and plopped himself down right next to you. Late. 

“Any closer to Yaga and you’d be fucking his wife, y’know.” a voice hums from beside you, shattering your daydreams of passing this class with flying colors and riding a wave of glory into becoming a Nobel prize-winning physicist. 

With a slight scowl, you turn your attention to the source of disturbance - only to meet eyes with (self-proclaimed) campus sweetheart, Satoru Gojo, leaning on his chair with an air of nonchalance. At your silence, he repeats, “I said any closer-”

“I heard what you said.” you snap, irritation flaring at the amused twinkle in his blue eyes and the mirthful grin that spreads across his lips at your reaction. “Doesn’t erase the fact that you’re sitting here too.” you raise a brow.

“Oh me? That’s because I’m already fucking his wife, sweetheart.” he deadpans with a blank expression. 

What? The tense silence that follows is deafening - for the first time ever in your life, you were shocked into speechlessness. 

A beat passes. One. Two. Before Gojo bursts into hysterics, clutching his stomach. “You- you shoulda seen the look on your face- HAHAHA-” he gets out between uncontrollable laughs. Face burning, you train your eyes forward and will yourself to not glance at the 6’3 mess cackling beside you.

Ugh. Deep breaths. Deep breaths. Just think happy thoughts - kittens, quantum mechanics, being valedictorian. Desperately attempting to block out the giggling thorn at your side, you recoil at Professor Yaga’s extremely disapproving look in your direction. 

Panicking, and dreams of being his ace student slowly flushing down the drain, you quickly flip through your notes, attempting to catch up to where the lecture had now started. 

“Looks like we’re in trouble, partner~” Gojo’s dramatic stage-whisper catches the attention of students around you, them chuckling at your expense. 

“Hey, you’re the student president, right? Hey~ Heyyy prez~” As Professor Yaga continues his spiel about the syllabus, you continue to very obviously ignore the incessant comments that spill out of Gojo’s lips, to stifled laughs from his fast-forming entourage. 

The harder you tried to focus on Professor Yaga’s words, the louder and more absurd Gojo’s comments became - as if he’d made it his personal mission to enrage you. A sense of impending doom looming over you, you glare at him with a look that could’ve melted steel, hissing out, “Do you ever in your life shut the fuck up?”

Eyes widening in mock innocence, he grins “Oh~ I didn't know our student prez could get so feisty. Maybe I should take notes instead of doodling hearts around your name in my notebook.”

Ears ringing in embarrassment and frustration, and mind a whirlwind of how bad it would really be if you killed Gojo right here, you almost miss Professor Yaga’s question, “Now, would anyone here be able to discuss the interpretations in the debate between the Copenhagen interpretation and the Pilot-Wave theory?”

Teetering on the edge of your seat, you raise your hand, scrambling to salvage whatever is left of your academic reputation. You and- Gojo?

You start at the call of your name from Professor Yaga, “The Copenhagen Interpretation uses Heisenberg's uncertainty principle and emphasizes measurement to state that quantum-level particles can act as both waves and particles. It’s the most widely accepted and pragmatic theory.”

Gojo basically falls out of his seat in eagerness to answer after you.

“Ah, yes, Mr. Gojo.” 

You internally groan, ready for whatever bullshit was about to come out of his mouth. 

With a deep breath, “Not to be the devil’s advocate but the Pilot-Wave theory makes way more sense practically.”

Professor Yaga raises an intrigued eyebrow at Gojo’s statement, the class collectively holds a breath - as if awaiting the impending academic battlefield.

Gojo, with a cocky grin, plows on, “Think about it. The Pilot-Wave theory suggests that particles have definite positions and paths, unlike the uncertainty principle of the Copenhagen Interpretation. It's like predicting where a ball will land after you throw it, rather than saying it could be anywhere until you look."

Oh? He wasn’t a complete idiot?

Yet, you roll your eyes, “But the Pilot-Wave theory is too fanciful, it brings in too many hidden variables that have their own set of problems. It goes against the measurements and principles of locality!”

Unbothered by the challenge, Gojo leans back further in his chair, “What’s a couple complications? It’s a lot clearer on a microscopic level, none of that weird uncertainty of the Copenhagen Interpretation.”

Irritation running through your veins, you scoff at his condescending tone, “It might seem intuitive, but experiments and observations support the probabilistic nature of quantum mechanics.” You’re almost out of your chair at this point, an accusing finger pointed at Gojo. “Despite its weirdness, the Copenhagen Interpretation has proven successful in predicting outcomes.” 

“Oh yeah? And it’s also only used by hardasses that just want to shut up and calculate, sweetheart.”

“Big talk for a little bi-” 

“OKAY STUDENTS, that’s enough for now. Let’s put a pin in this discussion and move on with the topic.” Professor Yaga, who had been watching the debate with amusement, promptly ends it once you two begin to get overly heated. 

The rest of the class, on the edge of their seats and probably hoping for some fists swinging between the academic titans, now sit back in disappointment at the fight cut off early. 

You sit back in indignation, fuming at how Gojo had gotten you so worked up. And he was wrong too! 

The lecture continues as if you two were never two curse words away from each other’s throats. 

But, in the midst of it all, your glare meets blue, sparkling with amusement - a jolt of electricity runs through your body at the glint of recognition of the other’s brilliance. An unspoken yet undeniable competition.

You’ve avoided Gojo like the plague for the past few months since then - which isn’t doing much when said plague follows you around everywhere with incessant calls of “Hey, hardass prez~”. The only time you seek him out being to gloatingly show off the large, red “100” on your tests - to which, unfortunately, he does the same. 

It’s stupid. It’s childish. Honestly, sometimes you think he just tries to get under your skin for the hell of it.

But you don’t have the time to think too deeply into that.

Just like you don’t have time for this frat party. 

Music and alcohol thrumming through your veins, it’s always the same thing. You’d rather be holed up getting ahead of your physics textbook than be here. Yet, you owed a favor to your friend Haibara - and he’d been bugging you to come to this party for weeks now. 

You’ll just stay another hour then leave, you sigh.

Zoning out as Haibara plays an overly-intense game of beer pong, you’re startled by an arm around your shoulder. “Well, well, well, if it isn’t our lil’ prez looking like she’d rather peel paint than be here.” The expensive cologne hits you before the realization of who this was. “Drooling over the jocks? I recommend the STEM majors, sweetheart, jocks aren’t that great in bed.”

Quickly shrugging off his arm, you scowl, “Not like STEM majors are any better. And unlike some people, I have goals beyond being the life of the party.”

Decked out in slacks and a slightly too-unbuttoned shirt, Gojo chuckles, “Yeah, like what? Banishing fun?” Cerulean eyes gleaming with mischief, “You gotta let loose for once, sweetheart. Not everything in life is about academics and accolades.”

You scoff, rolling your eyes “Well not like I-” but whatever snarky retort gets caught in your throat as Gojo seizes your hand, effortlessly pulling you onto the dance floor. 

Caught off guard, you can do nothing more than sputter in surprise as he leans down to murmur in your ear, above the bass reverberating the walls, “C’mon hardass, sometimes in life, you just gotta- dance!” 

Gojo spins you into a dramatic dip, his silver chain brushing your face and his hand on your back burning into your skin.

Your cheeks burn in embarrassment - yeah, embarrassment - as the people around you cheer in amusement at the science department’s biggest rivals navigating the dance floor with surprising chemistry.

This was ridiculous. And yet, music ringing in your ears, you almost crack a smile. Almost. That is until your eye catches Haibara’s surprised ones from the side of the dance floor. Wait - here you were dancing with Gojo. 

Gojo pain-in-your-ass Satoru.

Immediately pushing him off with a hand to his chest, you don’t listen to whatever spills out of his mouth as you make your way to Haibara, disappearing with him into the crowd.  

“Hey, hey you okay? Wasn’t that the guy you were manifesting would step on Lego with his bare foot?” Haibara’s concerned voice speaks up from wherever you were dragging him through this sprawling frat house. 

“Ugh, yeah. Sorry about that, I don’t even- Anyway, how did the beer pong go?” you snap out of your reverie. What happened there? You were almost…enjoying yourself with Gojo Satoru of all people. 

Listening to Haibara brag about his dominating beer pong win thankfully took your mind off of your little endeavor with Gojo. 

“And then Yuji totally-”

“AH, THERE YOU ARE! Perfect, come join we’re two people short!” your kinda-friend Shoko’s drunken drawl breaks through the conversation. You can barely get a word out as she forcefully drags you two into a dimly lit room against your protests. 

The atmosphere heavy with beer and laughter, she plops you two down onto the floor in a neat circle of people before taking her seat beside you. “GREAT! Now we’ve got everyone, we can finally start.”

With a mischievous grin, Shoko declares, “Alrighty, folks! Time for the ol’ classic - we’re playing 7 minutes in heaven!” pulling out an old-fashioned, tattered hat from behind her back, to a collective mix of groans and cheers from the circle. 

“Where did you even find that ratty old thing, Shoko?” a sharply handsome man - Geto, you think - chuckles from his seat opposite you. And beside him- your heart stops. Gojo.

A smirk curling his lips and twinkling blue eyes locked on you. 

As if on instinct, you move to get up - only to be brought back down by a hand on your wrist. “Nuh-uh, no one’s escaping, c’mon it’ll be fun.” Shoko smirks, beginning to hand out pieces of paper to write down your names.

Apprehension pooling in your stomach, you share a glance with Haibara, who was honestly just happy to be here. Reluctantly, you scrawl down your name, tension building as it drops into the abyss of the hat.

“As our first attempted escapee, I think the prez should go first.” that agitating voice you knew too well speaks up. If looks could kill, Gojo would be six feet under and you’d be dancing all over his grave with a textbook on the Copenhagen Interaction. 

To agreeing laughter - and your impending doom - the hat is promptly placed in front of you. God, you knew you should’ve stayed home. With a shaky hand, you delve in, grasping onto a slightly crumpled piece of paper.

Not Gojo. Please not Gojo. Literally anyone but Gojo- 

Turning it over.

Satoru Gojo.

You jolt in surprise, rereading the hasty handwriting over and over - as if willing it to change. This must be some kind of sick joke. Eyes meeting Gojo’s, a flash of surprises passes his face before a self-satisfied grin takes over. He looked way too fucking pleased with himself.

“No fucking way.” Shoko mutters as it dawns on the group just who you were paired up with. Cheers and wolf-whistles erupt, filling the room as Satoru stands up extending a hand theatrically towards you. “If her highness the student prez would do me the utmost pleasure of joining me.”

You scoff, jeez it would be a surprise if you two didn’t kill each other in there. “Unless she’s…intimidated?” he bats his long lashes at you mockingly.

Intimidated? Of who? Swatting away Gojo’s hand, you stand up. “Intimidated? Don’t make me laugh.” 

He leans down, retorting, “I’ve tried but you don’t seem to know how.”. The room holds their breath, attention squarely on the two of you.

A beat of silence passes as you glare at him. You really could smack his annoyingly pretty face right now, but you shouldn’t - too many witnesses. 

“Now now, you two. Save it for the closet.” 

Ever the mediator, Geto ushers you two in the direction of the - very cramped - closet tucked into a corner of the room. 

Before you know it, the creak of the heavy wooden door rings in your ears as the door closes behind you. The loud click of a lock resonates, plunging you two into darkness. 

The muffled sounds of the party seem miles away as you try to focus on your breathing - trying not to let your mind drift to Gojo. You could feel the heat of his body, the ghost of his presence less than a foot away from you.

“So…” you flinch as Gojo’s voice cuts through the deafening silence. “You still alive and breathing after being trapped in a tiny closet with me?”

You huff, desperately wanting to break out of this closet, “Yes, but you probably won’t be if you don’t stay on your side.”

“This closet is barely a closet, there’s no ‘side’, sweetheart. And that’s my leg you’re resting on.”

You immediately scramble to move away from the warmth of Gojo’s leg that you’d been subconsciously leaning yours on. In the chaos, you probably did a bit more damage than solving. “Ah! Wait- watch the crown jewels, hardass.” 

You distance yourself as much as possible in the small space, knee burning where it had brushed up against Gojo’s that.

God, you were making a fool of yourself.

“As much as I like forceful women, you better take me out on a date first, sweetheart.” As your eyes adjusted to the dim lighting filtering in through the slight crack of the door, you could make out that signature playful grin. 

Your irritation simmers beneath the surface. Gojo always knew how to get under your skin. 

“Don’t you worry your empty lil’ head, I wouldn’t fuck you even if I was paid.” you bite back.

“Oh yeah?” Gojo leans in slightly, his voice low and teasing. “You sure about that, prez? I’ve been told that I’m irresistible.”

You raise a brow, unimpressed. “Yeah, irresistibly hard to not smack.” 

“I always did like ‘em feisty. Makes our little debates all the more interesting.”

“Our debates would be a lot more interesting if you learned to keep that big mouth shut.”

“Oh? C’mon, prez, you love this ‘big mouth’. And you love the challenge. I see the way you look for me every time you answer one of Yaga’s questions, y’know.” Gojo murmurs, gaze piercing into yours.

He leans in closer - now definitely not on his side of the closet. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d call it chemistry. Admit it and I might consider not calling you ‘hardass’ for a whole week.”

“What- That’s just because- I’d rather be called ‘hardass’ for a lifetime than admit to having any chemistry with you. I can’t even tolerate you for seven minutes here.” you sputter at both his proximity and his (absurd) accusations.

“As the student prez, isn’t your entire job to tolerate everyone? You’re a walking contradiction, sweetheart.”

“I am not. You have no effect on me.” you protest, standing firm. In the heat of your argument, you and Gojo have drawn closer to each other. His breath now fanning your face as he hums, voice a seductive tease, “I do, admit it. There’s a part of you that likes our chemistry.”

A defiant spark ignites in your eyes, “I’ll admit no such thing.”

“Then…hit me like I know you want to if you don’t want this.” he whispers, voice breathless. He closes the distance.

Gojo’s lips meet yours. 

Soft, they were so soft. 

Your heartbeat thundering in surprise, a hand raising to - to what? Smack him away? Eyes fluttering closed, your hand fists his shirt, the other subconsciously finding its way to his cloudy locks. Tugging. Kissing him back. 

Satoru kisses you like he’ll never be able to again. Because, he knows - he probably won’t.

Lips searing against yours, his eyes roll to the back of his head at your taste. Sweet - so sweet - just like candy, with a hint of Baileys and everything that he’ll never be able to have. 

A strangled groan leaves his throat when you bite down on his lips. Tugging with your teeth. Shit, fuck him and his bigass ego, he wanted to be the one showing off his irresistibility but really it’s the other way around. 

Mouth opening to let you in, he drinks in your gasps as he intertwines his tongue with yours. Large hands on your face pulling you impossibly closer to him in this godforsaken closet. It was dizzying - almost as if it hurt to part, drawn by that familiar magnetism that always seems to hang around you.

Lost in the heat of the moment, Satoru’s hands wander the expanse of your body. Groping and squeezing every curve and dip - he doesn’t have enough time. He probably never will.

A hand rests firmly on your hips. Awaiting. Breaking away - just a fraction - he breathes out urgently into your lips, “I need to taste you. Let me taste you. Please.”

“Desperate, huh?”

Your gaze pierces through him, it always does. Immediately after your disoriented nod, he presses a trail of hot, open-mouthed kisses along your neck. God, he could do this forever.

You shudder as he hastily bunches your tight dress at your hips, sending blood rushing straight to his cock. Shit, this was not how he expected these 7 minutes to go.

Hurriedly falling to his knees, the pain doesn’t even register when he comes face-to-face with your clothed cunt. Panties already so wet - just for him. Cock twitching carnally, he needed to taste you now. 

Tongue flattening across your swollen folds through your underwear, just a slight taste of your wet pussy and Satoru already thinks he might pass out. Ah, so good - of course you taste heavenly.

“Ah! Gojo- more.”

Pulling away, he feels drunk off the whimper of disappointment that escapes your mouth. “Call me Satoru.” he hums, fingers deftly sliding your soaked panties down your legs. His hot breath fanning your entrance has you clenching your thighs together, desperate for any friction.

Mouth watering at this, Satoru curses the darkness inside the closet - can’t even admire your pretty pussy right. You flinch as his face meets your cunt. Shit, this was better than he’d ever imagined on those lonely nights pathetically fucking his fist.

He breathes you in so sinfully, tongue sliding teasingly between your folds in a leisurely rhythm that almost has him forgetting however many minutes you two have left. Frankly, he couldn’t give less of a fuck about it either. Sinful squelches fill the confined space, along with your quiet moans of his name. 

“Hngh- S-Satoru. Feel s’good. Faster.” 

Ah, it’s really music to his ears. Your voice plays on repeat in his mind. He doesn’t even realize the call from outside until you look down at him, eyes dazed and kiss-bitten lips moving to panickedly mutter, “Satoru, we only have three more minutes.”

Ah, guess he’ll have to take his time in his dreams. 

“I only need two.” Satoru purrs, lips ghosting your wet core, voice sending goosebumps down your spine - all the way down to your dripping cunt. 

“W-well, stop hngh- running your mouth then.” you retort.

Satoru’s smirk against your plush folds is the last thing you see before he dives nose-deep in your pussy. He doesn’t waste time, tongue dipping in and out of your hole at an unforgiving pace. In and out in and out in and-

“Hah- yes! Satoru jus’ like that!” you hiss out, desperately trying to keep the moans ripping from your throat to a minimum, in fear of the others outside hearing. 

Noticing, Satoru snakes a hand up to your mouth - bullying his ringed-fingers in through your swollen lips. His index caresses your tongue, speeding up his movements on your pretty pussy as you gag around him. Moans catch in your throat as you struggle to accommodate him, the pleasure of being stretched from two ends too much. 

Satoru only has to take one look - tears clinging to your lashes and drool trickling down the corner of your mouth as you suck on his fingers - before he thinks he might just cum in his pants. Fuck, it was so lewd. 

You tighten your grasp on his hair, sure that your knees would give out if it wasn’t for the bruising grip he had on your hips, keeping you firmly on his mouth. Unable to run away. 

Shit, for someone so tight-laced, you were so messy on his mouth. He moans as your slick pools in his mouth, dripping down the corners of his lips. The  tap! tap! tap! of it hitting the hardwood floor rings deafeningly in his ears.

Ah, so this is why they call it 7 minutes in heaven. Satoru thinks he wouldn’t mind dying if it was in between your legs being suffocated by your cunt. 

Your entrance clamps down desperately on his tongue, forcing him to bully it into your snug pussy, fucking you unrelentingly. His nose rubbing against your swollen clit over and over. 

At this point, Satoru doesn’t know whether the pulse he feels is that of his heartbeat or your cunt, throbbing and achingly needy for his mouth. His nose stimulates your clit just right, sending shockwaves through your body that have you bucking into him for more.

Voice slightly muffled by his fingers, “Fuck- Satoru, keep going. Hngh- I’m gonna cum!” 

The way your walls desperately try to fuck his tongue has his cock straining so painfully against his trousers. Satoru increases his abuse on your cunt mercilessly, the harsh pace making you squeal and buck into his face. Your juices are now all over his mouth, gushing around his tongue. In and out in and out in and out-

“Satoru!”

You cum hard - all over Satoru’s pretty face.

Now, Satoru loves when you run your mouth and infuriate him, but he might just love it even more when you’re falling apart and speechless under his touch. 

Riding out your high on his features, you can feel yourself quivering around his tongue as he laps up your juices as if it were a delicacy. Deep moans leaving his mouth and vibrating across your soaked cunt, making you jolt at the overstimulation.

Pulling back, Satoru admires your unfocused eyes and bruised lips. “For someone that so fucking despises me, your slutty pussy sure is sucking me in so desperately.” he murmurs, slightly out of breath after what just transpired. 

“Sh-shut up.”

Ah, if only he got to see this view more often. 

You can’t help but feel the same way. Seeing Satoru fucked out, vibrant eyes half-lidded and blown out, your slick prettily glossing all over his mouth and nose. A small voice in the back of your mind wishes he was more like this and not whatever he is when he’s getting on your nerves.

“ONE MORE MINUTE! Finish up whatever devil’s tango or death match y’all are having in there!”

Those troublesome thoughts are pushed out of your mind as soon as you hear Shoko call from outside.

The bubble is broken. Jumping apart as far as possible in the cramped closet, you press yourself into the closet wall as you two wordlessly rush to make yourselves slightly more presentable. The air, once charged with overflowing tension and sex, now so strained.

Bending down to feel for the panties that Satoru- no, Gojo had thrown god-knows-where, your hands graze his - still slightly wet with your spit. Snatching your hands back as if it burned, you make out Gojo’s figure pocketing something.

…

Your panties??

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” you hiss, face burning at both his actions and the idea of going outside without panties.

“Just think of it as repayment for the fun.” he hums, mirth spilling into his tone. And before you could snap at his antics, Shoko is ripping the door open and looking around the closet for what you can only assume to be missing body parts and blood.

“Aw, man. And here I was thinking Satoru would be six feet under by now.” she groans, walking off disappointedly - for which you were eternally grateful otherwise she’d have seen the few suspicious stains on the floor.

“Remember, you owe me twenty, Shoko.” Geto speaks up from the circle. Were they…betting on whether you and Gojo would kill each other in there?

Finally stepping out of that godforsaken closet, you catch the smirks and raised eyebrows from some of the people from the group.

Meeting Gojo’s eye, a smirk curls around his swollen lip as he swipes a thumb across it. Agonizingly slow. Teasing. 

Your cheeks flare, something pooling in your stomach. Ugh, this is why you hate frat parties.

“You alright, man? You look…flushed?” you hear Geto question, pointedly staring at Satoru’s slightly disheveled look.

It was all getting too much - the alcohol in the air, the thumping of the overplayed pop music, and him. You felt so lightheaded. Ripping your gaze from Gojo’s you leave without so much as a goodbye to him, only stopping for a reassuring nod at Haibara. You make a beeline for the exit, dashing out of there and down the winding staircase as fast as you could. 

Focused on navigating the packed party, you almost don’t register Gojo rushing after you. Ignoring whatever words were tumbling out of Gojo’s mouth, you silently thank the sorority that had just pulled up - clinging onto him in greeting, making it impossible to follow after you. 

The cool night air washes over you as you finally step outside. You sigh in relief as you leave the chaotic sounds of the party - and him - behind. 

Impatiently waiting for your friend on the way to pick you up, only two thoughts echo in your mind.

He actually only needed two minutes.

What the fuck?

Meanwhile, back in that heady room, Shoko nudges Suguru, the latter still watching in amusement where Satoru had run after you in the door. “Hm?” he asks, absent-mindedly.

“Why do most of these papers have Satoru’s name?”

---

You pass through the next morning in a daze. The hardest part was probably trying to get dressed without making eye contact with the purple finger marks on your hips that Sato- Gojo had left to remember him by.

You still can’t believe that happened. 

It’s alright, it was just a mistake in the heat of the moment - you just have to forget it ever happened, right? But that’s easier said than done when your last class of the day is Advanced Quantum Physics.

Cursing your timetable, you step through the crowded campus. You pull your sweater tighter around yourself, the fabric doing nothing to stop your skin searing where Gojo’s lips had been just last night.

Alright, you just had to get through this one class today. There’s a lot of people in Professor Yaga’s class - it’s not like you’ll necessarily see that bane of your existence-

“Yooo prez, fate just seems to bring us together hmm?” 

Gojo almost topples out of his chair, waving in your direction. As your eyes sweep across the room, you can feel your heart sinking. Shit, you really feel like you’re being Punk’d right now. 

Cursing whoever was up there for this cruel joke, you make your way to the desk beside Satoru’s - the only empty one. 

Slumping down onto the chair with a frustrated huff, you sink into yourself - eyes trained firmly forward and ignoring the playful grin in your peripheral vision.

To your surprise, Gojo doesn’t say a word throughout the lecture. Not a single comment about fucking any professor’s wife - or your cunt. Huh, did last night cause some type of qi deviation or something?

As Professor Yaga drones on about quantum entanglement, you find the words going in one ear and out the other, too focused on wondering what Gojo’s game was.

It’s only towards the end of the lecture, at the introduction of some new assignment that you find yourself finally letting your guard down. Okay, see, it wasn’t too bad. Now time to go back to your apartment and study whatever quantum entanglement was for the next five hours.

“Ah- And remember, the midterm assignment pairings are posted on Canvas.” 

What was that?

God, you hated working with other people. It was much more efficient for you to stay in and finish this paper in one sitting.

“So, partner~ My place or yours?”

What?

The bell rings, its metallic chime resonating in your mind almost as loud as Gojo’s words. Signaling the end of class - and probably the end of your sanity. 

You wish the ground would swallow you up at this very moment. These days have really not been your days.

---

“Literally what do you bring to the table?”

“Comedic relief and my undeniably good looks.”

“...”

“...and also the case study and background information.”

The air at the stuffy café just off-campus was a mixture of freshly ground coffee and hushed conversations - of course, occasionally disrupted by the chaotic debates that erupted from your little booth.

Not too long ago, as everyone moved to file out of the classroom, you were frozen, glaring at your open laptop so intensely you half-expected it to combust - scrutinizing the neat arrangement of Gojo’s name next to your own over a million times.  

Finally sighing in defeat, you nodded in surrender at Gojo - who was whooping in victory. But, you were still adamant on meeting somewhere in public. The last time you two were left alone ended up…interesting. 

“Then you do that and I’ll take care of the rest of the theoretical analysis and evaluation. Okay, sounds good, Gojo.” you deadpan, rubbing the sides of your forehead in frustration. 

“Ouch, no Satoru?”

Ignoring his comment, you promptly slam your laptop closed, gathering your things with a determined sigh. Ready to escape the stifling atmosphere of the cafe. “So you do that and put it on the doc, and I’ll do the same with my parts. See ya.”

That’s when you feel a large hand covering yours - the same one from- “Hey there now, hardass, stay a little longer - gotta make sure you don’t slander quantum entanglement in our essay the same way you do with the Pilot-Wave theory.” Gojo interrupts your intrusive train of thought. 

“What? Unlike you, I don’t slander any scientific theories. Although, I do think the idea of entangled particles jumping around like you do is hardly the hallmark of a stable scientific theory.” you retort, face burning but setting down your bag nonetheless.

Resting his face on his hands, he grins at you. “Oh yeah? I think stability is overrated, prez. Quantum entanglement challenges you because it’s a realm where your precious stability crumbles in the face of non-local correlations.”

God, was he glad he begged on his knees to Yaga to pair you two together. He was having way too much fun with this. 

“Just because particles can communicate faster than you can comprehend doesn't mean we should abandon reason.” you raise a brow. 

“Well, I think you should just embrace the uncertainty, sweetheart. Life is a game of chance, just like quantum entanglement.”

“Oh, really?” you drone out, sarcastically. 

“Yeah, think about it. For instance, I never thought I’d still be alive and breathing after last night. But here I am.” at your stunned silence, he continues. “I for sure thought you’d have the coffin ready as soon as I kissed y-”

You panickedly place your hands over his mouth to shut him up, those blue eyes twinkle in amusement. “When I said you had a big mouth I really wasn’t lying, huh.” 

Slowly removing your hands once it seemed like Gojo wouldn’t spill your endeavors in this family-friendly cafe, you sigh, “Okay- We’ll get some shit done today, alright. But this is the last time I’m meeting with you for this.”

“Mhm~ You got it, prez.”

It was not the last time you met with Gojo for this. 

Nor was it the second-last.

Or the third-last. 

Each and every time you two worked together on the assignment, you’d spend more time bickering about anything ranging from what you’d learned in Professor Yaga’s class that day to whether the old lady who frequented the café was a part of the mafia. 

“I’m telling you, she handles those knitting needles like they’re a weapon.”

“Mhm and she sips her Earl Grey like she’s plotting espionage. Now, get to work before I use my teaspoon as a weapon.”

“I’d rather investigate her than this damn Qiskit simulation.”

“Sure, Gojo. I’ll add her to our list of groundbreaking research projects.”

“Don’t come crying to me when I rub it in your face once we see her on the news as a mafia queenpin, prez.”

You’re pretty sure the café employees have a love-hate relationship with you and Gojo - too lively to be one of their favorite regulars, but arguments too amusing to kick you two out. 

And as for your relationship with Gojo…well. It’s not as if you can’t go 7 minutes without being somewhat civil, and yet that’s exactly the issue, isn’t it?

After what had happened that night, it feels as if there’s something charging the air whenever you two are together.

You chalk it up to just lingering tension, but that still doesn’t explain the way Gojo’s eyes hold a warm twinkle whenever he looks at you - gaze a little too warm than you’d expect a rival to have. But it’s fine, you just have to ace this assignment and then this strange dynamic can go back to normal.

It’s only towards the end of your assignment that you realize how wrong you really were.

---

Out of breath and darting across campus towards where you knew Gojo was waiting, you half-wish you joined the track team instead of the student government. Damn student reps, can’t keep proper archives.

As much as you got a kick out of getting on Gojo’s nerves, you hated to keep anyone waiting.

“Ah! Prez! Was heartbroken thinking you’d stood me up, y’know?” Satoru calls once he spots you bolting towards him on that dimly-lit pathway. Wow, maybe you should’ve joined the track team.

You trip. Ah, maybe not.

Feet automatically hastening your way, he catches you. Well, more like you fall into his arms.

“Just in time, huh?” he chuckles, thankful for the sun dipping below the horizon - otherwise you’d surely have caught the rosy flush tinting his cheeks. Arms wrapped around your waist and supporting your waist, Satoru almost coos at the surprised look gracing your face. You always did something to his heart.

Hastily distancing himself from you once you stand on your own, he rambles - anything to drown out the banging of his heart against his chest. “So, I’m assuming you were out there doing all your president-ly duties?” 

“Ah! Yes, I’m so sorry, the meeting ran overtime and-” 

Listening to you rant, Satoru thinks that he wouldn’t want to be anywhere but here - bickering with you. He’s only snapped out his reverie at your disappointed groan. Oh, what was this? He didn’t even realize his feet had carried him to the little café already. 

Ripping his eyes from you, he turns to what moping at. A sign with red writing is plastered over the very locked café entrance - Sorry! Staff training today, hope to see you tomorrow!

“Seems like everyone’s got meetings today.” he hears you grumble. Satoru knows it isn’t right, but his heart leaps slightly at the chance to get to know you outside of that familiar cafe.

You, meanwhile, felt tension - and something else - pooling in your stomach. Shit, if the sanctuary of your café is no longer available…

“Well, we could just go home and finish off the paper by ourselves. It’s only the last bit anyway.” you suggest, voice slightly shaky at the idea and anticipation of actually being alone with Gojo after so long. 

“But Suguru’s such a loud snorer, I’d never get any work done.” Gojo whines. Well, there goes that plan.

“The library?”

“I hear it’s haunted this time of year.” he answers right away. 

“Ghosts are seasonal?” you ask absent-mindedly, too focused on weighing between the need to finish this assignment today and the uncertainty of what would happen between you and Gojo.

A tense silence fills the slowly darkening street as you go through all your options. Finally, watching the long shadows casted now, you sigh. “Fine. We’ll go to my place.” you mutter out. 

“Would you get angry if I celebrated right now?”

“Maybe.”

The walk to your apartment is bathed in the soft orange glow of the setting sun. It was almost peaceful - if it weren’t for Gojo’s excited chattering about god-knows-what. 

Your mind was running a million miles a minute. Was something like last time going to happen? Were you a lecher for expecting it? Why didn’t you mind the thought as much as you think you should?

You risk a glance at Satoru, who was in the middle of a passionate speech about how ketchup was a valid condiment on pasta. Soft sunlight paints his hair an amber hue, casting warm shadows that bring out his pretty features, eyes sparkling with passion and mischief. He was beautiful.

Wait. Beautiful?

“Hey isn’t this your apartment building or is walking past it a pre-entrance ritual?” 

Ah. Whoops.

You snap out of those ridiculous notions, gathering whatever dignity you have left to walk back to the apartment complex you’d left in the dust while wrapped up in your thoughts.

“Oooo, didn’t take you for much of a decorator, hardass.” Gojo comments, flitting about your cozy apartment to look at all the little knick-knacks and pictures 

“Did you really think I lived in some sterile lab?” you retort. Gojo’s almost-endearing curiosity amuses you enough to let go of the electricity thrumming through your body at having him so close. In your home. 

“Well, I expected more beakers and fewer fairy lights, sweetheart.”

You roll your eyes, pretending to be offended. “Believe it or not, Gojo, hardasses can have a sense of style, too.”

He continues his exploration, stopping in front of a photo on the wall. “Who’s this model?” he grins, pointing at a picture of you in stuffy formal attire at some conference.

You sigh, knowing exactly which photo he's referring to. “That, Gojo, is me at a conference presenting a groundbreaking research paper.”

“Groundbreaking, huh? Is that what they call it these days?” he hums, arching an eyebrow playfully. 

“Yes, and six feet under is what they’ll be calling you if you don’t get your ass here and finish this paper.”

“...yes, prez.”

Writing the conclusion and inserting citations is always the fun part. If you could write an essay on whatever you want, it would be only conclusions and citations, you think.

After a few hours of working on your paper, apparently Gojo does not feel the same way.

“Fuck Noodletools. All my homies hate Noodletools.”

“This is why you only have two friends, Gojo.”

“Hey! I’m a very likable person, y’know.” 

“...”

He sets his laptop down leaning closer to you over where he was seated opposite you on the coffee table, clearly bored of citations for the time being. “Also, aren’t we friends, sweetheart? Technically I have three.”

You raise a brow, this was the first time Satoru had ever addressed the strange dynamic you two had. “Are we?” you ask, genuinely. 

A deafening silence envelopes your living room. This was the first time you’d seen such a serious expression take over Gojo’s face as he answers, voice even, “I’m not sure.”

The atmosphere thickens with a charged tension, the weight of Gojo’s words lingering in the room. A spark flickers in his eyes. You feel like you could almost get whiplash from the contrast between the heated banter to where you two were now. Was it always so hot in this room?

You let out a strained laugh, attempting to diffuse the seriousness and go back to a trivial territory you were more familiar with. “I never thought the great Gojo Satoru would be uncertain about something.” Your eyes flicker unwillingly from his intense gaze to his worry-bitten lips.

The mischief returning to his gleaming eyes, he smirks “Uncertainty can be thrilling, don't you think, sweetheart?”

You don’t even know what to say to that - and you don’t have to. Because before you can respond, Gojo swiftly leans over the coffee table - catching your lips in a sudden, electrifying kiss. 

Time stands still. A shiver runs down your spine as you realize that you didn’t want to push him away. At all. In fact, you grab a fistful of his soft locks, pulling him impossibly deeper into the kiss. 

Pulling away mere millimeters, Gojo’s hot breath fanning your mouth as he whispers, “Told you the uncertainty is thrilling, sweetheart.”

“Shut up and kiss me.” you grumble, irritated because his lips ghosting yours was not enough.

Before you know it, Gojo has you pinned against the plush couch. His lips finding your, the kiss deepening as he yearns for that desperate connection - as if each breath depends on smothering you with dizzying kisses. 

The room seems to shrink, right now only filled with the heated exchange of breaths and the feeling of Satoru’s lips searing into yours. 

You think he tastes like caramel and uncertainty - yet, this time, you fall into the unknown with open arms. Wrapping your legs around his toned waist, your arms around his broad shoulders - bringing him to you so close you’d think the laws of physics were taking a coffee break.

It almost hurt. 

The intensity of the moment only growing, the atmosphere in your homey apartment crackles with a tension that you knew in the back of your mind had been building for so long - ever since that party.

Your heartbeat echoes in your ears. You knew this would happen.

And a part of you needed it to.

His fingers trace a path along your jawline, leaving a trail of heat - you shudder, craving for more. 

“Gojo, I want you.” you breathe out, words muffled by Satoru sucking sinfully on your lips. 

He pulls away slightly, delicate strings of saliva still connecting him to you. Every fiber of his being resisting to part.

“Don’t call me that.” he purrs out, the intensity of his half-lidded stare sending a jolt straight down to your heated core. “It’s Satoru when we’re fucking, remember?”

Looking into his sultry eyes, for the first time ever you decide to heed what Satoru says. “S-Satoru, please.” you whimper, hips bucking up to meet his own. You can feel the large outline of his achingly hard cock straining against those stupidly overpriced trousers, pussy quivering in anticipation. 

Now, there have been three times in his life that Satoru thinks he has died and gone to heaven. The first being when he discovered that the ramen joint by his dorm also had free Wi-Fi. Second, that first day in Advanced Quantum Physics when you snapped at him told him to shut the fuck up. 

And finally, right now, as he’s got you needy and squirming underneath him - such pretty gasps of his name leaving your kiss-bitten lips. 

God, navigating quantum physics is a walk in the park in comparison to what you put his heart through. 

“Hmm, never in my life thought I’d see his view, sweetheart.” he whispers lowly into your ear, delighting in the goosebumps that erupt along your alluring body. How did he get so lucky?

Hastily pulling down your shorts, his mouth waters at your wet panties. Another prize for him, hm? Throwing them along with your panties to god-knows-where, Satoru drinks in the sight of your bare pussy - a privilege that he didn’t get in that godforsaken closet. 

Ah, so ready and dripping for him already. Your slick glistens out of your heated entrance as you clench around nothing. “Aww, they’ve faded.” he whines, heart lurching at the lack of his marks from last time.

It’s alright, he can just make more.

Not one to waste time, with a bruising grip holding your hips steady, Satoru grinds his painfully hard cock into your needy cunt, savoring the pretty mewls that leave your mouth. The way your swollen pussy quivers against him makes him throw his head back, seeing stars already. 

Nipping along your neck, leaving marks he knows you’ll have to cover up tomorrow. “Sit on m’face,” he murmurs into your skin.

“W-what?”

Pressing wet, open-mouthed kisses along the valley of your breasts, Satoru breathes you in. Fuck, he prefers the smell of your skin to any scent in the world. “Sit- on- my- face.” he repeats, words punctuated with erotic kisses to your hardened nipples, tongue flicking them through the fabric of your clothes. 

“You’re gonna be the death of me, y’know?” you gasp. Yet, still shifting on that cramped couch. Why do you two always fuck in the most inconvenient places?

Satoru’s legs hang off the end of your couch as he lays on his back, you’d almost find the position funny - if it weren’t for you straddling his head. 

His hot breath on your wet cunt sends waves of electricity though your entire body as you hover over his mouth. Your needy pussy right above where his mouth is, hesitating. Your slick oozes slowly through your swollen folds - drip! drip! drip! onto his awaiting tongue, brows furrowing and eyes rolling to the back of his head at your sweet juices.

“Mhm, and I hope that you’ll be the death of me.” he hums, tongue savoring your taste.

It’s the last thing said before Satoru surges forward, plunging mouth-first into your heated cunt. 

Despite not being on a time crunch this time, Satoru doesn’t waste a moment teasing - he already has you splayed out and aching for him, what more could he want?

He bullies his tongue into your snug cunt, pushing past the first ring of muscle. You twitch around him, sweet moans spilling incessantly from your mouth. “Ah! Hngh- Satoru! Fuck s’good.”

Your sounds of pleasure going straight to his dick, he bucks into your hands. Ah, more. He needs your touch more. 

The feeling of your plush walls clamping down on him only spurs him on further, fucking you at a ruthless pace. One hand gropes across your body, resting a thumb on your clit that rubs tight circles, making you grind down further into his mouth. 

“Your pussy is so honest, sweetheart. She wants me so badly.” he murmurs, voice sending vibrations that make you let out a loud moan which he suspects your neighbors would be complaining about. 

You were so perfect for him, Satoru thinks he might go insane.

You were definitely going insane.

Satoru shows no mercy, his abuse on your dripping cunt only speeding up at every buck of your hips into his tongue. It felt so fucking good. 

Closing your eyes, his pressure on your core has you seeing spots behind your vision. You could feel the curl of his signature smirk against your folds as your pussy tries sucking him back in at every thrust. Too good to let him go. “Knew you loved this ‘big mouth’, hardass.” he murmurs. 

Shit, you can’t be the only one acting so needy like this.

“What’re you doing, sweetheart?” Satoru drawls, voice muffled by your cunt as he feels the breeze of his lower abdomen hitting the heady air of your living room.

“Payback.” is all you mutter out as you fumble his trousers down his long legs. Curse these gyms. Curse squats. Why did he have to be so perfectly sculpted? An Adonis in his true form. 

You can feel the saliva pooling in your mouth as his boxers come into view - rock-hard cock straining painfully against it A patch of pre-cum pools at his head - he wanted you just as badly as you wanted him. Hands shaky from the way Satoru’s incessant tongue was fucking into you, you shuffle his boxers down. 

Satoru’s painfully hard erection springs out, hitting his lower abs. Fuck- how the hell were you supposed to take him? Life was really unfortunate - water was wet, and Gojo Satoru has a huge dick.

“S-sweetheart, you don’t have to-” he murmurs against your swollen pussy. 

From all your times shutting up Gojo Satoru, this one might just be your favorite. 

His words catch desperately in his throat as you spit out a pool of saliva onto Satoru’s furiously flushed head. A low hiss leaving him as you teasingly lick his sensitive slit. 

Never one to back down from a challenge, Satoru attaches his lips with yours once more. He groans lowly into you, the stimulation making you yelp in surprise. 

“So, it’s like that, huh?” 

Satoru doesn’t have the time to ponder your words before you take in as much of his length as you can in one go. “Ah! Hah- Oh fuck, prez. Always knew you were a forceful woman.”

You moan at the slightly salty taste of his precum. Gagging around him, drool drips down the corner of your mouth as you try to take him in inch by fucking inch. It was so fucking messy.

Diving nose-deep in your cunt once again, Satoru continues the merciless pace of his tongue once more. Both your muffled moans fill the heated room, lost in the pleasure and the heat of the moment.

Shit, you knew by the way your walls clenched down on his tongue that you weren’t gonna last long. And judging by the urgent twitching of Satoru’s cock - he wasn’t going to either. 

He fucks up his throbbing erection into your mouth, your eyes watering as his tip hits the back of your throat. Ropes of spit and precum decorate your lips. Even the staunch part of you that never backs down for anyone cheers at being so used. It’s so fucking debauched.

Your hand moves down to massage his heavy balls, tugging and pulling at a rhythm that matches the rapid ministrations of his thumb on your swollen clit.

Mind spinning and pleasure dizzyingly overwhelming as you both lean closer and closer to your highs. With a final mewl around his thick cock, your juices are gushing all around Satoru’s mouth. 

Your mind blanks as you cum, the only things registering being the tingles of your oversensitive pussy as Satoru rides you through your high on his tongue and the taste of Satoru as he cums in hot spurts in your mouth. Salty, with a hint of sweet - the flavor making your pussy twitch.

Fucking his seed into you, your mouth milks his cock. His cum dribbling down the corner of your mouth, all thoughts of dirtying your couch go out your brain when you hear the fucked out whines at the back of Satoru’s throat.

Fuck a refractory period, you wanted to hear that more.

You remove yourself from him with a lewd pop! Cum flowing smoothly down your throat, you lock eyes with Satoru over your shoulder. His jaw drops, pupils blown lustfully as your tongue sticks out - showing the way you’ve swallowed every single drop of his seed.

“Now, Satoru. I need you to fuck me with yours cock just as you did with your tongue.” your words still strained from your orgasm.

Wordlessly, Satoru nods, eyes shining - still reeling from the sinful sight of your bruised lips glossy with his cum - his cum that you swallowed as if it was a delicacy.

Meanwhile you were thinking that you should fuck Satoru more if it meant you got him to shut up and be pretty more often. 

Slightly more clear-headed now, just as lustful. 

Your couch creaks in protest as you shift positions to face Satoru once more. He seizes your lips in a passionate kiss, mouth attacking yours with a desperation for your essence.

Your head spins as you taste yourselves on each other, words tumbling out of your mouth in the haze, “Satoru, bed- now.”

But when has he not challenged you?

“Mhm, anything you say, prez.” he whispers raspily against your lips, still-hard cock teasingly dragging along your swollen folds. 

“Satoru.”

“Fuck yes. Say m’name, sweetheart.” he groans out, throwing his head back against the armrest. Your slick pools all over Satoru’s thick head, dripping sensually down his length to where he gripped tightly at the base. 

Swollen lips dropping into a small “oh”, he slides a ringed hand up his member, spreading your juices. Cock twitching carnally at the way your pussy was leaking all over him, he grits out, “Need to feel you around my cock now, sweetheart.”

So he does.

Thick head pressing into your tight entrance, a low growl leaves his throat at how sinfully tight you were. Fuck, he could just about pass out right now.

“S’tight, sweetheart. So good.” he fucks up into you in shallow, uncontrollable movements of his hips - impatience quickly waning. You yelp at each thrust, walls burning with the stretch of Satoru’s thick head. 

You try to steady yourself as Satoru’s thrusts get deeper and deeper, nails digging harshly into his muscled shoulders. In the midst of it all you still manage to impatiently slur out, “I-if you’re gonna fuck me then hah- fuck me like you mean it, Satoru.”

Oh, that did it.

Your words make the last bit of sanity Satoru had left snap. 

In a swift movement, he sheaths his throbbing erection in your wet cunt completely. A gasp gets caught in his throat at the way your walls were clamping down on him in surprise. 

He looks up at you, eyes half-lidded and a dangerously predatory glint in them that sends shivers down your spine. “Fuck me like I mean it, huh? You’re quite bossy, y’know that, prez?”

Before you can retort - and probably dig your grave deeper - he stands up in one fluid motion, your legs around his waist and cock still buried deep in your snug pussy. You moan at the change in angle, his tip now kissing your cervix so deliciously painfully. Shit, you feel so full. 

Hands moving down to grope your ass firmly and support your weight, he grins lowly in your ear, “You’re lucky I love that part of you.”

The wall is cold as Satoru shoves your back against it. his body making the air leave your lungs as he presses into yours, ramming into you at a merciless pace. Your tight cunt clenches so tightly around him, as if to prevent him from leaving. 

Each thrust into your warm core has his eyes rolling to the back of his head, brows furrowing in ecstasy. His lips capture yours once again in a rough dance that matches the cadence of his hips.

You mewl against his mouth at the feeling of his heavy balls stinging your skin as they smack your ass. The power behind each harsh thrust has you bouncing against the wall, legs pulling tighter around his toned waist to bully his cock impossibly deeper in you. 

“Where- fuck! Where’s the bed?” he moans breathlessly against your lips, voice sounding as if each thrust of his pulsing cock into your plush walls sends him spiraling deeper into insanity.

“Down- down the hallway. Hngh- fuck, Satoru!” you not far behind.

Your mind is foggy, barely even registering as Satoru moves blindly towards your bedroom with powerful strides - not yet pulling out of you.

He doesn’t get very far before he’s got you sprawled over your bedroom floor, your carpet digging into you as his cock slams into your abused cunt with that feral pace he loves so much. Not even making it to the bed.

“Ah! Hah- Satoru, what happened to the bed?” you sputter out in-between uncontrollable moans. 

“Too far. Hngh- need you now.” he answers around your breasts, teasing and tweaking your sensitive nipples.

“Wh-who’s irresistible now?” you manage to smirk, relishing in the huff of laughter that escapes him. Even now, you always did manage to one-up him.

“Mhm, you’ve always been irresistible, sweetheart.” he mutters, moving to press a chaste kiss against your forehead, not sure whether the words were even meant for you to hear. 

And you know it’s just pussy-drunk talk, but right now you can’t help the way your cheeks heat up, heartbeat ringing in your ears. 

Not sure how to respond to that, you pull him closer to you, allowing him to bury his burning face in the crook of your neck. Maybe right now neither of you needed to speak, your bodies doing enough talking as Satoru continues his relentless cadence.

Your hips bucking up to meet his, you whimper in pleasure and overstimulation into the heady room as Satoru moves down a hand to draw rough, little circles over and over your throbbing clit. It was all too much. “S-Satoru.”

“Me too, my sweetheart. Me too.” is all he gasps out, teeth digging into your neck at the pleasure overwhelming his sensitive cock. Satoru’s tight balls twitch as they smack your ass, cock glistening with cum and slick. He sees stars behind his eyes - or maybe those were tears at the overstimulation. He really doesn’t know anymore. 

Head spinning and thoughts racing with only Satoru Satoru Satoru, you’re very much in the same state. 

“Satoru?” you whine out, tears clinging to your lashes.

“Yes, sweetheart?”

You pull him into an intense kiss, pussy clamping down on him desperately as his lips brand yours - it sends you both over the edge. 

Satoru thinks he sees heaven as he cums, and you were probably an angel. 

Hot ropes of his thick cum paint your walls white, cunt quivering around him as you both ride out your climaxes together. A creamy ring forms around his base as he fucks his seed into you desperately, marking you so obviously as his. All thoughts of Plan B run out of your mind at the overstimulated whimpers leaving Satoru’s ruby lips.

His dick twitches inside you as his unforgiving thrusts slow down to shallow grinds of his hips, nothing more than to keep his cum inside of you as your highs bate.

Body collapsing onto yours, careful to not crush you with his weight, Satoru pulls you closer to him. And despite everything that happened this evening, he thinks that this might be what makes his ears burn red the most. Your body so vulnerably connected with his own. Just the two of you in this quiet world.

The silence feels intimate and fragile. Brain still hazy from your orgasms, you don’t think you’ve ever quite looked at your bedroom ceiling from his angle. 

Strangely enough, Satoru’s warm weight on you feels comforting. Neither of you speak now. Nor do you speak when Satoru carries you to bed, searching through your clothes for a washcloth he can wipe you clean with. 

It’s only when he lingers at the foot of your bed - uncertain - that the silence is broken. “Get in, stupid.” you scoff, opening the covers invitingly.

Of course, an elated smile overtaking his face, Satoru jumps in your bed with enough force to send you both bouncing. It was childish. It was so ridiculous. It had you barking out a surprised laugh at his antics.

In your joy, you don’t even realize that Satoru has stopped moving - frozen, smile slipping off his face and staring at you with an unknown spark in his eyes. 

“What?” you question, feeling strangely self-conscious. 

White locks tousling as he shakes his head, he breathes, “It’s the first time I’ve made you laugh.” The words hang in the delicate atmosphere, tension so thick you think it could snap any moment.

You hide your face in your hands, palms clammy. “You- you make me sound like some sort of evil witch.” you stammer out, embarrassment pooling in your gut. The tension in the air dissipates, yet the intensity in Satoru’s gaze remains.

Satoru understands, smiling blindingly. He pulls your naked body to his, wrapping his arms tenderly around your waist as you both bury into the covers. “Well, more of a hardass than an evil witch.”

“Satoru?”

“Yes, sweetheart?”

“You still have to finish your citations.”

A/N. Can be read as a standalone BUT part 2 planned for next longfic Sunday!

Plagiarism not authorized.

[inupibaldspot]

Wingman ain’t subtle.

Paring: Gojo Satoru x reader

Note ₊˚⊹♡ : This takes place when Gojo and the rest are students and you are one year senior/older than them

Gojo thinks today is a bad day.

“y/n-senpai apparently only dates guys older than her” Shoko says she sucks the drink from the straw. As much as she’d like to be smoking, it wasn’t allowed on campus.

The lollipop in Gojo’s mouth falls to the ground which makes Geto snort.

“Sucks to you Satoru.” He comments. “If only you were born a year or two before you’d have a chance.”

Gojo winches as he looks over to Shoko with eyes pleading that she was lying “For real?”

“Yeah.” Shoko and you shared being gifted with Reverse Cursed Technique so they’d spend a lot of time training together so the two were close.

Ever since he learned that fact, Gojo had Shoko be his wing man on learning to be and also learn about your type. She was hesitant at fist but oh boy! Gojo was so hopelessly in love with you she kinda felt bad. Shoko adds. “She thinks older guy make her feel protected.”

Gojo huffs, his stomach churns with jealousy. “I’m literally the strongest…” who else would you need to feel protected?

To add on the fact that learning about him having no chance with you because of the year he was born — ‘Satoru was spawn killed.’ Geto would add— he and his classmates had forgotten to put up a veil during a mission which triggered Yaga’s, their teacher in charge, wrath.

Yaga takes in a deep breath“How many times do I have to tell you to put up a veil ?!”

Gojo really couldn’t careless as his teacher yaps away and probably neither did both of his two friends. He could see Geto nod at times as if acting like he was taking Yaga’s word to heart and with Shoko dozing off with her eyes open.

He does his best to fight back a yawn as something suddenly grabs his attention. You. His eyes trail to you ,who was a year senior to him, walking along the hallway, revealed by the long strip of windows between the classroom and hall. Gojo thinks you’re the loveliest piece of existence in the planet as you gently tug a piece of hair behind as you talk with Utahime.

Feeling a piercing gaze — or maybe it was Yaga’s shouts— you look over inside the class as meet your eyes with beautiful vibrant blue ones of your junior, Gojo Satoru’s.

When you give him a smile and a small wave, you weren’t expecting him to straight up beam at your direction and full on wave as if a kid would wave at an airplane passing by.

Of course this angered Yaga further as a nerve pops on his forehead and hands clenched. “Pay attention, Satoru!” He swings his fist at the boy.

The impact of his teacher’s fist on him sends him flying. If he weren’t such a good student he would have actually used his limitless to block such hits but alas— it may not look like it but he was. “Sensei—! Hitting your students should be against the law.”

He sees Geto sent him an amused smirk and Shoko,who finally woke up, trying to figure out what was happening and to his horror, you were giggling at him. Not many things can make Gojo feel embarrassed but his crush laughing at him when he got hit was one of it.

Yup-! That’s exactly what he needed; his crushing laughing as he gets beat up and lectured by his teacher. His day was going fan-tas-tic!

The day goes on with with the remaining classes. Evening classes were usually training so Shoko was in infirmary with Gojo and Geto on the training grounds but one thing bother Gojo was that the ‘hit’ from Yaga earlier did leave an impact. The back of his head a aching and even made him jump when Geto applied the slightest bit of pressure.

Call him dramatic but he didn’t want the ache to go on further so there he was on his way to the infirmary. He really needed Shoko to patch him up.

He slides the door open as he starts to complain. “Shoko heal me up. Yaga’s hit really did some damage on me”

“You’re hurt?”

Hearing a voice which wasn’t Shoko’s and with almost a magic like ability to make his heart race grabbed his attention. He turns to see you who was near the storage cabinet as if you were arranging something.

“I- uhh…” Suddenly his throat constricted and he couldn’t speak. His face heats up as you tilt your head waiting for an answer as he clears his throat. “Just a bit, y/n.”

“Shoko is out though. She got called to assist in a mission. ” You smile as you sit on a near by chair, pulling another chair beside.

You smile at him as you pat the chair beside yours indicating him to sit down there which makes him tense up slightly but he does as told. “Also you should be calling me ‘senpai’. Utahime-senpai was complaining that youth these days have no manner.”

You laugh. “Now tell me where you’re hurt.”

He sits beside you as he tilts his head and points at his sore spot. “Here.”

Gojo watches you raise your hand and inspect his heat, the places where your fingers grazes heats up which makes him gulp deeply. You laugh as you see a swelling on his head. “Wow- Sensei really did hit you hard…”

The white haired boy relaxes as he he feels the calming sensation on his head which means you were using your technique of healing him. “Does age really matter that much?”

You hum as if thinking through your answer. “Of course. Even a year older means you’ve been in this world for a year longer. That in itself is commendable enough.”

“I heard from Shoko that you like guys older…” Gojo says no longer trying to contain the jealousy in his voice. “Is it because of the same reason?”

Gojo watches your eyes widen and blink in confusion; he thinks any expression you make is so so adorable. You then proceed to giggle. “Just because I dated people who are older than me doesn’t mean I have a type.”

Damn that Shoko probably messed around with her wording. Gojo curses as the girl made it seem you would only date guys older than her.

“For example…” You hum as you bring your finger up to your lips. “Right now I like a guy who is younger than me who never respects his elder.”

Hearing her words, every restrain in his body breaks free and Gojo stands up from his seat ; before he knows it his lips are on yours. He hold your face in place, cupping both side of his cheeks.

Gojo kisses you. Your lips are softer than he imagined it to be and when you let out a small moan he deepens it, stronger and desperate as if trying to memorize every inch of you.

He brings one of his hands to the back of your head, as he runs his hands through your hair. His lips keep moving as if he had lost his mind; deep and urgent as if he couldn’t waste a single second.

Out of breath, he pulls away and looks at you who was breathing heavily and lips slightly plump from his desperate tugs and bites. He watches the same lips curl into a smile as you give him a teasing smile. “Also tell Shoko to quit being your wing man,Satoru. She isn’t quite subtle about it.”

Check out more of my work here !! <3

[soaps-mohawk]

Cherry Red, Crimson Blood

Chapter 5: What I Want

Summary: You begin your training with Ghost, but not everything goes as smoothly as you'd hoped. At least you're learning how to want things, and that it won't kill you if you ask for them.

Pairing: Poly 141 x reader, some Ghost x Soap

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, oral sex, Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics, Alternate Universe, a/b/o typical classism and sexism, military inaccuracies, suggestive content, language, brief violence, reader has a breakdown

A/N: I know I was supposed to rest, but I couldn't help myself. I just had to get this one done. I was feeling it. We're finally getting into the good stuff here. Things will kind of pick up after this part, so I'm really looking forward for that.

MASTERLIST | <- Previous | Next ->

(Gif pulled from google)

You tug nervously at your sleeve, feeling exactly as you did when you had to sit in the director’s office at The Institute. Only, you never got in trouble there. You had never been summoned because you misbehaved. You made it a point not to get into trouble, avoiding it at all costs. 

You’ve been here just over a week and you’ve already messed up. 

Price is staring at you across his desk, leaning on his elbows as his blue eyes bore into you. You’re not staring at Price, you think. No, you’ve come face to face with The Captain. He’s angry, though you can’t be entirely sure. You’ve never seen him truly angry. You’re waiting on the reprimanding, the punishment, for him to tell you they’re sending you back because you’re too much trouble. 

“I want you to tell me exactly what happened.”

You flinch at his voice, half expecting him to start shouting but he sounds almost calm. There’s a strain to his voice, like he’s restraining himself. He’s doing it for your sake, you think. 

“Ghost and I were walking back from the mess when one of the alphas called out to me. He...he asked if I was going to go spread my legs for ‘that freak’ and he said he could offer me a better time.” You swallow thickly, Price’s shoulders tensing just slightly. “I don’t know what happened...I just suddenly felt so angry and it’s like I lost control of myself and I went up to him and he asked if I was gonna take him up on his offer and that he’d like to bend me over and stare at my sweet ass all night...and then I hit him, sir.” 

“Good.” 

You look up at Price in surprise at his answer, your eyes widening a bit. “S-sorry, sir?” 

“I have little tolerance for alphas that think it’s alright to speak crudely to omegas, especially those they were explicitly told to let be. You saved me a lot of paperwork today. Simon would have done a lot worse had you not gotten to him first.” He moves the papers on his desk aside, holding out his hand. “Let me see.” 

You stare at his hand for a moment before you realize he’s talking about your hand. You push your sleeve up, putting your hand in his. Your knuckles have swollen a bit and bruised, tender to the touch as he runs his thumb over them. 

“Simon told me you asked him to teach you to fight.” He says, closing his fingers around your hand. 

“Well, not so much fight, sir.” You say, staring at your hands. “Maybe just how to throw a decent punch.” 

“I’d say the one you threw today was at least half-decent. Corporal Allen is sporting quite the bruise on his face.” The corner of his lips lift in a smile. “You won’t have to worry about him anymore. He’ll be properly dealt with and they’ll all be receiving a lecture on proper base etiquette.” 

“So...am I in trouble, sir?” You ask, pulling your hand back slowly as he releases it. 

“No, you were simply defending yourself after Corporal Allen made a pass at you. Just don’t make it a habit of going around punching alphas.” He smiles. 

“I’ll try not to, sir.” You say, relieved that you weren’t about to get punished for your mistake. 

“Go on.” He nods towards the door. “I’m sure the boys are waiting for you.” 

“Thank you, sir.” You say, standing up from your chair, heading towards the door. 

Price leans back in his chair as the door closes, the sweet scent of caramel and strawberries still permeating his office. He breathes it in for a moment before pulling out his phone, scrolling through the contacts. 

“You’ll be delighted to hear our girl punched an alpha in the face today.” He says once the other line picks up. 

“She did what?” Laswell asks, genuine surprise in her tone. 

“One of the Corporals made a pass at her, and she left quite the bruise on his cheek. She’s turning into quite the spitfire.” 

“I told you she would fit right in. Underneath all that institute-taught BS there’s quite the personality. How is she settling in?” 

“She’s softening up to the betas already. Still a bit fidgety, but she’s found a way to get Simon to warm up to her.” 

“Oh? How so?” 

“She asked him to teach her to fight.” Price grins. 

Laswell chuckles. “I told you she’s smart. Just make sure he’s gentle with her.” 

“Don't worry, I reminded him to go easy on her. I think it will be good for both of them. Some forced proximity will be good for Simon and she’ll get to learn a few things that could be helpful.” 

“So long as she doesn’t go around trying to fight more alphas.” 

“She’s already promised not to. The Corporal got off easy. I can only imagine what Simon might have done to him.” 

“I’m glad to hear things are going well, John. I worry about her sometimes, but I know you boys will take good care of her.” 

“We’re doing our best.” 

“If you ever need anything, you know you can call.” 

“I know. I’ll keep you updated as her heat gets closer.” 

“Good. I’d hate to have to file that paperwork.” 

Price grimaces. “I know. I hope you don’t have to.” 

You’re tying your shoes as the knock sounds on the door. You’re not sure how they manage to do it, always seeming to catch you at the perfect moment. You’re glad Kate thought to get you some more active-wear type clothing, though perhaps she expected you’d be getting involved in their training or at least start a bit of your own once you arrived, just as she had thought to get you outdoorsy clothes too. 

You open the door, staring up at the hulking form of Ghost. 

“Come on.” He grunts, turning on his heel to walk down the hallway. 

You quickly close your door, hurrying after him. Not much has changed since your request for him to train you, though you didn’t really expect it to. Not at first, at least. You still have to prove yourself to him. Simply existing and getting involved in their lives would not be enough. 

He escorts you to the gym, a building you haven’t been in yet. There’s a few soldiers milling around, most of them in the weight room. There’s a pool across from the weight room, for more than just swimming, you think. Your father had talked about his own water survival training. You can only imagine the kind of water training they go through. 

Ghost leads you towards the back of the gym, unlocking a door near the exit. It’s set up not unlike a dojo, mats on the floor and punching bags and other training equipment along the walls. Ghost empties his pockets, setting his things on a bench before removing his sweatshirt. 

You can’t help but stare, only ever having seen him in long sleeves. His muscles bulge beneath his t-shirt, the first bit of skin revealed to you besides his neck, chin, and hands. Your eyes are drawn to his arms, taking in the sheer size of them. 

Tattoos. 

He has a sleeve of tattoos on his left arm. You have a desire to look at them closer, to trace each one but you wouldn’t dare. Not right now. You pull off your own sweatshirt, folding it and setting it on the bench, leaving you in just a t-shirt and your leggings. 

You fail in your attempt not to stare as he walks towards the center of the mat in his t-shirt and sweatpants, swallowing nervously. He turns to face you, motioning for you to approach with two of his fingers. Your face warms as you hurry onto the mat, coming to stand in front of him. 

“Let me see.” He says, holding out his hand. 

You stare at it for a moment before your brain catches up, and you put your right hand into his. You ignore the feeling of his fingers wrapping around your hand, lifting it so he can inspect your still bruised knuckles. 

“We’ll start with dodging.” He says, releasing your hand, taking a step back. “Let me see your stance.” 

You part your feet a little, bringing your fists up to your face. His shoulders shake in a quiet huff of a laugh as he stares at you. 

“You need to stagger your stance more.” He says, circling you. “Otherwise,” Hands push you from behind, and you nearly avoid face planting into the floor. “You’re too easy to knock over. The last thing you want is the fight to end up on the floor. You won’t be getting back up if you let your opponent overpower you that much. Again.” He motions to you. 

You set up your stance again, widening your feet just a bit. 

“Good.” He says, moving to stand in front of you. “These protect your face.” He says, hands wrapping around your wrists, raising your hands just a bit. “You get hit in the face...” 

“I won’t be getting back up.” You finish for him. 

You know most fights end up with both opponents on the ground. You’d watched your brothers wrestle and play fight enough to know that. You’re not here to learn how to win a fight, only how to protect yourself enough until you can find space to run. 

You barely have time to stumble back as his fist swings at you, nearly losing your footing. “Hey! You could warn me first.” 

“You think someone attacking you is going to warn you?” He asks. 

He has a point. 

“Use your legs.” He says as you set yourself up again. “Move side to side if you can instead of ducking under the punch, but if you have to, don’t let your eyes leave your opponent.” 

You see this punch coming, ducking to your right to avoid getting hit. 

“Good.” He says, repeating the motion with his left hand. “Stay focused.” 

You continue with the same motion a few times, already starting to feel a bit fatigued. Running is one thing, but strength is another. Most omegas aren’t naturally strong, nor are they inclined to increase their strength. That’s what alphas and their packs are for. It’s not unheard of, though, for omegas to increase their physical strength. Perhaps you’ll need to consider looking into doing that as well. 

Ghost takes a step back, letting you rest for a moment. You’re breathing heavily, though he’s hardly looking fatigued at all. He’s used to this, you remind yourself. He probably throws more punches in a day in the field than he’s thrown at you so far in 30 minutes. 

“Now, let’s make it a bit more realistic.” He says, a low rumble at the edge of his voice. 

A wave of scent hits you, your brain nearly short-circuiting. Fear pulses through you, ozone burning your nostrils. You stumble backwards, landing on your back on the mat. You’re breathing heavily, every cell in your body screaming at you to run or submit. 

“That’s...that’s n-not fair!” You say, your hands trembling from the adrenaline coursing through you. 

“Any alpha you fight is going to use every natural advantage they have over you.” Ghost says, stalking towards you. You can practically see it, the purebred alpha within him coming through. “You need to learn to protect yourself against them.” 

“That's...that’s not possible.” You say, the edge of a whine detectable in your tone. 

He kneels down over you, crowding into your space despite the souring of your scent. It doesn’t even seem to phase him as he forces you flat on your back, his hands coming to rest on either side of your head. You stare up at him, every fiber of your being screaming at you to bare your throat, submit, give in. 

Don’t back down. 

Don’t back down. 

You push past the fear, the instincts screaming at you as you drive your knee up into his stomach. He lets out a grunt but it doesn’t phase him, his hand wrapping around your leg, using his sheer strength to flip you onto your stomach under him. He presses against you, body folding over yours. You resist the urge, the instinct to press back into him, to be a good omega. 

“If an alpha gets you onto the floor...” He says, warm breath fanning your ear through his mask. “You won’t want to get back up.” 

His face presses against your neck as he inhales deeply before he pushes himself up, grabbing the back of your shirt and hauling you to your feet as well. You’re shaking, your heart thumping in your chest. Your head feels fuzzy, your brain buzzing a bit. Your omega is confused, poised to strike but she’s not sure against who. Ghost isn’t a threat, and you know that, but he had just proved how easily he could be. Any of them could be, with a simple scent change and their sheer strength. 

“Again.” He says, getting into a fighting stance. 

“You can’t expect me to fight after that.” You say, your voice breathless. 

“If you’re in a real fight, you won’t have much of a choice.” He says, the rumble still audible around his own voice. 

He’s right. If someone is attacking you, it’s likely going to be to kill, or to try and take you from them. Your omega shifts uncomfortably as you raise your shaking hands to guard your face. You continue to dodge punches, hitting the ground more and more as you continue to get tired. You’re going to be sore, still feeling your hike through the woods a bit. 

The door opens, giving you a moment to breathe. Soap enters, a grin on his face. 

“Ah, the wee lass is still breathin’.” He says, leaning against the wall. “Came tae make sure ye hadnae killed ‘er.” 

You can practically hear Ghost roll his eyes, his back turned to you as he says something to Soap. You can’t hear what it is, the ringing in your ears too loud. Your omega is still worked up, still poised to strike, more so now in your exhausted state. You push yourself off the floor, not having a moment to think things through before you’re throwing yourself at Ghost’s back. 

He turns before you hit him, catching you and flipping you onto your back on the mat. You hit hard, the breath forced from your lungs at the impact.

“Christ, Simon!” Soap shouts, hurrying to your side. “Ye tryin’ tae break her, ye numpty?” 

“Don’t do that again.” Ghost growls at you, stomping over to grab his things before leaving the room. 

“Easy, hen.” Soap soothes you as you gasp for air, his hand gently rubbing your shoulder. “Be over before ye know it.” 

Slowly the paralysis of your diaphragm begins to lessen, your stomach still aching but the air comes easier now. You squeeze your eyes shut, trying to fight the tears. You’ve messed it up. One day and you’ve already done more damage than you would have had you not asked him to teach you to fight. 

“Don’ worry, hen. He’s just worked up, that's all.” Soap says, brushing a damp strand of hair from your forehead. 

“It’s his fault.” You murmur. 

“Maybe, but yer scent...surprised you didn’t notice, hen.” Soap wiggles his brows. 

Your face warms. You hadn’t noticed the uptick of muskiness in the room, the heady scent of arousal before now.

It’s not yours. 

“Me?” You ask, letting Soap help you into a seated position. 

Soap smirks. “It wasnae me that tented his breeks this time.” 

Your face warms even more, your body feeling like it might explode. 

“Come on, hen.” He says, slipping his hands under your arms to lift you to your feet. “There’s still time tae shower before breakfast.” 

“I can assume you know why you were called in here sooner than our normal weekly meeting time.” Dr. Keller says as you sit in her office. 

“Because I punched Corporal Allen.” You say with a wince. 

Dr. Keller nods. “Indeed. I just want to make sure you’re feeling alright, after that. Getting into an altercation with an alpha can be tough.” 

“I don’t think I’d call it an altercation.” You say quietly. 

“Maybe not,” She says, shuffling her papers. “But standing up to an alpha can be daunting.” 

“I wasn’t alone.” You shrug. “Ghost was there.” 

“I saw both yours and Lieutenant Riley’s account of what happened. I’m wondering, would you have confronted him if you were alone?” 

Her question makes you think for a moment. Would you have stopped? Would you have confronted him, much less punched him if you were alone, or even with one of the others? No, you likely would have ignored him and kept walking like you did with Gaz. You’d likely have gone straight to your room and cried a little out of embarrassment and disgust. 

“No, ma’am.” You say quietly. “I don’t think so.” 

Dr. Keller nods. “You’re aware of Lieutenant Riley’s status.” 

You nod, a frown pulling at your brows. How did she figure it out? “Yes, ma’am.” 

“I know because I have access to their medical records.” Dr. Keller says. “It’s required for statuses to be present in medical records since purebreds have to be treated differently, just as alphas, betas, and omegas have to be treated differently.” 

You do know that. You know that an injured alpha can get defensive if they feel cornered. You know omegas can die from stress if they’re not taken care of correctly. You know betas can get overwhelmed by large groups of injured people all in the same place without proper training to filter out the scents of agony and suffering. 

“I think you reacted to his scent.” Dr. Keller continues. “You mentioned feeling a sudden rush of uncontrollable anger. Do you remember smelling anything at that moment?” 

You nod. “Ozone.” 

She nods, the pieces beginning to come together in your own head. “I’m sure you’ve figured out how different purebred alpha’s are and how much more potent their scents are. Your own status makes you more susceptible to their scents and the changes in them. You were reacting to the change in his scent. Your omega sensed a threat, and took over for a moment to defend you. It’s a natural response in omegas towards those they see as protectors, or even packmates.” 

Your eyes widen a bit at her words. Ghost is technically your packmate. He’s an alpha in your pack, but you’ve never considered that you see him as anything but. He has defended you, and he had defended you not long before your altercation with Corporal Allen. Had your omega begun to cling to him out of a sheer need for protection after something like what happened in the mess? 

You would like Ghost to see you as more than just an omega in his pack, more than just Price’s omega. You know he’d never claim you, but you’d at least like to get onto friendly terms with him. Soap said it had taken proving himself before Ghost started to accept him. You’re hoping your time spent learning how to fight helps you prove yourself, that you’re not a threat or even a risk. That maybe you can be an acceptable omega for his pack. 

“Aside from this incident, how are you settling in? How are things going with your new pack?” 

“Fine, I guess.” You shrug, starting to pick at your sleeve again. “Ghost is teaching me to defend myself.”

“Oh? Does this have something to do with what happened with Corporal Allen? Or is there a different reason?” Dr. Keller asks. 

“I mean, partially that but also, Ghost, he’s...hard to get along with.” You grimace. “I know that in relationships, a good way to bond with people is to get into their hobbies so you have something in common. Ghost...ghost speaks in violence and I think it would help ease some of my fears if I can at least defend myself.” 

“I think this is a great idea. It allows for some bonding time between the two of you, and it can also be beneficial to ease your anxiety a bit. As long as you’re being careful and you don’t get hurt.” She says, giving you a pointed look. 

You think back to Ghost flipping you onto your back on the mat, narrowly missing getting hit, how he’d pinned you down using his own scent against you. “He’s being careful.” You say, clearing your throat. “Price would put him through the ringer if something happened. Even just as an accident.” 

“How are things going with Price?” She asks, writing something down. 

You shrug. “Fine. He involved me in some training this past weekend. We hiked out to a watchtower and the others tried to follow my scent. We got to spend some time together while we waited.” 

“Have you done much of that? Spending time together?” She asks. 

You shake your head. “Not really. He’s...busy. A lot.” 

“You should start making an effort to get to know him more.” Dr. Keller says. “It’ll make it easier once your heat hits if you’re familiar with him. Have you knelt for him yet?” 

You shake your head again, not wanting to answer out loud. 

“Why not?” She asks. 

“He still hasn’t asked me to.” You murmur. 

“Do you know why omegas kneel for their alphas?” She asks. 

You nod. “It’s good for our brains and bodies. It helps relax us and soothes our omega, makes it easier to process stressful events and can prevent stress related diseases later in life.” 

Dr. Keller nods. “Correct. It’s an important first step in building that bond between an alpha and an omega, when it’s done correctly.” 

Bad alphas can use kneeling to control omegas, put them in certain mindsets, make them more subservient. You know this, you’d heard stories from your fellow omegas after watching their parents. That’s not kneeling. You never had the heart to tell them it was so much worse. 

“Do you want to kneel for him?” She asks you. 

That word again. 

You do want to kneel for him. You’ve wanted to since this past Saturday in the watchtower. You’ve felt that urge, that drive to drop to your knees beside him and let yourself go, let him carry everything you’ve been feeling over the last week. 

You nod slowly, ripping one of the strings off your sleeve. You’re fighting the tears, fighting the emotions welling up inside you. You can feel them building, pushing against your stomach and your chest, threatening to burst right out of your skin and leave you nothing but an empty carcass. You’re breathing has picked up, shaking a bit as you inhale deeply. 

“Why haven’t you asked?” Dr. Keller asks, her brows furrowing as she stares at you. 

“I don’t know how!” The words tear from your lips, almost echoing as they bounce off the walls like projectiles. You haven’t so much as raised your voice in years, much less to a person of authority, but you can’t stop. The dam has been breached. “Everyone keeps asking me what I want, but I don’t know how to want!” Tears cascade down your cheeks, your breaths coming in sharp gasps. You cover your face with your hands, muffling your sobs. “I’m not supposed to want.” 

“Hey,” Dr. Keller’s voice is soft as she kneels in front of you, her hands trying to gently pry yours away from your face. “Who told you that?” 

“That’s what we’re taught!” You hiccup, letting her pull your hands from your face. The tears are still falling, lips trembling as you sob. “We’re supposed to be good omegas. Obedient and serve our alphas. We don’t want anything, we’re only supposed to give.” 

“Well that’s a load of bullshit if I’ve ever heard it.” 

Dr. Keller’s words shock you into reality, your sobs halting with a sharp inhale. You stare at her, the tears still spilling from your eyes. Your hands are closed into fists, your sore knuckles aching from the strain. 

“You’re an omega. It’s in your nature to want, to need. You can’t help your alpha if your own needs aren’t being met first. It’s okay to need things, to want things. Are there things you want?” 

“Softer blankets. Fluffier pillows. A nightlight. Something to put on my walls. Strawberry scented body wash. Some goddamn authentic Mexican food.” 

Dr. Keller chuckles lightly. “I can agree with you on that last one.” She squeezes your arms gently. “You’re allowed to ask for things. You’re not a soldier, and even they are allowed to have things of their own, comfort items, with them. It doesn’t have to be material things either that you ask for. I’m sure your pack would find a way to bend over backwards if you asked them.” 

She’s right. The book says omegas can hold great power over the members of their packs if they try. A mix of playing their instincts and the right behavior and temperament can have betas and alphas wrapped around your finger. The idea of having such control over four powerful men makes your head spin. 

“I want Soap to kiss me.” You blurt out, your face warming as you hastily wipe at your tears to hide. 

“Oh?” Dr. Keller’s eyebrows raise as she looks at you. “This is a new development.” 

“We...we almost did...a couple days ago.” You say, burying your face in your hands. “But I stopped it because I thought maybe Price...but then he said he didn’t care...” 

Dr. Keller gently wraps her hands around your wrists, lowering your hands. “It’s okay to want that, and it’s okay to want to kneel for Price. I bet he’d be delighted if you asked him. I bet he was waiting because he didn't think you were ready for it yet.”  

The calming beta scent washes over you, Dr. Keller projecting it to try and help you calm down. Your tears have stopped, your breathing starting to slow as the gentle almond scent goes straight to your brain. 

“I’d like us to still meet for our regularly scheduled appointment this week, but I’m giving you an assignment to complete between then and now.” Dr. Keller says. “I want you to ask one of the members of your pack for one thing that you want. You can pick what it is, and who you ask, but I want to hear about it when I see you later this week, understood?” 

You push back the nerves twisting in your stomach. “Yes, ma’am.” 

“Good.” She pushes herself up to stand. “You can stay here as long as you want. Just let me know when you’re ready to go back to the barracks. Take your time. You are my only patient.” 

She grabs the paperwork off the couch before moving to her desk. You watch her for a moment before letting your eyes wander. You wipe at your face, your cheeks feeling puffy from your tears. You’re glad she’s giving you time to relax. The last thing you needed was to run into a member of your pack like this. 

That’s not a conversation you want to have right now. 

You take deep breaths, letting the beta scent permeating the air calm you down. You sink down further into the chair, letting it surround you. It’s soft, the cushions pressing around you like a hug. You wonder how she managed to get it in the hard, “function-above-all” world of the military. You wonder how she got most things in her office, or maybe if she’d brought them with her. 

It was likely Kate’s doing, you think. The office space was made for an omega, set up to be as comforting as possible. Though, you don't doubt Dr. Keller would have argued her case for having these things fearlessly if she had to. 

You stay in her office for a while, listening to the clacking of her keyboard as the soothing beta scent washes over you. Your eyes are still burning a bit as you force yourself out of the chair, out of the soft comfort you could spend days wrapped in. 

“I’m ready to go now.” You say quietly. 

“Okay.” Dr. Keller says, finishing what she was typing before she stands, grabbing her keys. 

She locks the office behind you before you leave the medical center, pulling up your hood to protect you from the drizzling rain. You’re growing used to the perpetually grey skies and sudden rainstorms. 

Dr. Keller squeezes your arm gently as you stop at the door to the barracks. “Remember what I told you. I’ll see you in a few days, alright?” 

You nod. “Thank you.” 

She smiles softly. “You did good today. I am proud of you.” 

You slip into the door of the barracks as she makes her way back to the medical center, your shoes squeaking on the tile floors. You head back to your room, the silence in the barracks telling you they’re not back yet. 

You kick off your shoes, pulling your damp sweatshirt off as you sit on the edge of your bed. You stare at your ruined sleeve, the seam split to the edge of the cuff now. You got the sweatshirt from one of your fellow omegas at the institute, and you’ve worn it almost every day since. It’s turned a bit raggedy, and your picking at it hasn’t helped any. 

Ask for one thing that you want. 

It would be easy to ask for a new sweatshirt. You’re sure if you asked Gaz, he’d give you the one right off his back. Everything you can think to ask for, they’d have to buy. If you asked Soap, he’d likely commandeer the closest vehicle and drive straight to town and buy you one in every color, even if he didn’t have permission to. 

You could ask for something that’s not material. 

Warmth floods your face as you think about it. How would you even ask? You can’t just ask directly. You could, but you might die of embarrassment if anyone heard you. There’s nothing to really be embarrassed about, but you can’t help it. It’s a bold thing to ask for, and you’re not sure you’re feeling quite so bold today. 

You chew on your lip as the barrack door opens, their voices echoing down the hallway as they return from their morning training. They pass by your door, their own doors opening and closing. You get up, moving to stand in front of your own door, holding your breath. You could just step out, knock on his door and ask. He’s probably changing, though. You’d never get the words out if he thought it was one of the others and opened it half dressed. 

You have to do it, though, before you lose your nerve. If you don’t do it now, you’ll never do it and you’ll have to tell Dr. Keller that you failed. You’re allowed to want things. It’s your nature to want things. It’s human nature to want things. There’s nothing wrong with having needs and wants. 

You can want this. 

You repeat it over and over as you slowly open your door, letting it close behind you. You smell the air, finding the trail of his scent. It disappears down the hall and around the corner towards the rec room. Your legs feel shaky as you follow it, your stomach twisting anxiously. You can want this. It’s okay to want this. 

You turn the corner, finding him coming out of the rec room. He grins at you, eyes sparkling. 

You want this. 

“Hey, lass, was just lookin’ for ye. Are ye ready for lunch-” 

His words cut off as you grab his face, standing on your toes to press your lips against his. He makes a surprised sound against your lips, his body tensing. It’s quick, only a couple seconds before you’re releasing him, taking a big step back. Your eyes are wide with shock, almost as wide as his. His lips are parted in surprise still, his shoulders tensed. 

“Sorry.” You blurt out, your nerves only heightened. What if he hadn’t wanted it? “Sorry, I just...I wanted to do it and I wanted you to do it that day, but I’ve never had a real kiss before and I thought maybe Price would want to...but then he said he didn’t care-” 

Your words cut off as he grips your chin, lifting your face so you’re looking at him. The tension has melted from his shoulders, the surprise gone from his face. His eyes are soft as they stare down at you, his thumb brushing your lower lip. 

“I didnae know it was yer first kiss.” He says softly. “I wouldnae pushed it so far if I did.” 

“It wasn’t technically my first kiss, I kissed another omega at the institute but I don’t really count it cause I did it for her.” You shrug. “I’ve regretted pulling away since that day and Dr. Keller said I should start learning to want things and she gave me the assignment of asking for one thing that I want before I see her again at the end of the week and I could have just asked for something simple but-” 

Your words are cut off as he leans down, pressing his lips to yours again. It’s soft and sweet, his hand sliding from your chin to the back of your head, holding you against him. Your fingers grip his shirt, and you lift yourself onto your toes to press back against him as his lips move against yours. 

His forehead presses against yours as he pulls away, your breaths mingling as you continue to hold each other. “Gaz will be upset he missed out.” He says quietly, lips tugging up in a smile as he squeezes your waist. 

“He can kiss me later.” You say, pressing a quick kiss to his lips once more before pulling away. “After lunch.” 

Soap chuckles quietly, slipping his hand into yours. “After lunch.” 

You hesitate outside the door, shifting nervously on your feet. You could turn around and go back to bed, pretend like you hadn’t spent an hour convincing yourself to walk down here, like you haven’t been thinking about this all afternoon. You had already completed your assignment for the week. You’d kissed Soap, done something you wanted. You’ve fulfilled that desire, and it didn’t kill you. You hadn’t dropped dead afterward. If the others noticed, they didn’t say anything. 

This isn’t a want. 

You knock softly on the door, half tempted to turn and run and hide under your covers until you inevitably have to get up tomorrow. 

“Come in.” 

Your hand hesitates on the door handle for just a moment before you’re turning it, stepping into the office. He doesn’t look surprised to see you, though you suppose if nothing else, he had smelled you standing outside. The thought makes your cheeks warm in embarrassment. How long has he known you were standing out there? 

“What can I do for you, sweetheart?” He asks, setting down his pen. 

You shuffle nervously, clasping your hands in front of you. “I-I was wondering...I..um...” You take a deep breath. “I was wondering if I could kneel for you.” 

You bite your lip as he stares at you, the words having come out fast, almost meshing into one long string of nonsense. His eyes darken just a bit, his scent thickening in the air. 

“You want to kneel for me, sweetheart?” He asks, his voice low and rough. 

You nod, shifting your weight again. “Yes, sir.” 

“Grab a pillow.” He nods to the couch. “I won’t have you hurting yourself.” 

You grab one of the pillows from the couch, wondering how often he’s slept in his office. How many nights he’s spent awake, pouring over files, his mind working too hard for him to find any rest. You set the pillow on the floor before kneeling down next to him, facing his desk. You shift until you’re comfortable, sitting back on your feet. You let out a long breath as your eyes slipped closed, your fingers twitching anxiously in your lap. 

Price’s hand is gentle as it comes to rest on the top of your head. You relax into his touch as he strokes your hair, working his way down towards your neck. You force your mind to relax, easing away the desire to tense your shoulders, to draw them up around your ears. It’s pure natural instinct, one that will fade the more you practice, the more you bond with him. The more you trust him. 

“Ready?” He asks, his voice sounding far away despite the fact you’re right next to him. 

“Yes, sir.” You murmur, pressing your head into his hand. 

His hand slips lower, curling around the back of your neck. You inhale sharply as he finally makes contact with the sensitive area. His hand is warm, the tension slowly easing from your body as he presses his thumb lightly into the side of your neck. The back of your brain begins to buzz, your mind slowly filling with static. You relax even further, your head bowing just slightly as you feel the weight of the last three months lifting off your shoulders. 

All the emotions, all the fear, all the unknowns suddenly feel far away. All the apprehension and the anxiety are soothed to nothing as he holds you, the hand on your neck a firm reminder that you’re not alone in this anymore. You have an alpha now, a strong alpha that you can trust in, that will carry it all for you. 

You don’t need to be stressed or afraid anymore. A warmth begins blossoming within you, spreading from your core out to your fingers and toes. You feel a bit dazed, but not in a bad way. You’re not afraid of the feeling, not with your alpha’s hand around the back of your neck keeping you safe. 

You’re not sure how much time passes, how long you kneel there. It could be five minutes, it could be two hours. Price continues to go over his paperwork, his other hand steady on the back of your neck. It’s not until he’s done that he carefully pushes his seat back, kneeling on the floor next to you. He releases your neck, catching your body as it slumps over, drawing you against his chest. 

“Easy, sweet girl.” He murmurs, pressing your face into his neck. 

You’re shaking a bit, brain still dazed and flying as you breathe in his scent. Earthy, trees, petrichor. The warm muskiness of a content alpha. You made him smell like that. You invoked that scent. 

“Feeling alright?” He murmurs into your hair, gently stroking your side as you begin to come back into your body. 

You hum in affirmation, wrapping your arms around his neck. You haven’t been this close to him yet, not since the scenting and that was more of a formal closeness, a required closeness. This is because you want it. 

“Don’t let me go.” You murmur into his neck, clinging to him tightly. 

His arms tighten around you for a moment before he slips them under you, lifting you into his arms easily. He pushes himself from the floor, moving to sit on the couch with you on his lap. You let yourself go lax in his hold again, feeling calmer and more relaxed than you have in months. You feel safe in his arms, not that he would have let anything happen to you before. 

You’ve always been safe, you think as you let your eyes drift closed again. 

The water is hot as it runs down his back, contrasting the cool tile against his forehead. His eyes are closed, breaths slow and steady through his nose. He can’t get that damn scent of vanilla and sweet, sweet omega arousal out of his head. He drives his fist into the wall with a growl, cursing the blood rushing south. 

He can’t forget the way you felt under him, pinned so easily and helpless beneath him. He hates the way his cock twitches at the thought of the pout on your lips as he’d swung at you, narrowly missing you too many times. The way you tried to jump him. 

He lets out another frustrated growl, slamming his forehead into the tile. A hand presses against his bare back and he turns on his heel, hand wrapping around Johnny’s throat, slamming him back against the shower wall. 

Jesus Christ, he’s going to kill the mutt one of these days. 

“Easy, Lt.” Johnny rasps, not fazed at all by the alpha’s actions. His eyes flicker lower, to the hard cock standing at attention. “Bit worked up, eh?” 

He lets Johnny go with a growl, stepping back under the water, turning it all the way to the right until it’s nearly freezing. He almost groans in frustration as the water shuts off completely, his eyes cracking open as Johnny’s hand trails up his chest. 

“Easy, big guy. Let me help ye.” 

Simon moves until his back is pressed against the tiles, eyes not leaving Johnny’s sapphire ones as the beta slowly kneels in front of him. Johnny’s hands trace over his hips, outlining scars both old and new. Johnny’s fingers finally reach his cock, wrapping around the thick length. Simon sighs in quiet relief as Johnny slowly pumps his length, their gazes still locked. 

Simon stares down at Johnny through his blonde lashes as Johnny leans forward, dragging his tongue along his head. A low growl rumbles through his chest as the beta circles his tongue around his head, smearing precum on his chin. He’s painfully hard now, breaking his gaze as his head tilts back, eyes fluttering closed. 

His fingers sink into Johnny’s mohawk as the beta takes his cock in his mouth. He breathes through his nose, relaxing his throat as Simon’s cock sinks deeper and deeper, Johnny’s hands closing around his hips to hold himself steady. Simon grips his hair tightly as he begins to move, bobbing his head along his length, his tongue pressing against the bottom of his cock. 

Simon squeezes his eyes closed as an image comes to mind, a smaller hand fondling his balls. His hand wraps around the base of his cock as he imagines soft lips on his tip, Johnny’s tongue tracing the parts of him that you can’t fit yet as you take him in your mouth. The sweet whines that would be pulled from you as he choked you on his thick length, Johnny whispering sweet encouragements to you. 

He can picture the two of you, you and Johnny with your tongues entwined, his cum stringing between your lips. 

He growls, yanking Johnny off his cock and pinning him to the tile wall. Johnny’s lips are parted as he breathes heavily, eyes blown with lust as he stares up at his alpha. Simon’s hand tugs at his hair, tilting his head back to bear his throat. Johnny lets out a quiet moan as he sinks his teeth into the delicate skin, leaving a mark he’ll wear proudly for a few days. 

“Turn around and bend over.” He growls to the beta, his cock still hard and throbbing. 

“Sir, yes sir.” Johnny says, smirking wickedly as he slowly turns to face the wall. 

Fucking christ, Simon groans. They’re going to be the death of him. 

You’re going to be the death of him. 

Taglist, part 1:

@bobaprint @ashy-kit @anunintentionalwriter @mockerycrow @hayleybarnesx @protokosmonaut @fruitymoonbeams-blog @blue-blue0 @hindi-si-ikay @hanellokey @thatonepupkai @redwites @kattiieee @141trash @ghostlythots @lothiriel9 @dillybuggg @beebeechaos @konigsmissedbeltloop @kaoyamamegami @thychuvaluswife @idkkkkkkk8363 @wallwriterstuff @bisky-business @smile-child-13 @anomiatartle @dangerkittenclaws @bless-my-demons @mystic60 @evolutionarry @red-hydra @lunaetiicsaystuff @cadotoast @linaangel @rancid-wasp @codsunshine @thriving-n-jiving @slayerx147 @ferns-fics @spicyspicyliving @cityoffallencrows @puppyel @ttsbaby01 @heeheehoohoohahahihi @sleepyoriana @ihatethinkingofnames10 @cassiecasluciluce @darling006

[heeology]

i want nobody but you | p.sh

synopsis → you and sunghoon have known each other your whole lives and although you've both dealt with jokes from classmates since elementary school on how you two would end up together, that never ended up happening; you two would brush it off and then move on. you never really thought about pursuing something with him romantically, especially since you like things with a more casual approach. but once sunghoon's girlfriend becomes a part of the picture, you can't help but feel these feelings consume you. being the way you are, however, you managed to push them down and you at least thought you got over them until you realize maybe they never left at all. or even worse: they were always there.

feat. → yujin (ive) & sungchan (riize)

genre → college au, friends to somewhat enemies to lovers, romance, smut, angst (eh, ig), slowburn (ig? srry lmao)

pairing → nonidol!sunghoon x fem!reader

warnings → MDNI, smoking !! (reader and sunghoon both smoke), drinking, cursing, mention(s?) of death, mention of hookups, reader is called and referred to (sometimes self referred to) as a: slut/whore; slutshaming, !! potential sh reference (pinching/hitting self; dk if that counts, but it's not mentioned after) !!, mentions of sex (obvi)

w.c. → 22.7k

a/n → long time no see lol. lmk if u would be interested in seeing some pics i took at the enha concert i went to :)) (i won't do vids because i was screaming like a baboon lmao) p.s. bear w me bc ik this is a long one, but i feel like i owe you all since i've been gone for practically a century, but pls give it a chance, i'm on my knees begging bc this took 3 days

disclaimer !! → i don’t ship any idols i portray as dating in this story irl nor do i have the intent to portray anyone in this story in a negative light, this is just for creative purposes, babes <3; this is all just fiction, take it lightly pls and thx

!!DO NOT COPY OR REPOST!!

-

-

-

Today has been a long day. You groan as you take a seat on a bench somewhere near the lecture hall you just left and you close your eyes as you lean back against it. You had originally thought your senior year of high school was torturous, but being a senior in college was far worse. Your eyebrows furrow a bit when you feel the weight of the bench shift a bit, meaning someone has taken a seat beside you. Your eyes open a bit and you turn your head to see Sunghoon next to you. A sigh escapes your lips and you turn your head away, closing your eyes again. 

Sunghoon sits there for a moment, looking at you. Lately, you two haven’t hung out as much and although he admittedly forgot to text you for the past week and half, you were still his best friend. He could argue, though, that “the phone works both ways”, so you’re not exactly innocent either. He’s seen you around campus, hanging out with some members of the basketball team, mainly the captain: Sungchan. You didn’t seem bothered by the lack of contact between the two of you, either, so it didn’t bother him or make him feel guilty that you haven’t hung out in just a few days. No…not at all.

“Nice to see you, too.” he mumbles. You stay quiet, honestly close to falling asleep on the bench, especially with the warm breeze that is gently blowing. He narrows his eyes a bit and leans back against the bench. He does the same as you, closing his eyes as he relaxes, but he frowns to himself. “You and Sungchan seem to be close.” he says, not really even understanding why he brought it up in the first place. 

This piques your interest. “What about him.” you say rather than ask, still keeping your eyes closed.

Sunghoon shrugs, still not really sure why he cares who you hang out with or how often or who they are or…anything like that. Maybe it upsets him to think about the fact that you might replace him with someone cooler as your best friend; maybe he was too lame for you. How juvenile, he thought to himself. But that’s what it felt like, to him, at least. “Nothing. I’ve just seen you guys hanging out a lot, that’s all.” Sunghoon replies.

“How would you know that; we haven’t really hung out or talked lately.” you reply, not meaning to sound snarky, but it most likely came across that way.

Sunghoon scoffs softly. “I have eyes; I can still see who you talk to.”

You open your eyes a bit and turn your head to look at him. “Stalker.” you tease. 

Sunghoon opens his eyes, almost as if he can feel you looking at him and he rolls them, not amused. “Am not…I’m just trying to start a conversation or whatever.”

“About the people I talk to?”

Sunghoon shrugs. “About anything…” It stays quiet for a moment. “It’s just been a while since we’ve talked.”

“And whose fault is that?” You ask, rhetorically.

Sunghoon frowns. “Well, I’ve just been busy-”

You scoff, “Yeah. I know.” You reply dryly.

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing. Just that that’s what you always say whenever we don’t talk to each other for a while. Like, I get it, you’re dating Yujin, big whoop.”

You’ve considered the possibility that he has just been busy with schoolwork, but no matter how many times you would give him the benefit of the doubt, it always ended up being because he was hanging out with Yujin. You weren’t really mad, per say, just annoyed. Severely annoyed. But what could you do? Ever since they started dating freshman year, you’ve felt like you were on the backburner. Which, again, you can’t really be upset about that. Afterall, she’s his girlfriend, whether you liked it or not. There is nothing wrong with her, you two got along fine, even if you don’t really talk or are even friends. You don’t hate her, not for any valid reasons, anyway. Still, despite how many people you know, Sunghoon is your only real friend and always has been. But it’s times like these when it feels like he means more to you than you mean to him.

“She’s my girlfriend.” He says, matter-of-factly.

You roll your eyes at his statement. “I know that,” you retort with annoyance, “you only ever bring it up every chance you get.”

“You seriously can’t be annoyed that I spend time with my own girlfriend.” He responds with the same tone.

Sometimes, Sunghoon gets caught up in things. Like being with Yujin, for example. He’ll be with her and then it just slips his mind to respond to a text of yours or to ask if you want to do something, he can’t help it. He knows that he’s your best friend and he’s certain that you’re his, too. Sure, Yujin means a lot to him, but you mean more, whether he would admit that or not. He just wants to make everything balanced, for everything to work out. But a part of him feels like something has been off since he started dating Yujin. Sure, he’s had other girlfriends, but never one for longer than a few months. This relationship is important to him. What if Yujin is the one? He can’t screw it up and he’s afraid to, so he makes sure to spend as much time with her as he can. He thought you would understand, but apparently not.

You’ve met Sunghoon’s other girlfriends, none of which bothered you as much as Yujin. Maybe because this one seems more serious. Maybe because she seems more important to him. The thought makes your stomach curdle. This whole situation makes your stomach curdle. You shouldn’t care so much, but you do. You hate that. “Whatever.” you reply, honestly not having thought of anything better to respond with. What were you supposed to say to that? Of course you understood, but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t suck.

“Besides, like I said, you and Sungchan have been hanging out a lot recently. Don’t act like you’ve never blown me off to hang out with him.” Sunghoon says.

“Barely.”

“Not barely. A lot. ‘Oh, Sungchan invited me to his basketball game to watch’, ‘Oh, Sungchan invited me to a party,’ ‘Oh, Sungchan wants to hook up’, ‘Oh, Sungchan this and Sungchan that’.” Sunghoon mocks, annoyed.

You frown. “Why do you care? You’ve got a girlfriend, so just hang out with her instead.”

Sunghoon frowns as well. “That’s not the point. The point is that you ditch me just the same to hang out with a guy who you’re not even dating. You don’t talk to me sometimes when you’re with him or another guy, so why are you so upset that I do the same with Yujin, who I’m actually dating?”

“Stop rubbing in the fact that you’re dating someone. Good for you, who gives a shit? So what if I do the same? It’s only because you do it first!” you argue back. You grab your backpack and stand up as you put it on. You start walking away from him and he watches you as you leave.

“Great talk!” he calls out to you in a sarcastic manner.

He didn’t mean to make you upset or try to “rub his relationship” in your face, he would never try to intentionally make you upset. So, why did he care? He doesn’t, it’s as simple as that. Maybe you doing the same thing to him with Sungchan bothered him a little. Maybe you wanting to spend your time instead with someone else you’re not even dating bothered him a little. But it’s not like he actually cared or anything. He knows he can’t tell you what to do or who to see, so why does he care? He knows he blew you off, so why didn’t he just apologize? Why did he bring up Sungchan in the first place? Sunghoon sits on the bench for a moment, rethinking things. Why was he acting like you were ignoring him when it was kind of the other way around? He sighs and closes his eyes again. He’ll figure it out later.

-

You let out a long yawn as the dim glow from your computer screen shines on your face. It’s three in the morning, and sure, you have a class tomorrow, but you can’t sleep and figure you can just skip your lecture anyway. Even if your brightness was all the way down, it still hurt your eyes every so often, so you would close them to make them feel better while you listened to the show you were watching. You hear your phone ding and your eyes open, your hand reaching for your phone to see the text.

“are you awake?” Sunghoon texts.

He knows you are. You almost always are, which is why he knew you would see the message. Although, he did anticipate the idea of you ignoring him. You were good at things like that, things that required a stubborn attitude. He didn’t mind your stubbornness, though. He didn’t mind anything when it came to you. He waited a bit, sitting in the darkness with just the light of his phone screen, his thumb gently tapping it so it doesn’t automatically turn off as he waits for you to text back. 

“yeah.” you text back.

It took you a few minutes and in all honesty, you almost didn’t respond. But you missed him, which even if he asks directly, you would deny. You wonder if he missed you too, but you shake that thought away.

“still pissy?”

This makes you laugh a little. Yes, you were, but you still found it a little funny.

“shut up.” you text back.

“wanna hang out?”

You sigh. Now he wants to? It takes you a while to reply with anything as you just stare at his message.

“can u bring the usual?” you reply.

He smiles at your text. “duh” he texts back.

You smile a bit, looking forward to actually hanging out with him. The whole argument was dumb anyway and you just wanted your best friend back. And after a while of waiting, you hear a knock on your dorm room door. You get up from your bed and unlock it, opening it as you step outside. He smiles softly when he sees you and you smile a bit back. You both quietly leave your dorm building before going outside and sitting on the curb. He sets the plastic bag he was carrying between you two and opens a bottle of beer before handing it to you. You take it and he opens his own, both of you taking a sip as a cool breeze blows softly. 

“Sorry about earlier,” he says quietly, “and for not talking to you for a week. I just got caught up with Yujin, you know?”

You take another drink, not really interested in discussing this anymore. “It’s fine.”

“I also wasn’t trying to rub her and I into your face and make you feel bad or anything, it’s just…” he trails off. It’s silent for a moment as you both drink. “This week has been shitty.” he mumbles.

“Amen to that.” you reply. He chuckles softly and you both clink your bottles before smiling and taking another drink.

“How’s your love life going, anyway?” he asks, genuinely curious.

Sure, there were other things he wanted to talk about, could talk about, but this is what slipped out of his mouth first. He was actually curious, he truly wants to know. He just wants to see you happy. 

You shrug, “The same; just hook ups.”

He looks at you for a moment. That’s it? You’ve been hooking up with people since the beginning of high school. Sure, you’ve dated some guys before, but they were all assholes; Sunghoon never liked them. He couldn’t stand them, to put it plainly. You deserve better, and he knows that. But he also knows you’re not into relationships. You like things to be simple and direct. But when it comes to how you feel, he knew you weren’t very expressive with that. Only when it comes to getting what you want. He kind of admires that about you.

“So…no one in particular? You just kind of…go after who you think is the hottest?”

You grin, “Something like that.” you take a sip, “So…how are things going with Yujin?”

You honestly hate that you asked. Why would you? Why would you want to hear about that? Surely, things must be going wonderfully if he’s so wrapped up in all that is her. But you’re still friends. It’s normal to ask these kinds of questions, right? Maybe he won’t really say much anyway and you’ll be a good friend for even asking. That’s what you’re hoping for, at least.

"Well... things have been kind of weird. She's been acting kinda distant recently; I don't know how else to explain it. She just seems really bored all the time. Like, the sex is good but it just seems like she's not into me anymore or something." he replies.

You give him a weird look as he brings up the topic of sex with Yujin. Gross. Just...Gross.

“Describing sex with your ‘girlfriend’ as good is never a good thing.” you say as you laugh a bit, taking a sip. 

Sunghoon scoffs a bit. Why did it seem like you were happy to hear that? It irritated him a bit, but he brushed it off. “Well, I didn’t mean it like that. It’s more like…it’s become something that’s routine.”

“Yeah, that’s probably not a good sign.”

Sunghoon sighs. "I know... it's just so weird though. I mean, we've been together for so long, and she's never been the type to get bored like this. It just sucks. I'm worried if something happened between us that's making her not want to be with me anymore."

You look at him for a moment as he drinks. You hate seeing him upset and you know that Yujin means a lot to him, especially since this is his first big relationship. You frown a bit as you drink. “Have you asked her?” you take another sip, “Aren’t people in relationships supposed to communicate and shit?”

"Yeah, I asked her and she said everything was fine, but like... I don't know. I just have a feeling that she's not telling me something, and I've tried asking her multiple times, but every time, she always says everything's fine." he takes another drink. “That’s pretty much what I’ve been spending last week doing, just…trying to fix what may not even be broken.” he mumbles.

You feel bad now for getting upset at him for blowing you off. It makes sense and you just got defensive again, not really knowing what he was doing. You sit there for a moment, not really sure what to say. Sunghoon didn’t mind the silence, though. He was trying to focus on Yujin and figure out why things feel this way when maybe, they aren’t even that way at all. Maybe it’s him. He isn’t sure, but he is sure that he already feels a million times better being with you, even if it is just sitting next to each other on a curb in silence.

“Do you cum?” you ask.

Sunghoon chokes on his beer a little, hitting his chest a bit as he coughs. He looks at you, not expecting your question at all, and as for you, well, you weren’t really expecting to ask it. It kind of just…came out. Your initial thought process was to ask more about his feelings on things in the relationship, seeming more like a routine, but it kind of led to you wondering if he even cums. In your defense, you thought that if he doesn’t, then maybe the relationship is going downhill. You look at him, as if what you asked was totally normal, taking another sip of your beer. He looks back at you, seeming to have processed what you asked.

“...yeah, pretty much every time.”

“Does she?”

Again, not something you really want to know, but you do want to help him.

“...sometimes, but most of the time she doesn’t.”

You suck air through your teeth, “Uh-oh.”

“It’s not a big deal, you know, so what if sometimes we don’t? It’s not about that, it’s just about…connecting or whatever.” he mumbles as he takes a sip.

“So, then what? Do you guys just like…do it yourself?”

“Yeah, so?”

You laugh. You can’t help it, it’s just too funny. Not his obvious pain with his relationship kind of going south, but the fact that he finds this to be normal. You at least found that funny.

“What’s so funny?” he asks, pissed off, but also slightly embarrassed.

“Dude, I'm not a relationship expert, but like...shouldn't people who have sex, I don't know, finish every time? I mean, I have never really had that happen often with any of the guys I hook up with, but hey, what do I know.” 

"Well... I guess, but it's not a big deal to me. As long as she enjoys it, that's what's important. And, it's not like it happens all the time. Sometimes she does finish, but it's just... well, not as often as I would hope..." he takes another sip.

You roll your eyes to yourself. Kind of out of instinct. If you’re going to be frank, you don’t give a damn about her.

You shrug, “I don’t know,” you take another sip, “you say you don’t cum sometimes, how come?”

“I don’t know…it just happens?”

You shake your head, “Nah, there’s a reason.”

“But the reason is dumb and I don’t want to talk about this anymore.” he takes another sip.

“Do you think she’s hot?”

What a stupid question. You wish you didn’t ask it. Why would you want to hear him talk about yet again how hot he thinks she is. It makes your blood boil and you would rather bash yourself over the head with your beer bottle than hear him talk about how perfect she is. But, there is a small, small part of you hoping for a certain answer. Only a small part.

“Of course I do.” he replies, simply.

“So, then, what’s the problem?”

“Sometimes I have a hard time finishing, happy? Jesus…” he mumbles as he drinks some more.

You roll your eyes. You’ve known each other your whole lives, you know when he’s lying.

“Mmm,” you take another sip, “no, you see, sometimes when I hook up with guys, I suddenly don't feel attracted to them, so then sometimes I don't finish. So do you just like sometimes not like her or something?”

He shakes his head, "No, I'm always attracted to her. But... sometimes I have a hard time finishing, and I don't know why that is."

“What do you think about?” you ask, kind of quietly.

A part of you didn’t want to ask that, besides, this conversation was becoming weird. But that small, small part of you was so desperately hoping for a certain answer. Fucked up? Yeah, most definitely, but that didn’t seem to stop you.

“About what?” he asks, actually clueless.

“When you’re having sex, what do you think about?” you ask again, taking a sip of your beer.

“...about her, that’s what you’re supposed to do, so,” he trails off, “Sometimes I…think about other things...” he answers, blushing a bit.

“Like what?”

“Just…random stuff. Why do you want to know anyway?” he asks, getting slightly defensive.

“Maybe that's what's distracting you. I don't know, spice things up with her or something. Or have an actual conversation with her about how you feel or whatever.” you mutter as you finish your beer.

He takes another sip of his beer. “Why are you acting like some sort of relationship counselor? You’ve never even really been in a relationship yourself.”

Maybe he wanted to piss you off with what he said, but only so you could back off. “Spice things up”? Yujin and him are fine, he’s deciding that right here, right now. He doesn’t want your help with this or to even discuss it anymore with you. It feels weird. Besides, he doesn’t want you to think that he’s…not good at sex. Not for any other reasons, just that…he doesn’t want you to think that about him.

You set your bottle down and look at him. “Because you’re my friend? I don’t know. Why do you care?” You hold your hand out, wanting him to hand the cigarettes he brought while your other hand digs into your sweatpants pocket for your lighter.

He reaches into the bag and hands them to you, knowing full well you could have grabbed them yourself, yet he still obliged. “So, in all of your hooking up, have you ever had feelings for anyone you hooked up with? And not those bullshit feelings for your douchebag exes, like actual feelings. Or have they all just been hookups?” he asks, hoping to change the subject.

You open the pack, “Hookups.”

“Every single one?”

“Mhm.” you answer, taking one out and putting it into your mouth, lighting it as you take a drag.

“So you’ve never fallen in love with anyone you’ve hooked up with?”

You laugh, “Fallen in love? How stupid.” you say as you take another drag.

“Okay, love might be a strong word, but like, have you never developed feelings for any of the people you’ve hooked up with?” he asks, finishing his beer.

“Nah.”

"Right, right. So, you're just all about hookups then, and that's cool, no shame or anything; I get it. But you've never felt even just a little bit of loneliness from it?" he asks as he sets his bottle down. You ignore his question, taking another drag. He knows by your reaction that he’s said something that bothers you. Whenever anything is mentioned that may reveal how you truly feel, you just block it off and move on. He sighs, not too sure why he bothered asking since you always ignore these types of topics. Sometimes, he wished you wouldn’t. He wished you would be more open with him. It feels like he can talk to you about anything and everything, even if sometimes he doesn’t want to, but he does anyway because you…well, you’re you. "I mean, it's gotta get kinda boring... always hooking up, never really connecting with anyone. Unless you don't care about that kind of thing."

“Love is stupid.” you reply flatly.

What a groundbreaking opinion. Truly, nobody has ever felt or thought the same thing. Great stuff. Sunghoon sighs at your answer, not really getting why you won’t just tell him. He wants you to. He can’t really explain why. It doesn’t have to do with wanting to get some satisfaction out of helping you or changing you, but rather, sometimes he feels like he knows nothing about you. You’re important to him, more than you could possibly understand, but still, sometimes, you seem so distant; like a stranger. He just wants to know that you trust him.

“So, just because love hasn’t exactly worked out in your life, you think love is stupid? I don’t really think that’s fair…just because your ex boyfriends were assholes doesn’t mean that true love doesn’t exist.”

For some reason, him talking about true love pisses you off. It pisses you off greatly. You can feel your skin crawl and anger boiling up inside you, so you take a drag from your cigarette, blowing out the smoke, wishing it was something else you were getting rid of.

“It’s not about them.” you take another drag, “Do you love Yujin?”

You think you know the answer already. No, you know the answer indefinitely. There is only one answer. Why would he have spent the past three–almost four years–dating her if he didn’t? You think about all the times he talked about her when they first started dating. You try not to, but your mind recalls all the details, how he said them, what he said, how he looked while he was talking. It made you sick.

His heart sinks a little when you ask the question. He stares at you for a moment, not responding to your question right away. He takes a long deep breath before he answers, “Yes.” You sit silent. You heard his answer, but you don’t want to acknowledge it. You take another drag from your cigarette, a longer one this time, blowing out the smoke slowly as you tap some of the tobacco from the butt of it off. “Do you…not believe me?” he asks, watching you. He can tell something is on your mind, you’re just having trouble saying it. He’s not asking to be snarky or anything, he asks in more of a gentle tone, just wanting you to open up or at least just say something remotely close to how you feel.

“No, I do.” you answer quietly. For some reason, it hurts to say that. It’s true, though; you do believe him…unfortunately.

Silence consumes the both of you, just sitting on the curb as time passes. Crickets chirp softly in the distance and the subtle burn of the tobacco from your cigarette fills it a bit, but not enough. He stares at you, both annoyed and concerned. 

“Then what is it? Are you trying to say there’s something wrong with my relationship?” he asks, suddenly defensive. Even he, himself, doesn’t know why he’s suddenly so defensive about it, especially since he brought up the issue earlier, but he doesn’t like thinking that you think there is something wrong.

“Jesus, it’s not like that.” you respond, knowing full and well it is like that.

“Then spit it out; what are you trying to say?”

“Shut up.”

You take another drag and he rolls his eyes, annoyed. “You know, you’re so annoying sometimes.”

“So are you.”

“Yeah, I know, but you’re worse.”

You take another drag, genuinely wanting him to shut up, or for things to be normal. Or better yet, for things not to be complicated. “Go cry about it to your girlfriend.”

“Screw you.”

“Ditto.”

“Whatever.” he says, pissed off.

“Yeah, whatever.” you mumble as you take another drag.

He continues to look at you, pissed off at how you don’t seem to care about anything. He used to like that a lot about you, how you never cared about what people thought and are able to brush anything off. Maybe “used to” is a bit strong, he still likes that about you, but for right now, it’s incredibly infuriating. 

“You know, I’ve noticed that you always avoid giving direct answers to questions. Maybe that’s why you’re so scared of commitment; Not willing to really speak your mind out of fear of hurting someone’s feelings or your own.” he says, hoping this would piss you off enough to just say how you feel.

You roll your eyes, “Shut up.” you say as you continue smoking your cigarette.

“No, I won't shut up. In fact, I'm gonna keep talking because this is one of the rare occasions where we’re actually having a serious conversation and not just talking about petty stuff.”

You roll your eyes again. “I don’t want to.” you reply, simply.

“Too bad. because I am really curious about it. So, I’m just gonna keep asking questions. Like, have you ever experienced real heartbreak before? Because you seem like the type that just throws people away and moves on with no remorse.” You become quiet. Sure, you weren’t answering before, well, barely, anyway. But this time, you feel like you’re shrinking. That type of quiet. The type of quiet you become when you feel like you got caught and you don’t want to admit to what you did. You just smoke your cigarette. “And you don’t just avoid answering questions about your romantic life, either. You do the same thing when it comes to family, friends, and anyone else. You just push people away and never actually let anyone get to know the real you.” 

“You know the real me.” you say, looking at him. In all honesty, you were insulted. He was seriously telling you that he “doesn’t know the real you” after you guys have been friends since you were two years old? What does that say about your friendship?

“No, I really don’t. All I know about you is the surface layer stuff that you’re willing to share, but I don't actually know you. No one does. Because you never let anyone get close enough.” he says as he looks you directly in the eyes, meaning every word he says. Well, maybe not every word, but it is how he feels. He doesn’t want you to get frustrated, but if that’s what it takes for you to finally say how you feel, then so be it. You do feel yourself getting frustrated and you look away, taking another drag. “And don’t deny it, ‘cause you know it’s true. You just push people away and never let yourself be vulnerable, ‘cause if you did, then they could use that vulnerability against you. And god forbid anybody ever find out about your deepest insecurities-” 

“Shut the fuck up.” you say, feeling anger seethe out of you. He sits there, somewhat stunned by your response. Not exactly that you became angry, but more so that he actually got a reaction out of you. He watches you as you put your cigarette out and stand up. “I’m going back to my room.” you mutter. 

He stands up. “Seriously?” he says as he sees you start to walk away. He scoffs. “You’re just going to leave? Like that? Whatever.” he mumbles as he grabs the pack of cigarettes you put back into the bag (the pack he specifically bought for you and always buys whenever you guys hang out like this). He opens it and grabs one, lighting it as he sees you turn around. You walk back over to him and snatch the pack of cigarettes from his hand. “The hell?” he asks, annoyed, as he tries to grab it back.

You hold it out of his reach. “You don’t even like red Marlboros.” you say, almost tempted to take the one out of his mouth, too just to spite him.

“Give it back.” he says sternly as he takes a small drag from the one in his mouth, holding it between his fingers as he glares at you.

“No.”

“It’s my pack of cigarettes.”

“That you bought for me.”

“And I want it back.”

“Well, tough shit, I’m not giving it back.”

“Give it.” he says as he holds out his hand. You ignore him and turn around, starting to walk away. He takes another drag, grimacing because you’re right, he doesn’t like this brand, but he’s only doing this to spite you. He gets even more pissed off just seeing you walk away. “Why are you always such a pain in the ass?”

“Could ask you the same thing.” you yell back.

He quickly puts out the cigarette and puts the bottles into the bag before catching up to you. “I'm not the one who’s always being super mean and acting all mysterious about everything. Like, what’s with all the attitude and snarky comments? You’ve been extra shitty lately.”

“Fuck you.”

He scoffs, “Yeah, that’s what I thought. You know, you’re being shitty, you just don’t wanna admit it.”

You stop walking and turn to look at him, throwing the pack at him. “Then go away.”

He grits his teeth and grabs the pack from the ground. He looks at you, “Whatever. I'm leaving. But just know, one of these days, you’re going to actually push someone away for good.”

“Hopefully it’s you.” you say as you cross your arms.

“Yeah, me too. Because I am so fed up with your bullshit.”

“Great. Go away.”

He rolls his eyes and walks past you, his arm bumping into yours purposefully as he heads back to his dorm.

-

As Sunghoon makes his way to his lecture, he sees Yujin in the distance talking to some of her friends. He thinks about your conversation last night. He had hopes of confiding in you a bit more about how he felt, but of course that’s not the way things panned out. He had no time to focus on that, even if he was feeling even worse now that he possibly lost his best friend for good. Shit…did he really lose you for good? He feels his blood run cold, but he’s trying to forget it and focus on her. She’s his girlfriend, he has to remember that. He walks up to her, smiling a bit. She looks at him.

“Oh…hey.” she says softly.

“Hey…can we talk for a minute?” She nods her head and stands still. Sunghoon glances at her friends and then looks back at her. “...in private?” Yujin glances at her friends before following Sunghoon over into the library, taking a seat at a table near one of the back bookshelves, a little bit of space between the two of them. “Is there a reason you’ve been acting like this lately? Do you not…want to be with me anymore?” Sunghoon asks, just getting straight to the point.

Yujin is quiet for a moment. “Everything is fine.” she says.

He crosses his arms, feeling himself getting frustrated. Why can’t people just be direct like you? Yeah, you’re not really direct with your feelings, but you are when it comes to anything else. “Are you sure? Because you've been really distant. We haven't been talking as often, you barely want to spend time with me... and it feels like you're avoiding being intimate with me, too. I had to almost beg you to spend time with me last week. Is there really nothing? Are you sure everything is fine?” Yujin listens and stays quiet. Sunghoon sighs. "You know, couples are supposed to communicate and shit, right? If something is bothering you, just come out and say it." Sure, he took a page from your book with what you said last night and perhaps some of what you said rang true after all, but he’s not really looking to give you a “you were right” moment at this time.

“You being friends with her bothers me.” Yujin says as she crosses her arms.

Sunghoon freezes for a moment, taken aback by her response. “...are you being serious?” he asks, not totally sure if she’s just messing with him.

“You hang out with her more than me to the point that I had to ask you to stop texting her whenever we would hang out and you always say you’re “just best friends”, but I don’t believe you. Do you have feelings for her?”

“Do YOU think I have feelings for her?” Sunghoon asks, becoming defensive while also avoiding answering her question directly. 

“Yes.” she answers, simply.

“What, do you think I’ll dump you for her or something?”

"She's a slut. You know it, I know it, everybody knows it. I don't care if you guys are close, I'm worried she is going to make a move on you and then you break up with me just for her to use you once and then ruin you; She's bad news." Yujin says.

He feels his jaw drop a bit at what she says. Did she seriously just say that? And so boldly? He feels himself become upset about the way she talks about you. He wants to defend you, he always has, but he frowns. What if this leads to Yujin breaking up with him? You did say last night that you two were done with each other, so why does it matter? He doesn’t agree with Yujin, but he wants to save this relationship…

“You really think I'm that naive? That I'd fall for a girl like her? Just because we’re close friends doesn’t mean I automatically get feelings for her and forget about you. You know I'm smart enough to not get mixed up with someone like her.” he says, feeling like his heart is breaking as he says it. He wants Yujin to feel reassured, but after saying this…it doesn’t feel worth it.

“So you agree.” Yujin says.

Sunghoon sits there, feeling like he’s about to throw up. Why is this so hard? Why can’t he just say ‘yes’ and move on? Why can’t he be happy with Yujin? He just nods his head. “I wouldn’t fall for someone like her.” he says extremely quietly, almost as if he never wanted those words to leave his mouth. But they did and it was too late.

Yujin smiles, satisfied by his answer. She leans in and kisses his lips quickly, “I believe you.” she says softly.

Sunghoon hesitates, not glad that she believes him. Not glad that she said those things about you. Not glad that he said those things about you. He’s just not happy. He gives her a small smile and kisses her cheek quickly. “I’m glad.”

-

You are sitting on a bench, scrolling through your phone as you wait for your next lecture to start soon. Sunghoon sees you as he exits his lecture hall and his gaze lingers on you for a moment. He sighs to himself a bit, feeling like he was being pulled in two different directions. The more he thinks about it, he feels as though Yujin was giving him an ultimatum to choose you or her. If she said it outright, there isn’t a cell in his body that would hesitate to choose you. He thinks back to his conversation with Yujin in the library and he feels sick; he knows he did something wrong. 

He walks over to you and takes a seat next to you, just wanting to make up and move on. To his surprise, however, you get up immediately and take your bag before walking away. He sits there, confused, but figures you’re still upset about the argument last night. He gets up and he follows you before catching up and gently grabbing your arm, but you end up taking it away and start walking again. He bites the inside of his cheek before stepping in front of you, “Why are you walking away from me?”

“Get away from me.”

“No.” he said as quickly as the words left your mouth.

You look at him, feeling your eyes sting, hot tears wanting to form, but you blink them away. “You should probably go find your girlfriend, you wouldn’t want to be seen hanging out with a slut like me, right?” you ask rhetorically.

“Hey-,” he cuts you off, frowning instantly when you call yourself that. “Stop it…you know I don’t see you that way.”

“That’s a fucking lie; I heard you talking to Yujin. Or are you surprised about that too since you were in the library and someone like me couldn’t possibly be in a place like that.” you say as you cross your arms, swallowing as if that will help mask your clear frustration.

“...what?” he asks quietly, freezing as he realizes what you’re saying.

“I heard you. I heard you agree with her when she called me a slut. I heard you say you "would never be stupid to fall for someone like me". Well, fuck you. Go be with your perfect girlfriend, asshole.” you say before you push past him, swallowing again, but this time to stop yourself from crying.

“Wait-” he tries to grab your arm again, but you pull it away and keep walking. He feels his heart sink as he watches you walk away. The world felt as if it just collapsed. He feels like he’s sinking and as he watches you become further from him, he feels like he’s lost everything. He’s holding his breath, not necessarily realizing he is, almost as if he exhales, he’s not sure he has the strength to take another breath knowing he’s hurt you; he doesn’t deserve to.

-

Everything moves in slow motion, all voices muffled, as Sunghoon feels himself being dragged inside of a party by Yujin. He can hear and see her laughing and talking with her friends as they walk inside the loud and crowded atmosphere, but he feels as if he’s hollow. He stands there like a zombie as Yujin talks and greets some of her friends. He’s not sure how it happened, especially since it was almost midnight and he honestly just wanted to go to sleep, but he somehow ended up here. His eyes felt heavy as they looked around the room, but he subconsciously stood up straighter when his eyes landed on you. It was like he had been resuscitated, his heart beating rapidly as he sees you and then he sees him.

Sunghoon rolls his eyes, noticing how Sungchan was standing closely to you, how his eyes scanned every inch of your body with some stupid, smug smirk on his face. Sunghoon rolled his eyes again and grimaced at the sight. He sees how you whisper something into his ear, Sungchan grinning as he places his hand on your hip. Suddenly, Sunghoon’s heart stopped again as his gaze fixates on his hand. His hand grips Yujin’s tightly as he clenches his jaw and his other hand curls into a fist, his fingernails digging into the palm of his hand. His breathing becomes heavy as he sees you smile, smile in a way he’s never had you smile at him before as your hand caresses Sungchan’s cheek while you clearly flirt back with him. Sunghoon was livid. He feels like an extra in his own life as he watches you fall for someone like that.

“Baby…?” Yujin asks, loosening her hand and taking it away from him since he was practically cutting off her circulation.

“I’m fine.” he mumbles, hints of anger and annoyance clear in his tone. He doesn’t look at her as he answers and she catches on.

She looks to where his gaze is and then she looks back at him, upset. “Why are you looking at her?” she asks as she crosses her arms. “You told me you don’t have feelings for her. I’m your girlfriend, not her.”

“Stop, Yujin, it’s not like that…” he mumbles, annoyed as he keeps looking at you and Sungchan. He watches as Sungchan puts his arm around your waist and he feels like the air has just been knocked out of him. His tongue pokes the inside of his cheek as he glares at the two of you, wanting nothing more than to shove him off of you.

Yujin scoffs, “I don’t even see how you could have feelings for a slut like her.” she mumbles, taking a sip of a drink her friend brought for her. Sunghoon keeps his attention on you. How Sungchan keeps you close, whispers in your ear to make you giggle and you indulge in it, how he touches you, and how he looks at you as if he’s some sick animal that wants to devour you. “Did you even hear me?” Yujin asks, pissed off.

“Yeah, I heard you.” Sunghoon mumbles as he continues watching the two of you.

Yujin glares at him and then grabs his hand, dragging him away from her friends. Sunghoon just goes along with it and as Yujin starts dragging him upstairs, Sungchan leas in and kisses you. Sunghoon’s eyes widen as he continues going upstairs with Yujin, her dragging him into an empty bedroom and closes the door behind them. Sunghoon feels like all thoughts had escaped him when he saw that and he stands there with only one thing on his mind: you.

“Let’s have sex.” Yujin says as she looks at him.

Sunghoon snaps out of it and looks at her, feeling like this is his first time seeing her tonight. He looks at her in confusion, not wanting to since he only has you on his mind, but he doesn’t want to upset her any further, so he nods his head. Yujin pulls him towards her and kisses him. He hesitates, feeling himself grimace, but he tries to ignore it and kiss her back. He doesn’t want to be up here with her, he wants to be down there with you. As they continue to kiss, Yujin begins to undress herself and Sunghoon feels himself tense up. He tries to forget about you and focus on her, thinking maybe helping her undress would help, but it doesn’t. Not even a little bit. 

Yujin moves them over to the bed as she keeps kissing him and he sits there, partially kissing her back and also sitting stiff as a board. He knows this is supposed to be hot for him, having a practically naked girl on him, but he only finds himself wishing it was you. Yujin kisses down his neck as she takes off his shirt and he feels like he’s zoning out, not moving a muscle. Yujin moves her hands along his chest and down his body and then stops kissing him as she looks at him.

“You’re not even hard.” she says as she frowns. Sunghoon just stares at her, not necessarily surprised, but he still feels bad. "What the hell do you even like about her? She's a fucking whore who opens her legs for any and every guy. She has nothing else to offer besides her fucking pussy, which probably is already stretched beyond repair." Yujin says, angry. "She's nothing! She's not even special and yet she always gets any guy she wants. Well, why does she get you too?" Yujin tears up. "I'M your girlfriend, not her! Do you even love me?" Yujin asks, frustrated.

Sunghoon knows her anger is justified and he feels awful for feeling like he wants her to be you instead. As he watches and hears her say all of these things, he feels bad for treating her like this, but he also becomes angry at listening to what she’s saying about you. He feels bad for saying it feels like he doesn’t know you, because he does, and he knows you’re nothing like who she says you are.

“Answer me!” Yujin yells.

“I do love you.” Sunghoon says quickly.

“...do you love her?”

He stays quiet. Does he love you? He doesn’t know how to answer that. He knows he cares about you more than anyone else, he knows that even when you two fight, he would never want anyone else but you to be by his side, he knows that you’re the only one who gets him, he knows he likes making you smile and laugh and sometimes when you look at him, he feels like he can just look back at you forever. But is that love? Then, what is it he feels for Yujin? Does he love you and not her? How come he never realized it before? Did he always feel this way?

"Why the hell did you even ask me out? Why did you even ask me to be your girlfriend if all this time, you've wanted her? If all this time you've been in love with her?" Yujin asks, furious.

What is he supposed to say? Has he always been in love with you? He thinks for a moment. He thinks about why he asked her out in the first place, about a week after you hooked up with some guy after you two just started college. Was that the reason? Was it because he just wanted something and he knows deep down, you don’t want the same, so he found it somewhere else? You…everything has always been about you, his whole world has always revolved around you.

Yujin gets up and gets dressed. "If you want to be with her so badly, fine. But just know, she's still a whore. She'll just use you and then toss you aside." Yujin says as she finishes getting dressed. "But by all means, go sleep with that slut. We're done." Yujin says as she leaves the room.

Sunghoon sits on the bed in silence. Just great. Now, he doesn’t have a girlfriend and worst of all, he still can’t have you. He sits there for a moment longer before getting up and putting back on his shirt. Screw this party, he shouldn’t have come anyway. He walks out of the bedroom and goes downstairs, feeling like his mind is in a different place as he walks outside. He stops and notices you sitting on the curb, smoking a cigarette. He feels relieved, not seeing you in Sungchan’s arms, and for a split second, he wishes he could just walk over and take you into his, but he pushes that thought away and just decides to take a seat beside you on the curb instead. You scoot away a bit from him, silence looming over the two of you and he feels even worse. 

“You shouldn’t be sitting here, you know. Your girlfriend might get pissy.” you mumble as you exhale some smoke.

“I’m not with Yujin anymore.”

You pause for a moment, “...I saw you two go upstairs.”

“She just…got upset that I couldn’t get hard. I just had so many thoughts running through my mind…” he trails off, not wanting to ramble on about it.

“Whatever.” you say as you take another drag.

“I wish I never asked her out.” he says before taking a deep breath, feeling like he said something he didn’t even realize he was keeping a secret, not even from himself.

“Why are you telling me this? In case you forgot, I am not your friend anymore. Not after what you and her said about me this morning.” You take another drag, “It's one thing for her to call me a slut, I don't care about her, but you? You agreed with her. You made fun of me. You're supposed to be my best friend and you say I'm a slut and then that you aren't "stupid" enough to date "someone like me"?  Fuck you, honestly. I was so pissed when I heard that. I know we fought the other night, but I never thought you would say that shit about me.” You take another drag. “So stop talking to me about your problems like we're still friends. You want nothing to do with "someone like me"? Well, then, you got it.”

Sunghoon stays silent, feeling as if everything around him is crumbling. You’re sitting maybe a foot away from him, but he feels like you’re on the other side of the planet. “I’m sorry.” he says softly, feeling ashamed to have talked about you like that.

You shake your head and continue smoking. “Whatever.”

“I miss you.” he says suddenly. “And, I shouldn’t have said any of that this morning. I was trying to reassure Yujin at your expense and…that was a big fuck up by me. None of what I said was worth any pain I’ve caused you.”

“Well, I don’t miss you. I don’t even care.”

Sunghoon stays quiet for a moment. “I have to fix this. Not because I feel like it will make me feel better to know I said sorry, because that doesn’t fix anything; that doesn’t make you feel better. I want to fix this because, even if you don’t believe me, I value our friendship more than anything in the world.”

You scoff and don’t reply, blinking away your tears as you continue smoking. “I don’t need you. Think what you want about me, I don’t give a fuck.”

“Hey…” he says tentatively as he notices you blinking away tears. He feels like he got punched in the gut and hates himself for knowing he’s the one that caused you to feel this way. “I know I hurt you…a lot.” he admits. He doesn’t know if you would want to listen to anything else he has to say, but he wants nothing more than for everything to go back to normal. To have you back. To just have you look at him. Anything.

You scoff, “You? As if.” you say as you put out your cigarette. “Don’t flatter yourself. Like I care about your opinion.” you say as you stand up. “I don’t need your pity and I don’t need your friendship. I don’t need you.” you say as you walk away and back into the party.

He doesn’t hesitate to follow you, not wanting to let you go. He can’t. He can’t bear the thought of you actually not being a part of his life, not for one goddamn second. He tries to catch up to you, but he stops in his tracks when he sees you go back over to Sungchan. It feels as though time has stopped and he was cursed with having to watch you be with him for the rest of his life. You whisper something to Sungchan, prompting him to grin and put his hands on your waist. Sunghoon feels like he’s about to collapse as he watches Sungchan whisper something back to you before taking your hand and leading you upstairs. He wants to do something, take you away from him, tell you that you mean so much more and are so much more than whatever Sungchan thinks about you. How you mean everything to him and watching you walk upstairs with some other guy feels as though you are taking away every piece of Sunghoon, breaking him apart. But he doesn’t and an hour passes before you walk back downstairs with Sungchan, his arm around your waist.

Sungchan whispers something in your ear before letting you go and walking over to his friends, all of them laughing and teasing him. You just walk back out of the party, feeling sick to your stomach; as if you just made the biggest mistake of your life; shame. As you walk down the sidewalk, the night suddenly feels much colder than before. You take out your cigarettes and start smoking another one. Sunghoon follows and catches up, “Can I have one?” he asks, not knowing what else to say, but wanting to say something. You stay quiet, but eventually extend the one you were smoking to him. You stop walking as he takes it, taking a drag as he stands beside you. 

You hold out your hand, wanting it back and after he takes another inhale from it, he exchanges it back. You take another drag, staying quiet, as you extend it back to him. He takes it as you two share the cigarette and he hands it back to you, almost wanting to just hold your hand instead. You take a long drag, holding the smoke for a while before slowly exhaling. “...you were right.” you say quietly as you hold the cigarette out for him. “It is lonely.”

He takes the cigarette, feeling hopeful that this is the beginning of an honest conversation, and relieved that you’re opening up. He hands it back to you, “Are you lonely? Do you miss having a relationship?” he asks, softly, wanting to make sure he’s being cautious so he doesn’t hurt you again.

“Not the ones I used to be in, no. Those guys were…well, you know.”

“Yeah…” he mumbles. You sigh and take a seat on the curb. He follows suit, seeing if you’ll say something else, but deciding to break the silence. “So…what kind of guy do you want?” he asks, deep down hoping for a certain answer. 

You don’t answer him and instead, ignore his question. In all honesty, you don’t know. Well, you do, but you’re too scared to admit it. “You were also right about me being a slut.”

“I-I didn’t mean it-”

“You know it, everybody else knows it…and I always knew it.” You take your cigarette back and take a drag. “Hearing you say it sucked, though, but I know it’s the truth.”

“I shouldn’t have said it. I was so caught up in trying to make Yujin feel better and fix things between us when it wasn’t worth it. Not when it came at your expense.”

“I know.”

“I should’ve still stuck up for you. It didn’t matter if she was my girlfriend, you don’t deserve to be talked about like that.”

You shrug and hand him the cigarette, lighting a new one for yourself to smoke. “I don’t care anymore. Hooking up with Sungchan just now made me realize it. Seeing and hearing his friends tease him for it…” you take a long drag, “I knew that’s what I am.”

He does the same and looks at you. “Did you want to hook up with him?”

“No.”

“Then, why did you do it?” You ignore his question and keep smoking. “Hey…” he says softly. He knows you’re avoiding his question, but he wants to hear what you have to say.

“What happened with you and Yujin tonight?” you ask, wanting to change the subject.

“Just…an argument.”

“About…?”

“That’s not important.”

“You wanted to tell me all about it earlier. You said something about you not getting hard and regretting asking her out. What the hell happened? I thought you loved her or whatever.” you mumble as you inhale more smoke, a part of you hoping it chokes you.

“I do love her. But I guess…it meant something different to her. She wanted things from me I couldn’t do.”

“Like what.”

“Like…her not wanting us to be friends anymore.”

You scoff before continuing to smoke. “You should’ve chosen her.”

Sunghoon raises an eyebrow as he takes a drag. “You think I shouldn't have chosen my friend who's been with me through thick and thin over someone who was basically controlling who I talked to?”

“She was just controlling that you don't talk to me. Can't blame her, she probably thought I would try to sleep with you or something. Besides, since when did us being friends for so long suddenly matter? It didn't when you agreed with her about me being a slut.”

“It matters to me.” He says, feeling his heart sink a little at your words. It seemed like you didn’t think your friendship meant anything. He takes another drag and sighs quietly before continuing. “You’re my best friend. I care about you more than anyone else.” You stay silent as you continue to smoke. “Do you really think I don’t care about you?” he asks, softly. You just keep smoking, not really sure how to answer. He sighs to himself as he does the same and his mind wanders to thinking about you and Sungchan again. He rolls his eyes to himself as he tries to push those thoughts out of his head.

“You asked me if I ever felt heartbreak when we fought that night, talking about if that’s why I have commitment issues or whatever.” you say as you take another drag. “Yeah…I have.”

“Was the heartbreak from…” he let’s the question linger in the air for a moment, “a relationship?” You shake your head. “So…what was it from then? Who broke your heart?”

You stay silent for a moment, just smoking “...i didn't realize I fell in love with him until he got a girlfriend, well, his first serious girlfriend. At first, I didn't really care, but then…” you go quiet for a moment as you keep looking ahead, not at him. “The way he talked about her, would smile a certain way when he was with her, like he's never smiled at me before...laughing at jokes they shared...seeing him kiss her, hold her hand…” you take another drag, “holding her hand..” you repeat, like you’re lost in thought. “It's something so stupid and simple, but I've never had a guy hold my hand romantically...but he held hers and I remember feeling like I couldn't breathe. I couldn't do a damn thing but suddenly wish I was his girlfriend instead. And then I realized. I loved him.” you take another drag, “I loved him and he was in love with someone else.”

He stayed quiet the whole time you talked. He took in every single word. He took in how you said every single word, how you looked as you spoke. He felt his heart break for you. The way you talked about it was nothing like he’s ever heard you talk about; so…innocent. “Did you ever try to tell him how you felt?”

You stay quiet for a moment as you swallow. “I almost did. One time. I just felt so tired from pretending and I didn't want to just hookup with anyone anymore. I wanted to be his more than anything in the world. I almost told him and then…” you take another drag from your cigarette. “He started telling me about how he finally had sex with his girlfriend. How hot she is. How he had never seen anyone so beautiful. How he couldn't believe he was so lucky to be dating her. Fuck-” you pinch your thigh to stop yourself from crying as you take another drag. “I felt so...gross. I had never had a guy say that about me, never had a guy be proud to be with me, but the way he talked about her and everything he was saying...I knew he would laugh in my face if I, just some slut, was in love with him; he would feel grossed out or whatever. No matter how close I thought we were, I knew right then and there I would never be like her. Never like the girl he wanted.” you take another drag, “So I didn't say anything.”

Sunghoon stayed quiet again, feeling awful. He hated that you thought about yourself that way. He hated that other people had made you feel that…him included. He hated this guy, especially, for making you feel this way. What a piece of shit. You deserve nothing but the best and this guy pulls this bullshit with you? He was about ready to punch him in the face. “And you’re still friends with him? After he did all of this to you?”

“He’s all I’ve ever had.”

“He’s not all you have, though. What about me?” he asks, intending to make something positive out of this all. He just wants you to know how precious you are to him because he cares about you so much. 

This, doesn’t help whatsoever, and you feel like you’re about to burst into tears. You can’t tell if he’s the idiot or if you are; maybe the latter. But when he says that, you just feel like sobbing, curling up into a ball, and dying right then and there. You pinch your thigh again, to prevent yourself from crying because you absolutely loathe it.

He notices and immediately puts his hand on yours to stop you. He hates seeing you like this and he looks at you, not wanting you to suppress this anymore.

His hand on yours, however, makes you feel even worse. Worse because it makes your stomach do flips and you can feel your heart beat faster. Worse because you know it only carries the connotation of a friend comforting a friend…nothing more. You pull your hand away and continue smoking.

He doesn’t say anything and he doesn’t try to take your hand back. It hurts him to see you pull yourself away. He just wants to make you feel better, feel safe, feel loved. Feel nothing but happiness because that’s all you deserve. But you don’t. He wants to give you everything, and so, he tries again to comfort you. He reaches for your hand, gently taking it into his, it enveloping yours as he holds it as if it is the most delicate thing on earth.

“Don’t.” you whisper, taking your hand away.

You didn’t want to. God, you didn’t want to. His hand felt like silk against yours, but you felt like you didn’t deserve it. Compared to his, your hand was like felt, worth far less than his. You didn’t want him to hold your hand, not like this. You wanted it to mean something, have some sort of value. Not for comfort. Not because he’s your best friend. Not because he felt bad. But because he loved you. Because he wanted to hold your hand and be proud as he held it. Because he wanted to claim you as is. Because you wanted to be his.

He lets go of your hand and stays silent for a moment. It was as if a part of him died inside as you pulled away your hand. All the thoughts that he was having a few seconds ago were replaced by sadness. His hands tightened into fists from the frustration of being unable to comfort you or take away your sadness. He wanted so desperately to try again, but he knew that there was nothing he could do right now. Slowly, he takes another drag of his cigarette, and you do the same with yours.

“Did you cry whenever he would talk about his girlfriend like that? Did you cry anytime he complimented her?”

You don’t answer for a while. “Yeah. When he told me he loved her, I cried later. After that, I pretended like I didn't care. And for a while, it worked. I would just hook up with guys and I would still talk and hang out with him because he didn't treat me like what everyone else saw me as. He never did. And that's one of the reasons I fell in love with him, I guess, but then sometimes...he would start talking about her and then I just...felt worse. At some point, I just kind of felt numb about it, especially after he told me about the first time they had sex. He talked about it like it was so special...like she was so special...and I just decided then and there I couldn't love him. So, I just pretended and after a while, I thought I didn't love him anymore, but one night, he started talking about how he couldn't lose his girlfriend, how he wanted to make things with her work and I felt that same feeling again, like I was going to be sick. Then, I heard him say what he really thought about me and that was the last time I cried about him.”

“What did he say about you? Did he insult you?” he asks as he feels himself becoming angry, wondering what this jerk could’ve possibly said about you to make you feel this way. But, you don’t answer, you just remain quiet and that made him want to punch this guy even more. “Do you miss him?” he asks, quietly.

“...i miss being oblivious to the fact that I love him.”

He feels his heart drop when you say that. You still love him? He swallows, feeling like he’s choking and as if all of the oxygen has been sucked out of the atmosphere. “So…you do love him. You’re still in love with him?” Once you ignore him again, the answer is clear. “You do still love him…” he mumbles. Anger courses through his veins because you’re in love with someone so fucking awful. How could you give all of yourself to someone who is too blind to see how much you’re worth? How much you mean and value you provide to the meaning of life it’s goddamn self? He watches as you continue smoking. “So, you mean to tell me, after everything he’s done to you, you still love him?”

“He doesn’t know.”

“He doesn’t know you’re in love with him?”

“I told you, I never told him.”

This doesn’t help him feel any less bad for you. Some douche was out and about being happy and in love while you suffer on the sidelines? “Are you ever going to tell him?”

You shake your head as you look down. How could you? Especially since you’re delivering this whole pathetic monologue and he still isn’t taking any goddamn hint. 

“Is it because he’s still with his girlfriend?”

“I don’t want to talk about this.” you say as you finish your cigarette.

He becomes frustrated, “Is he?”

“No.”

“So, they broke up.” You ignore his question once more. He waits a few seconds before speaking up again, “I’m taking that as a ‘yes’ then.”

“Why does it matter? Why do you care?”

“Why do I care?” he asks as if this question has the most obvious answer. He scoffs and takes another drag out of frustration. “Because I’m your best friend, dumbass.”

This only makes you frown as you pinch your thigh again to stop the tears threatening to fall. He frowns as well when he sees this and reaches his hand over again. “Stop.” he says as he grabs your hand. You look down at your hands and you take yours away again. He feels a lump form in his throat when you pull your hand away as a pit of sadness just keeps growing and growing in his stomach. “Why are you doing that? …do you honestly think I don’t care about you?” You just keep staring ahead of you, not looking at him once. He takes another drag and sighs. “Have I ever given you a reason for you to think that I don’t care? Have I hurt you like that guy did?”

His questions make you stay silent for a long time. You wish that you could just disappear. Or that you could go back in time and stop yourself from having these stupid feelings. Or…that you never met him in the first place. Maybe then things would be easier. Better.

“Just…answer me.” he says, pleading, almost. He wants you to understand that he is here for you, he always will be and nothing is going to get in the way of that anymore. He wants this to be clear, so he tries to hold your hand again to show his support, but you take it away once he does.

“Are you pretending or are you actually this clueless?” you ask, becoming frustrated, your voice having a hint of pain in it.

His stomach tightened when you rejected him once more. He doesn’t look at you, suddenly afraid to see your expression. He doesn’t know what to do, how to make you feel better. He stays silent for a moment and continues smoking. “Pretending about what?” he asks. You become increasingly frustrated and pinch your thigh again. He notices and grabs your hand again, “Stop.” he says sternly, but you pull your hand away. 

“Jesus, you’re the guy.”

He feels himself freeze. “What the hell do you mean ‘I’m the guy’?”

“Are you dense?” you raise an eyebrow. “You’re the guy I’ve been talking about this whole damn time!”

“...i’m the guy?” he asks, completely stunned. You let out a huff of frustration and stand up, walking away. He doesn’t hesitate to stand up and go after you. He grabs your arm to stop you. “Wait, you can’t just leave…”

You keep pinching your thigh, a part of you believing it will wake you up from this nightmare as you avoid his gaze. You take your arm away from his grip. “Just forget it.”

“No. You just said I’m the guy, right? The one you’re in love with?” He asks, all of his focus on you. You ignore his question and turn around, walking away. He groans and he moves in front of you, stopping you. “You love me?” But you just avoid his gaze and don’t answer his question. He sighs, “I’m not letting you leave until you tell me.”

“No.”

He frowns. “Look at me.” he whispers. “Please…” he moves closer to you. “Do you love me?”

“Why does it matter?”

“You tell me. Why doesn’t it matter?”

You punch your thigh harshly a few times as you finally look at him. Your breath hitches as tears well in your eyes, despite you trying to ignore them. “Because I’m just a slut.”

He grabs your hand and stops you. He feels panicked, not knowing what to do or say. He doesn’t want you to cry or punish yourself. “Stop it. Stop with that bullshit. You’re not a slut, don’t you dare ever call yourself that.”

“You said it yourself. You agree with everyone else. I know you don't feel the same. I know you'll never talk about me the way you talk about Yujin or see me the way you see her. I know you said you guys broke up, but so what? I know what I am and I know that's all I'll ever be.”

He feels tears prick his own eyes as he listens to you. He shakes his head, “Stop that. Stop saying that I’ll never feel the same. Stop saying that you’re just a slut.”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“It does matter! It matters to me. You’re not just “some slut”. You’re my best friend.”

You frown as you feel the urge to cry become stronger. You take your hand away and you pinch your thigh again, just wanting the tears to go away. What he said made you feel awful. It’s not what you wanted to hear. You didn’t want to be just that…and he just kept reminding you that that’s all you are. “...do you honestly think that makes me feel better?”

He frowns, “Fine. Maybe it doesn’t make you feel better. But it should. Because it’s the fucking truth.”

“Are you even thinking about what I told you? Are you even thinking about how you're the guy I've been talking about? How every time you talked about Yujin, every time I saw you hold her hand, how you talked about her when you told me about the first time you guys had sex, that I just wanted to curl up and die? You don't get it. You calling me your best friend doesn't make me feel any fucking better. It makes me feel worse than when people call me a slut. But I don't want you to stand here and try to make me feel better, because if you think telling me you care about me because I'm your 'best friend' is going to make me feel better, then you haven't listened to a damn thing I've said.”

He stares at you sympathetically. He stares at you as he realizes just how badly he’s broken your heart. As he realizes he broke your heart. 

“I don't want to be your best friend. I don't want you to tell me I'm your best friend.” You keep pinching your thigh harder, but tears roll down your cheeks anyway. “I wanted it to be me.” you say as you cry even though you keep pinching harder. “I wanted to hold your hand romantically. I wanted you to smile at me the way you did with her. I wanted you to talk about me the way you talked about her.” Your breath hitches as you cry and pinch your thigh harder, your nails digging into your skin. “I wanted to be special to you. I wanted you to tell me you love me. I wanted to be your girlfriend...more than anything in the world.” You cry harder even though you try not to and you dig your nails more into your thigh.

He’s never seen you cry. Not when you broke your arm, not when your pet goldfish died, not when your first boyfriend broke up with you, not even when you get incredibly frustrated. He has never seen you cry. But he hates it. He doesn’t want to see you so sad, so hurt, in so much pain…and he hated it even more because he–the one person you loved more than anything else–was the one who was making you feel this way. He pulls you into him, hugging you tightly, just wanting to take your pain away, just wanting you to…feel loved. But you push him away and wipe your tears, and he notices the imprints from your nails on your thighs. He doesn’t even realize it, but he reaches his hand out and gently touches the marks as he looks at them. He touches the ridges softly and your skin feels so smooth to him, so precious, but you push his hand away. His eyes travel up to meet yours and he sees you’ve stopped crying.

“Why wouldn’t you just have told me how you felt?” he asks, quietly.

“For starters, you had a girlfriend. The other reason: it doesn’t matter.”

“What if I never got with Yujin? What if I was single the whole time?”

“I didn’t realize I loved you until you started dating her…”

“Why her? I’ve dated other girls before, so why her?”

You shrug, “She’s the only one you really seemed to be serious about…the only one you told you loved. Besides…I’m not some sort of homewrecker.”

“I wish you told me.” he whispers. “You were never going to tell me?”

“No.”

“So, you were just hoping I would never find out?”

“Yes.”

“So, you were just going to keep that secret for the rest of your life?”

“Yeah.”

“So, you were just going to live with that pain forever?”

“Are you going to keep asking the same question?”

“I just want to know…” he says as if he’s desperate. “Why…why would you not tell me?”

“Because you were with Yujin! Because you kept telling me how much you loved her! How pretty you thought she was, how happy you were to be with her, how smart and kind and funny and fucking perfect you thought she was! You were happy. You were happy with someone who wasn't me and although that killed me, you were happy. I couldn't do that to you.” you say as your voice breaks.

“So that justified you suffering in silence? Why would you rather see me happy while you were in pain?”

You look at him like the answer was obvious. How does he not get it? You stare at him as you remain quiet, looking at him as if it’s your last time. “Because I love you.” you say, softly.

He feels like you’re looking at him as if he is the most special person to walk on earth. He swallows out of nervousness as he realizes you gave him your heart completely. “You love me so much that you were willing to put yourself through hell just to see me be happy?” He doesn’t feel worthy of that…but you seem to think he is. You love him.

“Wouldn’t you have done the same for Yujin?”

You don’t want to hear him answer this. You don’t want to know, but you feel like he doesn’t understand. You feel like you keep repeating yourself and he’s relishing in it. 

He doesn’t know how to answer. Would he? Hearing how you describe your love for him, he realizes what he felt for Yujin maybe wasn’t love. Maybe it was comfort. Or security. Or the fact that someone wanted to be with him so seriously. Maybe he did love her, but…not the way you love him. This sounds like love. This sounds like what he was supposed to feel. “Yes…” he says, not really sure if that’s true. He wants to believe he loves her. He wants to believe he didn’t waste almost four years on something that ends up meaning absolutely nothing. He has to love her.

“Then you get it.”

“Did you just hope we would break up one day so you and I would get together?”

You sigh, “You still don't get it. I know you don't feel the same way. I know I am not the type of girl you want to be with. I'm not the type of girl any guy wants to be with seriously.”

How could you say that about yourself? Sunghoon doesn’t believe any of that, not for a single fucking second. “That isn’t true. You’re smart, kind, funny, and pretty.”

“Stop.”

“No. It’s true. Everything I just said is true. You think no guy would be able to fall in love with you, but they would. You would make an awesome girlfriend.” he tries to reassure you.

You don’t want any guy.

“You’re not making me feel better.”

“What am I supposed to do, then? Agree with the bullshit you’re saying about yourself? Because that’s not fucking happening.”

“What I want you to say…you can’t.”

“Try me. Tell me.”

You just look at him. He doesn’t get it. He isn’t saying it because he doesn’t feel the same. This realization makes you feel like you’re crumpling. You look at him, defeated. If you have to tell him, you know he would only say it to make you feel better, not because he actually wants to. That. That’s what hurts the most. He would say it because you’re his best friend…but you don’t want to be.

“...are you going to try and get back together with Yujin?”

He pauses. He thinks about it for a second. “Right now…I don’t know. I guess a part of me wants to try still. Does that make me shitty?” He’s not sure why he does. Yujin is the first girl he’s ever told he loved…and he doesn’t say it often. Maybe he’s like you, in a way. He doesn’t really like saying stuff like that. It felt weird when he said it. But he thinks that’s just because he’s never said it before. 

“Why would I?”

“I feel like an asshole for even considering it after everything you’ve told me-”

“She’s the one you love.”

“I’m not so sure about that.” he says, truthfully. He just needs to think. He just needs one damn second to think.

“Then let me make it clear: be with her. From my perspective, she's the one you want. What I told you, how I so stupidly cried in front of you, that doesn't matter. I told you this earlier: you should've chosen her. So just, make up with her tomorrow or whatever and be with her.” you swallow. “...but I can't be your friend.”

He sees you giving up. He hears it. He hates it. His mind is running a thousand miles per minute, he can’t fucking think and it’s pissing him off. “It’s not that easy. I can’t just ‘choose’ between the two of you. I’m confused, I just…I want to be with whoever makes me happy.”

He’s always been happy with you. Sure, you two fought, but you always got over it. You make him happy. So goddamn happy. But he’s scared. He just gave nearly four years of his life to Yujin…what if it’s because he does love her? 

“That’s her.”

“How are you so sure it’s not you?”

“I know.”

He groans in frustration. “So, I have to choose between the two of you?”

You. He chooses you. He’s not sure about the rest of it, but all he knows is that he chooses you. Four years with Yujin doesn’t compare to the years you and him have had together. Nothing else matters. You. Just you.

“Just be with her.”

“What if I want to be with you?”

He hasn’t thought about it. Maybe he chooses you only as a best friend. What if he doesn’t choose you for love? …does he love you? He recalls the teasing from classmates when you guys were younger, but he's never really given any thought to it possibly becoming real. Does he love you the same way he loves Yujin? Does he even love Yujin? He doesn’t know…he just doesn’t know.

“You don’t.”

“And what makes you so sure that I choose Yujin over you? What makes you so sure you’re ‘not enough’ for me?”

“...because you would’ve chosen me first.”

“I can still choose you.”

You sigh, “You're making this complicated. You know she's the one you love, stop feeling bad for me like I'm some lost puppy and just admit it. I don't want your pity and I certainly don't want you to say you ‘choose me’ because you're confusing your pity for feelings. Stop saying I'm this great girl and stop saying any guy would be lucky to have me, that makes me feel worse. So just make up with Yujin and get back with her. Reassure her that you love her because you do and tell her I won't be a problem anymore because you and I aren't anything anymore. Problem solved.”

Is this really what you believed? Is this really what you thought? He just needed some time, he can’t think. He doesn’t know what to think anymore. You were speaking as if it was impossible for him to love you, but what if he does? How is he supposed to know? How did he know with Yujin? He’s questioning whether he even loved her since he can’t even compare how he feels about you with whatever he felt with her. He just knows it’s stronger. But stronger in what way? He sees how you’re looking at him and he realizes the only way for him to succeed in making you feel better–which is what he truly wants–is to just listen to you. He doesn’t want to. But he wants to see you be happy, even if it means he isn’t.

“Are you really sure this is what you want me to do?” he barely asks, the words leaving his mouth without any fervor, as if he never wanted to utter them in the first place. As if he doesn’t want to hear your answer; see you walk out of his life.

You don’t answer him. You just look at him before walking past him. You hold your breath, knowing that once you exhale, you’re going to start sobbing. You felt so lonely. So lonely. You’ve always had him…and then you lost him to Yujin…and now, you’ve lost him for good.

He doesn’t turn around to look at you as you walk away, because he knows if he does, he will run after you and that clearly isn’t what you want. You want to let him go, at least that’s how he understands it. He doesn’t want that. He wants you. He knows that much, he knows he needs you. He’s not sure how things will look without you now. He never thought it would be like this, but here he is. …why does this feel so much worse than when Yujin walked away from him? Why does this hurt more than his actual breakup? The reason is one he doesn’t want to admit. He realizes the answer and he refuses to let it grow to fruition. He doesn’t know why it took him until now to figure it out, but he’ll realize that later. He wanted time…now, he’s got it.

-

Deja vu. That’s what this all feels like. Here Sunghoon was, again, at another stupid frat party around midnight. Here he was, again, with Yujin. He took your advice, he decided to apologize and get back together with her, and these past few months without you have felt like torture. Even using torture to describe it seems too dull. He has thought about nothing but you. He’s heard around campus about people you’ve hooked up with, but he doesn’t feed into it. As he stands here with Yujin at this godforsaken party, all he can feel is regret. He leans against a wall as Yujin talks with her friends and he practically chugs his drink. He doesn’t even want to leave the party because he doesn't think it's worth to waste any of his wants on anything but you. You make up all of his desires and he wants nothing more than for you to be back into his life. He finishes the rest of his drink and to his surprise, he does see you. He stands up straighter as he looks at you, but feels like his insides are on fire when he realizes you’re making out with Sungchan. On the couch. On the couch, you are making out with Sungchan. On the couch, Sungchan is running his hands along your hips and waist. On the couch, you let him. 

You would be lying if you said you didn’t miss Sunghoon. A part of you went missing the night you walked away from him. You’ve seen him around campus with Yujin and eventually, it finally felt like you were over it all. Over him. You wouldn’t say you’ve been getting around quite frequently, but you won’t lie when you say that you did get with some guys to help get over him. It didn’t work. But you won’t admit to that. To you, at least, you’re over it. Over him. Sungchan helped a bit with some of the lonely nights, but you two aren’t anything serious. He’s not into that sort of thing and, hey, neither are you…so this is fine. He doesn’t lie to you about how he feels or what he wants and for that, you’re grateful. Although, you do have to admit, making out with him feels boring. Being with him feels boring. It’s not fun like it used to be…and even then, you aren’t completely sure it was even fun in the first place. Whatever, you’ll get into it at some point.

Sunghoon watches, now it really feels like deja vu. Is he dreaming? Or…is this him getting a second chance? Is this when he can finally pull you away from Sungchan and be there for you? Finally tell you how he feels? How he felt the whole time…? Suddenly, his spirits are slightly lifted, that is, until Yujin crosses her arms and scoffs before shoving him. Sunghoon is surprised and turns his attention towards her. Some people look at them, but Yujin doesn’t care, she just looks at Sunghoon, furious.

“Do you even want me to be your girlfriend?”

Maybe honesty wouldn’t be best right now. “I do…”

“Then stop looking at her.”

“Let’s…not make a scene.” he says, trying to calm her down.

“Just be honest for once: do you love me or her?”

He doesn’t know how to answer. He knows his answer, he’s had months to figure it out. But…you made yourself clear. You were done with each other. He sighs. “Can I get a moment to figure it out?” he asks, honestly a bit surprised he didn’t just cave and reassure her.

Yujin frowns and scoffs. “Let me ask you this, then. Do you wish that you were making out with her?”

He looks back at you and Sungchan, seeing him whisper something to you and you giggling before he kisses you again. He looks back at Yujin. “Yeah.” he swallows, gathering all of his courage. “But, that sounds…awful. It’s like you want me to admit I regret getting back together with you or something-”

“Do you?”

“Yes.” he answers without hesitation. He feels all of his muscles tense up. Did he really just say that? Well…it’s the truth, but he never thought he would say it. He feels…better.

Yujin quickly squashes that by slapping him, “We’re done.” she says before storming out, her friends following. Sure, the slap hurt, but as Sunghoon looks back at you and Sungchan…the pain from the slap seems so insignificant in comparison.

You decide to tell Sungchan you’re getting a drink, so you get up from the couch and go into the kitchen. You pour yourself a drink and once you do, you walk to the backyard and take a seat on the patio. 

Sunghoon figures you want to be alone…but finds himself following you outside anyway. He walks over to you cautiously. You and him have spoken consistently for practically your whole lives, but he finds himself struggling to even say a simple sentence or ask a question. The time you’ve spent apart was multiple days…too many fucking days in his opinion. He can’t stand it. “Can I sit here?” he asks, referencing the spot beside you. You shrug as you take a sip of your drink. He feels relieved, baby steps, right? He takes a seat beside you and thinks for a moment on how to keep the conversation going. “So…what were you telling Sungchan?” …has he lost the ability to socialize or something because why was this the question he asks? He bites his bottom lip a bit in frustration at himself.

“Spying on me?” you tease as you extend your cup, offering him some.

Sunghoon chuckles softly and shakes his head. Hearing your voice for the first time in months makes him remember just how much he’s missed you. He feels like everything in his life is restored and he smiles a bit. “You guys were all over each other on the couch, is it really weird for me to wonder?”

You shrug, “I mean, just typical flirting and dirty talk or whatever. Why?”

He feels his breath catch in his throat. “Dirty talk”?...what the fuck? “Um…no reason…I guess I was just…curious or something.” he mumbles.

“Are you here with Yujin?” you ask as you take another sip of your drink.

He shakes his head. “Well, not anymore. She broke up with me so…I’m alone now.” he realizes how that might’ve come off. “Alone here now…not…me alone altogether…or anything.” he cringes and looks away from you, feeling completely stupid. 

“What? Why did she break up with you?”

“She…saw me…looking at you and Sungchan…so she broke up with me.” he says, not really wanting to say the other stuff from the argument. You laugh in response and he frowns. “Don’t laugh.”

You nudge his shoulder, “It’s okay. If she broke up with you for that dumb of a reason, her loss.” You say as you take another sip.

He smiles slightly. It feels like old times. It feels like he has you back. It feels like you want him back. “Yeah, you’re probably right. It’s probably best I don’t have her constantly being suspicious about me and you.”

“Especially since we haven’t talked in months.”

He feels caught off guard by your blunt statement. Sure, it’s true…but it sounds like you didn’t miss him. “Yeah…we haven’t talked in a while.” You just take another sip of your drink and he looks back at you. “I’ve missed you.” He waited for you to say something back, but you didn’t. “I’ve um…missed talking to you like before. Like, before…everything got complicated and stuff-”

“I know what you meant.”

He nods his head a bit, everything now feeling awkward. “So…what have you been up to? Anything interesting happen?”

“Nope.”

“Really? Nothing? Nothing at all?”

“Yup” you say as you take another drink.

“So…for the past few months, you’ve done absolutely nothing interesting?” he asks, his tone being more lighthearted and joking to try and diffuse the tension.

“No offense, but I’m not really looking to ‘catch up’ with you.”

Sunghoon feels his heart stop for a moment, but he tries to play it off. “Okay, ouch.” he laughs nervously, “So you’re not even remotely interested in talking with me?”

You shrug, “I dunno. These past few months without you, I’ve kinda just been doing my own thing, I guess.”

Your response left him feeling worthless. Like, he didn’t even mean a single thing to you before. Which, he knows isn’t true…but you sound like you mean it. “So, you haven’t missed me at all? Not even talking to me?”

“At first, yeah. But don’t worry, I’m not in love with you anymore.”

“...you’re not…in love with me anymore…?” he asks as he feels his blood run cold. You just shake your head and continue drinking from your cup. His heart sinks immediately. He feels small; insignificant. His mind jumps back to Sungchan and he frowns. “Are you in love with him now?”

“Him?”

“Sungchan.”

“Eh,” you shrug, “we’re not dating, just casual, I guess.”

“So, you’re not exclusive with him?”

“No.”

“And you’re okay with that?”

“Yeah.”

He feels himself growing jealous and frustrated. How could you give yourself to someone who doesn’t love you? Sunghoon feels upset, realizing he unintentionally did the same thing, but still, not to this extent. He knows you. He knows you don’t want this…hopefully. But he sure as hell knows that you don’t deserve this. 

“That’s ridiculous. How can you be committed to this?”

“I’m not committed.”

He groans, “That’s…not what I meant. What do you two even get out of this?”

You shrug, “Why do you care? I get you’re a relationship guy even though you’ve only been serious with one girl, but don’t shit on me and what I choose to do.”

The way you spoke got under his skin. “I care because I happen to care about the people around me. In case you haven’t noticed, I care about you.” But you just roll your eyes. “Don’t roll your eyes. I’m being serious. Why do you feel like this isn’t worth talking about?”

“Because we aren’t friends. We aren’t anything. I don’t need your input.”

It feels like you’ve slapped him in the face, and this time, it fucking stings. “What do you mean we aren’t friends? We grew up together, how the hell are we not friends?”

“Are you stupid?”

“Am I stupid?” he asks, offended and frustrated. He was starting to lose his patience. “No. I’m not. I still consider you as my friend. We grew up together, went to the same schools, hung out every damn day, how is none of that relevant?”

“We haven’t spoken in months.”

“So what?” he asks, feeling as though your friendship suddenly means less than nothing to you, somehow.

“I told you that night that I wasn’t going to be your friend anymore.”

He freezes. He knows. He also knows you don’t just say shit without it meaning anything. He knows you aren’t friends anymore, but he doesn’t want that. He doesn’t want you to be nothing to each other. He thought that if, maybe, he admitted he still sees you as his friend, you would admit the same. But you don’t. And now he feels that same empty feeling. “So…you’re just fine with letting us go without a second thought?”

You look at him, “Do you not remember anything from that night? Of course if fucking hurt; I was in love with you.”

“So it does matter.”

You sigh, “It doesn’t matter anymore; that was a long time ago.” you say as you take another sip.

He looks at you for a moment, feeling like his heart has become a punching bag and you were just taking any hit you could. Was this really the same person he grew up with? That he… “How could it not matter anymore? We used to mean the world to each other…how can that just…be…over?”

You look at him, “Because I had to get over you.”

“It’s not that easy. I spent everyday thinking about you. Everyday.”

“Why?”

“Because I love you!” He thought your question was so redundant, he honestly didn’t even realize what he said at first. 

“But…” you sit there, stunned. He finally said what you wanted him to say for so long, even if it was with a frustrated tone, still…it counted. “What about Yujin?”

“She…she doesn’t matter. You do. She always suspected I was in love with you-”

“Well, this is news to me.”

He deadpans. “Are you being fucking serious? I get I never said it before, but…” he pauses; he sees what you mean. “Okay…but…you never once thought it was possible that I love you?”

“No. Because that night when I told you that I was in love with you, you just kept saying I was your best friend. You’re so full of it.”

“I’m not full of it! I just…for fucks sake, I just didn’t know. I thought…I don’t know, I thought maybe for you it was just passing, or something, I don’t know what I thought I just…I don’t know.”

“Right. So as I stood there, crying my eyes out as I told you how much I loved you, you thought it was one sided.” you say as you roll your eyes.

“I…” he feels like he did that night, like he can’t think. “I just didn’t know, maybe something was holding me back, I don’t know.”

“I know why.”

He looks at you, relieved, thankful that you understand what he means. “You do?”

“Of course you didn’t want to admit to that. How embarrassing for you to have a crush on one of the school’s biggest sluts.”

He frowns. “That’s not what I mean. You honestly think it’s embarrassing for me to like you?”

“Exactly. And you knew that. I don’t blame you, no guy wants their girlfriend to be a whore.” You take another sip of your drink and you look at him. “Look, I’m not mad. I got over it and I honestly don’t care anymore. I know what I am and I know that until we graduate, that’s all I’ll probably be. But it doesn’t matter. Yujin breaking up with you not too long ago was dumb, you’re a really great guy, but you’ll find someone else.” You take another sip,  “I should probably head back in and find Sungchan.”

He felt anger wash over him. Not because you don’t believe him about being in love with you. Not because you were going to Sungchan. But because of the fact that you believe the things you say about yourself. You’re so special, so goddamn special, and Sunghoon is so scared as he realizes he may be too late.

“And what if I don’t want to find someone else? What if I don’t want anyone else but you?”

You look at him for a moment. “Do you remember how you would talk about Yujin with me? You may not remember everything you said, but I remember it all and I remember how you looked as you said it. You talked about her like she was the most special and most beautiful girl in the world. You had this smile that you only had with her…” you pause for a moment, “You may say you have feelings for me…but they're not like the ones you had for her, and that’s okay. I don’t want you to feel bad because you deserve to be happy, but you also deserve to find another girl that makes you talk and feel that same way…and I know that’s not me.”

You’re so wrong. You’re so fucking wrong and it was pissing him off. He wishes he just figured this out earlier. He wishes that he asked you out instead. He wishes that he told you he loves you that night. He wishes he kissed you. He wishes he held you and didn’t let go. He swallows, “You remember everything I said?” he asks, slightly surprised to hear that. Honestly, he doesn’t even remember what he said. Not anymore.

“Of course I do…I wanted nothing more than for it to be me.” you say quietly as you take a sip and sigh. “But like I said, water under the bridge.”

He feels tears begin to form. “Why did we have to grow apart? Why didn’t you just talk to me? Just one damn word. Something. I didn’t want to lose you.”

“I can’t be your friend.”

“Why not?”

You look at him for a long moment, just staying quiet. “...I’m only going to say this once…but if I stayed your friend, I would just keep hurting myself…I would still love you.”

He stays quiet for a while. Even the loud music and chatter from the people inside seemed to drown out as he looked at you; you’re all that matters; you’re all that deserves his attention. “...did it hurt when we would talk everyday?”

You sigh softly and shake your head. “Not until you started dating Yujin. Before that, everything was fine. But once she happened…it hurt like hell.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I told you. I couldn’t do that to you, you were happy.”

“I would have wanted to know. I would have wanted to be there for you…”

You laugh a little, “No, that’s weird.” You shake your head and still laugh a little, “It’s fine, I’m over it.” 

“It’s not weird. It’s not okay for you to act like everything is fine.” he says, softly.

“Why are you trying to rehash this? There’s no point. Or do you like to hear about how I used to love you and it gives you some sort of ego boost or something?” you ask, not wanting to dive back into this…not again. He shakes his head, but he sighs. What is the point? You aren’t believing him and you’ve said it yourself…you’re over him. You stand up and his eyes follow you, “I’m gonna go find Sungchan. Later.” you say, not really meaning the ‘later’ part, but nonetheless, you walk away and all he can do is watch you leave…again.

He heads back into the party, wanting to find solace in getting batshit drunk or something, but he continues to torture himself by watching you dance with Sungchan. His eyes only focus on you, sure, he’s jealous and pissed off that you’re with Sungchan, but he only sees you. Sees how you move and he finds himself wishing you were dancing with him. 

Sungchan pulls you closer, just whispering sweet nothings in your ear and you feel his hands grab your ass. You giggle a little and try to enjoy your time with him as he starts kissing your neck. You laugh softly as you dance with him and, unfortunately for Sunghoon, he’s bearing witness to it all. His hand practically crushes his red solo cup as fury ignites within him when he watches what Sungchan is doing. That should be him. Not that he would be so…vulgar with his actions, but it should still be him instead. He sees Sungchan whisper something to you as he takes your hand and starts taking you upstairs. 

As he watched the two of you making your way upstairs, his whole body shook and trembled in rage. Every step that the two of you took together enraged him. He hated the way you casually held his hand and how he casually walked you up the stairs. He hated how he acted as if he had every right to touch you like that. He hated the fact that you were both so comfortable with one another at this point. He hated the fact that he was leading you away to his room…

You were so focused on following Sungchan, you were surprised to feel a tug on your other hand once you reached the top of the stairs. Both Sungchan and you stop and you turn to see Sunghoon holding your other hand. 

Sunghoon felt at ease, like he was grounded when he felt your hand in his. This made him more confident as he tugged you towards him, wanting you away from Sungchan. This pisses Sungchan off and he scoffs as he looks at Sunghoon. 

“The hell?” Sungchan says, not in the mood for any games. He tugs the hand he was holding, pulling you back towards him, but you find yourself only focused on Sunghoon as your heart starts to beat faster.

Sunghoon pulls you back towards him, his grip on your hand tightening. “Back off.” he says as he glares at Sungchan. 

“You back off.” Sungchan says as he tugs you back towards him.

Sunghoon realized that you were just being tugged around, so he stopped, but he kept holding your hand. “Let go of her.”

“You let go of her.” He looks at you, “Who the hell is this guy?” Sungchan asks, annoyed.

“Someone who actually loves her instead of using her.”

You look at Sunghoon, surprised to hear him say that. Sure, he said he loved you earlier…but this time when he said it, he said it like it was what he meant to say; what he wanted to say.

Sungchan laughs. “You love her?”

Sunghoon glares at him. “Yes. I love her. Now back off.”

Sungchan scoffs and puts his arm around you. “Tell you what, bud, you can have her when I’m done.” Sungchan winks as he pulls you towards him.

Sunghoon feels enraged. This asshole was acting so entitled, acting like he won this argument when Sunghoon knew damn well he wasn’t giving up. The fact that he had the nerve to call him “bud” too made Sunghoon want to throw him down the flight of fucking stairs. How he treated you was disgusting, talking about you like that in front of you. Sunghoon tugged you towards him one last time and Sungchan rolled his eyes. 

“Whatever.” Sungchan looks at you, “You know where my room is.” he says as he winks at you before walking away.

Sunghoon grimaces as Sungchan leaves, but feels better once he’s gone. The whole time, you were just looking at Sunghoon and you feel as though your heart is beating out of your chest as he holds your hand. After what he said. After all of this. He meets your gaze and he looks at you in a much more gentle manner. 

“You deserve so much more…” he whispers, his breath lightly brushing along your face since you’re so close together. “I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry-”

“Stop.”

“No.” he says as he lets go of your hand and uses it instead to gently cup your face. “I wasn’t lying. You are all I’ve thought about for these past few months and you’re all I can ever think about. I’ve missed you every single damn second of the day and I’m sorry I was too scared to say it all before. I love you. And all this time, I’ve just thought about what you mean to me and the answer is everything; you mean everything to me. ...that seems like such a vague thing to say now that I say it out loud.” he chuckles softly, “But everything means nothing if you’re not with me. Eating, sleeping, breathing, blinking, are all pointless if I can’t spend one goddamn second with you. I’m not embarrassed of you and I only realized that night when you left that I’ve always been in love with you. Always. What I felt with Yujin is all meaningless when I compare it to how I feel about you. I love you. It was never her. Not for even a millisecond. You asked me if I would put myself through pain just to see her happy and I told you yes. I lied. I thought that was what I would do, but I realized I actually did that with you. I let you walk away because that’s what you wanted. I didn’t want that, god-” he takes a sharp inhale as he rests his forehead on yours, “It’s always been you…and I’m so sorry I never said it until now. I’m so sorry I put you through all of that shit. I’m so sorry, but please…” he whispers as he looks into your eyes, all of his focus only on you. “I love you.”

You feel your breath hitch slightly and you feel so tempted just to kiss him, but you hold yourself back. You smile a little bit and pull away slightly, feeling relieved. “...I need to smoke. You want one?” you ask as you take his hand, going into an empty bedroom. 

He closes the door behind the two of you as you walk over and sit on the bed, opening the window beside it. He sits beside you as you take out your pack and he smiles a bit. “Yeah, I do.” he says as you hand him one. He watches as you light yours and then you light his for him. You both sit silently for a moment as you smoke, it being a comfortable silence until he speaks. “Thank you.” he says, mainly for lighting his cigarette, but he does want it to apply to you not leaving him again.

“I forgive you.” you say after a moment.

“You do?” he asks as he takes a drag and looks at you.

“Yeah.” you say as you take another drag yourself. “But you’ve got to get better at saying how you feel.” you tease.

He scoffs playfully and nudges your arm. “Says you.” he mumbles as he continues to smoke.

You laugh softly and shrug. “We’ll work on it.” you say before exhaling your smoke and he nods his head a bit as you both look out of the window for a moment. You glance at him and inhale from your cigarette before gently pulling him towards you. He turns his head to look at you and you kiss him gently, shotgunning the smoke slowly into his mouth.

His eyes widen a bit as his heart beats rapidly. He closes his eyes as he inhales, letting the smoke slowly fill his lungs while he leans forward to kiss you back, indulging in the feeling of your lips on his even if it wasn’t an actual kiss. After blowing out the smoke, you break the kiss and watch as he exhales the smoke. He does it slowly, feeling as though his lips are tingling, begging to meet yours again. He smirks a bit after he exhales all of the smoke and looks at you. “Damn…that was good.” he whispers as he blushes a bit.

You grin, taking another drag, “I’ve missed you.”

He takes a drag as well as smiles softly. “I’ve missed you, too.” It goes quiet, but this time, a comfortable silence as you two smoke. He blows some smoke out of the window and looks back at you. “Do you think…we could give this another shot?”

You follow suit and blow some smoke out of the window before looking at him. “Our friendship or…something more this time?”

“Something more. Both, hopefully.” he smirks a bit as he says this, taking another drag.

You smirk a little back and chuckle softly, “I really want that.”

“So do I.” he whispers as his eyes lock onto yours. He smiles softly, “We’re going to be official.”

He reaches for your hand and carefully interlaces his fingers with yours. You take another drag as you smile shyly. “Good…” you say, softly.

Your fingers seem to fit with his perfectly; everything about you is perfect and it was things like this that make him realize it all the more. You hold hands as you smoke silently, both feeling a fluttering excitement in your stomachs as your relationship dynamic shifts to one that you both have been longing for before you even realized it yourselves. He glances at you as he exhales some smoke.

“Good? Wow…I was expecting some more passion out of that.” he teases, gently squeezing your hand.

You laugh before finishing your cigarette and putting it out. You turn your body a bit to face him, “What about…fucking incredible?”

He laughs loudly at your new choice of phrasing. He calms down after a moment, “That’s more like it.” he says with a grin before smoking his cigarette again. His gaze lingers on you as he watches you smile at his reaction. Stunning. He leans in, letting go of your hand, placing his left hand beside you on the bed as his lips meet yours, kissing you. 

You don’t waste a single second, kissing him back immediately as your hand makes its way to the back of his head, your fingers threading with his hair as you push yourself slightly forward, pressing your lips against his more. He inhales sharply as he moves his left arm around your waist, pulling you closer, desperately. He puts out his cigarette and discards it, using his other arm to wrap around you as well as he pulls you onto his lap. You part your legs, straddling his lap as you grin a bit into the kiss, both of your hands using their fingers to gently tug on the ends of his soft hair. You feel yourself fill with excitement, the fact that this is really happening after every inch of your body has desired this exact moment makes you feel restless. 

Sunghoon runs his hands up and down your thighs, squeezing them gently, before moving them up to your hips, and then your waist. His hands suddenly felt so big against your skin, his fingers sending shivers throughout your whole body anywhere they touch. He opens his mouth slightly more and you take this as a sign to slip your tongue into it. He grins, this time, and he pulls you closer to him by gripping your waist; your bodies now pressed tightly against each other. He moves his hands to cup your face and you move yours to rest against his chest, your fingers tightly gripping his shirt in an attempt to somehow kiss him deeper. His tongue glides across yours as he kisses you with increasing desperation. The need for you grows every second that passes, he has to kiss every inch of you, he has to make you his, he has to make you feel loved; the only thoughts devouring his mind at this very moment consisted of nothing but you and his need to ensure you only ever want him. 

The kiss becomes sloppy, both of your lips becoming covered in one another, and you feel yourself craving more. So much more. You bite his bottom lip a little, testing to see if this will make him decide to take initiative, resulting in him gasping softly and releasing a low moan. He liked it. He liked it a lot. He moves his hands back to your waist, pushing you down against his lap and his jaw loosens a bit as he loses his breath, feeling you finally press against his erection. You moan softly, enjoying the feeling of some sort of contact where you desperately needed it the most and it felt so good knowing he wanted you just as much as you wanted him. He couldn’t take it anymore, he had to have you. 

One of his hands grips your thigh and his other arm goes back to wrapping around your waist as he picks you up a bit and lays you back against the bed, not once breaking the kiss; at this point, kissing you has become his oxygen supply. Feeling your hands on him is the only thing keeping him alive. His lips part from yours only to kiss along your jaw, just below your ear, and down to your neck. You gasp softly and your eyelids flutter closed as you relish in the feeling of his soft lips kissing your skin. He takes one of his hands and uses it to move some of your hair out of the way, placing it on the back of your head, pulling your hair softly to move your head back so he has more room to work with on your neck. You let out a soft moan, feeling him leave open mouthed kisses on every single inch of your skin, him making sure he doesn’t miss a single spot. 

He opens his eyes a bit and looks at you, to see how he’s making you feel. He watches as your lips part slightly as you take in small gasps of air, as if he leaves you utterly breathless; you’ve never looked more beautiful. He watches to see what spot of your neck when he kisses it that you seem to like the most. Once he gets to a certain spot and watches you bite your bottom lip a bit, he smirks slightly against your skin and sucks gently on the area. His tongue laps the spot a bit as he sucks and nibbles on it; this was his spot now. You moan softly and you feel your breath slightly catch in your throat as he leaves a hickey. He leaves a few soft pecks on the spot a little after he’s left his mark and he smiles a bit to himself. 

You feel the warmth of his body pull away from yours and your eyes open as you look at him. The moon shined a bit through the window, the light falling beautifully on him as he looked at you with a slightly flushed face. He looked back at you, seeing you laying on this bed, all for him, he felt like he was going crazy. He sits on his knees between your legs as his hands run along your thighs; he just keeps looking at you, admiring all of you. You lay there, looking at him, feeling your body become hot as he looks at you through hooded eyes, as if you leave him in a trance. Your breathing picks up in speed as he runs his hands painfully slow along your thighs and as much as you want to pull him back towards you, you feel as though you’re frozen. 

He takes a slow, deep breath, as his left hand travels up to gently take your right hand. He holds it up softly, separating your fingers with his as he loosely holds your hand, his gaze now focusing on your hands. He raises your hand up and leans in, raising it to his mouth. He softly plants his lips on your fingertips, kissing them softly, up to your knuckles, trailing his lips to the back of your hand, then gently turning it to kiss along the palm of your hand. He closes his eyes as he kisses down your arm--slowly--and gently lays your arm back at your side as he kisses up to your shoulder. His hands move to the hem of your short dress, slowly sliding it up, you raising your hips to help him, and he stops, leaving it bunched around your waist as he goes back to kissing along your shoulder. He gently pushes the strap of your dress down your shoulder as he focuses on kissing your body, moving along your collarbone. He breathes deeply, pushing the other strap out of the way as he leaves open mouthed kisses on your left shoulder, down your arm, his hands gently holding it up as he kisses up to your wrist. You watch him, feeling as if your body is constantly shivering, still dressed (albeit, your dress is pushed up), yet feeling completely exposed. His hand envelopes over your left hand as he kisses your palm like he cherishes your entire being, the way he looks is as if he’s wanted to do this his whole life. 

He kisses your fingers, knuckles, and fingertips, opening his eyes slowly as he lets go of your arm gently. He moves his hands back to your waist, pulling your dress up more and you sit up, realizing your body is shaking, and he kisses your forehead before pulling your dress off carefully, like he’s afraid if he does it too fast, you’ll break. He lets the dress fall to the ground, the fabric hitting the hard wood floor just as softly as he lets it go. It’s as if the room is silent, no muffled music from downstairs, no rolling of tires from the occasional cars passing on the streets, no soft wind hitting the curtains, nothing except the quiet breaths escaping from his and your lips. He feels his erection become even more painfully hard as he looks at you, and he swallows, honestly trying not to let out a moan just at the sight of you. His breath stifles a little as he places his hand on the small of your back, steadying you as he leans back in, kissing the top of your chest. He feels himself growing more desperate, desperate to feel every inch of your skin on his lips, on his fingertips. 

He breathes in sharply as he presses his face more into your chest, his lips sloppily kissing along your chest as his need for you grows. His tongue trails along your skin and he shudders, his hands becoming shaky as he holds your waist, all his focus practically on making out with your chest. A low moan elicits from him and from the way he was kissing your chest with such desperation made you moan softly in response, one of your bra straps falling a little off your shoulder from his movements. It’s as if he senses it and just decides to unclasp your bra, still trying to let it slide off of you slowly and hold himself back, but once he sees you take it off, your bare chest exposed, he feels himself get so close to cumming in his pants. He gently lays you back on the bed, wasting no time, however, to wrap his lips around one of your nipples. Your breath hitches and you moan as he releases his desperation. Kissing, sucking, and fondling your breasts, small whimpers coming from him as he feels elated to finally be doing this. Spit covers your chest almost instantly as he licks and sucks, kneading your breasts, moaning as the soft flesh squeezes and molds beneath his hands. And it’s only until he feels his breathing becoming quick, his dick aching in his pants, is when he stops. He pulls away slightly, his hair slightly covering his eyes as he stares at them, his trembling fingers squeezing and spreading his spit along them, his thumbs pressing and circling your nipples, and you feel as if ripples just went throughout your entire body.

You gently push his hair away from his face and he goes back to kissing along your stomach, down to your panties. You can feel momentarily the thin layer of sweat covering his forehead when you push his hair away, running your fingers through his locks and he whines softly against your skin, his hands gripping your sides and finally moving to the edge of your panties. You wait in anticipation, expecting him to take them off, so you raise your hips slightly, but he pulls away. You pout–only slightly–as you look at him with a confused expression. He smiles sweetly, as if he’s not the one that caused you to quite literally soak through your panties. He’s noticed, god, he’s noticed, but it takes everything in him not to behave like some animal. So, with that, he moves his hands down to your feet, slowly taking off your shoes for you before setting them on the ground. He moves back a little, leaning down to kiss along your leg, stopping at your knee, before moving to do the same thing to the other leg, but this time, he kisses up your thigh, leaving open mouthed kisses on the inner part of your thigh, gently nipping at your skin, and up to your hip. He gazes at you through his eyelashes as he moves to kiss along the other thigh, closing his eyes as he moans deeply against your skin, his tongue running along your skin.

He takes in a shaky, deep breath, and you feel your whole body become stiff once you feel his warm breath scatter so deliciously on your core. He gently places his hand over your sopping panties and your breath hitches, your whole body feeling grateful for some sort of contact. His brows furrowed as he slowly rubs his middle finger along your clothed slit, a low groan escaping his lips as he feels even more of your wetness seep through the fabric as he pushes into it. His mind feels hazy; he has to taste you. He takes his hand away, licking his middle finger and he feels as if his whole body exploded. He moans quietly to himself, before gripping your thighs and sticking his tongue out, licking a slow, long stripe between your clothed folds to your clit. Your eyes roll back as you gasp and moan. His fingers dig into the skin of your thighs as he feels himself lose all sense of sanity. He wanted nothing more than to take his time, but fuck, he can’t do it anymore. 

His lips instantly latch around your clothed clit, sucking and lapping his tongue as he starts to subconsciously rut his hips against the mattress. His saliva soaks your panties entirely as he presses his tongue more firmly, causing you to moan louder, gasping, as your hand makes its way to his hair, your fingers tangling in it. He moans and pulls away only a little before diving back in, pushing your panties to the side with his face as he makes out between your folds. His jaw is working overtime, his tongue lapping and picking up as much of you as you can give, His nose bumps against your clit as he loses himself in your taste, eating you out like a madman. He groans and moans into you, his hip movements stuttering as he licks all the way back up to your clit, moving his right hand off of your thigh before pushing his middle and ring finger into you, making sure to rub them between your folds before he does. He sucks and licks your clit, moaning and whimpering as he pushes his fingers in and out of you, not stopping until his knuckles prevent him. 

You moan his name, gripping his hair, pushing his face against your clit more as your legs shake and you cum, moaning his name. He whimpers and the way you taste sends him over the edge as he feels himself cum in his pants, his jaw falling slack a bit, and he pulls his fingers out, desperate to lick them clean. You let go of his hair, trying to catch your breath and he sits up, his face slick and covered in you, and he tugs your panties off. You look at him, watching as he undresses himself and you feel your body become light as he reveals more and more of himself to you. His bare chest, his abs, god, his biceps, you were about ready to start touching yourself at the sight, desperate for him, but you managed to stay put. 

He feels his ego boost a little bit, watching how you look at him, examining his body as if he is some work of art. He’s going to give you everything he knows you deserve and that thought alone makes him smirk. You notice as he takes off his underwear the wet patch from his prior release, making you grin a bit. He finally lets his cock out, it still being painfully hard despite him having cummed already, and you gaze at it. You feel yourself clench around nothing, wanting him so desperately to fill you up and he sees it. He smiles innocently, as if you both aren’t completely naked and horny before he grabs a cigarette and lights it. He takes a drag as he spreads the precum spilling from his tip all along his length and you watch his every movement, honestly feeling your mouth water at the sight. You sit up and he motions his head to the window as the cigarette sits between his lips. 

You turn and face the window, propping your forearms against the windowsill as you look outside, the cool breeze honestly feeling nice against your flushed, hot skin. You feel his presence shift behind you as he takes another drag. He sighs softly, looking at yourself propped like this, he places his free hand on your hip, lining himself up with you. He moves that hand and gently brushes your hair softly to the side, exposing your back entirely, and you turn your head a bit to look back at him. He exhales some smoke and meets your gaze, gently brushing his fingers along your cheek. 

“Relax…” he says before leaning to whisper in your ear, “and don’t be afraid to let the neighborhood know my name.” he says before kissing your cheek. 

You feel your body shudder at his words and he holds the cigarette between his lips as he uses one hand to hold your hip, the other gripping his cock before he slides it up and down, teasingly, between your folds. You gasp softly and he smirks, pushing his tip against your clit and he hisses a little, more precum leaking from his tip. He guides his cock into you, needing to quickly grab his cigarette from his mouth due to his jaw falling slack as he bottoms out into you. Your fingers grip the edge of the windowsill, your jaw dropping as you feel him finally giving you what you want. You moan and become breathless. He takes another drag from his cigarette before moving his hand from your hip to your shoulder as he pulls his hips away and then thrusts himself back into you entirely.

He filled you up perfectly, and he was damn ready to cum just from the way it felt like you perfectly fit around him. So warm and so fucking wet. He thrusts in and out of you a few times, groaning as you moan, sounds of you coating his cock more and more each time he goes in and out of you. He takes a shaky inhale from his cigarette, his eyes rolling back a bit as he thrusts a bit faster, before taking the cigarette out of his mouth, gripping the back of your head, a handful of your hair between his fingers, as he pulls you up and turns your head towards him. You moan and whine looking at him as he kisses you, shotgunning you this time as he keeps a steady pace of thrusting into you. You felt like you were going to choke, but you inhale what he exhales and as he pulls away, you turn back and lean your forearms against the windowsill as you blow out the smoke, gasping afterwards and moaning his name.

“Good girl,” he groans and puts the cigarette out, putting both of his hands on your hips, thrusting faster. “Such a good girl.” 

You moan at his praise and breathe quickly as all you can do is let out strings of long moans as you feel his cock press into you over and over, him somehow hitting every area that makes your knees weak and mind hazy. His fingers dig into your skin as his hips rapidly pound and slap against your ass, the sound of skin slapping becoming louder and louder. You moan his name loudly, and as a reward, he pushes further, you feeling his tip brush against your cervix and you gasp, moaning his name lewdly. He grunts, the way you just moaned his name almost made him cum automatically. 

“Louder, sweetheart, come on.”

You gasp for air as he fucks you so goddamn good, and you try to arch your lower back a bit so he can go deeper. You moan his name as many times as he wants, whatever it takes for him to rut in and out of you faster, to which he obliged. His breathing becomes heavy and your legs shake as you throw your head back a bit, your jaw dropping as you let out a long moan, cum spreading all over his cock. He grunts and whimpers, wrapping his arms around your waist as his brows knit together, him leaning down and kissing your shoulder as he pumps you full of cum, a low moan coming from him and onto your shoulder. He moans your name softly as he lets out a few more shallow thrusts, making sure he gives you every last drop. You feel yourself shiver as the warm liquid pushes into you and you whine a little. 

After a moment of him holding you close and staying inside of you, he kisses your shoulder softly again before pulling out and pulling away. He lays back onto the bed and you shudder as you feel his and your cum spilling out of you and trailing slowly down your inner thigh. He opens his arms a bit and you go to him, letting out a sigh as you rest your head on his chest and feeling content when his arms wrap around you. His hand slowly moves up and down your back before he kisses the top of your head. It’s silent for a while as you both lay there.

“So…we’re a thing now?” you ask, partly joking, but part of you was seriously asking.

He looks down at you and scoffs playfully. “After all of this, you still don’t get it?” he chuckles softly. “I want nobody but you.”

[freedomfireflies]

Punished*

Summary: The one where you've been a brat to your dominant, Harry, and he's finally had enough.

Word Count: 5k

Content Warning: 18+, smut, degradation, spanking, voyerism, daddy kink, sir kink, age gap (6 years but not explicitly mentioned), exhibitionsim if you squint

Right about now, somewhere across town, Professor Styles is pulling your panties out of his pocket.

If you’re correct, he’ll be standing in the lecture hall, giving his opening remarks for his Applied Mathematics class, and reaching for his favorite pen. He’ll dip into his pocket, feel the silky fabric against his fingertips, and he’ll know.

And you will be royally and magnificently fucked.

Because around the time he realizes just what it is that you’ve snuck into his jacket, he’ll also realize that it means you are somewhere across town not wearing any underwear at all.

And he’ll be fucking furious.

But that’s why you did it. It’s what he deserved. After spending all evening torturing you, teasing you, edging you, and taunting you…he left you. Gave you exactly 0 orgasms by the time you went to bed, claiming you didn’t deserve any after being such a brat all day.

In your defense, you weren’t a brat. No, you didn’t exactly do the few things he’d asked of you. And no, you didn’t communicate with him that you were struggling with your essay and feeling stressed and overwhelmed. But you figured an orgasm would help fix a lot of that. Instead, he left you with none.

You felt rather proud of yourself as you subtly and effortlessly dropped your panties into the pocket while you kissed him goodbye. Knowing he’d be pissed and that he’d punish you for it. You secretly hoped he’d pull them out in front of the whole class. Or in front of the other faculty.

Either way, you knew the text was coming. And when your phone pings as you’re leaving your own class, you can’t help but smile. 

You’re in big fucking trouble, little one.

You bite your lip with glee as you head across campus. You don’t answer his message and you certainly don’t apologize. After all, the day is far from through. 

Around four, you return to his apartment. His office hours aren’t over until five and then he has a faculty meeting which will keep him out until seven. It’s hard some days to be away from him for so long. You miss him. It’s even worse that he doesn’t work at the same university you attend, so there’s not even the slightest chance that you’ll catch a glimpse of him during the day. 

It bothers you more than you’d like to admit. And maybe that’s why you like to challenge him. Because at least if he’s upset and punishing you, he’s paying attention. You don’t want to settle into a routine where he comes home, gives you a quick fuck and a kiss, and falls asleep. 

Or even worse…ends the agreement altogether.

You want to know you’re interesting enough to keep around. That you make this relationship worth it for him. He wants to be dominant. And you want to be his submissive. And even if that means getting spanked and edged from time to time…that’s okay.

So, once you get back to his place, you make a plan. He isn’t too upset yet. He needs a push. A gentle nudge.

And you know exactly how to nudge him.

You find his portable security camera, the one he only sets up when he’s out of town and away from the apartment. You bring it into the bedroom and then you turn it on. You know it’ll send him a notification that it’s active and that it’s sensed movement. From there, he’ll be able to open the app on his phone and see everything the camera does.

Which will be you.

On the bed.

Naked.

And touching yourself.

Breaking his favorite rule.

He won’t be able to do anything about it, either. Between office hours and faculty meetings, he won’t have time to send you a chastising text. He won’t have time to warn you or threaten you. 

But he will be able to watch. You know he will. Even if he has to pull it up behind a notebook, his eyes will be glued to the screen and the thought alone makes you giddy.

You set the camera on the dresser, giving him the perfect view of where you plan to sit against the headboard. You strip off your shirt and skirt, but there’s no need to discard of your underwear—he already knows where it is. 

You crawl onto the mattress, and you settle yourself into the collection of pillows. You find your favorite dildo and you spread your legs and you look directly into the lens. 

Then, you smile.

You start slow, first by rubbing your clit, and settling into the sensation. Praying that Harry is somewhere watching right now. Then you start to tease yourself. One finger…then two. Slowly thrusting them into your cunt until you can add a third. The sounds are wet and delicious, and you moan his name even though he can’t hear you.

When you finally work yourself up to the dildo, you’re shaking. It doesn’t take long for you to cum—twice. Making a mess on his bed and on your thighs that you don’t exactly plan to clean up just yet. And after a quick break…you go back for round three before finally tapping out.

And once you’re through and feeling rather victorious, you wait.

However, waiting proves rather difficult once eight o’clock hits and he’s still not home. Then eight becomes nine and you don’t even have so much as a text. 

And you realize not much later that he’s turned the tables.

Not only does he have the upper hand, but he’s using that hand to squeeze you out. To make you sit and sweat and bite the ends of your fingernails. He wants you to realize that he’s won. Even after everything you did today, he’s still won and he’s going to continue winning and you are undoubtedly fucked.

So, when the door finally opens about fifteen minutes later, your heart drops to your ass.

He strides in rather calmly. He tosses his keys into the bowl by the hallway. He slips off his large coat. He loosens his tie. And then he heads to the bar for a bottle of scotch.

He pours himself a drink and he doesn’t look at you as you sit on the sofa and wait anxiously for his reaction. He doesn’t offer you a hello. He doesn’t glare or even smirk. He keeps his back to you, and he takes two very deliberate sips.

Finally…he turns around.

He leans against the counter and begins to roll his sleeves up to his arms. Then, he crosses them over his chest, and in a gentle murmur says, “Hi.”

Desperate to please and to move the scene along, you scoot to the edge of the couch and place your hands in your lap. “Hi, Sir.”

He hums. Soft. Amused. “Sir, hm?”

You nod. “Yes. You are Sir, aren’t you?”

“Yes,” he echoes. “But you certainly didn’t treat me like one today, did you?”

You resist the urge to smile. “What do you mean, Sir?”

He pushes off the bar and takes one step closer. Then, he reaches into his pocket and pulls your panties free, dangling them from his finger. “Why were these left in my coat today, little one?”

“Oh…were they?” You bat your lashes. “Oops. I guess I forgot where I put them.”

“Is that so?”

“Yes, Sir.”

He takes another step. “And does that mean you were in class all day without any?”

You shyly glance toward your lap. “Maybe.”

“Maybe?”

“…yes, Sir.”

“I see.” He puts them back in his pocket. “So, like a little fucking whore, you paraded around campus in nothing but a short skirt with no goddamn panties just to piss me off?"

"...yes, Sir."

"Did you touch yourself during class?"

You blink up at him. "I thought about it. But I waited until I was in my car during lunch."

His expression grows harder. "So you touched yourself twice today. Without asking my permission for either one."

"That's right, Sir."

"And you wanted me to find your panties while I was teaching, then, didn’t you?”

“Yes.”

“To mock me.”

“No, Sir.”

“No?”

You shift and offer him your best pout. “I only wanted your attention, Daddy.”

“You have it.” He nods his chin at you. “But that’s not all you wanted, is it?”

You clear your throat. “What do you mean, Professor?”

He reaches now into his other pocket, pulling out his phone and hitting a few buttons before flipping the screen toward you.

And there you are. On the bed. Writhing, moaning. Coming.

Harry looks at you. “You went through quite a bit of trouble to make sure I’d see this, didn’t you?”

You bite your lip.

“In fact, not only did you want me to see you disobeying my rule, you wanted to rub it in my face. Wanted me to get caught watching you in front of all my colleagues and students.” He clicks the phone off. “Isn’t that right?”

He wants your honesty and even though you’re tempted not to give it to him…you need to see him upset.

You straighten up and look him dead in the eye. “That’s right, Sir.”

He leans back and studies you. He’s fighting a smirk now, but that mischievous green gives everything away. “Because you wanted my attention.”

“Yes.”

“And this is how you thought you’d get it.”

“Yes.”

“And how is that working for you so far, little one?”

“Pretty well, actually. You’re here, and you’re pissed, so…”

He leans closer. So suddenly, in fact, that it makes a breath catch in your throat and your eyes pop open.

He rests his hands on his knees and stares right through you. “Fine,” he agrees in an almost devious purr. “If you want me to punish you, darling, I will. In fact, I’d like nothing more than to bend you over my knee right now and feel your skin grow hot from my hand.”

You swallow.

“And then, once you’re fucking soaking my trousers, I’ll sit you down and return your generous favor.” He smiles. “And you…will thank me for every single spank and every single orgasm. The only words I will hear out of this mouth are, ‘Yes, Sir,’ ‘No, Sir,’ and ‘Thank you, Sir.’ Is that understood?”

You nod sheepishly. “Yes, Sir.”

“Good.” He straightens up. “You know what to say if you want to stop, yes?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Tell me.”

“Yellow or red.”

“Good. And what’s our safe word if you’d like to pause the dominant, submissive relationship and just be us?”

“Sunflower.”

“Good girl.” He reaches for your chin, pinching your cheeks tight between his fingers before forcing your head up. “What’s your color right now?”

“Green, Sir.”

“And you understand that my punishment is not a reward for this behavior?” He grips you a touch harder. “Just because I’m giving you what you want doesn’t mean I approve of the means in which you got it?”

Your lashes flutter as you nod in his hold. “I understand…Sir.”

“But you’re not the least bit sorry…are you?”

Slowly, you shake your head.

He smiles to himself before dipping down once again until his lips are only inches from yours. “I plan to change that.”

Your stomach flips.

With that, he releases you, and nods toward the bedroom. “Go. Wait on the bed. I’ll be in when I feel like it.”

You don’t waste another second. You run toward the bed and you sit on the edge and you wait like a good girl. You obey him because you know how badly you want what comes next.

He takes his time. He has another drink. Slips off his shoes. Maybe even answers a few texts. Then, after he’s finished teasing you, he strolls into the bedroom.

He says nothing as he takes a seat beside you on the mattress. He hardly even looks at you. His expression is stoic—unrelenting. The way it always is when he’s slipping further into the punishing dominant role. 

“Come,” he says, and pats his thigh. 

You do. You crawl over his lap and lay your stomach over his knees, bare ass eager and waiting. 

He squeezes your hip. “Are you ready, little one?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Good.” He smooths his palm over the curve of your left cheek before there’s a sharp smack to the right. 

You jolt, sucking in a quiet gasp. “Thank you, Sir.”

You hear him hum appreciatively. He does it again to the other side this time. Hard. Firm. 

“Thank you, Sir.”

Again and again. Sometimes on the same side, sometimes in a specific pattern. He goes until you’re nearly numb and tears are pooling in your eyes. The same way arousal is pooling between your legs. Exactly the way he wanted.

Because it’s not the pain that does it for you. It’s his pain. It’s the knowledge that he trusts you enough to do this. And you trust him enough to let him.

He wants to take the time to punish you and make you a better submissive. And even though you annoy him and challenge him, he wants to keep you around. He isn’t going to lose interest.

But most importantly, he enjoys it just as much as you do.

By the fifteenth spank—with a few moments of rest in-between—you’re raw and undoubtedly very warm. Despite his slight anger, he makes sure to caress your skin and show it a bit of care along with the abuse. He listens closely for your safe word, and he only continues once you’ve thanked him. A sign that you’re coherent and still present in the scene.

After a couple more, he stops. “Tell me again why I’m doing this. Let me know that you understand.”

Through a few sniffles, you manage to answer, “Because…I disobeyed your rule.”

“And?”

“…and I disobeyed you.”

“And?”

“I went to class without any panties.”

“Mm.” He seems to huff to himself. “What else?”

“I could have embarrassed you in front of your students and colleagues.”

“And?”

“…and I’m not sorry about any of it.” You glance over your shoulder. “I’m a bad submissive.”

“You are,” he agrees. “Quite possibly the worst. My sweet angel became my little devil overnight all because she’s an attention whore who needs Daddy to constantly put her in her place.”

He reaches for your jaw again and forces your attention on him.

“Is that what you are, darling? A greedy little slut who throws a tantrum anytime her dominant stays out late? You have to disrupt my life, my work, and my students because you’re so cock-dumb and desperate?”

Your heart is racing. The degrading comments make your insides wrench in the best way as you squeeze your thighs together. “…yes, Sir.”

“I provide for you,” he continues, pinching your cheeks with a rather unrelenting grip. “I care for you. I work hard to make money just so I can spend it on you. And what do I get in return? A disobedient little fuck-toy that can’t follow a single goddamn rule. All because she couldn’t tell me she missed me.”

He pulls you up until you’re sitting and your ass begins to throb in pain as you’re forced over the rough fabric of his trousers.

“Tell me you missed me,” he demands sharply. “Be a good girl for once and tell me what you really need.”

“You,” you breathe. “I need you, Professor. I missed you. I wanted you around.”

“Why didn’t you tell me that sooner, huh?” He wraps his fingers around the back of your neck. “Why did you play games with me?”

You pout. “Because I like playing with you.”

He scoffs. “You’re a brat. You’re a fucking brat and you need to be broken.”

With that, you’re nearly shoved off his lap as he moves to one of the dressers to search for something.

Handcuffs.

You already know what comes next and even though you know you won’t like it…you can’t help but feel just a little excited.

“Move to the headboard,” he says. “Hands on the bars.”

You scoot into position, wrists firm against the poles as he tightens the cuffs and makes sure they’re nice and snug. 

In this position, he can do anything he wants. He can fuck you, he can taste you, he can have both holes at once. And you can’t do anything but let him. 

Once you’re where he wants you, he gets off of the bed, and begins to unbutton his fancy shirt.

You enjoy the show. In fact, you practically drool as you watch those long, nimble fingers pop each button on the way down. The way the fabric slides against his tan, tattooed skin before dropping down his arms and onto the floor. The way he tugs on his belt before undoing his pants and letting those go as well.

And there he is. Clad in nothing more than his briefs, that beautiful, gorgeous body on display. He puts in quite a bit of time to keep up his appearance and stamina. If he’s not teaching and he’s not with you, he’s at the gym. He runs, he does yoga, he plays basketball. He’s a very fit man and you honestly can’t believe how lucky you are to reap the rewards of his hard work.

Your lips part, ready to call for him. Your eyes feel heavy with lust and your legs are practically trembling. You part them in anticipation as he drops his briefs and puts a firm hand around his cock.

He strokes himself a few times before he grabs his phone. You stare like you’re in heat and maybe you are because fuck, the way his tip is so red and swollen and absolutely delicious. And his hand, his glorious hand. Nothing has ever looked so good. The way he squeezes and pumps. The way his thighs flex as he walks back toward the lounge chair in the corner of the room to sit. The way the tattoos move with every thrust.

You blink. “Wait…what are you doing?”

His eyes snap to yours. “Did I say you could speak?”

“…no, but—”

“Excuse me?”

You exhale sharply. “No, Sir.”

“No.” He leans back, one hand still around his cock while the other rotates his phone until he can watch the screen clearly. “What I am doing is returning your favor.”

Your brows furrow.

“See…you wanted to touch yourself. Without me,” he explains almost smugly. “You wanted to torture me. When I couldn’t do anything about it. When I couldn’t touch you or feel you or taste you. So, I’m following your lead. I’m letting you watch. I’m letting you see everything that you’re missing.”

And you realize then. You understand. You understand and you fucking hate it because this is so much worse than what you were imagining.

“Harry…Harry, wait—”

He clicks his tongue and shoots you a startling look of waning. “What did I say?”

You whimper. “Sir, I’m sorry. I’m sorry, I made a mistake. I was just…I missed you and I—”

“I don’t care,” he says before he hits a button on his phone and the speakers come alive with the sound of your voice. “You get to watch me while I get to watch you. And it’s a shame. Because now I have to waste it on myself instead of filling that sweet pussy the way you love.”

You whine again but it’s lost beneath the sounds of your pants coming from his phone. He doesn’t look at the real you. He looks at the disobedient version on the screen. The one with spread legs and a rather pornographic moan that almost embarrasses you.

He fists himself in the kind of way that makes every glorious muscle in his arm flex and tighten. It’s cruel how he makes you wait here, calling his name. Unable to do for him what he’s doing for himself.

“Look at you,” he exhales, lashes fluttering as he stares at your performance. “Stretching your little cunt with your fingers. Bet it felt good, didn’t it?”

“Yes…yes, Sir—”

“Did you think of me, little devil? Did you think of my fingers when you were fucking your little pussy. Did you pretend they were mine?”

You nod so fast, your head aches. “Yes, Sir.”

“I bet.” He squeezes the tip and hisses before moving back down. His chest is heaving, skin practically glowing beneath the lamp beside him. He’s beautiful like this. Jaw clenched and thighs spread. “I imagined your voice when I was in my meeting, watching. Didn’t have the sound on…but I knew. I know your sounds. Play them in my head on a loop.”

You yank on the cuffs and you don’t care that they’re cutting into your wrists. What he’s doing hurts so much more.

“And that fucking dildo,” he continues. He groans softly and his hips lift. “Yet another toy you aren’t meant to use without me. But there you are. Taking it so well. All the way, hm? Like it’s nothing.”

You need him to look at you. He’s so close and you just…you need him to put his eyes on your body and see the way you’re dying without him. It’s warm in his light and you think you might disappear if he doesn’t look at you just once before he finishes. 

“It’s such a shame,” he murmurs. “Such a shame that you’d rather have silicone than my cock.”

You sniffle. “Daddy, no—”

“And if that’s what you want, that’s what you’ll get. For the next week, if I decide you get to cum, I’ll use the toy. And then I’ll let you watch as I finish myself off alone.” Finally, he looks up, and you want to wilt. “Or maybe I’ll use a toy, too. Maybe the fleshlight we got.”

Tears dance down your cheeks. You wish he was inside of you right now. Fucking you, stretching you. Pressing down on the bulge in your belly so you can really feel him. His hand is nothing compared to your pussy and you both know it.

“Professor, please—”

“Uh-uh,” he tuts. “No. You don’t get to cry. You don’t get to beg or feel sorry. You asked for this. You wanted to hurt me. To be punished and be noticed. So, I’m noticing you, darling. And what I’ve noticed is that I’ve been far too lenient with you.”

You squeeze your thighs in an attempt for relief, but it does nothing and he knows it.

“See, I thought you were good.” He rests his head back against the chair, overcome with pleasure, and you know he’s trying hard to hold out. “I thought…that when I asked you to do something, you did it. That if you needed me…if you needed to cum…you talked to me. You followed our rule and you obeyed. But clearly I don’t punish you enough if you think slipping your panties into my coat is a fun little game.”

“Sir…Sir, I don’t, I’m—”

“Or maybe they’re just the wrong sort of punishments,” he barrels on. “What you really wanted was to be spanked and tied up. Maybe even wanted me to use my belt, hm? Be rough with you? Make you cry? And I gave it to you. Because I’m a good dominant. But I need to be a better one. And a better dominant makes sure his submissive learns her lessons.”

You try to sit up. Catch his eye again. Plead with him. Because you don’t like where this is going.

“Starting now, your punishment will hurt. It will teach. If you so much as roll your eyes when I speak to you, I’ll have you sleeping in the guest room until you can fix your attitude.” He glances over his phone screen and hums when he sees you finish. “And if you try to pull another stunt like you did today, you won’t get to cum at all, and I might even send you back to your apartment.”

The tears feel hot as they drip down your chin. “Daddy…”

“Tell me you understand,” he demands of you now. “Tell me that you hear my rules. That you plan to obey them and respect them the way you need to obey and respect me.”

You’re tempted to throw a tantrum. To thrash and cry and beg, but you know it’ll only make things worse. So, you make a quick motion with your head, and whimper, “Yes, Sir.”

And your submissive reply is what tips him over the edge. He cums—hard—and with a rather lewd moan before spilling all over his hand, stomach, and thighs. 

You hate it. He was right, it is wasted. Staining his skin instead of yours. To be washed off and disposed of instead of slipping down your throat or filling your cunt. A cruel, sadistic punishment that he seems to enjoy.

And he still doesn’t look at you. He doesn’t acknowledge your pain. Pretends you’re not even in the room. Instead, he grabs a washcloth from one of the drawers and cleans himself up before coming over to you. So there’s no chance you’ll get even a single drop.

He sits on the bed beside you and looks down. He pinches your chin—softer this time—and makes your tear-filled eyes look at him.

“I expect you to follow these rules, little one,” he repeats gently. “And I expect you to understand why you’re being punished. I don’t do it to hurt you. In fact, it hurts me more than it hurts you. Having to send you away or use a toy instead of giving you my cock? That’s not what I want. But it’s what you deserve. And I have to be a good dominant and make sure you learn your lesson.”

You try to nuzzle yourself closer to his hand and he smiles. “I do understand, Daddy, and I’m sorry. Just…just missed you.”

His expression softens now and he seems gutted. “So you said. And I’d like to know what I’ve been doing to make you feel so neglected so that it doesn’t happen again.”

You shake your head quickly. “Nothing, Sir. Just…your hours have been later. And sometimes I have a lot to study. And by the time we’re both finally home, we have to sleep. And then I feel like I haven’t seen you in weeks.”

He coos and reaches down to press a kiss to the tip of your nose. “Oh, darling. I know life is a bit hectic right now. And I haven’t called to check-in as much as I should, have I?”

You sniffle. “You have. But a check-in doesn’t replace the real thing.”

“I know.” He leaves a kiss to your cheek now. “I’m so sorry, my love. With the end of the semester, I’ve got so much grading to do, and so many final projects to oversee. There’s a lot of discussion happening in our department, and I’ve been pulled in a lot of different directions. I’ve been absent and neglecting one of my favorite priorities. And for that, I’m so sorry. And I will try to do better. Can you forgive me?”

You smile and nod as quickly as you can. “Always, Daddy.”

He chuckles. “My good girl. But you know that just because I haven’t been as present doesn’t give you a right to act out, yes?”

“…yes, Sir.”

“And I expect you to talk to me in the future if you’re feeling like this?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Good. Do you have any questions for me?”

You nod again. “Can you please hold me?”

His smile feels like a breath of spring. “Of course.”

He undoes the cuffs and takes careful hold of your wrists. He grabs some calming salve from the nightstand beside him and applies it to the slight marks on your skin, just to make sure you’ll be all right and won’t feel any more pain. And once it’s on, he pulls the covers back, and tucks you both in.

You feel good in his arms, your cheek against his heart. There’s still a very prominent ache between your thighs but you know better than to ask him to relieve it. This is part of your lesson. He’ll make it up to you later—even if he only uses a toy to do so. But it won’t even matter because it’s him. And you’ll take anything he gives you.

The slight scruff on his face scratches your forehead as he rubs it against you to make you squeal. And you feel so happy now that he’s your Harry again. The man you feel safest with. 

“Harry?” you whisper after the room has gone quiet.

“Hm?”

“I really am sorry about the panties. I didn’t want you to get caught.”

He laughs softly and kisses your temple. “I think if anything, it would have given me points.”

You grin. “The girls would have been so jealous.”

“Oh, I don’t think so.”

“I do. You’re hot, Professor. I don’t have to be your student to know all of your students want to fuck you.”

He glances down with a smirk. “All of them, hm?”

“Every single one. Have you seen yourself? Have you seen what you wear? And your hair and that beard and those eyes—”

“Okay,” he murmurs, and cups your cheek. “You’re very sweet, darling. And maybe you should give me your panties more often so I can remind everyone who I belong to.”

Your heart skips. The word belong means something more to the two of you than it might to anyone else. As his submissive, you do belong to him.

But he belongs to you, too. You belong to each other. This is a partnership—a relationship, no matter the dynamic. And the idea of him flaunting your claim on him makes you giddy.

“Daddy?” you whimper.

“Yes, little one?”

 “Can we please change the subject before this gets any worse for me?”

His brows furrow. “Worse?”

You shift your legs between his and his eyes widen when he feels the smearing of arousal against his thigh. 

“Ah,” he breathes before smiling. “M’sorry, honey. Know it must really ache, hm?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“And after all this edging, it’d probably feel so good to cum, wouldn’t it?”

Another nod. “Yes, Professor.”

“Mmm.” He kisses you. “Too bad. Maybe next time, yeah?”

You groan but you do kiss him back. Because you know that next time…

He’ll make it worth it.

Hehe this was fun and I am so down to explore them more later if we ever want!!! THANK YOU FOR READING 😭💞

~ Main Masterlist

Amazing divider by @firefly-graphics! 💞

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