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azrielbrainrot · 7 months

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I Laugh Like Me Again... She Laughs Like You - Part 2

Pairing: Azriel x Reader

Description: You're back home right when Azriel was starting to lose all hope, but is the person standing in front of him the same who disappeared all those years ago?

Warnings: Angst, mentions of blood, injury

Word Count: 6670

Notes: The original plan wasn't to write more of this story but I had a few ideas of where to take this and decided to turn it into a mini series, don't think it will be longer than 3-4 chapters. Also I don't know if the HoW has cells in the books but it does here and they're normal, not dungeon-y like, and the story is set after acosf but Amren never got turned into fae because I like her better like this. A lot of people liked the first part so I really hope this one doesn't disappoint. I hope you enjoy!

Part 1 ○ Part 3

Azriel was at the townhouse before he even fully realized what was happening. Didn't even give anyone an explanation, simply letting his shadows take him, barely hearing the questioning cries of his name. He didn't need to hear anything else aside from your name to know that's where he should be, his body moved before he even had time to formulate the thought.

Your sweet scent invaded his brain before he even arrived at the house. He'd be able to recognize it anywhere, he'd longed for it for so long after all. Every day when he opened his eyes, he hoped he would wake up to your scent floating around this house as it once did, as it did right now. He's not one to go into anything blindly, to run head first and only think about the consequences later, but this felt like his last chance. The loneliness that had settled deep in his soul had been replaced with hope with one word.

His shadows move to different corners of the room as soon as he's dropped off, leaving him uncharacteristically naked, unguarded. Even the shadows that would form naturally from the faint glow of the moon seemed to move off his face. They wanted him to enjoy this moment in full, this was his and only his.

In truth he barely noticed them leave, too preoccupied with the figure in front of him. He wouldn't have believed it if he wasn't witnessing it with his own eyes. How many times had he been haunted by this exact vision in his dreams? There you were standing in the sitting room, shining like a goddess under the moonlight filtering through the windows. You hadn't changed since the last time he saw you, only had gotten even more mesmerizing if anything.

Your hair was a bit shorter than you usually wore it, the tight pants a contrast to the usual short skirts you preferred. Then there was a scar running across your neck, even with the distance and darkness in the room he could tell it ran from ear to ear. It was a painful reminder of what you've been through, of the night he couldn't protect you. But it meant this was real. You were actually standing in front of him. This was something he had dreamed of many times, almost every night since you've been gone.

He calls your name and it feels amazing. Just the sound of your name leaving his lips, not in mourning or wistfulness but as a greeting, is enough to bring a face splitting grin to his face. Gods, he missed saying your name without almost feeling suffocated by the weight that formed in his chest.

You startle at the sound, seemingly not expecting company at the house. He has no time to study the strange expression on your face though, he needs to touch you first, to feel your skin against his, your warmth against his body, your heart beating behind your ribcage. He needs to make sure this is real and not some cruel dream or hallucination his mind thought up to torment him. He needs you to be really back.

As soon as your eyes meet his form, he clears the distance between you in two hurried steps, but, before he can hug you, he feels your hand reach out to him. He doesn't even have time to realize you're reaching towards his thigh, to Truth Teller. He doesn't know if it was confusion holding him back, the strangeness of the whole act or if he's simply willing to take anything as long as it comes from you, but he makes no movement to stop you from grabbing his knife, allowing you to pierce it through his stomach, never so much as looking away from your beautiful face or even flinching at the blade.

He can feel every inch of the dagger inside him, can feel the blood quickly seeping through his shirt. Still, the pain in his gut can't hold a candle to the relief and joy running through his veins. You're real. The knife went through, so you have to be real. He can clearly hear your heartbeat now as well, it sounds strong aside from how fast it's going.

Azriel reaches a hand out to you again, slower as not to startle you. He can't help the fluttering of his own heart as you finally let him make contact with the softness of your skin. You haven't moved your hands from the knife, your wide eyes staring at your now blood covered hands. He caresses your cheek lovingly and tilts your face up so he can meet your eyes at last.

He can tell something is wrong, as if it hadn't been glaringly obvious by his favorite knife currently stuck in his stomach. Your eyes seem unfocused, a bit panicked, maybe even angry. But he can't bring himself to care in this moment.

He doesn't know if this is your revenge for letting you die, for not finding you, or even if this is what you had wanted out of him from the start, maybe your whole relationship had been a lie. It doesn't matter. He'll gladly die at your hands if that's the fate you chose for him. At least he'd spend his last moments with you, a privilege he didn't think he would have the pleasure of experiencing.

His heart threatens to stop altogether when your eyes meet, it feels like time stopped around him. “You're home, my love,” he breathes out, letting out a soft disbelieving chuckle, “You're finally home.” He raises his other hand to your face, caressing both your cheeks with his scarred thumbs, he almost forgot how soft your skin felt against his rough hands. He's been clutching at faint memories for decades.

His smile falters when his thumb moves down, stroking down your jaw to the column of your throat, where a scar runs across your neck. He watches his thumb following the clean line, his scars had always been awful reminders of what was done to him, it ate at him even five centuries later, but seeing yours hurt even more. You should have never known this kind of pain.

“What?” Your voice was barely a whisper, confusion and fear holding it hostage. He looks back up into your eyes, seeing the same emotions swim in your gaze even more heightened. He didn't like that, you would never have any reason to be scared of him. He goes to tell you as much when he feels power surging into the room.

“Azriel?” Cassian's voice cuts through the moment and he has to close his eyes to keep himself calm. He wanted more time with you, wanted to talk to you before they got here, before they saw the blood but had gotten too distracted. His mind wasn't working properly, his thoughts were all over the place, he wanted nothing more than to hug you but was too aware of how strangely you were acting. He couldn't keep you and his family in check, not with every instinct inside him screaming to just pick you up and winnow you to the other side of the world.

He calls his shadows to him, a desperate attempt at hiding his injury. He knows it's in vain when he feels Rhys let go of the damper on his power, letting the suffocating night fill up the room. You look positively terrified now, he can even smell it mixing in your sweet scent. Letting go of your face, an act that takes more effort than he could imagine, he turns around slowly, trying to be mindful of keeping you covered, protected from his family.

Your hands don't stop holding onto the dagger, as he moves away from you, the force of it is enough to pull it out of his stomach and let the blood run free with no resistance. The pain was getting worse, it didn't look like you hit any vital organs but his healing wasn't fast enough to keep it at bay on its own.

Feyre is the first to move towards him when she sees the blood, but he simply holds up a hand, effectively stopping her in her tracks. Trying to keep a leveled head was proving to be a near impossible task as he saw the anger in everyone's faces, it was directed at you. He holds onto his abdomen, the pain was making itself known.

Seeing Azriel stop his mate from approaching, Rhys walks closer to the shadowsinger himself. His face was a mix of regret and fury as he spoke up. “What happened here, Azriel?” If his mind was in the right place he would have noticed the restraint his brother was showing at seeing him bleeding out in his house, restraint only present because of his own feelings towards you. Unfortunately, Azriel's instincts were winning against logic.

He hears you finally drop Truth Teller behind him, your body must have started listening to you when Rhysand got too close, recognizing him as a threat. He makes the mistake of looking back at the knife, not hearing the snarl that curls his brother's lips in time. Rhys winnows behind him in that moment and you had gotten too close to the window for him to reach you.

“Don't touch her,” he warns Rhys viciously. He doesn't want to think what he was capable of if anyone hurt you again, even if it was his own brother.

He sees you fall to the floor before he registers what happened. His heart almost leaps out of his throat, letting out an anguished cry of your name as he runs to you, pushing his brother out of the way and holding you up from the ground. Searching for a pulse frantically, he finds you were only unconscious. A breath of relief escapes him as he pushes your hair out of your face, it almost brings tears to his eyes. You will be fine. Rhys had only entered your mind to keep you asleep and stop you from escaping. You will wake up. You will not leave him again.

He hugs you closer to him, too focused on making sure you were alright and keeping his breathing leveled to hear what they were saying behind him. He felt as helpless as when he was still a child being subjected to his father's cruelty. It takes him a while before he finally calms himself down enough to hear the argument behind him.

“Let's talk to him first,” Cassian says, the emotion clear in his voice.

“He put up a shield around them,” Rhys was sounding less like a High Lord by the word, “He's not in his right mind.” A shield? He checks the air around them to find that his brother was right, there was a shield around them both, even his shadows had moved to cover them, separating them from the world.

“Neither are any of you,” Nesta's voice cuts through everyone, finally silencing them.

“We already called for Madja,” Feyre uses the silence that settled to speak, “We can get him treated and hold her somewhere until she wakes up.”

“No,” he drops you gently on the ground, letting his shadows cover you, protect you, before turning to face his family.

Feyre hesitates before continuing, seeing something on his face that makes her choose a different approach. He never mentioned being married to her but your name had been brought up before, he knew Rhys had filled her in on what happened, still she couldn't understand what he was feeling. Even he couldn't.

“The cells under the House of Wind are safe. It's just for-”

“You will not put my wife in a cell,” the words came out clipped, slipping through clenched teeth, the shadowsinger was barely holding on to a sense of restraint against his High Lady.

“She stabbed you,” Rhys yells, looking down at the wound in his brother's torso, thankfully already starting to heal, “it doesn't matter that she used to be your wife.” The growl Azriel lets out at his brother is nothing short of vicious, a feral and lethal thing rising straight from the center of his being.

“She is still my wife,” Azriel says behind a snarl, “And you will not hurt her.” Even if it was in the clean cells of the House of Wind, he could never bear to see you caged. He was ready to go to any lengths necessary to make sure of that. If helping you escape the Night Court was what it took he knew of a few ways not to get caught.

He could see Rhys' shoulders tense up, his own face morphing to match Azriel's fury. He didn't know if his mental shields were down or if his intentions were just uncharacteristically clear on his face but he was sure that his brother knew what Azriel - his spymaster - was thinking.

“She can stay in one of the rooms up in the House,” Cassian offers quickly, trying to settle the rising tension between his brothers, “She can't winnow out because of the wards and we can watch her until she wakes up.” Deep down he knows they don't want to hurt you either, that they're only worried but it's difficult to pay attention to the voice of reason within him during this whole situation. His greatest wish had just been answered. So why does everything seem to be falling apart with it?

Mor winnows in with Madja before he can give them a response which is a good thing because anything he could come up with would probably only put you and him in a more precarious situation. There were too many emotions warring inside him, the same going around almost everyone in the room if only more intense. The healer's presence seems to dissipate most of the tension automatically as Rhys even turns to look out the window and allows his mate to hold onto his hand, probably telling him soothing words in his mind.

Madja moves to Azriel with no hesitation, only stopping briefly when she senses the shield. She merely gives him a look before he drops it so she can reach him. He knows she wouldn't hurt you, knows he needs the wound in his stomach taken care of so he can focus on you, think about what to do when you wake up.

“You need to sit down so I can treat you,” she tells him while inspecting the wound.

“I will not leave her.”

“You can trust her with us, Az,” Mor tries to reassure him, but with the way the last minutes have played out he wasn't trusting you with them, or anyone else for that matter. He'd just gotten you back, no way is he letting you out of his sight for a second, he could bleed out for all he cares.

Suddenly, he sees Nesta walk to the table and grab a chair through his peripheral. She appears to be mumbling something to herself but he can't quite hear her to understand. She walks to him and drops the chair in her hands on his right, before giving him a narrow eyed look and returning to her mate's side.

He's not sure how much she knows of the situation. The three sisters probably all know by now that he used to be married but none of them has mentioned you to him, warned by whoever told them of the consequences of doing it.

He sits on the chair and lets Madja work on him. The wound wasn't too bad, even if he didn't have access to a healer it would close in a short time. You stabbed it cleanly through, just like he'd taught you. If he hadn't been the practice dummy he might praise you for it. By the Mother, he thinks he still might. He wonders if you'll grace him with a bright smile and flushed cheeks for it like you used to.

Azriel looks over to your sleeping form under the moonlight. He's calming down enough that he's starting to feel the uncertainty bubbling inside him. Truth Teller still laid on the floor beside you, covered in his blood just as your hands were.

“Is she…” What did he want to ask? Is it really her? How did she survive? There was so much blood on the ground that night. He didn't need to be a healer to know it was too much for someone to survive with no immediate help and an absurd amount of luck. “Is it really her?” He whispered the question, not bearing to look away from you as he does.

“You know that better than me,” the healer answers calmly. He can sense some emotion in her voice. You had asked her to make tonics to help him sleep and relax many times, to teach you basic healing and how to put on bandages to help him when he was too stubborn and not gravely injured enough to go see the healer. She probably missed you as well. “She's healthy.”

He feels a rush of relief at the words. You're healthy. The confirmation allows him to relax further. Finally looking away from you to see part of his family still watching the scene before them. He knows they too were thinking about the blood, the sleepless nights they spent searching for any sign of you. His eyes meet Rhys' briefly, knowing they'll need to talk about what happened.

He closes his eyes and leans his head back, letting out a soft sigh. You're back. He never thought he'd see you again but you're right here next to him. You're not a dream or a hallucination. You're healthy. The thought almost brings a smile to his lips despite the situation. Anything else can be dealt with now that you're by his side again.

“Are you sure you don't need to rest, Az?” He looks up from the familiar ring, still twisting it around his finger. It felt right putting it back on, he was almost giddy at the sight of the silver in his finger, but it also left him with immense guilt eating at him for taking it off in the first place. He studies Nesta's face for a second, giving up on trying to decipher what she was thinking in favor of looking back at you.

When everyone calmed down enough and Azriel was treated, it had been decided that you couldn't be left alone even in the room, they needed someone to keep an eye on you. It had also been quickly added that Azriel wasn't enough, his brother had seen right through him, he knew Azriel wouldn't try to stop you from killing him or trying to escape if you put your mind to it.

Cassian and Mor refused to stand watch unless it was truly necessary. He knows they wouldn't want to be put in a position where they had to stop you, knew they would not only feel guilty for hurting you but also wouldn't forgive themselves for hurting Azriel.

Even Rhysand, used to the weight and impartiality of the High Lord's title, looked hesitant in keeping him company, he had already forcefully invaded your mind to take your consciousness away, something he had vowed never to do to his friend. He could definitely stop you both from any of the worse case scenarios but at a cost he couldn't bear to pay.

That had left him with the two trained Archeron sisters and Amren. They set shifts to make sure Azriel was never left alone with you, he thinks they might not even trust him not to take you away from the room himself and help you escape. He can't really be sure himself if he wouldn't do exactly that if you asked. He'd follow you to the end of the world and beyond just to hear you call his name one more time.

“The wound is healed,” he whispers, keenly aware of your sleeping form, a habit that came to him naturally after seeing you. You always liked to sleep in and waking you up before your time was close to a death sentence.

“That's not what I meant.” Nesta walks closer to the chair beside your bed, the one he hasn't gotten up from since tucking you into the bed carefully. She placed a hand on his shoulder and studied you for a moment, something she's been doing since her shift started. “She stabbed you,” she says in an usually hesitant tone coming from her, “Are you sure it's her?”

“I would sooner forget my own name than mistake my wife for someone else,” the words came out clipped even with him trying to hold back his anger. It wasn't her fault for being suspicious, Nesta never got the chance to meet you, barely even heard about Azriel's marriage. She just wants to protect him, protect her friend.

“Why would she hurt you then?”

“Maybe it's my punishment,” the words leave him before he can think them through. It doesn't matter anyway, they all saw the state he was in at the townhouse. No point hiding now.

“Punishment?” She took a step back from the chair to be able to face him, her perplexed face coming into view. “You didn't do anything wrong.” The notion was almost laughable. Azriel had done plenty wrong in his life.

“I didn't find her,” he whispers, facing away from his friend in favor of watching you, “She's been out there for almost a century, on her own,” he clenched his fists at the thought, “and I didn't find her.”

“I know you looked for her as best as you could. I know you all did.” And what good did his best do?

“You don't understand, Nesta,” he says as he looks down at the ring once again, closing his eyes briefly at the burn he felt in his head. He didn't want to talk about this anymore, didn't want to explain his feelings to any of them.

“I do,” she starts, “If something happened-”

“If,” he cringes at how he raised his voice, immediately looking over to your sleeping form to make sure he didn't disturb you, and then added more quietly, with the same conviction in his tone, “If something happened to Cassian you would understand. But it hasn't and so you don't.”

Nesta lets out a defeated sigh, moving back to her original seat by the window, patting his shoulder comfortingly on her way. His eyes are focused on you once more and he has no intention of letting them stray until you wake up, and long after you do.

⋆｡°✩°｡⋆

You wake up slowly, your mind aware of your near consciousness before your body can follow. It feels like you've never been this deeply asleep, even the dreams that usually haunt you were quiet. Perhaps that's why it takes you so long to remember your current situation, it could also be the strangeness of it. You keep your eyes closed as your body and mind slowly come to.

You didn't expect to be lying on a bed, an unbelievably soft bed at that, after being caught stealing from the High Lord's home and then stabbing someone from his so-called Inner Circle. You're not sure when you lost consciousness but, in the split second the High Lord stood in front of you, you were more than certain you wouldn't be able to escape death again.

The sun is high in the sky, meaning you failed your mission, not only because you had been caught but also for not getting to the meeting point on time. Whether at the hands of your captors or your employers you were already as good as dead. The thought has heat burning behind your eyelids and your throat threatening to close up.

You don't even know what happened. This whole mission had seemed above your expertise from the start. You had never been sent on a mission to Prythian and the fact that you were sent to steal from a High Lord's home, the strongest in history at that, had sowed doubts inside you from the moment you heard about your mission from your handler. That and the sinking feeling in your gut as you listened to their descriptions of the city and people working for the High Lord. Every cell on your body was trying to reject this idea.

Deciding to trust your gut, you even brought up your doubts to your superiors, going as far as asking why you were being sent to retrieve some book when there are other fae more experienced in working there. There wasn't even any time to study the place or come up with escape routes. You had never been sent into any mission like this. Your worries had been quickly dismissed. They seemed completely convinced you wouldn't be caught, that you were the only member capable of this job.

Sneaking into the city had been simple enough, there seemed to be some celebration happening since so many fae were drinking and dancing around bars and even on the street. Your uneasiness only got worse as you walked through the streets. Something was wrong, every single one of your instincts was screaming at you, but you couldn't figure out why.

You walked to an alley close to the High Lord's house and surveyed the perimeter, making sure your intel was correct and the house was truly empty. After postponing the inevitable long enough, you took a deep breath and winnowed straight into the house, and, just like your handler told you, there were no wards or shields stopping you from entering. You thought this was peculiar for a High Lord but many powerful fae think themselves invincible to the point of arrogance and at the sacrifice of their own safety.

As you walked quietly through the hallway, your feet seemed to have a mind of their own, carrying you into a big room with sofas and a fireplace instead of the office you were supposed to be already searching through. You had the same feeling of deja vu as when you were walking through the illuminated streets before, something about the portraits on the walls and the peculiar chairs had your heart sputtering in your chest. It was an intricate design but you could swear you'd never seen anything like them before.

You moved closer to the window, far enough that no one could see you through it, and looked down at the city once more. Taking in the lights, the colorful houses and the fae cheerfully walking around the streets despite the late hour. There is no place like this in Montesere, not even close, so you don't understand how you could be confusing it, you really feel like you've been here before. Everything down to the names of the stores and smells wafting through the air look strangely familiar.

As you got lost in your thoughts, you had completely forgot about your mission. Letting your guard down, enough so that you didn't hear or feel anyone's presence in the same room until you heard them call out someone's name. The sound had goosebumps traveling through your entire body, your breath getting stuck in your throat. What scared you the most wasn't even the fact that you had just been caught but that voice, that name, almost brought tears to your eyes.

You stood frozen for a moment before turning around slowly and your entire body went still at what you saw. The male in front of you was the same one that haunted your dreams ever since you could remember, you would recognize that figure, those wings, those eyes anywhere.

You almost doubted you were awake at all but when he moved closer to you, standing in front of you before you could even blink, your body moved to protect yourself on instinct, to do as you had been taught at the guild. Your movements were a lot slower than usual, almost like something inside you was trying to stop you from hurting him but you had still managed to grab the long knife strapped to his thigh and stab it through his stomach in one clean movement.

The knife went in smoothly and he simply took it without trying to stop you or even letting out a sound. You've taken countless times before, killing was part of your life, of your job, but watching his blood run and coat your hands had made you feel incredibly guilty. You couldn't move, couldn't even let go of the knife.

When his hand reached to touch your face - a movement you didn't even register until his rough skin came in contact with your cheek - your wild eyes had met his and, suddenly, it felt like the world was spinning. The bright hazel was so familiar you could cry. He'd been starring in your dreams for so long but you'd never seen him quite this close. As you slowly let your mind catch up to you, you noticed he was smiling.

“You're home, my love,” he whispered softly. Your heart had felt like it was going to beat out of your chest at that point. You were missing something, a piece of information that felt like it was swimming right on the edge of your brain, but you couldn't quite reach it. His hands had both moved to cup your face by the time you found your voice.

“What?” What is going on? Who are you? Why do I feel like I know you? Why is your touch so familiar? My love? Your brain was filled with questions but you couldn't even find it in you to ask them. Couldn't look away from his eyes, the former joy seen in them giving way to something else.

“Azriel?” Both of you had tensed at the voice behind him. It seems he didn't hear anyone else arrive either, too caught up in each other and whatever mysterious tension was tying you together.

Your hands had tightened around the dagger on instinct, you could feel the power rippling through the room. You should have ran away while it was only him, he had let you stab him so maybe he would let you run away as well. But, as night incarnate filled the room, you knew every chance you had at an escape was lost.

The rest of the events were a blur, one moment you were watching more and more people winnow into the room, sending your heart further into disarray, and the next the High Lord himself stood in front of you with fury and what looked like disappointment etching his features, and then everything went dark.

As your memories from the night before fade, you become more aware of your surroundings. You could hear two separate breaths close to you, could smell two distinct scents, you suppose it was lucky enough that they had let you sleep on a bed, it's only natural they'd have someone keeping watch.

If they'd been watching you this whole time they would have to know you were awake by now, so you open your eyes slowly, blinking a few times to adjust to the brightness in the room. You study the intricate gold designs on the dark navy ceiling. Why did even the ceiling seem familiar? It feels like you are losing your mind.

Your head turns to the nightstand, where a cup of water sat over a flower shaped lace coaster. You almost gulped at the sight of it, your throat was so dry you weren't sure you could speak, but you were in a stranger's house, one you had tried to rob the night before, there had to be a catch somewhere and you didn't want to end at the cruel hands of poison.

Two pairs of eyes burned into you, and since you're not going to drink anyway, you decide that there's no delaying this confrontation any more. You turn to look at them, not surprised at finding the winged male sitting close to your bed, but he was accompanied by someone else, something else.

You sit up in bed slowly, not wanting to appear as a threat and startle them into thinking you had intentions of escaping or attacking you. You really didn't know why they hadn't just dumped you in a dark dungeon - you heard about their less than kind reputation before coming here - but you wanted to keep in their good graces if you could help it. They're probably keeping you to know more about who sent you, shame you can't tell them anything, maybe they'd even let you go if you could.

When you sit up against the headboard, your eyes meet the male's immediately, as if you were called to do it. Some of the same emotions you had seen last night were still shining in his eyes, but today there was so much more, so much so that you couldn't even begin to pick them apart even with the difference of a calm mind.

Your captors don't move so you take the moment to study the male before you. He always showed up covered in shadows in your dreams, you had barely caught glimpses of his face in the almost century of seeing him. Which was a real shame if you dared to admit it. He has an exceptionally beautiful face, the sun filtering through the window was giving his tan skin an ethereal glow, his eyes shine brightly, allowing you to make up the different tones of green and brown within them. His hair was stark black, curling slightly at the ends.

You had noticed the large wings that stood at his back the first time you'd seen him. You've never met any species of fae with wings but his were definitely peculiar. You always thought they were black but, with the brightness in the room and his shadows away, you can see they lean more to a crimson and gray-ish color. Trailing down to his torso, you notice that there doesn't seem to be any blood or sign of injury. He had already gotten healed then. For some reason, your heart calms at that and you try telling yourself it's because it might lessen the trouble you got in.

A shadow moves across him to reach up into his ear, almost like it was whispering something to him. You knew the Night Court's Spymaster was a shadowsinger, the only of its kind, but you didn't know what his shadows could do, what they could see and tell him. The hair on the back of your neck raises as his eyes watch you intently while listening to his shadow's words. They had to be talking about you. Could they read through your thoughts?

“Leave us alone, Amren.” Your eyes finally stray from the male when you hear her name, finally taking in the short creature behind him, and you almost regret it when her bright silver eyes meet yours. She was nothing short of terrifying, you think even the older assassins in the guild would feel unnerved under her gaze. You weren't even sure what she actually was but it had to be something other, something ancient and powerful. She seems displeased at the look you give her, though you doubt she's unacquainted with seeing fear on people's faces, or bothered by it.

Amren narrows her eyes slightly before looking at the male. She studies him with an intensity that could make most fae run for their lives, makes you consider it, but the male doesn't seem to care, his eyes never leaving yours. “I hope you know what you're doing, boy.” She walks out of the room with no hesitation, leaving you alone with the male that walks your dreams once again.

You stare into each other's eyes for what feels like an eternity. Neither of you seem to find the right words. You know why you're having trouble finding them. Between getting caught stealing in his house and the turmoil going on inside you, you're surprised you've been managing to keep your composure at all. But you can't understand why he'd be in the same position as you. Could he also be haunted by dreams of you the same way you were of him?

Leaning forward in his chair, he says the same name you heard last night, the one who made your heart tighten painfully in your chest. You had been too confused and scared last night to even consider it but now you can clearly see he's using it to call you. He seems to think that's your name.

“That's not my name,” you manage through your dry throat, the words coming out so rough and low that you're sure he wouldn't have heard you if it weren't for the quiet in the room. Your answer seems to hurt him, his face drops, the sunlight that was shining through his skin seems to vanish, and you see his wings tighten behind him. Your own body seems to respond to it. You want to make him feel better but you don't know how or why.

He nods almost imperceptibly, as if accepting a fact he was unwilling to, and rises up from the chair, tensing slightly when you press yourself further into the headboard. He seems to try to ignore it as he moves to the nightstand, picking up the glass and handing it to you.

You eye the glass sitting in his brutally scarred hands, momentarily wondering what could have done such a thing if he healed up from a stab wound in mere hours. He senses your hesitation but simply holds it closer to you. You look up to meet his eyes again.

“It's not poisoned,” he offers, “I promise.” You're not entirely sure why but you trust him, or maybe you were just in desperate need of water, reaching up to take the glass from him and almost drinking it in one go. He seems at least pleased enough with this, moving back to sit in his chair. As you observe his movements, you almost miss the way the glass refills on its own. You blink at it, deciding it's not worth considering, and take another slow sip.

Since he doesn't start asking you questions, apparently content enough with watching you drink, and you start to get unusually shy under his intense gaze, you start asking them yourself, seeing this as your chance to know the male of your dreams.

“What's your name?” You play with the glass as you ask, trying to appear nonchalant despite your perilous situation and the tension between you.

“Azriel,” his deep voice cuts through the silence. You repeat it, goosebumps spreading over your body at the act. Nothing is making sense anymore but his name feels right on your tongue.

You say it one more time, letting it linger in your mind. There is something inside you trying to claw its way out at the sound. You can feel it now, can feel how wrong it feels, how wrong you feel. There was a growing pressure inside your head. You let go of the glass and watch it vanish into thin air before it has the chance to make contact with the covers.

The sensation that you've forgotten something really important is back. You look up at the male one more time, seeing he has moved closer to you and noting the worry in his gaze. He wasn't supposed to be worried about you, he's a stranger and you had just stabbed him a few hours ago. So why does it feel right for him to care? Tears line your eyelids, your hands shaking slightly at the strange feelings building inside you.

“I don't know you,” you whisper, more to yourself than him, “I feel like I should.”

taglist: @thisblogisaboutabook @chessebookgirl @going-through-shit @starcrossedsan @macimads @janebirkln @dr4g0ngirl @harrystyles2686 @tothestarsandwhateverend @queensl1234 @lisanna2000 @starryhiraeth @shadowsaz @sakurafrost3-blog @evergreenlark @sisterjuliennes @bigcreatorwombatdreamer @historygeekqueen @writingcroissant @abysshaven @pablopascal @that-girl-reading @less-chaotic-brain @naturakaashi @tenshis-cake @sharknutz @isa1b2h3 @thehighlordishere @tarathia @sfhsgrad-blog @acourtofbatboydreams @starsandnightmares @cuethedepession @emryb @mybestfriendmademe @fxckmiup @adharanotfound @b0xerdancer @ervotica @aria-chikage @serendipityx150 @fanboyluvr @rogersbarnesxx

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#azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel x y/n #azriel angst #azriel fic #acotar fanfiction #azriel shadowsinger #azriel acotar #acotar

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ssahotchnerr · 1 year

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Reader sending Aaron cute messages when he’s off on cases and him not realizing he’s kinda smiling when reading them? Or they just make him in a much better mood in general and the others let reader know when they’re officially introduced? Idk it sounded cute in my head LOL

all thanks to you

omg that's ADORABLE cw; FLUFF

"you!" you had merely crossed the threshold of dave's foyer, only to be attacked by a sudden, warm embrace.

"me?" you said within a laugh. you caught yourself before penelope's abrupt hug caused you to lose your footing, quick to reciprocate and the butterflies in your stomach somewhat lessening.

it was your very first night meeting the bau team, and you had been beside yourself with nerves for close to a week now - ever since aaron had first mentioned the get-together. as they were the next closest thing to aaron's family than jack, you equally wanted to make a perfect first impression.

you must've shown aaron at least five potential outfits before you had left his apartment, asking him over again if he were sure the time was right for you to meet them, and if he was even more sure they would take to you.

aaron had reassured you, that first, you would look stunning in whatever you wore. and second, they would adore you. he offered the comfort that he himself wasn't worried, because he knew them, and he knew you. "trust me," he had said, chuckling softly as he grabbed his car keys. "i'll be long forgotten once they get to know you."

likewise, aaron had already warned you - penelope was ecstatic to meet you and would not keep that hidden in the slightest. but if she were half of what aaron had already described, you knew the two of you were guaranteed to be instant friends. and her current show, was pure evidence of that.

"it's so nice to finally meet you. you have no idea how long i've been waiting." penelope grinned, buzzing from ear to ear. "like, once hotch opened a text from you while we were all sitting around, y'know, being productive. and boy, i knew he was a goner."

"really?"

"are you kidding? okay," she takes a second, as if she's mentally preparing herself, ready to paint the picture. "we were sitting there, like i said. his phone goes off, and y'know that normal face he makes - eyebrows kinda pinched, mr mcpouty pants? - you know the one. he picks up his phone, reads it and he smiles. full-on smiles, right in front of us. he didn't think we noticed, but we did. didn't he smile?" her hand smacks out onto derek's arm, who happened to be passing by, resulting in a gentle slap.

"yeah babygirl." derek flashed a smile in your direction. "saw it with my own eyes."

"so," penelope's hand now flew onto your arm, resuming her energetic story. "when he realized he smiled, god forbid right - mr grumpy face returns, rather labored this time because again, the world will end if we witness anything otherwise. hotch simply puts down his phone as if it were nothing, but oh my god, he was blushing so hard i thought he was gonna explode. he was so so tickled."

"aww," you laughed, your lips curving into a smile and more love for aaron - if it were possible- swelling in the middle of your chest. "that's so sweet."

"oh honey, and that's one time out of, millions. dare i say, he got used to smiling and was generally in such a better mood all around." she lightly shakes your arm. "earlier nights, later morning starts, no more mr mcpouty pants - well, for the most part. all thanks to you!"

you felt a familiar presence still behind you, a hand finding your back. "you blush when i text you?" you turned your head up towards aaron, blush of your very own tinting your cheeks.

aaron shrugged reservedly, helping you slide your coat off your shoulders and folding it over his arm. "i did mainly at the beginning."

"sir, no." penelope shook her head, a pleased smirk vibrant on her face as her gaze switched between the two of you. "you were blushing today."

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner fluff #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotchner imagine #criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds x you #criminal minds drabble #aaron hotchner drabble #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds fanfiction #hotch imagine

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kooktrash · 1 year

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the art of obsession | kim taehyung

summary: in a world of painters and poets, there were two college students looking for the right sort of inspiration. through devotion in your craft, you find yourself drawn to kim taehyung—a grad student painter who’s everything you’ve ever looked for in a character. his walk, his form of speech, his art, it all captivated you to the point where you wanted to recreate him in words and you begin to realize how similar the two of you really are. you share a sort of obsession in your work that seems like only each other could understand and he invites you into his world of oil paints and charcoals in hopes of drawing you on paper.

✎ genre/au: dark academia. college au. painter!taehyung x writer!y/n [afab. she/her]

✎ 17.4K words

“He’s more myself than I am. Whatever our souls are made of, his and mine are the same.” — Wuthering Heights, Emily Brontë

warnings: smut. slight obsession with their work. prestigious college. tae literally takes oc to a graveyard. oc and tae dont take criticism well. unprotected intercourse. oral [f and m]. oc slobs on his knob and tae eats like it’s the last supper. missionary. side position. lowkey passionate sex. fireplace crackling. namjoon and oc used to be fwb. hints that oc and Jimin used to be fwb too. jungkook is tae’s sculpture artist bestie. jimin is oc’s ballerina bestie. namjoon is oc’s writer bestie.

The smell of cigarettes was something you were fairly used to being around where you resided. You’re not sure what makes it so popular among young academics and sometimes you wonder if it’s not the need of nicotine but more so the aesthetic of it that they all seem to enjoy. It seemed to always linger in the air around campus where all the grad students would walk with their heads down and bags under their eyes as stress took over their entire being. You understand the stress but being an undergrad student yourself, you’re not sure you could understand the extent of it that they must feel. All you could really do is watch the way it slowly deteriorates their body every time they step into the library.

Maybe it’s the Literature major in you, but you never fail to try and assess each person that walks in as if you could see their entire character design and what makes them who they are. Today you got a bit lucky because despite how slow your homework had been going, your favorite case of study had just walked in wearing his usual black turtleneck tucked into a pair of loose corduroy pants. He wore a pair of rounded wire glasses that you love getting to see him in and they did wonders to conceal the eye bags you knew were there.

With this smallest hint of entertainment you’ve found through your long and boring study session with only one friend to confide in, you shut your copy of — excuse the pretentiousness — The Pictures of Dorian Gray by Oscar Wilde, and lowered the volume on your headphones enough to be more aware of the cause of his visit today. You rarely saw him in the library and if he did happen to come by it was to check out or check in a single book on Michaelangelo or Davinci.

You were surprised by how close he seemed to have gotten to you today. The table you studied at was only a couple feet away from a book aisle he had currently walked down and now he was just a meter or so away with his head down in his book. The usual smell of smoke surrounded him and despite scrunching your nose at the smell, you chose to ignore it and study him a little further. You even went as far as to lower your headphones until they curled around your neck giving him your attention even if he didn’t know he had it.

As much of an observer as you were, you never seemed to catch on to the way his gaze would shift to you any time you weren��t looking, eyes scanning your features rather quickly as he made his own assessment. You dressed warmly today, probably due to the fact that there’s been a light rain that has been casted over the city, always seeming to linger longer where the buildings were older and all signs of urban life seemed to dissipate. You were dressed in neutral tones today that placed you perfectly with your own surroundings and if this was a painting he’s sure you would be the focal point—or maybe the single spec of bright color you wore which was in this case your powder blue headphones. He’s not sure he’s ever used that specific shade of blue in a single one of his works before but maybe he’ll look into it.

He rarely visited the library but when he did it was always a pleasant surprise to see you there. He didn’t care much to get to know you, he just found the aesthetic of it all captivating. The library was beautiful, truthfully, with its dark wood shelves and polished tile floors that echoed with each step. It was eerily quiet and it always smelled of old books and always reminded him of a cathedral. There were large stained glass windows of poets, painters, dancers, etc. the clear glass windows overlooked the large pond that covered the back of the small campus where the woods began to take over and student life decreased aside from the occasional late night college party hosted there between trees and bonfires.

“He always comes into my work for paints. I wonder why he always pays in cash.” Your friend said, suddenly appearing next to you and not messing with the printer anymore. He must’ve caught sight of Taehyung before he left and considering he worked at a supply store, it was no surprise he recognized him.

“Maybe he hates banks,” you joked, turning to Jimin with a smile. Jimin pursed his lips staring down the aisle where Taehyung had disappeared once he had his book, “Maybe cash is more aesthetically pleasing. He’s an art major, isn’t he? I say he’s too pretentious to use a plastic card—or even worse, Tap to Pay.”

At that you laughed, deciding to continue the teasing of a man you barely knew while also trying to defend him, “Do people ever get tired of throwing words around?”

“Are you referring to my use of ‘pretentious’?” Jimin asked as he moved to the other side of the counter, “I used the term correctly, it’s an adjective meaning, ‘attempting to impress by affecting greater importance and culture than is actually possessed’. His refusal to adhere to society’s technological advances is pretentious in itself. I bet he still uses No. 2 pencils as an act of defiance against mechanical pencils—if he was a writer like you he would probably be more drawn to a pen but he’s an artist and artists make mistakes that get covered up or changed.”

You couldn’t help but smirk at that, “Tell me then, Jimin, what does a ballerina use to convey words? An Arabesque?”

Jimin released a loud groan, “I hate this goddamn school.”

You watched him open his newest generation laptop and hide behind it. He knew now how little room he had to talk. You, yourself, couldn’t utter a word to disagree with him either when in your hand was a Montblanc fountain pen that cost your parents a hefty 1,500$ to get to you when you were first accepted into the school. You’re sure when the time comes for you to finish undergrad, they’ll up the price and give you one worth 4,000$—the most profound amount of proof that you did in fact strictly use pens for everything.

You would never dare mention anything revolving around the money Taehyung’s family is rumored to have because you don’t know anything about him to do so.

All you knew were the few things you’ve noticed — a couple that even made it into your journal — like the fact that he specialized in two mediums; charcoal and oil paintings. He’s a known name at the University for his work and dedication and you saw that through one of his works. It was dark and a bit twisted but it told a story and you think that’s what drew you into him before you even knew it was him.

Despite his strong presence that always seemed to draw you in, he had a gift for making himself invisible in a group setting. He never spoke up in class, never caused a fuss, he was in and out like a shadow.

At the start of the semester you were taken by surprise when you found him sitting in one of the back rows of the lecture hall to an advanced anatomy class that you’re sure you took for very different reasons. Taehyung was interested in the study of the body so he could fully understand the way the it works from the inside out. He wanted to understand how each limb moved, how fluid each bone and muscle connected, how they could contort, see where the organs go, imagine the flesh coming to life when he painted.

In literature, anatomy isn’t referring to the human body. It refers to a separation of a topic into smaller parts for detailed analysis of the work. You did not make a mistake when you chose this lecture, you too wanted to study the body for your work. You wanted to learn how fragile it really was, how it could be destroyed, how hard it was to do so. You wanted to know about which bones were weaker, which organ puncture did the most damage. You need visuals and understanding of its healing process, of the way it moved, how the nervous system worked. Once you had a better understanding of the body, you just knew that you would be able to apply all these things to your writing. You would be able to detail how your character’s body deteriorated outside and in. How the body would slowly break down, which nerves were affected, how the heart worked in that moment. It would be gruesome but intriguing enough for your readers.

Maybe you needed to write something not so dark, something that didn’t make you take courses you didn’t really need but wanted in hopes that they’ll help you understand better. You didn’t actually need to go this far to describe a couple grueling scenes but it helped.

The room was silent aside from the obnoxious sound of the clock, Tick… Tock… Tick… Tock…Ticking.

You stood at the front of your professor’s desk in his clustered office filled with classical literature books and awards for writing all over the shelves. His desk took up the majority of the space inside and whenever you were in here you couldn’t help but feel just a little suffocated. There were barely any words shared between the two of you, he only ever decided to truly grace you with his speech when he was critiquing and yet right now he’s been uncomfortably silent.

The silence had grown so long that you found your attention drifting toward the grandfather clock that was tucked away near the overwhelming stained glass window that overlooked the courtyard filled with wet and fallen leaves. The trees were bare and the fountain had a sculpture of a big swan with its wings spread in what looked like a dance. It always reminded you of the Swan Song, but you never knew if that was morbid of you. The idea of your University of Fine Arts decorating the campus in the black and white birds simply for decor always seemed strange to you too.

There was no way they would ever portray anything without meaning, or at least something not up for interpretation and yet every time you looked at one of the swans, you thought about the Swan Song, the way the bird’s wings were open beautifully with each detail chiseled into the stone. It looked like the swan’s final performance before its end. It wasn’t the sort of symbolism you liked to see at a school with such dedicated artists looking for a way to perfect every aspect of their work as if each one was their last.

“I like it,” your professor finally said, drawing your attention back to him in an instant, “Your writing has improved Y/n, I’m starting to really visualize the plot and I think it has a certain rawness to it that I’m not used to seeing from you.”

The corner of your lips turned upward like you wanted to smile but you wouldn’t fully allow yourself to. He hasn’t looked at you yet, his eyes stayed glued to your paper and it was clear he wasn’t done, “But it still feels stiff—well, the main character does. I can’t understand him yet, he’s just a mystery to me and not one I’m interested in unraveling. I can’t understand his depth and it’s becoming a big flaw in your writing. Everything else sounds wonderful, well articulated and with such emotion… that when I think of him all I see a huge lack of substance. He’s being drowned out by the rest and he’s supposed to be the one I follow when I read.”

You didn’t say anything as your jaw slowly clenched shut, eyes unwavering as he went on, “It’s like you have a lack of knowledge for human emotion and psychology, I’m not sure that’s something that can be easily fixed.”

“Does it make my writing bad?” You asked stiffly and he shook his head no.

“No, your writing is captivating but there’s a very huge disconnect I’m feeling from your characters,” he said, looking up at you, “It takes away the beauty of it.”

Your lips felt sewn shut as he handed you back your paper with all of his notes for you to fix and you felt like crying. You couldn’t even utter out a single word as you forced yourself not to react to his words and leave his office with your head held high.

What did he mean by disconnect? What more did he want you to do? What did you not understand about human emotion? You’re a human, what is there not to get? What else did he want from you?

These questions circled your head for what felt like an eternity, only confusing you more and more as you left for your next lecture. You spent the fifteen minute gap with your journal out jotting down every question that came to mind trying to see how you could find answers to these.

You sat alone in your row of seats waiting for other students to arrive and you took the time to brainstorm. He told you your characters lacked substance and implied that they were hard to visualize. He said that he can’t understand them, especially the lead and that he couldn’t be absorbed into a story about a character he doesn’t care for. He basically said that you lacked an understanding of emotional depth for the characters you write and therefore your stories will continue to have a disconnect until something changes. If only something could inspire you, maybe help you analyze these so-called emotions you couldn’t comprehend. You needed to remove some of the mystery around your character and really dive in on his arc, understand how he felt. How could you do that? It's not like you could fully visualize it yourself either unless you really began to study those around you more than you already do.

You sat up straighter in your seat and looked around as the lecture hall began to fill slowly. The room had a sort of ancient feel to it with long hazelnut rows of desks pressed side by side against each other in an amphitheater manner. There were diagrams and models of the human body plastered everywhere but none looked straight off of a doctor’s catalog. They looked like Davinci himself drew every skeleton in the room. It also had a small echo especially when the rain hit the wall or glass windows that sometimes tuned out the sound of talking students entering the hall.

You recognized most of the faces and the one who passed you as he went up a few rows seemed to distract you more than the others. Kim Taehyung didn’t wear glasses today but he wore a wool sweater and linen pants. There was a small splotch of gray paint on his knuckle that he hadn't seemed to notice as he swung his book bag onto the desk with a small thud, uncaring if anyone heard and ignored everyone around him.

He was similar to your character, almost. He always seemed closed off and unapproachable but behind his eyes was an aura of emotion that isn’t easily interpreted. You found yourself beginning to scribble down in your journal, just basic things you noted about him.

The lazy, bored look in his eyes that made him look tired and unamused by everything that happened around him.

Then there was his stance. He had good posture but when he sat down in his seat he leaned all the way back with his arms on the table like he was observing every person in the lecture hall, even you.

You knew this because for a second your eyes met with Taehyung’s and in that measly moment you just took in the sight of each other. Taehyung didn’t hold much expression in face but his fingers seemed to twirl his No. 2 pencil a little more intently now. He ran his gaze down from your eyes to the curve of your nose and curl of your lips. There was something about your facial features that he was delighted in studying. When you looked away and gave him a view of your side profile he leaned toward his desk more and the leather sketchbook that rested over his textbook was flipped open as he began to sketch you.

The drawing didn’t mean much to him, it was just a small doodle to pass time, his hands had to always be sketching and you happened to be his distraction today. Usually he doesn’t really pay attention to you when he’s in class, you sit far enough from each other that you never interact and when he catches you in the library you always seem lost in your own world.

He knows your name, he read your story last semester simply because it intrigued him. It was published on the school forum and won an achievement so he checked it out and it was good, your writing is intricate, or at least that’s what he thinks. He’s able to follow along to every word and not be bored or confused but with a certain degree of understanding that the reader needs to learn. There’s an aura of mystery around it, yet it was not something that he couldn’t comprehend and he thinks that’s why he was able to enjoy it.

At the end of the lecture he had three small drawings of you.

“Come on man, it won’t take long, just one drink,” Jungkook begged him for the third time in a row. Despite his friend’s darker exterior dressed in black jeans, a black tee, and a black leather jacket, he was way more outgoing. He was always trying to get Taehyung to go out for drinks or to party but he just doesn’t have the time.

“Not tonight,” Taehyung said as he opened up his pack of cigarettes and took one out, sliding it to his lips before burning the end with his lighter. He handed the pack to Jungkook who took it without question and did the same.

Jungkook released a sigh in disappointment, shaking his head a little as he said, “Whatever man, you say that every night.”

Taehyung shrugged his shoulders as he took a drag and pulled it out between his index finger and thumb, “Then get the hint.”

His friend wasn’t listening anymore, choosing instead to stare at the building in front of him, dimly lit from all the lamp posts. It was just after sunset and the only students around were probably working on assignments like Jungkook and Taehyung. Taehyung took advantage of the art room to work privately and in a bigger space while Jungkook worked in the warehouse where he could work on his new sculpture. Taehyung couldn’t understand why Jungkook cared about whatever was going on at the library till he casually looked over too.

“She looks familiar,” Jungkook said pointing to you as you walked down the sidewalk toward the bus stop. Taehyung looked too, you had a tote bag like most students around here and there was a butterfly clip in your hair but it still looked messy. Your hair was down earlier and at some point you decided to put it up and he realized now that he didn’t have a preference on how hair looks on someone. He likes the style you had earlier and the one you have now too because they enhance your features more.

“That’s Y/n,” Taehyung said casually as they went to the parking lot. Jungkook looked at him curiously before glancing back at you, “You know her?”

Taehyung didn’t have an answer for that so he didn’t give one, he just walked ahead wondering the same thing. “Let’s get a drink,” Taehyung finally gave in and Jungkook immediately cheered. “Yes! Okay, don’t worry, just one.”

Beauty is in the eye of the beholder… that is what every artist has ever been taught. Taehyung has never been able to disagree with a statement more than that one. There is not beauty everywhere, it is not as inclusive as one might think and to truly understand art in the many forms it could take, one needs to understand the meaning of genuine beauty.

It’s quite terrifying in a sense, for one to be able to lose control and fall for the Dionysian seduction and view beauty for what it truly is. It is a raw and exhilarating topic that cannot be defined by just looks or words but more the freedom of life, life is beautiful in its own twisted way and to accept that definition is to be able to portray that in what you do. That’s why Taehyung’s art tends to lean toward a more dark and twisted form. When he creates art he’s not just looking at creating something nice to look at or something with a hidden meaning that no one would ever truly understand. When he creates, he wishes to express human emotion through his work—he wishes to make others feel things they’ve never felt before and that is the beauty he is chasing after.

Beauty is not a person but a feeling and when he looks at you he seems to understand that better.

It’s not just your outward attractiveness that draws him in. It’s the terrifying beauty that you radiate in your gaze, in your mannerisms, in your writing. It intrigues him and if he could put you on a canvas and unravel everything inside you — your fears, your joys, your tears — he would but till then you’re nothing but a familiar stranger that invades his mind when he least expects it.

“Taehyung, your work is beautiful,” his professor said, “Everything you create is effortlessly perfect but…”

He waited with a bated breath, already not liking where this was getting. He watched closely to the way she tilted her head in curiosity, “It’s rather dark, don’t you think? Maybe hard for interpretation an—“

“It’s not made to be interpreted by anything but the way it is,” Taehyung said boldly, “Once art is set for others to create a new meaning for it, is it ever truly art?”

“I guess I am not understanding what you mean,” she said leaning forward against her desk.

Taehyung released a sigh like this conversation with his senior was tedious, “When you look at Picasso’s work, do you think he created it for others to understand? Or was that something that people began to believe? He created art that was unconstraining to himself and his life.”

“Yes but look at Salvador Dali, the entire aspect of surrealism that he used was to unleash the power of imagination and creativity. You can’t just shut your art into a small box for the sake of aesthetic,” she said and that made him scoff, his lip curled in distaste, “And let’s look at Monet? He’s practically what started the entire idea of Impressionism.”

“What it meant to him, how he viewed it at that moment, that was all,” Taehyung said, which made the advisor release a sign, “Claude Monet once said, everyone pretends to understand his art, as if it were necessary to understand when it is only necessary to love.”

“I’m afraid this conversation will go back and forth if we continue,” she said with a huff, already irritated by the way things are going, “The exhibition is in three months, in a month I’ll connect with you on how everything is looking and give you the rundown as well is there anything else you need from me, Mr. Kim?”

Taehyung shook his head and without a goodbye he was getting up from his seat and storming out. Not even a second after the chestnut double doors shut, did he find himself reaching into the pocket of his jeans to get his pack out. The cigarette sat perfectly between his lips as he blocked one side with the hand so the wind didn’t blow his lighter out and he lit the tip, ignoring the ‘No Smoking’ sign just a couple feet away. He couldn’t help but mumble, “Stupid bitch,” under his breath once he finally left the building.

As he rounded the corner, something hit his chest and his free hand immediately the person steady in front of him.

Your hand was on his chest to keep from hitting him and as you looked up, your eyes widened just slightly. Taehyung didn’t say anything as he let you go, brushing against your side and moving around you to leave feeling your eyes on him. You watched him head the way you just came from and finally snapped out of it when you heard your friend call for you.

He turned to look for you seeing you already walking over to some tall and muscular guy. The guy gave you a dimpled smile as he followed after you, no longer in Taehyung’s peripheral.

“Maybe he has a point, Y/n,” Namjoon said as he walked with you to the bus stop, “If you’re struggling then maybe you should think about altering the character more.”

You shook your head in displeasure, “No, I’m not going to change him, I just need to be able to visualize his characteristics.”

Namjoon released a sigh as he pondered over what advice to give you, but came up blank, “I mean… maybe you just need some real inspiration from those around you. ”

The both of you went silent trying to find a solution and you looked up at him curiously. Namjoon would be an amazing reference for a character but he doesn’t fit the image you want him to. He was like light, he was kind hearted and charming and so unbelievably smart but that’s not how you envisioned the main character in your story. The kind of character you had in mind was supposed to act similar to… well, Taehyung. He’s supposed to be a bit mysterious, cold, not necessarily a likable character but someone they can’t help but be curious about.

“Namjoon,” you called his name and for a moment he grew hopeful to the idea that maybe you were thinking of studying him the way you do with others—even if he knew that would never happen. Instead, you came to a stop and looked up at him, “I forgot my laptop in the ffice, I’ve gotta go get it.”

His brows furrowed, looking down at your tote bag, “I’ll come wit—“

“No, you have to work, right?” You asked, already backing away from him, “I don’t want to make you late, I’ll just catch the next bus.”

Before he could argue, you were already taking off in a hurry back down the way the two of you came from. With a sigh he watched you leave wondering why he always seemed to be a couple steps behind you and never beside you. All he’s done since he met you was follow your lead in friendship and outside of it.

Even when the two of you had sex months ago it was always when you wanted and never when he did. If he even thought to ask, all you did was blow him off and then question him on if he’s seeing anyone at the moment. In the same second you would press your lips to his cheek and remind him how much you adored him even when you blew him off he always found the act of it a bit poetic.

He loved you, but it’s a love unreturned and if he wants to stay by you, it has to be with him at the back of your mind and never at the forefront.

With that understanding, he had no choice but to let you go back toward campus walking across fallen leaves and dead branches while he went to the bus alone.

Your legs had taken off before you could even decide where to go and in the end you found yourself heading back the way in which you met with Namjoon—and also the way you bumped into Taehyung. You were never much of the shy type even if it appeared that way, your friends always said you were the selective type—only choosing who to be outgoing with and even then it was rare and required a lot of work to get to you.

They had it easy, Jimin was a childhood friend and Namjoon was in the same writing department as you but that’s as far as your circle went. Well, no, there’s Yoongi too but he’s a pianist and these days he’s so busy with lessons and trips to the orchestra, you barely see him.

Like stated, you were selectively social and right now, you were choosing to find Taehyung so you could formally talk to him. It took you about ten minutes of mindlessly walking through the courtyard to locate him and when you did, you came to a halt. He was just a few feet away now, cigarette between his lips, crouched down against the wall of some historic looking building with castle-like elements and you know he saw you coming when he turned his head and looked right at you.

That was the push that had you walking toward him and saying, “Kim Taehyung?”

“Yes?” He asked, looking you up and down, eyes unable to help themselves as he looked up from your legs to your face. You wore a black fitted turtleneck underneath a brown sweater vest tucked into a black skirt. You wore long 70s style brown boots and mesh tights too. Your hair was pinned back with a hair clip and pins and your ears were lined with simple yet pretty earrings. When his gaze finally met yours, he couldn’t help but take in the sight of you once more.

“My name is—“

“I know your name,” he said with a small glint in his eye, “Obviously.”

You didn’t pull away from his intense stare and watched him bring the cigarette back to his lips, “I thought it would be more appropriate to introduce myself.”

“Mm,” he exhaled looking down at the cement below his feet, flicking the end of the cigarette to let ash fall, “So what could I do for you, Y/n?”

He looked up once more and you bit your lip in thought, “If you are free, I wanted to see if you’d like to get a coffee with me.”

“I don’t like coffee,” he said, finally putting the thing out and standing up, “And it’s almost sunset.”

You blinked in surprise as he stood in front of you now but you didn’t back away, “Then we’ll just have dinner.”

“Thanks,” Taehyung swung his bag over his shoulder, “But I’m kind of busy, I’ve got somewhere to get to.”

He was already walking away to hide his look of surprise. He didn’t expect the two of you to ever really talk and he didn’t really know what to do. He ended up rejecting before he could even truly think it over. He imagined you as just a fantasy — nothing he could ever explore but that he could dream about. He just wanted to look and think about you but never know anything beyond what was on the surface—like a painting.

“And you can’t have a plus one?” You asked in your final effort to get closer to him completely unaware of what he thought of you. You watched him come to a stop, and for a moment you tried to imagine him contemplating. Taehyung turned to face you, “I’m not going anywhere fun.”

You stayed quiet as he went on, “And some might find it scary.”

It seemed like he was trying to warn you as if to let you back out of your own proposal but he wasn’t saying no and that was hopeful. You tilted your chin higher, “As long as you don’t plan on murdering me, I’m sure I’ll be fine.”

That made the corners of his lips turn upward in an arrogant smirk, “Okay, Y/n, follow me.”

The walk wasn’t too far from the college but the college was already a bit on the outskirts of the city. All you saw were green, dying hills as autumn threatened to take over and it took you a second to understand where he was taking you until he was leading the way down a steep hill toward an empty and cold graveyard. It was a straight line of jagged tombstones and overgrown plant life entwined around them. There were clear dirt paths leading down row after row of old graves and a few Angel statues but nothing too bad, at least that’s what you’re telling yourself.

“I told you, you might be scared,” Taehyung said as he walked parallel to the graveyard toward a tree that stood tall along the sloping hill, “But this is the best view of twilight, if you want, I could walk you back to campus.”

“No, it’s fine,” you cleared your throat deciding to walk ahead of him so you could be the one sitting upright against the tree. Taehyung dropped his backpack a few feet away from you and began getting his things out.

You didn’t question him, only observed the way he carried on like you weren’t even there. It’s not like you minded, you didn’t have any real agenda to get him to spend time with you and frankly, you felt a bit relieved to see that he wasn’t trying to figure out what you wanted. It was unspoken the way the two of you seemed to think similarly and brought out your tools.

Taehyung didn’t say anything when he flipped his sketchbook open and found a charcoal he could use as he began to sketch without much thought into it. He even made himself comfortable by lying back, using the angle of the hill to help him not lay horizontally and he bent a knee up as a sort of flat surface he could rest his book on. There was a small breeze that carried through his linen shirt and brown trousers but he wasn’t much worried about himself.

He was more worried about you, who had asked to spend time with him but had no real plan to do so. He’ll admit, when he said no it was just on reflex from all the other times he’s out right rejected others before but he only thought it over because he’s been curious of you two. When you told him you would join him for a moment he debated saying no again because this was his favorite place to be to watch the sunset but it wasn’t all that normal. He even tried to warn you and offer to take you back when you saw the graveyard but you didn’t even seem to care when you sat down. Now that he’s looking at you up close, he can see the way your brows furrowed in concentration as you scribbled in your journal, already feeling inspiration.

It’s now that Taehyung is realizing why he’s been so curious. He finds you beautiful, he’s sure he’s mentioned that before, but he finds you beautiful in an unsettling way. Just looking at you seemed to send him into a wave of emotion like you’re exactly what he’s wished to create on canvas. Before he even knew what he was doing, his hands were working away to make another sketch, eyes on you as he worked.

“What are you writing in that little journal of yours?” He found himself asking after some time. The sketch was rough and yet it was so refined that there was no mistaking what it could be. It was a monochromatic sketch of you with your back against the tree, legs straight before you and your hair covering your face with the howl of the wind. Your hands looked delicate when you wrote and you looked so lost in your own work that managed to capture that same essence in his drawing.

When you first looked at him, your eyes went down to the pack of cigarettes he was now messing with and out of curiosity he raised it to you as if asking if you wanted one. Moving to sit forward, you took one and held it between your lips as he dug into his pocket for his zippo lighter, flipping it open and bringing it toward your face to light the cigarette. He watched curiously as you leaned back a little, took an inhale/exhale, and said, “I’ll tell you if you show me what you’ve been doing in that little sketchbook of yours.”

For some reason a small smile came to his face as he laid on his side using his elbow for support and reached over to hand you the sketchbook. You took it with a sense of excitement that quickly turned into disbelief as you looked at it. The back of your index finger hovered over it but never touched for fear that you would smudge it or worse—ash, and when you finally handed it back to him, wordlessly, his cold fingers brushing against sending a warm current down your arm.

At this exchange, Taehyung moved to sit up, not bothering to brush off any loose grass blades off his linen shirt and read over a short passage.

A certain coolness in his gaze that made him appear cruel.

A charming aura that seemed timeless, not modern but ancient like he was created from every classic literature known to man.

His gaze, his smile, his voice—all deep like red velvet.

The list went on, each short sentence followed by another in what one could assume was meant to describe him. He didn’t say anything either as he handed it back to you the same way you had done with his sketchbook. Neither of you were looking for critique or praise, more so acknowledgement of what the other had been doing and once you had it, it was enough.

Taehyung stared forward as the line of bright Orange finally vanished from the sky and a cool blue clouded it. The atmosphere shifted now as darkness began to swim across the sky and you both knew it was time to go. Nothing was said as you both stood up with your things and even less was brought up on your walk back to campus.

It wasn’t until you stood at the bus stop that Taehyung decided to ask, “Are you busy tomorrow?”

“No.”

He pulled out a piece of paper from the pocket in his trousers followed by a pen as he scribbled something down before handing it to you, “Meet me here at 8:00pm.”

You didn’t have to say anything for Taehyung to know you would show and he left without much of a goodbye.

The place you arrived to at 8:00pm on the dot wasn’t exactly what you had in mind but it wasn’t much of a surprise either—it was a warm record bar. The one thing that did seem to surprise you was Taehyung’s choice in music where he preferred jazz over classical. The bar was dimly lit only by shaded, vintage lamps and the small yellow candles near all the booze. The walls were lined with vinyls and the deep mahogany trimming gave the record bar a sort of dark academic charm to it.

When you found Taehyung he was sitting at a small round table fit for two and he had a book in hand—The Picture of Dorian Gray. He wore his usual metal wiring rounded glasses and his dirty blonde hair seemed quite soft and full of life. The dark brown sweater he wore matched well with his tan slacks and you didn’t miss the way eyes would fall on him. It was this charming, educated college boy with a rich father sort of energy that radiates off him, but also the clear look of disinterest written all over his face and it made people curious.

You debated calling his name to let him know you were here but when he looked up in time to catch you walking his way, you were aware that he had been waiting for you and checking the door every couple seconds. Taehyung didn’t shy away from taking in the sight of you in an olive green maxi dress paired with a thin white cardigan tied together at the top of your breasts and below your collarbone. You wore black boot heels this time and when you sat down in front of him he couldn’t help but look at your face now.

“You’re late,” he said as he closed his book and set it to the side. You didn’t even bother to look at the Swiss watch on your wrist as you said, “It’s 8:00, like you said.”

“Yes but what I meant was 7:55 which should have translated to 7:45,” he said annoyingly arrogant as he slid a menu toward you, “As per the rules of a first date.”

His tone was serious as was his body language and yet you could see the hint of amusement in his attempt to hide a smile. You smiled softly, setting your bag down next to you, “I was unaware this was a first date.”

“So you assumed this was the second?” Taehyung had a teasing tone now, “I, personally, would not call an evening together at the cemetery a first date.”

“I do say, I’m a bit surprised to even know you consider this a date after we barely talked at all yesterday,” you said as a waitress came over with a customer service smile. Conversation floated between you two with ease.

“Are we ready to order?”

Taehyung looked at you but you weren’t all that hungry so he ordered a single slice of pastry for the two of you to share, “Yesterday was just to enjoy and accept the presence of one another, tonight is to communicate and learn.”

Taehyung never cared much for investing time into someone he was with, usually if he ever showed any interest in someone or was short lived. He’s not sure what would happen exactly but once the excitement of pining for someone romantically wore off… he just did not care anymore. There was too much to handle and he didn’t have time for any of it—not the clinginess, the crying, the whining. God, the whining got to him.

Why do you ignore me so much?

You’re always too busy painting to notice me?

Taehyung, I just want you to spend time with me.

It was the constant whining that he hated because they just did not get that he was completely devoted to his art and nothing else mattered as much as it did. Yes… maybe the small ounce of excitement he felt helped inspire him but… well he does not need whoever he slept with anymore.

The infatuation had worn off and he’s back to being alone again but now he’s a little too curious about you. Hence, why he asked you out first and in such a haste.

“Alright,” you said, “So then tell me something small, for instance, what time did you arrive? 7:45?”

“7:30 actually,” Taehyung said as he lifted his mug of hot tea to his lips, “I had business to take care of around campus and I didn’t want to make the trip back home.”

“Well if you asked for my number I would’ve arrived sooner.”

“It takes away the romantic aspect of waiting for the other to arrive without hearing from them—maybe I’ll write you a letter instead,” he teased. You just laughed softly and asked, “I didn’t peg you as much of a romantic. And what business?”

“Nothing too important.” Taehyung said vaguely and despite your curiosity you didn’t push him to answer. The corner of his lips raised as he looked at you, looked at him and found himself saying, “But as for being a romantic? It depends on who you ask.”

You focused on what he said about that instead of what his business was and that made him happy. What he did was not that important but it was necessary after what had happened with his advisor. He still couldn’t wrap his mind around what she had told him and in the end he made and impulsive decision to gift her something that might make her see things from his point of view. Of course it was slightly biased but he believed his piece really explained his views on beauty enough for her to understand.

Taehyung delivered two paintings to her inbox earlier. The first one was a more finished painting of you, still slightly distorted and a bit dark but there was no hiding the romantic element that radiated off of it. He called it ‘Genuine Beauty’. The second painting was a distorted and bright picture of his professor with exaggerated features that weren’t pleasing to the eye and he called it, ‘Beauty in the Eye of the Beholder’.

A true sentient on what he thought of her words. He wanted to know how she would twist the grotesque image of herself into something beautiful.

“What have you been up to aside from writing me?” Taehyung asked, looking at you with interest.

“Aside from that, I’m afraid not much else,” you confessed, “I’ve been in a sort of dry spell trying to understand my character.”

“Tell me about them.”

“Well, it’s a him and he’s similar to you.”

He listened closely to each word you said, taking in the curve of your mouth when you talked and the way you gestured with your hands. He’ll admit, the character did seem very similar to him so he can understand your curiosity in him and the fact that you seemed to lose yourself in your craft didn’t go unnoticed by him. He simply nodded his head and replied with short answers when asked.

In the end, he offered the only thing he could, “Let me be your case of study then, and in return you’ll be mine.”

You smiled this time, a small arrogant smile as you said, “Will you paint me like one of your French girls?”

He understood the reference and found himself saying, “If you write me like one of the lovers in your poems.”

By the end of the night you found yourself in the back of a taxi driving straight to his place under the pretense of another drink. Conversation seemed to flow with ease between you and it ranged from Davinci to Monet, Shakespeare to Milton and whatever was in between. Even when Taehyung asked such a heavy question, you didn’t seem to struggle to find an answer.

“Do you believe in love?” He had asked as the cab stopped in front of a house similar to an upstate New York townhome. He had you by the hand helping you out of the car and held onto you as he led you up the stone path.

“I have to, I’m a writer,” you told him and he seemed to pull you into him more.

“But what is it that you believe it to be?”

The question did make you think a little bit. It’s not that you thought Taehyung had an ulterior motive in asking you such a thing; it’s not like the two of you were seriously into the idea of it but you wanted to give him the right answer—one that truly described you and your ideals.

You didn’t answer his question right away as he let you into his home which was no different than what you imagined it to be. His apartment was in an old building turned into luxury Victorian styled apartments with modern eclectic touches. It was a put-together mess of sketches and canvases littered around the place. The floor was made of a dark, polished hardwood and his furniture all seemed worn through with velvet cushions and engraved wooden trimmings. He had floor-to-ceiling bay windows with twine hanging across them and papers clipped on with laundry pins to dry. There was a warm feel to the place and it had everything to do with his dedication to earthy tones and shades of Morocco red.

There were painting supplies everywhere from scattered charcoals and cans of linseed oil for his paints. There were stacks of literature books and various art ones piled high on nearly every surface and yet it all seemed to be organized to what you could assume only he could understand. Taehyung didn’t even seem to mind the clutter as he chose instead to ask, “Red or White?”

“Red.” You responded quite simply before resuming your studying of his place, the fireplace on one wall was surrounded by canvases and books—same as the vintage bookshelf and for a moment you wondered if his bedroom looked any similar. The thought vanished quickly when you got the smallest hint of which room that might be from the open door down the hall. He had plain gray sheets on an unmade bed and the furniture in there was scarce, like he barely spent any time there and if he did it wasn’t to sleep—the bags under his eyes told you so.

“Have you thought of an answer to my question yet?” Taehyung asked, reminding you yet again of what he asked earlier. He handed you a wine glass and you took it with a nod in gratitude as he left you to find a record to play.

“I’ve had an answer all along, I just wasn’t sure how you would feel about it,” you said and you could see him smile as he moved the needle over the start of the vinyl, Nocturnes, Op 9 began to play.

“I’m not looking for anything in particular, just an insight on what you think,” he said honestly and with a small sigh you decided to tell him.

“I think love is more so… a choice than an emotion?” You finally said as you watched him take a seat on the floor near his coffee table instead of the velvet couch behind him. He motioned for you to join him, “How so?”

“Anyone can feel love at any given moment but it is fleeting,” you sat down, knees nearly touching his, “Tell me, have you ever felt in love before?”

Your question seemed to catch him off guard yet he answered as bluntly as he would regarding anything else, “Only with my paintings.”

“And that had been a choice, to continue, right?” You asked, “Love like every emotion is temporary and inconsistent. Yes, doing certain things or being with certain people might invoke these feelings but once that has dwindled it is your choice to remain in that constant state of loving something—or someone. I love writing, I always have because it is my choice. I choose to subject myself to the hardships that come with my work even at times where I think I hate it. Even at times when I choose to give up I think about the joy it brings me, the emotions that pour out of me and onto every letter and word I put down on paper. I choose to love writing, I choose to devote myself to it and I choose to put it above anything else in the world, even my own relationships.”

Taehyung could see it in your eyes how strongly you felt about it. Your answer had gone slightly off topic but he understood your reference to it in every word you spew, “So when I say I believe in love… I don’t mean it in regards to a feeling that transpires throughout inconsistently, but I mean it as a choice to continue to feel that way even when it hurts and I can’t take it any more.”

A silence seemed to drag on between you and for a moment you wondered if you said too much and sounded too stupid. Taehyung seemed to inhale and exhale at once, “Well, I do say, we have very similar ideals. I don’t think I could’ve put it into better words than a writer even if I tried.”

You couldn’t help but smile, hiding it behind your wine glass, “Maybe you’ll paint them instead.”

“Maybe, I’ll paint you instead,” Taehyung said with a pale yet serene expression like he was scared to speak his words and exhilarated by them all the same.

How could someone seem to get lost and sound so dazed when talking about writing? Did writing mean as much to you as his art did to him? Is that why there was never a need for many words to be spoken between you? Was that why he was able to enjoy your presence so long and so quickly when before you would never even speak? Was there always this underlying connection between your minds and how you viewed art and your world?

You rested your glass on the table as you took in his living room again and all its character, there was a set of paintbrushes just laying on his table and you reached for one. The wood was smooth between your fingertips as you twisted it before looking up at him with a curious gaze, “With one of these?”

Taehyung simply nodded his head watching you lift your skirt up just enough to expose a bit of leg and you brushed the art tool against your calf, “It’s soft.”

His tongue ran over his lips and he leaned forward to gently take the brush back. You were nearing an apology for taking it without asking him first but he simply scooted closer to you on the blanket he laid beneath you and placed your legs over his, skirt of your dress rising even further until he was running the brush over the curve of your knee, “I use it to blend shadows, like this.”

The brush felt soft against your skin, sending tingles down your spine as he ran it over you in circular motions, eyes on yours.

“I tried painting once,” you said as his finger slowly traded with the brush until he was softly touching you, “I wasn’t that good, I couldn’t portray the right picture.”

Taehyung just smiled as he felt you hand go over his while taking the brush back until you were tracing the curve of his wrist, “Paint with your words, and show me you’d write me, like your character.”

“He is very similar to you,” you said, “In almost every aspect and I didn’t realize that until today.”

“Mm,” Taehyung hummed in content when you lifted the brush toward the collar of his unbuttoned shirt, teasing him without realizing it. You seemed to use the brush against him without much thought of what you were doing and how it affected him. You should know, though, that the feel of his art tool against his skin would feel good to him. The soft bristles tickled his collarbone, “How would he make love?”

That seemed to catch you by surprise as you slowed your touch to look up at him. He just bit his lip, hand on your leg caressing it as he waited for your response. Without missing a beat, you said, “Slowly, starting with a sweet kiss.”

A small smirk came to his face, one that only he could pull off without looking cocky. He looked smart and pretty with his glasses and blonde hair, when he spoke he made it sound poetic and when he looked at you it felt like he was focused on whatever was beneath the surface. You watched him push his glasses up the slope of his nose and before you knew it, he was leaning closer, lithe fingers coming up to touch your chin and tilt your jaw.

Although you knew what was coming, there was no denying the small second of hesitation that coursed through you when his lips so tenderly pressed against yours, his voice low as he asked, “Like this?”

You licked your lips despite the extremely small space between yours and his and without the ounce of hesitation from earlier, your hand came up to his neck where you pulled him into you for a real kiss. It started off slowly just like the two of you knew it would but there was no denying the desire that laced throughout it. At first all that happened was your mouths moving against each other, getting used to the idea of kissing — something neither of you have done in a while. Then, it became more feverish. If possible, you seemed to move closer with your hand on his thigh to support yourself. You were on your knees leaning into him and he had a single hand against the floor to support his sitting position while the other was cupping your chin for the best angle. There was a growing intensity between your mouths, lips moving more forcefully now, saliva gradually increasing when you felt his tongue make a swiping motion against your lips.

“Or like this?” His voice had become more hoarse with need. He enjoyed feeling the way your body seemed to lean toward his and he seemed to ask, “What would he do next?”

“It’s not what he would do next,” you said as you moved without your own violation and trailed your lips along the curve of his jaw, “But what would happen to him next.”

Taehyung’s head seemed to tip back as he used both of his hands to keep him upright while you moved between his patted legs to kiss down his neck. He licked at his lips, slowly blinking at the first feel of your tongue licking his ear lobe before you sucked it into your mouth making a tingle run down his spine. Your warm breath tickling his ear made his breath bitch and it didn’t take you long to realize that you had found his weak spot. Unable to help yourself you brought your mouth back to his for a kiss that was much needier than any of the ones prior.

“Y/n,” Taehyung’s throat was dry and it made his voice raspier than usual, “Touch me more.”

The words surprised you. You didn’t take him for much of a womanizer but you didn’t think he would seem this touch starved. The last person you had slept with had been your dear friend, Namjoon, and when you realized feelings were beg bring to get involved you were to end the rendezvous that had transpired between you two in an effort to save the friendship and his feelings. You couldn’t explain why you could never see him as more than a friend—and you couldn’t explain why it was so easy to view Taehyung as something more. Your mind had been drawn to him before your body and yet it all felt the same.

You began to crawl away from him and in an effort to keep this going, he went after you with another kiss before your hand touched his chest to keep him in place. It got to the point where Taehyung wasn’t sure if it was the cashmere brown sweater he wore that made his body heat up, or if it was being too close to the fireplace but he felt himself begin to break into a sweat.

He stretched his legs out before him when he got the hint of what you wanted to do watching you shimmy down until you were nearly eye level with his pants and the evident bulge becoming more prominent with each passing second. Taehyung was not ashamed of how quickly you seemed to get to him and his body’s reaction to you. Sex was a normal thing, it was poetic and passionate if done with the right person and he hasn’t done it in a while—a long while. It was completely normal for him to release a light gasp when your hand grazed his inner thigh just inching toward his growing erection.

The two of you made eye contact once more, his lip caught between his teeth and his eyelids low in a lustful gaze that matched your own. There was a strong attraction toward each other — infatuation if you will — and you can’t say there’s romantic feelings between you but there’s no denying that there has been the underlying sexual tension that rose from a clear understanding of each other’s devotion to your work. It turns you on to know he seems to connect with your ideals.

You didn’t even realize Taehyung had moved a hand behind you until he was pulling on the back of your head to drag you back into a needy kiss. Your hands had already gone toward his slacks and you had been unzipping the front as the two of you made out once more. Taehyung’s hand fell back to the ground with a groan as you yanked at his underwear making him lift his hips enough for them to come down with his pants. A small hissing sound left his lips as his hard dick finally made its appearance, springing free of its right confines, hard enough to already angle toward his navel.

Taehyung was not ashamed by the way his stomach caved in with a deep breath at the first feel of your hand wrapping around his tip spreading the beads of precum that had already dribbled out the slit. His tongue was in your mouth, sliding against yours with you swallowing each groan he let out when you began to stroke his length slowly from base to tip. Like earlier, when you tried pulling away from the kiss to catch your breath, he was following after you to stop you from breaking apart from him.

A thin line of drool connected your mouth to his as you finally pulled back, biting down on your lip. He watched you look down at his exposed member, leaning down until you were face to face with it. His long fingers curled around your hair, slowly pushing your head down just a middle until he felt the first tender lick of your tongue along his tip. Taehyung’s entire body reacted to the way you tentatively licked his head teasingly making a small shudder travel right through him.

You have to say, Taehyung has one of the prettiest dicks you’ve ever seen and you just couldn’t help but want to savor it. It was just so pretty and you found yourself wanting to play with it some more. Your hand held onto him at his base as you ran your tongue down the side of his length lathering it in drool to aid your closed fist.

His brows scrunched together as he attempted to watch what you were doing. He could feel your hand jerking him off as you teasingly kissed up his side and tip, tongue swirling around his slit that leaked precum. He just couldn’t see you over the bulk of his sweater.

With an annoyed huffed, he released your hair to pull at his sweater with one arm as he brought it up toward his chest and tucked it under his jaw. Just as he had it fixed, a low and deep sound vibrating in his chest feeling your lips finally surround his tip, sucking gently before relaxing and taking more of him inside. You made yourself relax so you could loosen your jaw enough to accommodate his length as you began to suck him off, tongue licking along the bottom side everytime you bobbed your head up and down.

You had a firm hand on his upper thigh as the other was at his base against his pelvic bone to hold his hips down and let your mouth do all the work. His sweater slipped from under his chin making him groan as he threw his head back, “So good.”

He kept his gaze on the ceiling taking in the feel of your warm and tight mouth taking his cock so deeply. You looked up at his stomach trying to see his face but with the way his head was tilted back, you just couldn’t. All you could see was his chest rise and lower with each breathy sigh he let out, ducking his cock deeper down your throat.

Unable to help yourself, you moved your hand to his navel, feeling his breathing better and he needed to see what you looked like with his dick in your mouth.

He held the end of his sweater between his teeth as he stared down the expanse of his torso to where you laid between his legs swallowing around his cock with a dark look in your eyes that had him muffling a moan.

His hips bucked helplessly into you making you swallow more and more of his length till you couldn’t breathe properly anymore and needed to get off. The hand you still had on his dick began to stroke him, wrist flicking on each upward stroke to make your palm run along his slit while you caught your breath. You watched him in complete awe, he was so hard and his balls tightened against that you couldn’t help but lick between them.

"Fuck," the sweater made it hard to hear him as hw sank his teeth into it feeling it begin to moisten annoyingly so bur he was not going to miss the sight of you kissing below his cock to his balls.

When you finally decided to take him back in your mouth there was no slow build up, it was quick and sudden as you took him down your throat to the point where you gagged around him. The way he bit into the sweater looked like a restraint and he looked so pretty with the fire reflecting off his tan, bare chest and his blonde hair was just a knotted mess from how often he shook it.

“Y/n, you feel so good,” You were never much of a talker during sex, especially if it wasn’t genuine and just superficial dirty talk but he sounded so good moaning your name even if you couldn’t hear him properly.

There wasn’t much warning aside from the incessant moaning that fell from his lips and was swallowed in cashmere for you to know he was close. His hips bucked messily into your mouth, cock twitching with the need to just let go and when you met your mouth with your fist jerking off the rest of him… he just couldn’t take anymore.

Taehyung’s head fell back with a dry moan as the urge to cum got the best of him and he let go in your mouth. You didn’t seem to mind either, once the surprise of the suddenness had worn off, you didn’t hesitate but to try and swallow as much of the thick semen as you could, not at all bothered by the taste of it. Taehyung had to let his sweater go to breathe heavily through his parted lips as he used his elbows to sit himself up in the blanket, trying to understand what had just happened.

“Mm,” you hummed, proud of yourself for making him cum down your throat and you sat up to look at him. Taehyung met your eyes with his feeling heavy with need as he licked his dry lips before forcing himself to sit up properly so he could drag you into a deep kiss. You released a light mewl in surprise, kissing him back eagerly with his hand below your ear on your neck guiding you to angle your head one way while he went the other.

There was not a single part of him that felt bothered at the taste of himself on your tongue, if anything it only made him want you more so he could repay you for treating him so well. Once you had gotten lost in your little makeout, it was easy for you to follow his lead as he moved over you to get you to lie down in his place. The only time he pulled away from you was to finally free himself from the confines of his stupid sweaters and kick off his pants the rest of the way. It didn’t take you long to get what he wanted and you hurried to remove your cardigan feeling the straps of your dress begin to slip off your shoulders. Taehyung dragged you to him, kissing along the exposed skin of your collarbone and shoulder, hands sliding down your back till they could inch the dress down and off of you, making you take it off through the bottom so he wouldn’t have to pull away again.

Your bra and underwear were made of a thin crème colored lace that looked pretty against your complexion and soft between his fingertips as he ran his hands over your covered breasts that had been taunting him all night.

A quiet gasp left your lips due to the way his lips kissed down the valley of your breaths, soft hair tickling your neck. Taehyung’s hands held onto your sides, sliding them up to the end of your bra, feeling you arch your back into his affections until he was able to move them under your to grab at the clasp. Once he was able to unhook it, he tugged it off your arms letting you throw it to the side and dragged him into another kiss when he cupped your bare tits in his warm hands, using his thumbs to rub over your hardening nipples.

“Taehyung,” you whined softly against him, eyes on the ceiling when he began to leave love bites along your neck, traveling his wet mouth lower and lower down your stomach.

“Hm,” he hummed in acknowledgement, making his way between your legs while his hands groped your chest loving the softness of your skin under his rough painter’s hands.

As Taehyung slipped further between your legs till his face was near your spread legs, he looked down. The lace underwear was transparent enough for him to see just a bit underneath and he could see a small shadow of slick over where your cunt should be. He tried to look up at you through his blonde fringe and you sat forward enough to brush it back, smiling as he pressed a teasing kiss against the hood of your clit over your underwear. You lied back down letting yourself relax feeling his fingers hook under the hem of your panties till he was tugging it off and move your thighs over his shoulders so he four fit snugly against you.

Taehyung didn’t waste time teasing you, he had already been so turned on that not even cumming down your throat was able to calm his raging hormones. He just wanted to have you as soon as he could, any way he could, and that meant with his tongue stiffening as he parted your folds around him before licking flatly toward your clit. A light moan left your lips as your clit immediately reacted to stimulation, a small gush of slick pushing out of your pussy with arousal. Taehyung was not inexperienced in the art of making someone cum undone on his to hue and that was becoming more and more evident with the way he made out with your cunt like it was your mouth.

“Oh my god,” you threw your head back, out of breath, as his tongue began to flick messily at your clit while hands slid further down your inner thighs until he was using his thumbs to pull your folds apart for him. You could feel your wetness begin to drip further down but he was quick to leave your clit and lap his tongue against your wet entrance where your arousal seemed to form a puddle at. With the way his thumbs kept you open, you felt everything.

Every now and then his thumb would teasingly push in just a little more than before, acting like he didn’t even notice he was doing it while he hungrily sucked on your clit, tugging it between his lips. His thumb was rubbing against your labia, pressing into it, teasing your entrance every now and then by pushing into it until he felt your legs begin to tremble around him. Unable to help himself, he got a big more rough, tonguing your clit with such effort that his head shook with eagerness, swallowing your slick and pressing his face into your cunt to taste all that you had to offer.

“Oh,” you breathed out shakily, hand sinking into his hair when he nosed at your clit, tongue joining his finger as he thrusted it into you, “I-I, oh god.”

“Mhm,” Taehyung nodded, urging you to let go of him and you had to bite your lip to keep from moaning. Your thighs tried shutting but his head didn’t let you and instead you pressed them against him making him groan with need, eyes nearly rolling as he doubled his efforts.

Your throat became dry as you planted heavily, hips bucking against his mouth until finally you felt the knot in your stomach come undone. His motions did not miss a beat in licking everything you had to offer as your orgasm came in a wave.

“S-so, good,” you breathed out tiredly feeling your pussy walls clenching around nothing and as much as you wanted to just be done, you needed him inside you. When he came up to kiss you, you wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him flush against you so his hard cock rutted against your wet pussy. The taste of each other on your tongues was what made it easy for you two to want to keep going without the thought of repercussions. His hand slid between your sweaty bodies to hold his cock, lining it up with your entrance, bumping into your clue as he refused to break away from the kiss.

You wrapped your arms around his neck, holding him close as the two of you looked at each other with such need, such want that your lips didn’t spend too long apart from each other.

Your tongue met his just as his cock met the inside of your pussy, taking it slowly as he stroked himself with your slick to ease himself in better. His dick was rock hard, and your pussy was so fucking wet he couldn’t help but moan into your mouth as you took him in.

Taehyung has to hold onto you with a hand on your waist to keep you from sliding away from him too much as the blanket wrinkles on his wooden floor. He had his other tucked by the side of your head looking down at you lovingly as he finally began to thrust, “Tell me if it’s too much, love.”

“Mhm,” you said softly, legs falling apart even more to accommodate his as he dug his knees into the floor so he use his hips to fuck you better. A groan left his lips at the expert roll of your pelvis against his taking more and more of his length inside your tight walls.

“You make me feel so full,” you moaned gently into his ear as he dropped his head down against your neck to try and ignore the fact that your pussy around his dick without any protective layer between them felt so fucking good. You were already so close and he’s barely started. He fucked you slowly but firmly, getting himself used to being inside you and sucking on your neck, his hand left your hip to cup your breast once more and you gasped when he pinched your nipple.

“So tight,” Taehyung breathed out heavily with a single touch thrust that had your walls tightening around him, “So good for me.”

He did it again, and once again drew another moan out of you, repeating his thrusts more roughly than before until you were moaning out a string of his name.

Taehyung was well endowed and you never doubted that for even a second. He knew how to have sex, not just to fuck, but to have sex. It wasn’t just loud groans and rough thrusts. He was sensual, he kissed your neck, whispered sweet words of praise in your ear, touch your body as he fucked you almost passionately—unlike the usual guys you hook up with.

“It’s like you were made for me,” Taehyung groaned, brows scrunched together in concentration as he pulled back to sit and swing your right leg over him to press against your left until you were nearly lying on your side. He laid down next to you, curving his body against yours and lifting your leg back and held it up with his knee as he fucked you from the side. His lips were against your ear, whispering, “Just for me, like my own creation.”

“Mhm,” you hummed, “Just for you, please Taehyung, I’m so close.”

You looked straight out of a vintage erotica film. His apartment was warm due to the fireplace and comforting because of the classical music playing. The moon looked over you as you had sex, nearly love making, lying on your sides with his body cuddled into yours, fucking you with his cock while groping your breasts in his hands. You had to angle your head back and then your neck to kiss him and he swallowed your mouth with his, thrusts getting tougher as he curled around you, “Me too, love, all for you.”

“So paint me,” you moaned, fucking back against him.

For a moment he wondered if you meant on a canvas, or with his cock in your pussy, but he realized he would gladly do both if you let him. Your hand slid back to guide his hips into yours, “Cum, Taehyung, inside me, please.”

“Oh god,” a low growl left his lips as he dug his face into your hair, “Fuck, Y/n, d-don’t tempt me.”

“Do it,” your hand came up to his hair now, dragging his head toward yours until your lips met in a messy kiss, “I’m going to cum, Tae, please.”

It wasn’t a good idea. You were on the pill but he didn’t know that, all he knew was that he wasn’t wearing a condom and he wanted to fill you with so much cum that he painted you white.

“Mhm,” he moaned when you tugged on his bottom lip between your teeth and his hand pinched your hips, “Cum, Y/n, please—oh fuck.”

The only thing that came from you two was the sound of skin slapping as the urge to cum overtook you both and you were fucking like rabbits in heat. Nothing but animalistic grunts left him as he finally felt the flood of release you let go around with him with a whine of his name and before he knew it, he was cumming.

You immediately felt full with his release as it joined yours, cock pulsing inside you as he waited a moment to reel his emotions back in, sweaty forehead pressed against yours, “So good.” He hugged you closely, breathing heavily into your neck, softly kissing your skin affectionately.

It took you both some time to regain awareness of what had just happened and you lied on the fur blanket he had tossed on the floor. The fire sizzled behind you and some classical song [you were ashamed to admit you didn’t know] was playing. Taehyung seemed to be more in control of himself now and reached up to his small table in search of his pack. Once he had a cigarette between his lips, he lay back down next to you to catch his breath, pressing it to yours next.

There was a sort of glow to your skin, your eyes shined with the night sky reflecting through the windows. Light came from the fire not far behind and a small dim lamp in the corner yet the moon was still casted over you two.

His eyes traced your features once more and before he knew it, he was saying something unexpected, “She was the most beautiful person he had ever seen.”

Despite the way your heart seemed to stop, your brows furrowed, “What?”

Taehyung took another drag of his cigarette, “Who wrote that? ‘She was the most beautiful person he had ever seen’ I read it somewhere… ‘With stars in her eyes’.”

Your eyes seemed to widen as you thought it over for a second. A sense of realization flooded you but even knowing you might be right, you still shyly asked, “Virgina Woolf?”

“Yes, I believe so, ‘She was the most beautiful person he had ever seen, with stars in her eyes and veils in her hair.’ I read it years ago,” Taehyung stared out at the moon through the bay windows, “Anyways, it just came to mind, and reminded me of you.”

There was a cloud of smoke drifting into nothing like they were his words being absorbed all around you. After that a silence seemed to fill the room and it was so calming in fact that you found yourself lulled to sleep against his chest.

It wasn’t until hours later when you had woken to loud noises, did you realize that he had not had the luxury of peaceful post-sex sleep.

The first thing you had noticed in your haze of sleep was the sky still blue out and the fire still crackling behind you. The second was that you still slept on the floor and Taehyung was not beside you anymore. It took you some time to realize all the noise that had woken you up was coming from him and his quick brush strokes.

Taehyung had a pair of jeans on and a smock. He didn’t even bother with a shirt, just slipped the smock over his bare chest and he sat on the floor with a pallet full of paint in his hands as he did soft strokes on his canvas. He was so focused that he didn’t seem to mind his glasses which had slipped down to the tip of his nose, lips slightly parted in concentration and eyes bouncing around his painting.

You wondered what this meant for you. You didn’t know what time it was but the way he worked so diligently didn’t even make you want to stay, what if it would bother him? You don’t want to do that and he seems to have already forgotten you were there and what you had just done. With a small sigh you looked around for all of your things, finishing getting dressed and in search of your shoes and bag.

Taehyung’s strokes were fast and agile, he didn’t even have to think of how he was painting, he was just moving mindlessly and mixing all the right colors and blending in all the right places. You took a seat on the sofa trying to put your boots back on.

“What are you doing?” Taehyung asked but his eyes never left the canvas. You could barely hear him over the sound of the record player still playing and it took you a second to know he was even talking to you.

You looked up curiously, “Um… it’s late, I should probably go, I don’t want to disturb your work.”

You were very understanding actually. There are many times you’ve woken up in the middle of the night to write and you didn’t waste time on thinking of anything else while doing it so if Taehyung was the same about his painting then you didn’t want to bother him.

Taehyung pushed his glasses up with the tip of his brush as he finally looked at you, “You won’t disturb me. Stay.”

He watched as you brought your lower lip between your teeth in thought before saying, “Seriously Tae, I don’t mind leaving. You’re working, I understand.”

“But I mind,” Taehyung said in his deep voice that sounded even deeper this late with the fire in the fireplace still crackling and Beethoven’s String Quartet No. 14 playing in the background. You didn’t say anything for a moment and he ran a hand through his messy hair, a small paint streak coating a strand, “Won’t you stay, Y/n? I’ve been in a slump and right now it just hit me all at once and I think it’s because of you. Please, won’t you stay?”

“Can I watch?”

Taehyung did not hesitate to nod his head and motion for you to sit on the floor next to him so you moved quickly to do so.

By the end of the night you watched him paint until dawn with your head resting against his back adoringly. His brush strokes were hypnotizing and the way he captured the light perfectly had you in awe, especially when you realized it was a painting of you.

It inspired you the way he was so devoted to his work and it reminded you of yourself.

Your days carried on as usual after that night with Taehyung. The only differences being ones that involved him. For instance, he has called you a couple times —he’s completely against the act of texting. It’s never anything major, usually to ask how your day has been or to get coffee. There was no sign of an actual relationship but it was close to it.

Today you had your shared anatomy class and he sat next to you instead of behind you like he normally would.

You’re not very fond of the fact that he’s distracting you more than you would like him to but it’s something you can’t explain. Your pen scribbled away in your yellow page notebook with word after word just piecing together effortlessly. Taehyung was utterly fascinated by it all, sometimes you wouldn’t even look down but your pen seemed to never fully lift off the page. You filled page after page in the three hour class, eyes on the professor but nothing you wrote down had to do with what he was teaching.

Every now and then you would look over at him and your eyes would meet, he would raise a brow and you would give him a smile, before looking down to write.

“I don’t think you heard a single thing he said today,” Taehyung said once the two of you made your way out of the lecture hall side by side. From the way you stared off into space, lips moving every now and then as if mouthing silent words, he knew you weren’t listening. He doubts you meant to ignore him but clearly you seemed to be in your own world right now, just thinking about writing and writing and he gets it.

You weren’t thinking of anything else, and he knows this because he had to grab onto your waist and pull you back to keep you from walking right into the pouring rain just outside. You seemed to snap back into reality and looked around, “Did you say something?”

Taehyung was opening his umbrella for you, pulling you under it beside him, “I’ve written notes for you, you seemed a bit distracted to take them yourself today.”

Your eyes slowly widened in surprise as it finally dawned on you that you had spent the last three hours doing nothing but writing about him. You came to a sudden stop and he waited there beside you with the rain pounding on his umbrella. With a small sigh, he let go of you to rummage through his bag with his free hand and took out his notebook, “I wrote two of everything.”

“Taehyung,” you said, “You didn’t have to do that.”

“I know,” he said with a shrug, “But you were so lost in your writing I didn’t want anything disturbing you. I had no problem with it, I’m a fast writer and a good listener.”

“Thank you,” you finally began to walk again now that you couldn’t bear the cold standing in one place, “I am bad at focusing on anything else when I write.”

“I understand,” he had to speak up so you could hear him over the rain, “And if you do not think I would be a bother, maybe you’ll let me watch you write more?”

“You’ll get bored,” you said as the two of you walked toward his car, a vintage Chevrolet Corvette that belonged to his grandfather.

“Watching you?” He asked, holding the door open for you, “Never.”

Your apartment was how he pictured it—books and papers scattered everywhere. You were still much neater than him but not by much, clearly the two of you focused too much on your craft that it’s completely taken over everything.

Your place was small yet spacious and well furnished with vintage chairs and mahogany bookshelves. There was a slight clutter of books upon books and dead plants that didn’t get enough sun with the curtains closed. It was warm and had your lovely scent. There was a stack of papers on a desk next to a laptop and an expensive looking typewriter.

There wasn’t much of a conversation going on between you, the last time you said something to him was when you asked him if he needed a drink. Your back was to him and he spent about an hour or so sitting alone on the daybed as he drew in his sketchbook.

After some time when you finally decided to join him, you were exhausted and physically drained. You lied down with your head on his lap looking up at him when his hand began to caress your cheek. “Taehyung.”

“Yes, my love?” He asked with his gaze meeting yours. The name just slipped and he didn’t care to take it back, only watched you curiously still waiting to hear what you would say. You blinked once, “I think I’m beginning to understand better.”

You had been writing nonstop for a long time but for the first time it felt like you finally understood your work.

There was no way to explain it but these interactions with Taehyung—your living reverie—have opened your eyes to his character and the way you wanted to write him in the first place. He was everything you had been searching for.

He leaned back, startled by the sudden way you sat up, hand around his looking at him, “You.”

“Me?” Taehyung asked with his hands on your waist, shifting you more on his lap, “You understand me?”

All it took was one nod of your head for him to be pulling you into a kiss meeting you halfway. He had a hand on your chin, angling your head opposite of his letting the kiss deepen, soon he was tracing the curve of your neck with his jaw. Every ounce of lust and greed poured out in his fingers when he touched you.

It didn’t take Jungkook long to realize something about his friend seemed different. He was used to Taehyung isolating himself when he had a wave of creativity. There would be days on end where Jungkook would call only for every call to be ignored. He would even write his friend letters but he never answered him. When he was back to normal, Taehyung would look tired like he hadn't eaten or slept in days.

Right now, Jungkook sees Taehyung but he doesn’t think Taehyung sees him. Despite sitting across from him, he wouldn’t look his way. Instead he was staring out the large windows that overlooked the courtyard

“Have you eaten?” Jungkook asked, looking up from his sketchbook. The two had been on the second floor of the library this evening studying classical art techniques. Jungkook had gotten bored and began to sketch up an idea for another sculpture while Taehyung drew someone he couldn’t recognize. His friend didn’t even so much as flinch and give any sign that he was listening.

A small scoff left his lips, “Taehyung.” With an annoyed huff, he reached for his sketchbook and watched with a confused expression, “Who is this?”

It was quite detailed despite how little time he had to draw this and Jungkook was in awe. For a second he wondered if this was original work from Taehyung, all created from his mind but as he followed Taehyung’s gaze out the window, he realized it wasn’t.

It was you.

You sat on a wooden bench facing the swan fountain and there was a book in your hands. Jungkook couldn’t make out the book but seemed to have all your attention because you stopped every now and then to highlight something then jot it down in a notebook. There were powder blue headphones on your head and you were in a red lace long sleeve top with roses embroidered on and under was a white shirt. The black skirt you wore reached below your knees with a slit on the side that exposed your boots and over it all, you had on a black coat. He’ll admit, you did look rather captivating against the dead green of the lawn and trees paired with the foggy sky from days on end of rain.

Taehyung seemed to have found his newest muse and it was all he could think about.

“Are you still interested in her?” Jungkook finally asked, catching the way a small smile seemed to fall on Taehyung’s face—something he rarely got to see despite how easily he gave them to you. Jungkook did recognize you in the drawing better once he got a good look at you. He had almost forgotten seeing you weeks ago when he was with Taehyung, but he had certainly forgotten his friend’s knowledge and curiosity of you.

“Only a little,” Taehyung said, ignoring the way Jungkook looked at him with disbelief. He was used to his friend having a sudden infatuation with a certain person but they were short lived and always ended with the poor girl crying about how cold he was—Jungkook knows because he was always there to pick up their broken pieces with a night in his bed [Taehyung never cared].

“She’s hot,” Jungkook said, half teasingly to read how his friend would feel. Taehyung merely gave him a side glance in acknowledgment but the smile he had for you had tightened as he looked back outside.

“It’s that guy again,” Jungkook pointed out as they both watched outside, “What’s his name?”

Kim Namjoon.

Taehyung was used to seeing him around throughout the years but he never had a need to pay attention to him before. Like most of those who he sees in passing they never become more than that—just a passing blur that he doesn’t care to know a single thing about. Namjoon used to be one of the ones he ignored until he heard you mention him once or twice.

“Who knows,” Taehyung said, shifting his gaze down to his sketch pad avoiding the sight of Namjoon and you now standing like you had somewhere to go.

Jungkook, the ever curious and procrastinating, kept watching you just out of sheer boredom. The library had gone dark aside from the few kerosene lamps scattered across tables but it was already getting hard to see his sketches properly so now he’s just waiting for Taehyung to finish.

Suddenly, all too suddenly that it made him jump in his seat, Taehyung was standing, shoving his things in his bag loud enough to create an echo in the cold library. Jungkook looked up at him, pencil laying limp in his hand now, “Are we done?”

Taehyung pushed his chair into the wooden table, not bothering to look back at his friend as he stormed off, “Yes.”

Not long after he watched his friend make his abrupt leave from the library… he saw him now approaching you and Namjoon.

You were blissfully unaware that you had been watching through the windows of a library as much as you were unaware of Taehyung coming up behind you as Namjoon talked. “I was thinking maybe we could go catch that new movie that just came out.”

“Oh, I was going to do some writing—You won’t believe it Joonie,” your tone changed so suddenly as you grabbed him by the arm, jerking him toward you excitedly carrying on like he hadn’t said anything, “It’s like I can’t stop writing, you wouldn’t believe how easily the words are flowing like… I don’t know, I’ve never felt this way before, Joonie.”

“That’s good, Y/n but,” Namjoon’s words slowed down as he looked behind you at the looming figure standing a few feet away. He’s never spoken a word to Kim Taehyung despite both being grad students, he only knows of him from what others have spoken and he’s very… cold. Since when did you and him begin to talk? Namjoon took your hands in his as he pulled you closer to have your attention knowing you still didn’t know who was behind you, “But it’s nice to get a break, you don’t want to overwork yourself.”

“You don’t get it, Namjoon,” you said his name instead of the affectionate nickname you’ve always called him, he couldn’t help but look at Taehyung who pretended like he wasn’t watching closely with a cigarette dangling between his fingers, “I can’t stop. I cannot stop. If I-I do, I don’t know.”

His gaze shifted behind you making you turn to look too and your eyes seemed to soften as you made eye contact with the dirty blonde you’ve been spending time with lately.

“Y/n,” Taehyung’s deep voice spoke as he stared at you two, “I thought you would be busy writing”

“I’m on my way to right now,” you said, taking a step toward him with your back to your friend, “Would you join me?”

A smile came to his face as he pushed his glasses up, “If I could paint you again.”

You stood still in thought. The first time he painted you was after you had sex for the first time when it felt warm, passionate and hungry. He never slept that night, he stayed up the entire time getting the right blends of pigment on your body as it lay on the flue blanket completely nude. You’re not sure if he knew what saying that would make you think but from the way his brow raised questioning made you think he did.

Namjoon felt his jaw clench, eyes glaring at Taehyung who didn’t even bat an eye in his direction. You looked back to Namjoon now who waited for you with a bated breath. You walked up to him making his heart face as you pressed your lips against his cheek with your softly brushing against his jaw. The kiss was tender on his face and when he looked down at you, you gave him an apologetic smile, “Will you call me?”

“Will you answer?” Namjoon asked but you weren’t beside him anymore. You were next to Taehyung who took your book bag off your shoulders and put it over his, a hand grazing your back as he talked to you but too far out of your friend’s ear shot.

“What did your friend want?” Taehyung asked.

“To see a movie but I have to finish what I’m writing before it slips my mind,” You said moving your hand to his bent arm walking alongside him, “I’ll have to catch up with him another day.”

He didn’t have anything to say to that but you could still feel his eyes on you. A part of you wanted to ignore his gaze because you find yourself at a loss for words any time he looks at you that way. It’s like he sees through you not at you and sometimes you don’t know which one is better.

There’s no denying that he likes the look of you, he finds you attractive and not just physically. You know that. You just can’t tell what he’s thinking that makes him look at you that way.

“Namjoon.”

He stood alone where you once had been beside him, just watching you leave with the art major he had no idea you were even involved with. Since when did you begin to talk to him and how did Namjoon never notice? Did you just decide that you would not be open with him anymore?

“Jimin,” Namjoon looked at his friend, a bit stunned, “Hey.”

The ballerina watched after you alongside him now as he asked, “Y/n is leaving with Taehyung?”

“Are they together?” Namjoon asked suddenly, “Did you know?”

Jimin shook his head no, “Not exactly, I mean, Y/n never hid the fact that she had a thing for Taehyung, I’m just surprised to see them leave together. Y/n never told me they began to talk.”

Namjoon bit his lip nervously, “You don’t think they’ll date or anything, do you? This just seems sudden.”

He looked to his friend for some comfort but all Jimin did was shrug his shoulders and say, “I don’t know, you know Y/n doesn’t really date and neither does he, they’re always too focused on writing or painting to think about anything else. Who knows, they might just work out because of how similar they are.”

“Yeah but…” Namjoon was trying to find words to say but nothing came to mind. Maybe he was just being bitter… he’s been your friend for years. He’s always been there for you anytime you needed him without question. You were attracted to him enough to sleep with him but was that all it was ever going to be? You won’t see him as more than just a friend but then Kim Taehyung comes along and suddenly you have no problem walking away from Namjoon to go with him?

Jimin looked at his friend apologetically, he sympathized with him. He’s known you for longer than Namjoon has and he’s been through this exact same thing before too. There was a time when he thought you and him were the closest until Namjoon came along and suddenly you spent all your time with him instead. Now Namjoon is experiencing what Jimin did but this time because of Taehyung and he feels bad for that.

“Look, I’m going to be honest,” Jimin tried to work out what he was going to say so it didn’t come off badly, “I think, Y/n loves the idea of Taehyung on paper… how she can write or create him like she’s done with you and I in the past. I think maybe it’s nothing past something superficial but at the same time…”

“At the same time,” Jimin repeated himself with a bated breath, “I see a lot of similarities between them especially when it comes to putting their work first and maybe that’s something they seem to understand about each other that we don’t.”

Namjoon didn’t get it.

So was it not that you two had feelings for each other?

Was it not that you might love each other?

Was it just that you two understood each other?

He doesn’t get it. Now, Namjoon might not understand your obsession with perfecting every aspect of your writing… but that didn’t mean he didn’t love you. He loved you a lot—more than he assumes Taehyung could love you.

It’s not like it’s a secret, Namjoon has always been open about the way he felt about you so why did you choose someone else? All because he couldn’t understand you the way Taehyung might? Is it because he can’t just look at you and know what you need the way Taehyung can?

Is it because he doesn’t spend hours missing sleep or eating just so he could obsess over his work too?

How could Taehyung possibly understand you more than he does?

::.

okokok this was kinda long but I’m sorry, blonde Taehyung as an art major was doing it for me 🫶this was a romance but also not necessarily bc the focus isn’t entirely on their relationship 🤒neither one of them are supposed to be super likable so if you hate them and the way oc did Joon and Jimin dirty i get it 🫡but they just genuinely do not think about anything but their craft.

permanent taglist: @notmyfaultbutours @rerefundslocals @fandems @sugaluvmyg @guvgguk @kimyishin @libra04 @kooromiwrld @classycreationcupcake-blog @alwaysdreamingnotsleeping @cherrymonlightt @nikkiordonez12 @asking4-sanity @thvlover @saweetspoiled @uwu2rawr @shaybts-blog @babycandy111 @tearyjjeon @joons-uparupa @jeonninja @yellowcupid08 @02010802faves @knudsenheggedel @skzthinker @unnatae @aurorthi @beautywine @95ene @taekookstata @lilliankoo @shescharlie @annenakamura @lesoleile @burnahtsw @babybella337 @kooloveys @ku-ku @chaelvrx @minnie-mouser22 @Imeneghd @whoa-jo @evajeonsworld @marvelbun @sunnikthv v @kochycooky @heyhowyoudoin3 @acielelyseen @giselleswifeee @jeonjk25 @ilikeitlikethatt @bangmechanpls @lvr2seok @badbyeyoongi @jaerisdiction @watermelonjuice15 @artmsmaid @xyahrinx @angeleen777 @jooniesxbby @brillantdarling

#kim taehyung #bts taehyung #taehyung smut #taehyung au #taehyung #taehyung imagine #Taehyung fic #Taehyung fanfic #taehyung oneshot #taehyung one shot #taehyung x reader #taehyung x oc #Taehyung angst #taehyung fluff #bts angst #bts fic #bts imagines

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dreamgirlsclipscom · 13 days

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Laura’s Unaware Footjob - (Full HD 1080p Version)

Laura really enjoys playing video games, and since I got my PS5 console last year, she has asked me several times to come and try out some of her favorite games. I told her she could come whenever she wanted, but Laura is such a busy little princess! She often works more than forty hours a week, and she always works with her old white running shoes on her feet. Plus, she's in such a hurry when she goes to work in the morning that she often wears the same socks she wore the day before! This day, she asked me if she could come play after work, and she told me that she would be up for playing all evening! The idea of stroking and sniffing her feet while she played her video games slightly crossed my mind, because I am so addicted to the strong smell of her feet! She has such stinky feet after work too! I couldn't wait to see her arrive at my home!

Laura got into the living room on her stomach and immediately started playing. I asked her if I could set up a camera, just to film her playing her video game, and she thought it was a little strange, but she didn't mind at all. I then went to sit on the couch behind her, and I was now ready to watch her play all evening, and watch her cute little feet! After a while, it was so hot that she asked me if I could take off her running shoes, so I took off her running shoes, and that's when I noticed that the smell of her socks were so intense! Just by taking off her shoes, I could smell the smell of her dirty, sweaty socks wafting up to my nose, and that really turned me on! As she didn't see me, I took the opportunity to take a few deep breaths inside her running work shoes, and the smell was really horrible! It made no sense! The smell of her running shoes made me hard instantly, and as I was already in my pajamas, my hard member slowly slipped out of my pants, without me even realizing it! I took the opportunity to massage her feet a little, and I discreetly slipped my hard penis between her two feet, so that she would give me a footjob, without her even realizing it! Laura was now busy playing Grand Theft Auto on Play Station, and she was giving me a footjob with her dirty and smelly socks at the same time, without even realizing it! I took the opportunity to masturbate a little with her feet, but I was so scared that she would turn around! I was in heaven!

Laura also asked me to take off her socks because it was very hot, and as she still couldn't see what was happening behind her in this position, I took off both of her socks and then put them in my mouth! I really wanted to taste her foot sweat after her long day of work, and it was the only way for me to do it secretly, without her realizing it! My very hard penis immediately slipped between her two feet, and she continued to give me a footjob while playing her video game, without worrying about what was happening behind her! She even massaged my balls a little with her toes, and I was really hard! At one point, I thought I was actually going to cum on her pretty stinky feet, but I didn't want to get caught! I watched her play Grand Theft Auto, at the same time as she masturbated me with her pretty feet, and I even took the opportunity to film the whole thing with my phone! My hard cock slid so well between her two feet! Her bare feet were warm and a little sweaty after her day at work, so it was just perfect! At one point, she asked me to play a little, and that's when she turned around and saw that I was really taking advantage of the situation! She realized I was masturbating with her feet, and she was kind of mad! I never thought I was going to get caught! How can I be so stupid? This magnificent video comes in several versions. The standard version, and the extended version which is a little longer. The ultimate version comes with the full version of my iPhone 15 in addition to the extended version, and the virtual version is simply the full version of the clip filmed with the iPhone! What a beautiful clip, and what a pretty little princess this Laura is! She's driving me more and more crazy!

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pinkzier · 1 month

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roommate!patrick zweig who is a fucking pervert

Stanford wasn't used to putting two people of different genders together, but you don't know how you unfortunately fell in with him

At first glance, you already knew he wasn't decent. When you stepped in, he was fucking a girl in the bed you were assigned to sleep in, all sweaty and out of breath. You felt yourself blush and you cleared your throat in an attempt to make him realize your presence there, It didn't do much good.

What could you expect from a guy who had just had sex and is going to shake your hand? his big, stupid grin as he pants "Hey, Patrick.." "I know who you are"

You could have already prepared yourself for this, but no. You swore he would be different and that had just been— a bad first interaction, right? Mistakes happen.

Fuck this. because he leaves his used briefs in the room, he walks around in just his underwear while you're there, and he even masturbates. Of course, this wasn't a big problem, but he was whining so loudly that you swear the most heavy sleeper in the world could hear it.

besides that he seems like a fucking animal because you spend most of your time listening to his whining and "F-fuck— oh..g-god...that's it.." so many times you've lost count. he leaves the toilet seat all sticky and he always says the same thing "Ooh..about that..i swear i'll clean it" and he never does.

and you couldn't cut ties with him even if you wanted to, he was a fucking ghost, always calling you, asking for help with things that were so easy and always wanting to touch you, before you just thought it was an accident but after seeing so many times that crooked and wide smile on his face while he mumbled "Sorry" when he rubbed his bulge against your leg for the third time that day made you realize that he's a pervert

and you swear he's never had a decent interaction with a girl because he purposely leaves his door open while he fucks some girls, thrusts so loud you hear the bed creaking on purpose, not to mention a girl every week he introduces you to saying "She's the only one I like" with that annoying smile while begging you to agree instead of just saying he says that to every girl every week

But now. This is the last straw

you arrived at the dorm after a long, exhausting day and your hands and legs hurt so much, besides that you spent 20 minutes trying to open the damn door because for some reason it wasn't opening, and when you open the door you are faced with noises coming from your room, You swear that if Patrick is fucking a girl in your bed again you won't feel sorry for him. walking slowly towards your bed you see Patrick— masturbating. Wait, with your panties?

his hair is all disheveled, his eyes half-open, all sweaty while your panties that you wore today are in his left hand in a slow rhythm, while rubbing his length "Oh fuck..s-so good" he whimpers "T-that's it— your pussy... so tight around my cock" he says breathlessly, breathing heavily as his hips shake against his hand.

that's quite a sight— no wait, what the hell is he doing there??

It was no secret that he was attractive, like he was a jerk but all the girls wanted to sleep with him, so he already knew he could get what he wanted because of his beauty, but what did he expect from you? That you would go there and help him? Well..

and in a flash his eyes fly to yours that weren't even focused on his, finding much more interesting the pulsing length in front of you. a blink. two blinks, he seems to snap out of the haze of confusion in his head. you expect him to apologize. even blush if you didn't know better, but then. thick, hot lines fly from the pink head of his cock, staining the sheets beneath him.

Was he perverted enough to cum after you just caught him in your bed? wow.

what the hell are you going to do now. your bed is covered in cum from your roommate who masturbated. in your bed, with your panties and in front of you

you really don't want to have to put life into patrick's body that is already like a rock, besides You're too tired to have to put up with his excuses about cleaning up his mess that he obviously won't clean up.

It (he can wait

#challengers movie #challengers 2024 #patrick zweig x reader #patrick x reader #patrick zweig #patrick zweig smut #patrick zweig x you #patrick zweig imagine #art donaldson smut #art donaldson x reader #art donaldson #tashi challengers #tashi duncan x reader #tashi duncan smut #tashi duncan x you #𝜗𝜚 ˖ ࣪ ‹ thoughts . ' ⁺˖ ⸝⸝

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notthatmultifandomwhore · 1 month

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Hugh surprises you (NSFW/18+)

Warnings: Vibrator used, Smut w/ plot, Drinking, voyeurism (kinda), no protection (wrap it before you tap it), use of nicknames (princess, babygirl)

Hugh and I have been seeing each other for a couple of months now while he's doing press for his new movie, "Deadpool and Wolverine". He's been working non-stop and has been doing countless interviews to promote the movie with with co-worker and best friend, Ryan. I haven't really gotten the chance to see him or talked to him because of how busy he is. And even though I havent been together long, I really miss him.

I was at home, relaxing after a long week of working and errands. I was spending some time in your bedroom late at night when you start thinking about Hugh. I thought about our first date, where he took me to dinner to a really nice place. I thought about how kind he was on his first date and how handsome he was. I remember I was so nervous because of how attractive he was. He wore a blue, tight button down shirt that showed off his muscles with denim jeans that complimented his body so well. Next thing I know, I start thinking about what happened after dinner.

We drank a little too much wine, so he arranged for a car to bring us to his house, with my consent of course. When we got to his house, he pulled me in close and kissed me. He had my arms wrapped around my waist and gently pushed me against the back of the door. His lips traveled from my lips down my jaw to my neck as he left soft kisses. Once he got close to my ear, he whispered, "I've been wanting to do that all night."

As I continue to think about our first date, I start feeling a familiar heat between my thighs. I get into my bed and I turn off the lights so I can continue to get in the mood. I reach into my bedside table drawer to find a bullet vibrator that I got from a friend's bachelorette party. I never thought I'd use it, but desperate time call for desperate measures. I strip down to nothing but a big t-shirt I had around, and turn it on. As I start to slowly press it against my clit, I continue to think about Hugh. He has such a nice figure, and he always knew to pleasure me. Even though we only slept together a couple times, each time had me weak for days.

As I continue to think dirty thoughts about him, I start feeling a familiar pit in my stomach, and I get too distracted to the point where I don't hear my front door open and close.

(Switch to 3rd Person POV)

Hugh walks in to the apartment, wanting to surprise his lovely girlfriend. He quietly sets down his luggage from his trip, thinking your asleep and not wanting to wake you up. As he walks closer to your bedroom, he stops dead in his tracks as he hears you moan and whimper. He immediately got concerned because he felt so bad for being away for so long, and thought that maybe you weren't alone in the room.

So he quickly, but quietly, started picking up his luggage again to leave, but as he was about to leave, he heard you moaning his name. And as much as it could've been a coincidence, he became curious. So he put all of his stuff back down, and come up to the bedroom door to find it cracked open. When he looked though the crack in the door, his throat become dry at the sight in front of him. There you were, pleasuring yourself to the thought of him. He was shocked to see you like this, but then he started thinking about your first date and how wild you were while he was thrusting into you. He found his pants getting tighter and his knees feeling weaker as he realized that you don't know that he's watching you. And the thought of that drove Hugh wild.

As he kept watching you, he started palming himself through his pants. You moaned his name again, and that's when he couldn't take it anymore.

(Switch to 1st POV)

I feel the pit in my stomach grow bigger, and the noises I make become more desperate. And while I keep going, I begin to feel like I'm not alone. But I brush the feeling off since I was so close.

Then that's when I hear him.

"That's it babygirl. Just like that."

I jump and grab the covers as I open my eyes to see Hugh standing there. As much as I was shocked that he was there, I was in so much heat that I needed him right then and there. So I got out of bed and grabbed him by the shirt and started kissing him. By the way his arms wrapped around me, I knew he felt the same hunger. He wrapped my legs around his waist and carries me to the bed. A few seconds later, he stopped kissing me.

"As much as I want to say hi and ask how you've been, I really need to feel you on my cock." He says as he takes off his shirt. I then follow his lead and take off my shirt, leaving me in nothing.

(Switch to 3rd person POV)

He takes a few seconds to admire the view in front him, and then returns to kissing you. His lips feel so soft and warm against your skin, as they travel down your neck, down your stomach, and he goes between your legs. He lifts your legs on top of his shoulders, and wraps his arms around your thighs so you can move around as much. He then slowly kisses your thighs and travels down until he gets to your wet center. He licks as the way around, as you place your hands in your hair and pull a little.

"Fuuccck princess, you really missed me, huh?" He says in-between licks.

"Y-y-yes!" You managed to say as he continues to attack your clit.

"Fuck, I need you so bad princess." He stops what he's doing and takes of his pants and boxers, making his cock spring up while it throbs and aches for attention. He then gets in top of you, and slowly, yet some what aggressively puts it in, making you both make the most pornographic moans ever. He then thrusts in you at a somewhat fast pace, wanting to make up for lost time but not wanting to hurt you. As he's pounding into you, he places both his hands in yours and kisses you so passionately.

"Fuck, I had millions of women and men trying to throw themselves these past couple weeks, but all I think about was you." He says as he goes a little harder, hitting spots that make your eyes to the back of your head. He kisses down your jaw and makes small marks on your neck as you feel yourself getting close. It also like he sensed you feeling close .

"Oh fuck, cum for me princess."

You both reach your highs as you both moan and hold each other close. You both sit there for a few seconds to collect yourselfs, and as you open your eyes, you see him admiring you with a twinkle in his eyes.

"God, I missed you, princess."

A/N: Y'all, this is my first smut (we don't count the One Direction smut from 2011) so please let me know if y'all like this! I will try to write more if you do ❤️

#hugh jackman daddy #my husband #hugh jackman smut #hugh #hugh jackman x reader #hugh jackman #deadpool and wolverine #wolverine #hes literally 35 years older than me #older men do it better

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mikeyhyy · 1 month

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After 30 years... (Ford × Male reader)part 1

This is Ford × Male Reader, this story takes place in the year the series takes place. The reader and Ford had a relationship, but it ended because of Bill (I can write a story explaining this part if you want). The reader is 50 years old, he was 20 when he met Ford.

I don't write for female readers so don't even try to ask if it's for a female reader.

ATTENTION: Chapter not revised

______________________________________________

How long has it been since you last seen Ford? 30 years? He just disappeared after the breakup and you don't know where he was, when you broke up it was a very strange breakup because Ford had a different voice and different colored eyes when he simply said he wanted to break up with you, but then they called you a few days ago and who had a female voice that sounded extremely excited and she said that Ford wanted to see you, but it sounded like a voice that was too young to be his wife or something. Now you are in front of the door of the 'Mystery Shack' is that the new name they gave it? Do you remember that Ford never commercialized his discoveries because that was not what he wanted.

You are currently in your fifties and you really are in the best state because you were only twenty when you dated Ford, you were young and naive and he scientist who lived in the isolated cabin in the forest. You actually found the whole mystery very attractive and he found you very attractive too so it came to that.

You only heard from Ford after the break up when you saw a newspaper headline showing him practically drunk in a bar, you realized he was with those same different eyes and decided to stop caring. But that didn't happen and you've been trying to hear from him for the last 30 years.

You squeeze the fabric of his jeans tightly and it feels like a lump has formed in your throat until you wait for a moment until you get the courage, you take a deep breath before finally opening the front door of the store and you enter the store.

Your eyes analyze the store for a moment, you see the absurd prices of strange things that if you have at least two neurons you realize are fake and it doesn't take long so that you heard an excited voice. "Are you the (name)?!" The girl with long brown hair halfway down her back, dressed in a skirt that was a little long to her knees and a very striking sweater, she had a smile on her face which showed her appearance. "Wow, Great uncle Ford was right when he said you're very handsome." The girl speaks again looking very excited, but the boy next to her stares at you even more curiously and he looked like a male version of her, but quieter and he had shorter hair, wore an orange t-shirt, dark blue vest, shorts up to the knee and a cap with a blue brim and blue sides with a blue pine tree.

"Yes, I'm (name)…" You say and put your hands in your pants pockets so as not to show that you're a little nervous, the girl asks you a billion questions and then you see the snack machine moving out of place and being pushed as if it were a door. The one who leaves there is the man who, even though he broke up with you years ago, never left your heart because he was your first love and you were the first love of his life and this is obvious because he drops whatever was in his heart. his hand the moment he sees you.

He looks at you from top to bottom, you've aged very well from his perspective, in fact from a general perspective, you still have a well-built body and your skin hasn't lost much collagen as it is normal for your age and you look so good.

But you can't help but look passionately at Ford, he doesn't look bad either and the gray hair makes him even more attractive in your opinion and he seemed to be in great condition physical. He has become even more handsome, it seems that time has only been good for him.

"(Name)…" Ford's voice sounds almost inaudible, he is so surprised, he runs his hand through his own gray hair with a slightly trembling hand and he can’t seem to believe you’re standing right in front of him after so many years. You look great, his heart beats fast when he looks at you and he can see in your eyes the man he has loved for years even if he has tried his best to forget you in the last few years in which he has passed through different dimensions.

Silence goes on for a few minutes before finally being cut off by the girl in the sweater. "So, it looks like you guys have a lot to talk about and the best way to talk alone is maybe to go out there or whatever older people do when they want a moment alone." She says and looks more thoughtful at the end as she scratches her own chin with a thoughtful expression.

Ford's cheeks get a little red and he motions for you to follow him to the basement because it's no secret to you what's there Inside, you follow him and when you enter he closes the 'door' and you go down the stairs to the bottom. As you go down you see those same screens, buttons and machines so you know that Ford is still the same Ford that you met years ago and won your heart.

(Continues in part 2…)

______________________________________________

I hope you liked it, my creativity ran out at the end and I decided to post a part two for their conversation.

#gravity falls #ford pines #x male reader #stanford pines #ford pines x reader

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rougepearl · 3 months

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Osamu Dazai X Reader (Smut) || Shibari Play

(Oneshot) Originally from my ao3 account

____________________

You were already tied up. Not a single limb of your body was free from the red ropes that were holding and hugging your skin.

“You look so cute you know that right” Dazai was making a remark about how you currently looked right now

“Oh cmon…” You tried to move around but Dazai put his hand on your body to keep you from squirming around in the mattress

“Uh uh… remember? We had a bet, whoever lost would be the one suffering tonight.”

“I never even agreed to that”

“Hmm.” He put his finger up to his chin “Well youre already like this so why wouldnt we go any further?”

“Dazai!!”

“You know you want it, just look at that face of yours” He laughed at you for a bit. But he wasnt wrong either

Messy hair, teary face, hands and legs tied, Dazai just couldn’t resist himself.

He continued his steps forwards, slowly coming closer to your restricted body. He crawled on the bed towards you, faces inches away from eachother

“I want to hear every noise you noise alright darling?” He instantly placed his fingers in between your legs, rubbing the side of your thighs with his long skinny fingers.

You tried to move but you were restrained by the small yet thick enough ropes.

All you were able to do was really just arch your back or move your head.

You moved around trying to find a comfortable position to be in, but he stopped you in your tracks.

“Look at you, so needy.” Dazai remarked as his tongue began to lick your skin. Following from your neck going down your stomach to your pussy.

The wetness of his tongue felt unreal, your hot body needed more of him, but you just didnt want to admit it

“Ngh~ Daza-“ “No need to be so formal here, we are alone after all…Just say my name got it darling”

His arms hugged around your body as he flipped you over. Your face was laying on the pillow sideways, and your stomach was on the mattress Dazai had.

You could feel his body lean from behind your back, inching closer and closer to whisper something

“Just follow me and Ill make sure Ill get these nice ropes off of ya’. “

“Mhphm-“ Letting out a muffled moan as he grabbed your hips brining them up. You couldn’t see what was happening but you could hear everything happening behind you.

He was unzipping his pants, and on the side you could see him throwing his coat and tie off. Now you realize why he wore that black coat instead of the usual brown one.

Feeling him line up behind you, he thrust himself into you without any preparations

“Agh! Da- Osamu…”

“I love it when you say my name…” He said as he began to thrust himself into you.

His hands were on the sides of your hips keeping your back arched for him. Hands were restricted behind on your back too, so sometimes he would move his hands up and hold yours for a few seconds.

He slowed his pace down, entering himself slow then fully making sure you could feel every inch of his

“Mmph, Ah~ N- Please.” “Not now darling.”

“Ngh-“

Dazai was purposefully slowing down, trying to make you shiver and shake under him.

Since your upper body was laying down, you moved yourself back and forward. Trying to ride your high on him.

Dazai took notice and grabbed your hair forcing your head to look up at him.

He looked at you for a couple of seconds, smiling to himself, then opening his mouth.

“I see you need it so clearly, so Ill give it you. But only because youre in these..” His hands went to the main rope that determined whether they’d be tight or not, he pulled it and made the ropes hug your skin more.

Now being more restricted, he goes back behind you and puts in all his strength he has into you.

The pain is unbearably strong, but it’s not like you can do anything. Even if you were to try something, Dazai would only make your punishment way worse

You feel his full length slipping in and out of you in continuous motions. It hurts but you also feel the pleasure overwhelming.

“Cmon~ Mhmm…” He whimpers a bit as you tighten around him. He still goes fast, but eventually he becomes more sloppy in his work.

He stops for a bit keeping himself in you “Be a good girl and yell out my name… got it?”

You nod your head in response, and he goes back to going in and out of you. But he makes sure he slaps against you roughly, as he grabs your head with his hand whilst the other remains on your shoulder, only pushing yourself further onto him with every hard thrust he gives into you.

“Mhm- Dazai, Please. Ah~ Agh!~”

“Keep- G-going…”

“Please, I-I need to~ Agh Osamu~ Ngh-“

You feel his warmth leaking inside of you, and it causes you to release your high as well. He stands still behind you, keeping his dick inside your wet and messed up pussy.

His body gives out and he lays on the bed next to you, with the release of you, you plop onto the bed as well.

Your still catching your breath, looking down in embarrassment. You can see Dazai looking at your naked body still. “Cant you take these off now?” You yell at him

He brings his hand up to brush away the hair of your face, then keeping his hand on your left cheek.

“In a little bit, you just look sooo cute!!”

#dazai x reader smut #bungou stray dogs #bsd #shibari #rope tying #bsd dazai #dazai osamu #bungou stray dogs dazai #dazai x reader #bsd smut #suggestive #teasing

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friedbaekhyunandeggso · 3 months

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found you - ch. 5 (part IV)

pairing: gojo satoru x female oc (ara natsuna)

tropes: psycho! rival! athlete! yandere! gojo x introvert! booksmart! sheltered! rbf! oc

warnings: 18+ only babes, stalking/possessive themes, profanity, coercion, pet names (kitten, baby), titjob, praising, unprotected & protected sex, dub/non consented sex, overstimulation, mentions of abusive parents, suicidal ideation, squirting & basically lots of smut

word count/plot: [19.5k!] ara catches gojo's attention when news breaks that she is the top academically ranked student in their grade. he is ranked second. he tries to befriend her but she ignores him. despite her obvious disinterest, his obsession begins...

ch. 1 , ch. 2 [ part 1 | part 2 ] , ch. 3 , ch. 4 , chapter 5 [ part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 ]

She shoved him back, breaking the kiss. He lay on the bed, panting.

He sat up, reaching for her, “Ara—“

“Wait,” she stepped back, tugging down her mini dress, “Just wait.”

His blue eyes looked her up and down, “Why~” he whined.

She stepped in between his legs, cupping his chin, “Because I have something for you.”

Excitement bloomed in his crystalline eyes as he stared up at her. His hands squeezed the back of her thighs.

“Yeah?” his voice was low—hungry.

Her long fingernails dragged through his white hair, up his nape to the crown of his head. His eyes never left hers until he leaned forward, opening his mouth to bite at her tits in his face.

Her hands in his hair tugged his head back a second before his lips made contact. A low groan left him.

She kissed the tip of his nose, “wait for me.”

The words went straight to his cock. The look in her eyes didn’t help either, he didn’t want to wait. He wanted her now.

She slipped away from him, making him ache with each step she took away from him.

Fuck. He stared at her hips as she walked towards the closet. Her hair swaying with each clop of her heels. Her legs looked so damn sexy. fuck, fuck, fuck.

She has something for me?

A grin split across his lips as he flung himself back on the bed. He reached down, squeezing his cock through his jeans. He groaned through his teeth.

What you have for me, kitten?

The thought made his cock twist in his pants. It was too cramped in there, the zipper was working overtime. She was taking too long. He needed her.

He closed his eyes, sifting through ideas of what she could possibly have for him. A gift, hm? He could only wonder what she got. She knew everything he liked, from sweets to his favorite shows and movies—she knew everything.

The thought shouldn’t have made him as happy as it did.

His cock throbbed and he hissed.

Fuck baby, I don’t need anything. I just need you—just you.

He reached into his pants, adjusting his cock at a more comfortable angle. He needed to at least appear tame for whatever she had to give him. knowing her it was bound to be something unique and meaningful, maybe even sentimental. whatever it was he’d cherish it. he’d keep it forever.

When he told her that he didn’t want anything from her he meant it-but if she got something with just him in my mind.. Who was he to deny her?

He smiled to himself, thinking of her wandering store to store trying to find something for him. He hadn’t checked her bank statements recently either so it truly would be a surprise.

He sat up, running a hand through his hair. His mind racing with curiosity.

Suddenly the closet door opened and he immediately perked up. Her voice came from behind the closet door.

“so… it was kinda hard for me to get a gift for someone who has everything. It really forces you to think outside of the box..”

He smiled slightly.

“.. so I thought really hard and I still came up with nothing. but then I realized, you always say I’m the best thing that ever happened to you-“

“You are.”

“-so here I am.”

She stepped out from behind the door and he gaped.

She wore the sexiest, laciest baby pink lingerie he’d ever seen in his life. The bra was basically see through, barely cupping her luscious tits. The matching thong was made with the thinnest straps, just the sight of it made him pant. and the garter belt attached to her lace-rimmed thigh high stockings…

He was gonna tear her up.

He stood up and she raised her chin, “Sit down.”

He froze, he’d never heard her voice like this. a grin split across his lips as he sat down. He licked his lips as he watched her step closer. The clip clop of her heels too slow compared to his heartbeat.

He naturally man-spread when he sat so when she stood before him, she stood between his long legs. Her skin sparkled up-close.

He reached for her and she swat his hands away.

“Don’t touch me.”

He groaned, “Ara you look so fucking sexy. I’m gonna lose my shit-“

“Then don’t. If you touch me I’ll stop.”

He raised a brow only to freeze when she bent low in front of him. the sight of her tits hanging, squeezed together in that sheer bra as she got on her knees, he nearly came right there.

She stared up at him from between his legs. her heartbeat thumped rapidly in her ears when she saw the look in his eyes. his mouth was slightly open and his eyes—he looked like he wanted to demolish her.

She placed a hand on his thigh to balance herself and his abs immediately tightened. She slowly reached for the zipper of his pants, popping open the one button first. She then flicked at his zipper.

She felt the muscle under her hand on his leg stiffen, “Fuck you’re such a tease.”

She looked up to see his shoulders flexed, veins visible along his arms as his hands fisted the sheets. He was flushed, his jaw clenched. the thin necklace with their promise ring hanging from his neck as he sat slightly hunched—staring down at her.

“Don’t rush me.” her voice inadvertently coming out a whisper.

His eyes were fixed on hers, “I can’t wait to fuck you.”

“You don’t want me to suck you off first?”

“i do.” he answered straight away, subtly shaking his head, “i do. i do. i do.”

She’d never given him a blowjob before, no matter how badly he wanted it or how often he asked. He never forced her to though—which she appreciated more than he knew.

He simply stopped asking for it, especially after she told him she found the concept of it nasty. putting the same cock that would be inside her pussy in her mouth? it just felt wrong. even the thought of it made her gag. He'd even seen her nearly gag while explaining it.

There was no way someone as big as him could fit in her mouth either. She was sure to gag for real if that happened.

And yet, here she was…

“Please.” he begged.

“please, please, please.” he sounded so desperate.

She stared at the bulge in his pants before looking up at him. She didn’t break eye contact as she shifted closer to him, her hand slowly lowering his zipper. She swore she could hear his teeth grinding.

His cock bulged out, pressing impatiently against his Calvin Klein boxers. even the outline of it looked angry. she heard a low choked breath leave his lips.

She glanced up again and nearly stopped breathing. He looked so big over her like this. All of his upper body muscles visible to her since he was shirtless. He could easily grab her and do as he pleased, she knew he was more than capable of it-but to think he was attempting to exercise his patience just for her. She knew she was playing with fire.

but she couldn’t help it.

His mouth partially opened when she slipped her index and middle finger into the rim of his boxers—dragging her long fake nails along his navel, from one v-line to the other. Toying with the elastic band of his boxers.

He groaned, shifting his hips towards her, “Ara, please. please, I need you.”

“I know.” she finally lowered his boxers, letting his cock flip out. It protruded towards her, fully erect and veiny. The light pink head swollen and stiff. She saw a small bead of clear pre-cum at the tip.

It looked so big and daunting in front of her like this. His cock looked longer than the length of her face.

She heard him let out a sigh of relief.

His cock twitched when she leaned towards it, it was just millimeters away from her lips. She met his gaze when she opened her mouth and exhaled over the tip, letting her warm breath cascade down his cockhead.

He whimpered, his cock twitching once more. She saw the bead of pre-cum dribble out slightly and trickle down the side of his cockhead.

“Ara..” he groaned, shifting his hips so that his cock nearly touched her lips.

She leaned away, her hand on his thigh pushing him back.

Her eyes fluttered back up to his, “Don’t move.”

He was panting. A bead of sweat dripped down his brow before he threw his head back and groaned. His hands fisting the sheets so hard, the bed was nearly disarrayed.

He faced her again, his gaze desperate, “I can’t hold back-“

“You have to.”

“I’m about to fucking cum and you haven’t even touched me yet.” his voice was ragged.

“Don’t cum.”

“Touch me, Ara. please fucking touch me.” he begged.

She reached over and unclasped her bra, letting it fall to the floor. She held her tits up from the sides before leaning over and slotting his cock between them.

She immediately felt his cock twitch between her tits. His cock was so hot.

“ha—ah.” he groaned, tossing his head back as she began to slide her tits up and down his cock. Her tits were so warm, so soft and plushy. fuckkk.

He glanced down at her, at her pretty eyes staring up at him. His cockhead peeked out from the top of her tits as she held them together with her hands, squeezing his cock just right between her breasts. The friction felt so good after being abandoned for so long.

He watched his pre-cum dribble out onto her tits. fuck, he wanted to feel her soft tits in his hands. tease those sexy little nipples and fuck those tits at a pace that would make her cry but he had to be patient. he couldn’t touch her.

He groaned through his teeth and she watched him fall back on his elbows. He couldn’t take his eyes off of her.

She felt his hips buck as he tried to fuck her tits back but then his abs tightened as he tried to hold back.

“Fuck, you look so hot kitten. Your tits feel fucking perfect-yes-yes-just like that.” he grit out his last few words.

“Gonna cum all over your pretty face.” he rasped as she continued to bounce her tits up and down his length.

He felt so stiff between her tits, she couldn’t believe he was so hard. The sight of his cockhead disappearing and reappearing within her tits was the weirdest feeling but when she felt his cock throb she knew.

Her eyes widened. She saw his brows furrow in concentration as he sat up, bucking his hips into her to fuck her tits faster. The tip of his cock hitting her sternum.

“Toru—“ she gasped out and-just then, felt his cock pulsate. She didn’t want a mess-

Her mouth wrapped around his cockhead, her tongue running circles around his tip as cock throbbed between her tits—letting load after load of thick, hot cum in her mouth.

Her eyes squeezed shut, suddenly recognizing the flavor. He’d made her taste his cum a few times before but she must’ve been too out of it to realize what it was. The thought made her shiver.

“ah, ha-aah-“ he groaned sensitively, his cock continuing to jerk between her warm tits as he spurt endlessly in her mouth. Her mouth felt so hot and wet—her little tongue running along the slit of his tip. Fuckkk

She looked so sexy, her pouty lips wrapped around his cockhead-sucking him just right-with the rest of his length stuffed between those big perky tits. He would frame the sight if he could.

She backed away from him, letting his tip slip out of her mouth with a satisfying pop and-regrettably-making his cock slide out of her soft warm breasts as well.

He saw her cheeks were blown up, filled with his cum. Her gaze distraught and he knew she was about to spit it out—

He grabbed her throat, forcing her eyes on him.

“Swallow.”

Her eyes widened.

“Swallow.”

Her eyes watered as she complied. He felt her neck bob against his palm as she swallowed.

She immediately opened her mouth, gasping as she tried to breathe after swallowing such a thing. A bead of cum managed to slip out onto the corner of her lip and he immediately caught it with his thumb.

He smeared it across her lower lip, “Good girl.”

He suddenly gripped her hair, forcing her to look up at him. His erect cock barely an inch away from her face.

“Who taught you that?” he demanded.

“M-millie.” she stuttered out, breathless.

“Millie?” he let out a short, astonished laugh.

He watched her hand come up to the center of her chest, rubbing the spot of her sternum that his cock head had been hitting moments ago when he’d fucked those plump tits of hers.

“Millie’s tryna have your pussy sore for a week, huh.”

“You already do that.” she replied weakly.

His teeth ran over his bottom lip, “Ara..”

She lay on her side, his chest all up against her back. His hand held her thigh up as she felt his warm breath travel down her neck.

She jolted when she felt his cock poke at her cunt.

"Wait-“ she reached towards the nightstand for condoms only for his other arm to wrap around her shoulders and shove her back against him.

“No.” his lips brushed against her ear. “Not today.”

She attempted to close her legs, but his hand under her thigh resisted—keeping her cunt wide open. The tip of cock slipped inside her warmth, making her gasp.

“It’s my birthday.”

Her hands pushed at his arm around her shoulders, “Toru, no—no!” she attempted to wriggle her hips away from him as he pushed more of his cock inside.

“I’ll get you a plan b tomorrow.”

He’d been doing that a lot recently-escaping wearing a condom by buying her a plan b the next day. He'd told her he respected her decision of not wanting to take birth control because her fear of the side effects and yet-by acting like this-he was putting them both at risk.

She struggled in his grasp, her eyes squeezing shut as he forced more of himself inside. His cock opening up her warm depths the deeper he went.

“Stop it, Toru. stop it!”

“sh, sh, sh,” he kissed her cheekbone, his grip on her shaky thigh tightening as he opened her legs wider. “It’s gonna be fine, kitten. Don’t worry.”

He sent one hard, deep thrust to her cunt—making her whine.

He stared at her distressed expression from above her shoulder before slowly grinding his cock into her, watching her expression unravel as she whimpered.

“Just for today.” he murmured into her ear.

He buried his face into her shoulder, sending another harsh thrust to her cunt. She cried out, her nails scratching at his arm around her shoulders as he began to fuck her hard.

“Jus let me have this today.”

fwop. fwop. fwop. fwop.

She felt it—him fucking his cum back into her. it was too much. he just came and hadn’t pulled out, hadn’t stopped.

“Toru, stop—stop. pull out-please—“ she begged.

His hand fisting her hair yanked her head back. His fingers dug into her hip as he bent over her, lips at her ear.

“Why should i?”

fwop. fwop. fwop. fwop.

“You feel so fucking good kitten.” he rasped.

“nghhh.” she felt his cum trickle down the inside of her thighs. His balls slapping her cunt with each rough fuck.

He pushed her back down, his hand still in her hair as he continued to bully her pussy with his cock. Her pussy was so hot and tight. He didn’t want to take his cock out that warmth even for a second.

“Your cunt’s made for me.”

His hand on her hip slid to her ass, delivering one firm slap to her ass cheek. She cried out as her cunt tightened around him.

“Oh? You like that, kitten?”

He slapped her ass once more. He swore her cunt got wetter.

“s-stop!”

“Your cunt is wrapping around me so tight, you sure want me too?”

She tried to turn but his hand in her hair prevented her.

“Hurts.” she gasped out, her ass cheek throbbing where he hit it.

fwop. fwop. fwop.

She moaned, his cock fucking into her ferociously. She gripped the sheets, her thighs trembling.

“You close kitten?”

His voice felt distant to her ears as she gasped. Her body couldn’t take the feeling of all of this. His cock pounding into her, his hand gripping her hair, his hand running down the back of her thigh-collecting his escaped cum on his fingers and smearing it over her skin. It felt like too much.

Suddenly he smacked her ass once more, sending her over the edge. She moaned.

Her moan was music to his ears. He watched her back sexily arch as her thighs trembled oh so badly. He let go of her hair to let her fall forward.

He grabbed her hips, letting his fingers dig deep into her soft skin as he pounded into her relentlessly. He wanted to feel every twitch and squeeze of her pretty little cunt as she came.

He groaned as he felt her cunt writhe around him, her insides wounding around him so tight—it felt like her pussy walls were dying to milk him dry.

He glanced down to see her pussy juices squirt out despite him still being inside—still fucking her. He watched his cum spill out the sides of her cunt as well, mixed in with her yummy pussy juices. the sight was intoxicating.

She was so creamy and wet inside that a delicious sound followed when he continued to fuck her out.

He knew he should stop, let his cum from earlier at least leave her but he didn’t want to. She was mewling so cutely, shaking her hips as she attempted to pull herself off him.

He yanked her back down by the hips. She cried out.

He leaned over her, slipping his hands around her tits as he spoke into the crook of her neck.

“I’m not done yet, kitten.”

“nghhh—toru, please. please!”

fwop. fwop. fwop. fwop.

Her hands were on his chest as her body bounced on top of him. His cock thrusted into her from underneath.

He stared up at her intently as he held her waist. He was breathless-watching her tits bounce with each fuck was an addicting sight.

She was barely able to sit upright on top of him. mascara stains trailed down her cheeks and her pouty lips were reddened and raw from his kisses. god, she’s never looked sexier.

“toruu!” she whined.

He sent another thrust up into her core, “I’m here baby.”

She lifted her hands, pushing her long hair back before resting her hands on his chest again—trying to keep her balance despite barely being able to string one thought together.

She looked down at him. his eyes were so bright, so lustful and hungry. he was truly so wanton for her, it was incomprehensible.

His hands on her waist controlled her, moving her up and down on his cock as he pleased. it felt so good, she couldn’t stop him. his cock head was hitting all the right places.

“You’re so fucking beautiful, Ara. you know that?” he hissed out, “beautiful.”

She glanced over to see he was looking at her tits, which were flying upwards with each push of his cock. She self-consciously covered them with her hands.

He immediately reached over, shoving her hands back.

“Don’t hide them from me.”

He grabbed her tits in each of his hands, squeezing them eagerly. her tits were big enough that they filled the entirety of his large hands. She moaned.

He could never get over the feel of her in his hands. it always filled him with a heady sensation when he thought of how he was the only one who got to feel her like this—see her like this. to think she’d even let him fuck these perfect tits of hers willingly earlier.

He pumped his cock into her faster. She moaned, throwing her head back. Her perfect neck and tits protruding out just for him.

His eyes ran over the several hickeys along her decolletage. mmm, it only made him want to give her more.

He leaned up, sliding one hand down to her waist before latching his lips to her unattended tit. sucking her nipple like his life depended on it. his tongue circling the perfect hard little nub.

“nghhh!! ugh—nghh!”

Her fingers slipped in his hair as his cock continued to fuck her gummy pussy. His groin was so wet from her juices but he wouldn’t have it any other way.

She was all he ever wanted.

Geto walked with millie upstairs. it was around 7 am. The estate was a mess. Most people had gone home or were passed out sleeping somewhere but Gojo hadn’t been seen for the past few hours.

“Are you sure you know where his room his?”

He shot her a look.

She raised her hands, “Sorry. this place is so damn big. I would get lost even if I came here a million times.”

“I’ve probably been here more than a million times.” he muttered.

Just as they walked towards Gojo’s bedroom door, they both froze. Millie and Geto looked at each other.

The squelching sounds of fucking was audible through the door, alongside Ara’s sweet needy moans.

Millie’s eyes immediately widened before she ran towards their bedroom and pressed her ear to the door.

All she heard was more squelching noises and the sound of low masculine murmurs-Gojo-as he talked her through it. Ara moaned once more.

Geto tugged at Millie’s arm, flushed. “Lets go.”

“No wait-“ she pressed her ear to the door again, “I’m tryna hear what he’s saying.”

His face screwed up, “Why?”

“Cuz-“ another feminine moan left Ara—this time more drawn out, more whimpery.

Millie’s eyes widened, “Holy shit, she sounds so hot.”

Geto closed his eyes, shaking his head. This time grabbing her elbow and tugging her.

“Lets go.”

She was laughing airily, “I did not know she could sound like that, oh my god.”

He made a face and Millie lightly punched his chest, “Oh come on. her moans were hot, you can admit it.”

He continued to walk her down the stairs, “That’s my boy’s girl. I’m not saying shit, that’s weird.”

She rolled her eyes, “Whatever. I’m just glad the plan worked.”

He glanced over to see a smile on her lips, “The plan?”

She smirked up at him, “Let’s just say Ara didn’t know what to get him for his birthday and I had an idea. She hated the idea at first but she knew he would like it. any boy would.”

He grimaced, “What did you corrupt her with now?”

“i didn’t corrupt her. technically that was all your best friends doing,” she shrugged, “but she looks happier now though so I’m just happy for her.”

“Is she happier?” Geto asked.

She raised a brow, “Yeah. why?”

“I dunno. She’s kinda hard to read,” he admitted, “I’m just surprised her Dad hasn’t contacted her yet.”

“She told you about that?” Millie asked, astonished.

He shook his head, “No, Gojo did.”

“Yeah no. Her dad hasn’t contacted her. She hasn’t called him either.”

“She hasn’t?”

Millie shook her head, “She hates him.”

Millie watched the corner of his lips dip into a subtle frown.

“What is it?” she asked.

“Oh-nothing.”

“Tell me.” she insisted.

He ran a hand through his hair, “It’s just a tough situation, isn’t it?”

She sighed, “It is but… at least she has Gojo.”

Gojo hopped into the kitchen a little after 1 pm.

“Marinn~” he was singing until he froze and glanced around, “Oh? y’all are still here.”

Haibara, Toji, Nanami and Geto sat around the island counter. Marin stood on the other side, sliding Toji another plate of food since he’d requested it.

Toji gave him a once-over. Gojo’s hair was rumpled and a few hickeys were visible along the neckline of white T-shirt.

Toji sipped at his coffee, “You had a night.”

“Probably the best night of my life.” he grinned before sliding onto one of the stools along the island, beside them. Toji whistled.

Gojo asked, “What about you guys?”

“Last night was insane.” Haibara croaked out, voice dry from all the singing he’d done, “I did not expect Travis Scott to show up. What the hell?”

Gojo laughed, “I didn’t either but it was open invite for A-listers so-“ he shrugged, “Here we are.”

“He was so chill.” Haibara went on.

Gojo suddenly snapped his fingers, as if belatedly remembering, ��Marin.”

Marin’s head snapped up, “Yes, I’m making you a plate.”

“Can you make one for Ara as well? Make her a green tea too.”

“Yes.”

“Let me know when you're done, I wanna bring it up to her."

“Yes sir.”

He glanced around at the other boys, “I didn’t check the house but did security sweep the place yet?”

“Yeah, they did this morning. around 10 am.” Nanami grumbled out a second before Marin could answer. “I hope you don’t mind that Shoko and I stayed in one of your guest rooms.”

“Your’re kidding right?” Gojo grinned, “I’d never mind nanamin~”

“Is Shoko still here?” Geto asked.

“Nah,” he rubbed his brow, “We got into a fight this morning so she left early.”

“Damn.” Toji muttered.

“Did something happen?” Haibara inquired.

“Just some stuff. I don’t want to talk about it.”

Haibara nodded, a subtle pout on his lips.

Gojo reached out, patting Nanami’s shoulder, “You’ll get through it. I believe in y—“

Nanami shrugged his hand off, “Easy for you to say. You just had the best night of your life.” he mocked.

Toji suddenly leaned towards Gojo, “Yeah, so what the hell happened? Ara keep you busy?”

“Very,” he grinned, his teeth subconsciously running over his bottom lip as the memories flooded his mind.

“Look at this guy.” Toji smirked, before grasping Geto’s shoulder and shaking it. Geto shrugged him off.

“Did she give you a gift?” Haibara asked innocently.

Gojo’s eyes sparkled with mischief, “She was the gift.”

Toji and haibara started hooting and hollering while Geto and Nanami shook their heads.

The sound of the waves washing over the sand felt like therapy without therapy. It was lovely.

Gojo had taken her here on a whim—all because she’d said she’s never seen the beach at night. it was literally sunday. they had school in six hours and he didn’t care. He insisted that she had to see it and here they were.

And he was right. this was beautiful.

She gazed out at the moon reflected in the water. the water appeared black due to the night sky and yet, nothing about it seemed ominous. instead it felt like she belonged here.

The light passing breeze made her waist length hair ripple past her shoulders. She tugged her shrug closer around herself before glancing over to see Gojo wasn’t beside her.

She stopped walking and turned around.

He was a little ways away behind her, following her. His hands in his pockets. The second he spotted her looking, he smiled.

His arm slipped around her shoulders, easily catching up, “What do you think?”

He kissed her temple as she responded, “It’s so nice.”

He grinned slightly, “Right? let’s sit.”

They sat down on the sand. The water rushing along the beachside only a few feet away. Ara stared out at the palm trees swaying in the distance.

He rubbed her back, “I knew you’d like it.”

She drew her knees up to her chest, “There’s no one here.”

“We got lucky.”

According to him, this was a rather popular beach. It was beautiful so she could see why.

“I like.. how it smells.” she felt ridiculous saying it but it was true. somehow the beach smelled calming, reassuring in a silent way.

He kissed her shoulder, “i like how you smell.”

She squinted at him.

He smirked back at her. His eyes dropping to her lips before returning back to her eyes.

“Can i ask you something?”

She nodded.

“Where is your mom?”

She froze, not expecting that question in the slightest.

“I don’t know.” she answered.

“Really?” he tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear.

“Last i heard she was in Turkey. She has family all over the world so she’s always traveling to see them.”

“When’s the last time you saw her?”

She paused, “Three years ago. She.. used to call but not so much anymore.”

“Does she work?”

“No. Grandpa just sends her money.”

“Are you close with your grandparents?”

She shook her head, “I only spoke to grandpa once on the phone.”

“hm,” he waited a beat before asking, “Are your parents divorced?”

“Ao but they might as well be. She doesn’t call me so i know she doesn’t call him.”

Gojo assessed her silently, watching a frown appear on her lips. A million thoughts running behind her pretty eyes.

“Did she leave because of your Dad?”

“Well at first she left because her cousin passed away so she had to go to his funeral but then when Dad kept calling her and asking when she’d be back she started coming up with more excuses, prolonging her stay and stuff. There’d be times where we didn’t hear from her for months. Dad would get real mad but then she called a while back saying that she plans on staying with Grandpa cuz he’s ill now and there’s no one else to take care of him.”

She sighed, “I don’t know if that’s true or just another excuse but.. I know Dad hates her now. He hates me too. He hates me cuz I look just like her.”

His eyes widened slightly.

She looked down, making shapes in the sand between them, “everytime he looks at me I remind him of her. He said it.”

“He said it?”

“Yeah. He said he would throw acid on my face if he could–said her face doesn’t deserve to exist-”

He caught her wrist, his jaw clenched before he caught a glimpse of her face. Her eyes were filled with tears.

He hated her father’s words. He hated them so much he honestly wanted to drive to his house and rip out his tongue with his bare hands. He wanted to watch the blood pool out of his mouth and then stuff his tongue so far back down his throat til he choked on it. It would be easy-so easy that it wouldn’t bother him at all.

What bothered him was the flat tone she used while saying these things–as if it were a fact that she believed. It made him unreasonably angry to think she could believe anything that came out of that useless man’s mouth.

“He sounds jealous to me-sounds jealous as shit that he isn’t as pretty as you and your mother.”

She snatched her wrist out of his grip, “Is that all that matters?”

“No, no,” his hands slipped under her shoulders, tugging her towards him to lift her onto his lap. Before she could resist, his arm wound itself tight around her back and his free hand caught her chin. He tilted her face up to meet his gaze.

His blue eyes searched her face, the pads of his fingertips gently wiping the tears on her cheeks. “I’m sorry,” he murmured, “I just didn’t want you to be sad.”

She exhaled through her nose, a faint smile on her lips, “Too late.”

Her eyes fluttered closed, taking in the familiar scent of cologne and the sounds of the waves crashing along the beach. She felt his lips against her forehead and shivered.

His body felt so warm and strong, cradling her like this–his arms gave her a sense of safety that she never felt before him. It should’ve been reassuring but all she could think about is where it all went wrong.

She opened her eyes, staring at his adam's apple before her before slowly raising her eyes–taking in his defined jawline, the smooth planes of his cheeks, his sharp straight nose, long white lashes. Strands of his thick white hair flipped in the light breeze as he stared ahead.

He looked perfect and he didn’t even have to try. And here she was, barely able to stay afloat. What a lovely couple they made.

“Sometimes I wish I was never born.”

His eyes immediately snapped towards her, “Don’t say that.”

She attempted to get out of his arms but his hold suddenly tightened. His forehead pressed against hers, “Don’t ever say that again.” He poked her nose, “You're the best thing that’s ever happened to me, remember? I don’t wanna think about a world without you.”

“You’d live.”

He shook his head, “I wouldn’t.”

“You would.”

He shook his head more vigorously, “I wouldn’t.”

She stayed silent for a moment, holding his gaze–letting the sound of the angry waves crashing against the rocks speak for them. When his gaze didn’t falter, she sighed–giving up. She lay her head in the crook of his neck, letting her hand rest on his chest.

They both stared out at the view until he broke the silence, “Your Mom had you when she was 25 right?”

Her brows furrowed slightly, “Yeah, how did you know that?”

He glanced down at her, poking her stomach, “You told me, remember? You told me you didn’t wanna have kids til you were 25 just like her.”

Her eyes widened as she remembered. That conversation felt so long ago. She’d been so scared then, saying anything that she thought could help her situation.

His hand slipped into the curve of her waist, his thumb caressing her stomach.

“How many kids do you want?”

She felt her face get hot, “Seriously-”

“Tell me. I wanna know.”

“let me guess, you want a million.”

His arms tightened around her, “i do. i want as many as you want.”

“i wanna fill up our home,” he went on, “jus imagine them running all over the estate, little me’s and you’s.”

Her eyes widened.

“-We’d keep Marin busy, have her babysit them all.”

“Them all?”

“Yeah, she used to babysit me—”

“That’s not what I meant.” she sat up in his lap, “What if I don’t want kids?”

His eyes snapped to hers before slowly searching her face, “Why?” he asked, gently.

She was quiet. A million thoughts running through her mind.

She tried to slip out of his lap but he tugged her back down. His forehead pressing against hers once-more.

“You don’t think you're gonna be a good mama?” the tip of his nose nudged hers as she avoided eye contact, “Hm?”

She turned her head away and he nipped at her jaw, “Tell me.”

She shoved him back, “How can you expect any of us to be good parents, toru? We literally have been raised by the worst people ever. You with a manipulative uncle and me with an abusive Dad. How are we gonna raise little kids with love when we don’t even know what that’s like?”

“We have our love.”

She stared at him.

“We’ll show our kids what love is by loving each other right,” he spoke rather calmly, “We don’t have to treat our kids the way our parents treated us. We never have to do that. If we get lost and confused, we have each other to rely on. Don’t we?”

She swallowed, her fingers inadvertently hooking around his necklace with their promise ring.

She rested her hand flat on his chest, tucking her head into his shoulder, “I don’t want to talk about this anymore.” she murmured.

His hand ran down her side, lightly squeezing her waist. “Why, kitten?”

“the idea of being a Mom scares me.”

“There’s nothing scary about passing on your pretty genes.” he teased lightly.

She rolled her eyes only to freeze when he felt his hand cup her chin to make her look up at him.

There was a faint smile on his lips as he ran his thumb over her bottom lip, “I want our baby to have your lips.”

Her eyes narrowed.

“-want em’ to have your nose-” he nuzzled her.

His hand slipped into her hair, “-and your long long hair-”

Her hand on his chest pushed him back-getting more distance between them, “You don’t wanna pass on any of your features?”

He shook his head, “Nah, I’m pretty but you’re prettier,”

She felt her cheeks flush despite herself.

“-I just wanna be there for the baby-making.”

“I’m nervous.”

He cupped her face, kissing her forehead, “You have nothing to worry about, kitten. You practiced way more than you needed to.”

She looked up at him, “I messed up my parallel park.”

“Yeah, once. Then you did it perfectly ten times in a row after.”

“I still messed up.” she pouted.

“Hey-” he waited until she met his gaze again, “How long have I been driving for?”

It took her a second to remember, “2 years.”

“Yeah and I haven’t gotten a ticket once-”

“-because the cops know you-”

“Because I’m a good driver and you’ve been practicing with me-a good driver-all this time. Why would I set you up to fail?”

She moved his hands off her face and sighed, “Your right, your right.”

She held onto one of his hands with both of hers. She stared down at it for a moment before facing him.

“I’m worried for nothing.” she spoke firmly.

He copied her tone, “You’re worried for nothing.”

“I’m gonna pass.”

“You’re gonna pass.”

She straightened her posture, “I am.”

He smiled.

He watched the car come to a stop in front of him. She jumped out of the driver’s side and ran straight towards him. The second he saw her smile he knew.

She jumped into his arms and he caught her. He was grinning like a madman.

“I passed. I passed. I passed!”

He kissed her head a million times, squeezing her oh so tight. He never wanted to let go.

“Miss, you forgot this.”

They both turned to look at the instructor holding her Birkin. A warm smile on the instructor’s lips.

Ara lightly pushed his shoulder, signaling him to put her down but instead he walked over with one arm under her ass. He reached out to take the Birkin from the instructor.

“Thank you.” Him and Ara said at the same time.

The instructor beamed at them, “You guys are so cute. Y’all remind me of my younger days.”

He smirked at the elderly woman, “I’m happy to help.”

Ara fixed him with a look.

“What?” he looked at her blankly.

Ara watched the instructor’s smile falter before she turned around and walked away.

Ara whispered harshly, “I’m happy to help?!”

“She looks a month away from getting dementia, remembering her younger days is good for her.” he insisted.

She smacked her forehead, “I hate you.”

He merely smiled while walking in the direction of his car.

“How do you wanna celebrate, hm? You hungry–”

She attempted to wriggle out of his hold but he didn’t budge.

“--wanna get food? Or should we go to a car dealership first?”

She froze.

“Gotta get your first car, baby,” he shook her excitedly in his hold before facing her, “I’m so excited that I’m here for this.”

“You want to buy me a car?” she asked, astonished.

“Of course,” he answered simply before grinning, “I’m the best boyfriend ever right?”

her brows furrowed before she hid her face in his neck. she drew her arms tighter around his shoulders as she mumbled, “You ruin it when you say that.”

His grin widened before he kissed her temple, “What’s your dream car?”

“I don’t know.”

“There’s gotta be something.”

“Well.. I guess Teslas look kinda cool.”

“Blegh, you aim too low.”

She glared at him, “Sorry I didn’t immediately thinkFerrari. That’s a little out of my tax bracket so-“

“Ferrari?” his eyes brightened, “You like ferraris?”

“Stop it Toru,” her voice came out muffled against his shirt, “I’m not letting you buy me a car.”

“Which Ferrari model?”

“Stop.”

“What color?”

“Stop.”

Millie walked into her closet. She watched Millie’s mouth immediately drop open.

“Holy shit.”

Ara couldn’t help but feel some sort of deja vu because she remembered when she first entered Millie’s closet, she’d once reacted the same. but now her closet was probably a dozen times bigger than Millie’s.

Ara waved towards the left side, “That’s his side.” then gestured towards the right side, “This is my side.”

Her side was half full compared to his-which was completely stuffed to the brim.

“Let me show you the dresses I was talking about.” Ara muttered before walking deeper into the closet.

Millie eyed Gojo’s sneaker collection, “Goddamn.”

“Here.”

Millie glanced over to see Ara remove a few clothes from where they hung and set them down on the island counter at the closet’s center.

“Oh my god,” Millie ran her hand over the material of the several dresses she’d laid out.

She picked out a label for one of the dresses, “This is Saint Laurent? wow..”

She then picked out the labels for the other dresses, “Valentino, Georgia Armani, Eli saab..”

Ara itched the back of her neck, “Yeah, he pulled some of their archived early 2000s pieces cuz he knew I liked them but..”

Millie sighed, “You are living the dream.”

Ara reddened, “You can borrow whatever dress you want. There’s no way i’m gonna wear all these. I barely go to formal events.”

Millie set her hands down on the counter, “Yes, but this is prom. You gotta go all out.”

“I know, which is why this is stressing me out.”

“Why? You have such nice options.”

“That’s the thing. I literally have all these dresses he already bought and custom fit for me and yet he still wants me to tell him a fashion house that i wanna wear so he could get them to custom make me a dress and his suit.”

“That’s… insane,” Millie gushed, “Which brand are you thinking?”

“I don’t know. I told him I could just wear one of these but-“

“Uh, no! You have the opportunity to get a brand new dress made completely for you from any high fashion brand? I’m not letting you pass that up.”

She snatched Ara’s phone, “Unlock this and open your pinterest.”

Ara raised a brow before hesitantly doing as told, “Why?”

Once millie saw she’d opened the pinterest app she snatched the phone back, “I’m gonna see your aesthetic and tell you what high fashion house I think you belong in.”

“Thank you so much for wearing my dress, darling. It looks absolutely incredible on you. Give me one more spin?”

Ara smiled slightly before handing off the phone to one of the fashion designer’s assistants. She spun once more for the camera.

“You are a goddess.”

“Please, that's enough.” Ara was flustered enough as is by all the compliments the belgium born, parisian designer Ludovic de Sermon had to offer her since they’d met a few weeks ago. Despite not having known him for long, they got along rather well.

His spontaneous personality fit perfectly with her introvertedness. Something about his creative process with design made her respect him more than he knew.

He’d been awfully patient with her, wanting everything to be absolutely perfect—and here she was, feeling perfect and beyond. and he was terribly upset he wasn’t there to see it.

Unfortunately he had to take a last minute flight back to Paris to check up on his fiancé since he’d gotten hospitalized due to a motorcycle accident. his team was still here, they’d helped her get the dress on.

“It’s never enough!”

She stepped towards the phone to see him on the facetime, his assistant still held up the phone for her.

“Is your fiance really gonna be okay?”

He waved a hand, “Don’t you worry about him. He just has a concussion and a few bruises—god, the damn boy gave me a heart attack. I swear i’m gonna set his motorcycles on fire one of these days.”

Ara laughed.

“Don’t you spend a second worrying about him and enjoy your prom to the fullest, okay? You only get prom once. Don’t forget to send me all the pictures you take!”

“Alright, alright, I will. Thank you so much for everything once again.”

“No, thank you for being such a stunning sweet soul. I’m here for you if you ever need anything love.”

Ara blew him a kiss the same time he did. The call ended just as Gojo abruptly entered the room.

“You ready ki—“ he froze in his steps.

They both took a second to assess each other.

He wore a monochrome black tuxedo. It was fitted entirely too well, emphasizing his lean waist and well built arms. The contrast of his all-black attire against his pale skin, light hair and eyes—was an alluring mix. It didn’t help that his hair was styled back, with a single white strand curling handsomely over his forehead.

He looked like a celebrity ready for the met gala.

And she looked like a finely cut ruby, glimmering with every move.

She wore the most sensually shaped red dress. It was a rather straightforward design, two thin straps with a sweetheart neckline. the dress was a cool shimmery red from top to bottom, except for the silver vines and flowers blooming along her right hip.

She took a step towards him and he felt his heart stop. her floor length dress sparkled addictively under the lights. he couldn’t look away.

(a/n: if anyone if curious here’s how her dress looks like https://pin.it/14Qe2ZSxm )

He’d never seen her hair in an updo like this. it was an elegant, perfectly messy low bun with strands of her hair falling loose along her sparkly nape. a few strands swooped attractively around the sides of her pretty face.

He fell to his knees.

Her eyes widened, “Satoru!”

He placed a hand over his chest, “I can’t breathe.”

Her concerned expression fell, “Seriously.”

He bent over, placing his hands on the ground in a praying stance. A few of the surrounding team members started laughing.

Ara smiled, subtly shaking her head, “Toru get up.”

“I can’t.”

She walked up to him and folded her arms. “C’mon Toru, get up.”

He finally rose from his praying stance to his knees. He stared up at her. She didn’t need to hear him to know what he was thinking.

How’d i get so lucky?

She felt her heartbeat scatter all over the place. It was hard to focus with him looking up at her like this.

She touched his cheek, “Come on, get up. I have something to give you.”

He slowly stood up. He stared down at her for a moment before one of his hands slipped along the side of her neck, his thumb running down her jaw.

“If i could frame you, i would.”

A little shy smile bloomed along her lips before he saw her gaze rest on his mouth. She clutched the lapels of his suit and rose on the tippie toes of her heels to kiss him.

Somewhere in the room, the makeup artist shook her head. She took out the lip combo she used and tossed it in Ara’s clutch.

Gojo sighed into her lips. His hands sliding down her sides before coming to rest on her ass. He gave her ass a squeeze as their tongues clashed against each others. He swore she was a better kisser than him now.

She broke the kiss, her chest slightly rising and falling as she caught her breath.

Her eyes suddenly widened, “Oh no.”

“What?”

She quickly rubbed away the lipstick on his lips with her thumb. She smiled slightly, “Never mind.”

He grinned, “Is that what you had to give me?”

“No. it was this.” she held up a bedazzling silver flower brooch that matched the design of the flowers on her dress. She pinned it to his lapel, “Ludovic wanted me to give it to you.”

Her hand slid down his chest. The material of his suit felt expensive against her palm.

She didn’t meet his eyes, “You look really handsome.”

He tilted her chin up, a wide smile on his lips, “hm?”

Her eyes narrowed.

“What was that? I couldn’t hear you.”

“You heard me just fine, idiot.”

“Pleaseee. i just wanna hear it one more time. just one more.”

“No.”

“Pleaseeee~”

She grabbed his face, “You look handsome.”

His eyes widened before he beamed. She didn’t miss the faint blush on his cheeks.

His hands fit perfectly in the curves of her waist, “Thank you…for telling me what I know.”

She shoved him back.

Prom was on a yacht. An actual fucking yacht.

It was unreal.

She leaned on the railing, staring out at the sea. The sun was setting and it colored the water waves with a faint pinky orange hue, reflecting the sky.

She felt her hand itch with the sudden urge to paint. The urge surprised her. She hadn’t felt any muse to indulge in her art hobby ever since she moved into Gojo’s estate–or, sorry, their home-something he always aggressively corrected her on.

She turned slightly, staring at her fellow classmates and peers. They’d all gotten decked out–not one person slacking. Everyone had beautiful pieces on, from jewelry to makeup to outfits to grills. It truly felt like her academy’s met gala.

It felt weird to think about how if she wasn’t living with Gojo she would’ve missed this entire experience. One, there was no way on Earth her Dad would’ve let her go to prom 2. She would’ve never been able to pay for the ticket and then the dress, hair, nails, makeup, heels, etc etc. She once thought it bizarre how people could spend thousands of dollars for just one night’s look but-looking at the people around her-she realized what a production these events were for rich people. It was insane.

Even the yacht itself was decked out. Flowers hung from the ceiling, along with dreamy white curtains along the pergola. The weather was perfect, not too hot with a calm breeze flowing through here and there. The music was tasteful and it seemed the small platters the servers were handing out were tasteful as well since her classmates seemed to be chasing after the servers for more.

Another breeze passed, letting the scent of the flowers waft over her once-more. She found herself wondering if she was dreaming.

Suddenly Principal Yaga stepped onto the mini stage. He cleared his throat on the mic to gather everyone’s attention.

“Hello hello hello, graduating class. Who would’ve thought y’all would make it this far.”

A few laughs arose.

“Anyway, I have a few words to say to this class. First things first, you lot of hooligans will definitely be missed-despite how annoying some of you were-”

Ara zoned out. She’d never been that close with the principal but she knew Gojo, Shoko and Geto were. She wasn’t entirely sure why but she supposed he seemed nice enough. He tried to keep a strict hand over the students but-with the type of students this academy got-it was relatively impossible. Let’s just say money fixed a lot of these students' problems.

“And now, I’d like to announce Prom King and Queen.”

A rush of low murmurs could be heard amongst the students.

“You guys all voted and the results have been collected and counted. I have two crowns here, waiting for our class favorites.” he held up the glimmering crowns.

She smiled slightly, she already knew who Prom King was going to be but Prom Queen– she suddenly felt someone elbow her.

She looked over to see Gojo smirking down at her, offering her his elbow to hold, “Are you ready?”

She frowned only to hear Principal Yaga’s voice bellow on the mic, “Our Prom King and Queen are… Gojo Satoru and Ara Natsuna!”

Ara felt the spotlight on them and reddened. She slipped her arm through Gojo’s and let him lead them through the pathway their fellow classmates made. But she couldn’t understand, there was no way these students voted for her. She barely spoke to them-maybe she did while she was drunk at the parties she went to but she was more than aware of how uncharismatic she was.

She peered up at Gojo through narrowed eyes. He definitely rigged it.

As per usual, her boyfriend was eating all the attention up. He grinned from ear to ear as they walked atop the stage towards Principal Yaga. She was too distracted by all the attention to make out the words they exchanged until Principal Yaga reached out to shake her hand.

“Congratulations Queen Ara Natsuna.”

She shook his hand and offered him a small smile before tilting her head down for him to crown her. Gojo beamed as he watched.

“And Congratulations King Satoru Gojo.” she swore there was a bit of a grumble to his tone but Gojo took it with pride. The crowd went wild as he bowed down to get crowned.

“Everybody, let's hear some noise for our Prom King and Queen!”

Suddenly the crowd hollered thrice as loud. She swore she could hear Millie chanting her name and couldn't help but smile. Rose petals were suddenly thrown all over them. She could help but adjust the crown on her head nervously.

She felt Gojo’s arm slip around her waist and looked up at him, “You rigged it didn’t you?”

“What’s there to rig? Everyone knows you're my queen.” a sly grin slipped onto his lips as he added, “my short, pocket-sized princess.”

She glared up at him, “I’m not short.” -knowing full well that he was a whole foot taller than her.

They’d taken a break from dancing to have a snack. Well, she was snacking. Gojo was knocking back entree after entree like he hadn’t eaten in a week. His appetite never failed to surprise her.

She leaned back in her seat, sipping at her mocktail. Technically it was a school function but she was more than sure people brought things to mix in with their drinks–despite everyone having been body searched by a cop upon entrance to the yacht. If there was one thing she learned about rich people, they knew how to bypass a whole lot of shit.

She watched Shoko slip out two mini-bottles of Jack Daniels from her bra. She eyed her friend, Leah, from across the table and they both stood up to walk towards the bathroom.

Millie suddenly slipped into the seat next to her, “Oh my god, I’m out of breath.” She suddenly whipped out a foldable Chinese hand fan and began to fan herself. The color of it matched perfectly with her dress.

Toji reached over and grabbed that from her, “Gimme that.” He began to fan himself.

“Excuse me.” she snatched it back,

Gojo chuckled beside her, “That’s gotta be the ugliest accessory I’ve seen all day. Did you get that from the dollar store?”

“No,” Millie shot back before stating proudly, “This was hand-made and delivered from China.”

“-ordered off of Shein.” Toji added.

“Ugh, ew.” Millie made a face at him, “I would never but I know that’s probably all you can afford.”

Toji narrowed his eyes, “Ha ha.” he responded sarcastically. Ara had only recently discovered that he’d run away from his family too–a wealthy family as well from what she’d heard. She didn’t know who he lived with currently.

“How’d you pay for your ticket?” Millie questioned.

“I did!” Haibara piped up excitedly. “I wanted all of us to be here.”

“You’re so nice, Haibara,” she batted her eyelashes, “but you honestly shouldn’t have.”

Toji merely grinned.

Suddenly Shoko reappeared, sliding back in the seat next to Nanami-who was eating rather diligently. Geto followed behind her, a plate full of food in his hands. He slipped into the seat between Gojo and Shoko.

“Did you get the lobster?” Gojo asked him, “Shit is amazing.”

“I did.”

Shoko reached over and plucked a gyoza off Geto’s plate before popping it into her mouth, “Mmm, that’s good.”

“You want me to get you some?” Nanami offered. He was such a gentleman.

Shoko smiled softly, “Are you gonna get seconds?”

“Probably.”

“Then I’ll just go up with you when you’re done.”

“You sure?”

“I’m sure.”

Gojo was about to chomp into his breadstick before he froze and looked over at Ara. He must’ve overheard Shoko and Nanami’s conversation as well because suddenly he eyed her empty plate and asked, “You want me to get you somethin’ Prom Queen?”

She looked at him through half-lidded eyes, “No thanks.”

He tapped his cheek, silently asking her for a kiss on the cheek. She merely scrunched her nose before undoing the nearest origami rose napkin. She dabbed the napkin along the corner of his lips.

“You got crumbs everywhere.” she muttered.

He merely smirked, “Thank you mommy.”

“Stop.”

She entered the room to find her night bag already in it. Prom was over but the night had just begun.

Normally staying the night on the yacht would be an additional fee for the students since the academy only booked it for the evening-but since it was Gojo’s yacht that wasn’t necessary.

Principal Yaga hadn’t wanted to host prom on Gojo’s yacht at first—especially when Gojo offered to rent it to him for free. He deemed it unprofessional but once Gojo offered him a discounted price aka half the price of what other yacht companies were offering, he couldn’t refuse.

Shoko was throwing an after party and everyone from prom was bound to be in attendance. Shoko promised to use every square inch of the place, from the outdoor bar, beach club, tennis court, deck jacuzzi, movie theater, massage room and sauna. How she planned on doing all that in one night, Ara didn’t know. All Ara knew was that it was time to change for the after party.

The room was nearly half the size of Gojo’s room at the estate but still eye-catching in its design—it was more modern, resplendent, nothing short of luxurious. She was sure they had the best room on the yacht.

She walked towards her overnight bag on the table only to freeze when she saw the breath-taking view through the glass wall.

She ran over to the sliding doors, pushing them open before leaning against the railing and staring out. The sea churned around them, waves dark and beguiling. The reflection of the stars glittered amongst the water. The moon no where in sight.

That same calm that consumed her when she’d first seen the sea at night with Satoru came over her once more. Easing away all her little anxieties from the night.

She would be lying if she said she wasn’t tired. She’d been facing people all day. From the makeup team, to the hair team, to the dress team, then the actual event of prom itself. She’d enjoyed herself but it was nice to have a breather by herself. It was needed.

Even though she knew she wouldn’t be alone for much longer.

As if on cue, she faintly heard the locking mechanism of the door and glanced over her shoulder. Gojo sauntered in the room, tossing his suit jacket on the bed before joining her.

Just as he moved to join her he spotted her phone vibrating on the bed. It seemed to be from an unsaved number. He glanced at Ara, at her slender back as she stared out at the sea.

He picked up the call and held the phone to his ear.

"Hello?" A slightly older feminine voice arose from the other end of the line. She sounded oddly familar..

He remained silent.

"Hello Ara? Ara, it's me. Mum. We haven't talked in a while," she paused, "I called your Dad and he says you haven't been home? Are you okay? Are you safe?"

No wonder she sounded familiar, she sounded like an older version of her.

She seemed hesitant as she asked, "Your graduation is coming up right-" he ended the call.

He stared at the phone in his hand for a moment before unlocking it and going to her call history. He blocked the number and deleted any evidence of the call before tossing the phone back on the bed.

He glanced at Ara once more, at her relaxed position against the railing, at her fetching side profile as she turned to face the breeze. She was happy like this, she was at peace.

His arms slipped around her waist as he bent low to kiss her neck, his lips touching her pulsepoint before resting his chin atop her head. He always thought they fit perfectly together like this, with her small back against his chest-like missing puzzle pieces coming together.

He stared out at the ripples along the dark waters. It was captivating. The view of the beach and buildings in the distance. Little speed boats passed by and the scent of the sea that she’d once mentioned surrounded them.

music drifted from overhead, the after party must’ve started.

“Satoru?” she suddenly asked, breaking the silence.

“hm?” he kissed her head.

She turned around, unraveling from their embrace to face him.

“Why do you love me?”

He was gonna make a joke, but then he saw her eyes. This wasn’t coming from a shallow self-deprecating place or somewhere lighthearted, she truly wanted to know why.

It should’ve been easy, expressing his love towards her was always easy but when asked like this–with so much care and directness. For once he felt afraid of what he would say. He didn’t want to say something that would push her away when he’d finally gotten her this close.

But Geto once told him it wasn’t his honesty that was the issue, it was the way he phrased himself that was.

‘There’s always a nicer way to say things’ his words echoed in his mind.

It wasn’t like what he had to say was mean but–fuck, he was growing nervous under her stare. His thoughts were escaping him. It was hard to focus when she was looking at him like that. Like his words would mean something–make or break something. And it didn’t help that he was keenly aware she hadn’t told him she loved him back yet.

He was overthinking–he knew. Only she could make him overthink like this. She was just so perfect, all he wanted in a human being all rolled up in one girl. It scared him–everything about her scared him whenever he thought about her like this.

I don’t wanna lose you. I can’t lose you.

His gut tightened with an incomprehensible rush and he felt that aching need to touch her again. That tremor in his fingers that was only eased with his hands on her skin, his lips on her body.

He shook his head abruptly, his hands flexing at his sides before he offered her a light smile.

“I don’t think there’s just one reason.”

She tilted her head, her curious eyes raking over his face, “Then tell me.”

“You’re smart, you’re thoughtful,” a slight laugh escaped him as he added, “--and really really sexy.”

“And?”

She took a step towards him and he blurted out, “I can’t sleep without you.”

He saw her gaze darken slightly, stepping back, “Oh so it’s just about the sex.”

“No, no. I mean–I literally can’t sleep without you.. by my side.”

Ara’s brows furrowed as she thought about that. Ever since they got together there wasn’t one night that he hadn’t spent with her. Even when she’d wanted to have a sleepover with Milie he always refused, nagging her enough that she decided it wasn’t worth the argument.

She tilted her chin up, “You did it for two months when we broke up.”

“Not by choice.” He reached out to touch her cheek, slipping a piece of her hair behind her ear as he did so. His hand lingering longer than necessary as he chuckled thinly, “You really taught me patience.”

“You think you’re patient?”

“Eh, it’s a work in progress.” he leaned towards her, “but I’ve gotten better, haven’t I?”

Her eyes narrowed as she looked him up and down, “I don’t know.”

“What do you mean you don’t know?” he whined before taking her hand and pressing it to his cheek. He pouted, “You taught me a lot, y’know.”

She raised a brow, “Like?”

“I feel like..” he glanced away, the faint pink on his cheeks made her eyes widen.

“I finally know what it's like to have someone care about me,” He spoke leisurely, as if saying whatever came to mind, “I like when you fuss over me. When you remind me of things I forgot or tell me what shirts I should burn. I like when you.. touch my hair and ask me how my day is after I come home from practice or when you like a gift so much you forget to yell at me about the price-” she rolled her eyes at that one “-i like when you yap on and on about something artsy that you forget i’m even there. I like when you leave lil sticky notes around the house saying where you are cuz you know i’m gonna ask.”

He smiled to himself as he went on, “I like when you randomly sit on my lap and nap on me when i’m studying–or when you say my name in your sleep.”

“I don’t!”

His smile widened, “You do.”

“You’re definitely lying–”

He caught her chin, “I especially like when you kiss me when you think I’m deep asleep.”

She pulled his hand off her face, completely red. “I don’t.”

He was grinning, “I feel those pecks in my dreams y’know. They make me all fuzzy and warm inside.”

“That’s because you are dreaming.” she mumbled, turning her back to him.

“I love you Ara.” the gentleness of his voice threw her off.

His voice was lower when he added, “I can’t help but love you.”

She stared down at her feet, at her pointy heels. Her arms tightened around herself as she willed herself to not cry. She squeezed her eyes shut.

“I know you feel something too.” His voice was quiet, closer. “I know it.”

“I don’t expect you to tell me–even if I really really want you to.” His voice wavered, “I remember what you said.. about falling for me.. about being afraid to.”

Her eyes flashed opened as she remembered that conversation (end of chapter 2, pt 1). It felt so long ago when she’d tried to hide away from him for one night in the basement–only for him to show up in her living room the next day. She’d been scared shitless. She didn’t know how she managed to make him agree to her boundaries then–even if her boundaries weren’t much. But they were much for someone like him. *

“I don’t blame you,” his voice felt hollow, “after everything you been through, I can’t.”

Her breath hitched when his voice felt closer, “But I’m not your Mom. I’m not your Dad.”

His fingers lightly skimmed her arm, “I’m not going anywhere.”

She felt his breath trail down her nape, she shivered.

His lips barely touched the helix of her ear, “I’m never leaving you.”

She felt him peering down at her from above her. His tall frame hovering as close as it could without touching her. He reached his left arm over her to grasp her right forearm. He turned her around.

She stared up at him, her eyes brimming with tears.

He silently searched her face, his gaze the softest she’d ever seen it.

“You’re not alone anymore.”

Her heart ached. She glanced down but he swiftly grabbed her upper arm, forcing her eyes on him. The speed of the action nearly made her stumble, her hands instinctively laying flat on his chest.

“Do you understand?”

He stared down at her, merely taking her in as she held his gaze–seeming to do the same. It took him more restraint than necessary to resist from closing the little distance between them. She was just so flawless, even with the tears on the verge of spilling from her eyes. Her lips were just too close, too tempting to be left unattended.

His jaw locked when her pretty eyes landed on his lips.

Those damn eyes. He’d known her for so long and yet one look in her eyes could make him feel like he didn’t know her at all. Her gaze was always so murky, so alluring. He could never tell what she was thinking no matter how hard he tried. But he’d be a fool to miss the way she was looking at him now.

She looked like she was on the verge of falling off a cliff, with so much to say yet nothing at all. She looked like she was yearning for something–longing for it so badly she didn't know what to do with herself and yet she was fighting it—warring with herself. Locked in this mental anguish he so badly wanted to understand. If he could dissect each and every one of her thoughts, he would.

She grabbed his shirt in her fists, “I love you.”

He was frozen, not sure if he heard correctly. His brain must be short-circuiting right? Right?

They were kissing, she didn’t know who started it. If it was her or if it was him but this was eager, desperate and theirs. Their lips were molded together, pressing and pushing against each other as if demanding the others attention.

She didn’t know when they stumbled into the room or when she’d decided to abandon her heels but she knew what was gonna happen when she was tossed onto the bed. She stared up at him as he stood before her. He grabbed her legs, spreading them open before tossing off the one remaining heel on her foot.

She caught his gaze and reached her arms out. He immediately bent over her, letting her svelte arms slide around his shoulders as he locked her lips in a feverish kiss. His tongue slipped into her mouth, pushing through her full lips to swallow her whole—Mmm, I need her. I need her. I need her.

Her sweet perfume filled his nostrils as pressed himself closer against her, pushing her further into the bed from the pressure of his kiss. He tugged down the straps of her dress without breaking the kiss. He refused to leave her lips alone even when he yanked her fitted dress down her waist, her hips—

She broke the kiss just as he dragged the dress past her knees. She threw her head back, needing a breath, only to shiver when he began to nip affectionately at her neck. There was a different fervor to him, a different vehemence. She felt his breath hitch when he finally got her dress off past her feet.

She glanced down when she felt his lips leave her clavicle, only to inhale sharply at the sight.

His belt hit the floor as he unzipped himself at the speed of light, impatient to let his cock loose from his boxers. He was hard, fully hard, his cock head pink and swollen. She watched his cock subtly jolt upwards-throbbing-and felt her cunt tighten.

A ripping sound ensued and she glanced up to see him opening the condom he’d just retrieved from his pocket, with his teeth. He tossed the packet somewhere and slipped the condom over his cock with a bated breath. She could see the tension defining his jaw.

Once it was on, he looked back at her. She froze–stricken by the adoration in his eyes. The rampant need, the raging lust and all-consuming love all coalesced in those devastating blue eyes. She’d never felt so coveted in her entire life.

He bent over her, his hand sliding down her thigh as he did so. His forehead nudged hers just as he hooked his finger through her g-string and easily yanked the thin material off-breaking it. Just as she gasped, the tip of his cock touched her warm entrance and she froze.

His cockhead pressed against her warmth, the tip nearly slipping in–dipping in her hot juices but he didn’t move further until they locked eyes.

Her mind went blank.

Her lips were parted, eyes squeezed shut as she felt all of him inside her. She felt so full–the entirety of her body felt like it was completely full of him. She felt him release a deep breath of relief, as if he’d been waiting all his life to consume her like this. His cock throbbed inside her and her cunt coiled around him reactively.

“Ha-aaah.” he groaned into her cheek.

Her nails dug into his back, expecting the worst but instead his hips pressed deep into her–grinding his cock against her deepest parts, making her gasp. Her mind went blank with stars.

He was stretching her so completely, she shivered as she felt it. She felt as if his cockhead was kissing her from the inside when he delivered short, deep thrusts within her cunt–-never letting his cock leave. Her cunt was slick, completely soft with her juices.

This felt different, more personal somehow despite having done this millions of times before. His bated breath cascaded down her neck and his eyes were trained on her face–completely focused on her, memorizing her as if she were the rarest sight he’d fought all his life to see.

She blushed and suddenly his cock pushed deeper inside her, pressing against her most sensitive walls and she whimpered–moaning. Her cunt instantly squeezed around him.

He groaned through his teeth before palming one of her tits in his hand. Her nipple hardened against his hand as he massaged her soft mound. Her pretty sounds making his cock stiffer inside her.

“You love me?” He muttered down at her.

He released her tit to slide his hand down the side of her body, grasping her hip before picking up the pace of his deep, short thrusts–rutting into her faster.

He spoke into her cheek, “I love you more.”

Her nails dug into his shoulders as cried out, “ngh! Toru–toru!”

“More–more–more–more.”

His cock pounded into her relentlessly, her legs tightening around his waist. She swore she felt each fuck in every cell in her body. It was sloppy, intense, and the squelching sounds that followed made her face get entirely too red.

He pulled out, leaving just the tip inside.

“How much?”

She didn’t get the chance to answer, merely yelling the second his cock slid all the way back in. His balls slapping against her cunt with the ferocity of his fucks.

“This much.”

“Ngh~~~~~” she moaned wantonly, her legs spreading wider to let him fuck her harder. Her tits pressed into his chest as her back arched. She was incapable of handling him when he went this fast–fucking her like she was simply his sweet little ragdoll.

Her cunt squeezed around him, eager—hungry. Her orgasm was close. She felt it and it made her oh so needy, so desperate for him. He made her like this.

He pressed down her, forcing her body lower into the bed. His cock never fully leaving her cunt as he delivered brutal, attuned thrusts to her sweet spot–eager to make her crumble. Her soft tits bounced as they pressed against his chest, making him all the more hungry.

His cock forcefully pressed against her g-spot, pressing against it like he was owed something–and he was, he was owed her.

“Ah!~ohhhh~nghh–ha-nhnnn~” her moans were music to his ears.

He pulled out of her spasming cunt, staring down at her pussy to watch her squirt all over the place. Her hips trembled, her luscious tits bouncing with each jolt of her body as she let out more and more juices. Her hands on his arms gripping him so tightly.

He licked his lips, the sight of her like this was just so ravishing—just seeing her like this made him teeter on the edge of cumming himself. His cock throbbed, pre-cum dripping within his condom.

He lightly slapped her cunt, making her twitch, “I love you.”

He kissed her throat as she writhed sensitively, from the aftermath of her high.

“I love you, I love you, I love you.” he went on.

“Toru.” she murmured weakly, her voice too small.

“I love you.” he said just as he forced the entirety of his cock into her once-more. The wet sound that followed was completely lewd but the tight fit of her slick, wet cunt spasming around him—

“Ohhh,” he groaned gutturally into her neck before rasping out, “you’re perfect.”

The maid stared at the bed after they were long gone.

Several of the pillows were strewn across the room, only one in the center of the bed against the headboard. The blankets were a rumpled mess, half on the bed half on the floor. The entire white curtained canopy bed frame was caved in, one of the bedposts laying haphazardly on the floor beside it. And to top it all off, the discarded plastic golden packets of condoms were littered all across the floor.

The maid sighed, “I don’t get paid enough for this.”

“You should’ve let me clean the room at least.” she scolded him lowly.

“Baby i swear it’s fine. They’ve seen worse.”

“I don’t care.”

“That's their job.”

“What are you guys whispering about?” Shoko asked from across them.

She didn’t give them a chance to respond when she leaned back in her seat, “Where the hell were you guys last night? I called both of you.”

The limo suddenly jolted over uneven road. The hair that’d been covering Ara’s neck suddenly shifted over her shoulder, revealing the hickey’s along her neck.

“Well that answers your question.” toji answered dryly.

ara’s brows furrowed before realizing. She flushed as she quickly repositioned her hair despite the hickeys already being seen.

“You guys couldn’t wait to get freaky til after the afterparty?” Shoko questioned grumpily.

Gojo’s hand slipped into ara’s, “oops.”

Shoko rolled her eyes a moment before the limo came to a stop. Geto awoke from his slumber.

ijichi opened the car door, “We are at the brunch spot you requested, sir.”

“You mean i requested. If it were up to satoru we’d be at a bakery right now.” Shoko clarified.

“What’s wrong with bakeries?”

“Not everyone wants to eat sweets for breakfast.”

Ara sighed before picking up her macbook and laying down on the bed. She lay with her front to the sheets and her feet in the air.

She hit the backspace button multiple times-with a bit more ferocity than necessary.

She suddenly felt someone smack her ass and turned around to see gojo. He’d just exited the bathroom.

“What the fuck!” she rubbed her ass, “you’re home?”

He sat on the bed, “yeah, just got back,”

He leaned closer to peer at her laptop, “What’s got you huffing and puffing?”

She angled her laptop away from him, “I’m trying to write my valedictorian speech.”

“Oh, i already finished mine.”

He watched her frown and broke out in a grin. They both ended up getting the valedictorian title. despite the school staff picking apart their grades to a T it seems their gpa was the exact same, down to the decimals. it was the first time their academy had dual valedictorians.

“Alright show off.”

He attempted to reach for her macbook, “Let me see what you wrote so far-“

“No.”

“Come on~”

“Let me see yours then.”

He tilted his head, “Why would I show you mine? Your gonna copy it.”

She scoffed, “Why would i need to copy you?”

“Cuz I'm a good writer.”

“Sure.”

“I'm good at everything.”

“Would you stop talking? You're distracting me.” she huffed, annoyed.

“I’m sorry~” he lightly tickled her chin.

She pretended to bite his finger, making him grin.

He pushed the laptop away from her, leaning close towards her.

“Maybe you need a distraction?”

She leaned back, “I definitely don’t.”

He shut her laptop, before quickly burying his head in the crook of her shoulder and cuddling her.

She smacked his back, “Toru!”

His voice came out muffled against her neck, “I just want your attention~” he whined.

Her shoulders sagged as she gave up, “Great.”

He smiled before shifting himself closer towards her. She stared up at him from the corner of her eye before gradually relaxing.

She stared at the fluttering curtains as the wind blew from the open doors leading to the balcony. the sun was bright, hot enough to make you burnt toast tan in five minutes. the breeze brought in the scent of flowers from the gardens.

She inhaled before exhaling audibly.

“You see?” Satoru’s low voice came from above her ear, “Didn’t you need a break?”

She glanced up to see him gazing down at her.

He lightly tapped her nose, “I’m gonna do this when we’re in university too. bug you when you’re too stressed.”

Her eyes narrowed, “Is that what you're gonna do? Instead of encouraging me to study?”

“I don’t need to encourage you. You study too much.”

“Because I can't engrain my notes in my brain after one read through like you.”

“Why can’t you?”

She rolled her eyes, “I would if I could.”

“s’okay, i’ll help you.” he kissed her cheek, “we can pay someone to take your exams for you.”

She raised a brow, “you can?”

“Absolutely.”

“That’s insane.” she muttered, “I’d probably get expelled if we got caught.”

“You wouldn’t get caught.”

She peered at him through narrowed eyes, “Are you ever not cocky?”

“I’m not being cocky,” he chuckled, “It’s the truth. They’re professional exam takers you can hire but I know you’d never take that up.”

She sighed, “i wouldn’t.” She only trusted herself to submit her best work.

A moment of silence ensued. He drew circles on her stomach with his index finger. She breathed in another flower scented breeze.

“Are you excited about college?” he asked her.

“I’m kind of.. nervous.”

“Yeah?” he perked up, “Why?”

“Because.. isn’t it supposed to be some of the most memorable years of your life?”

“Yeah but shouldn’t that make you hype?”

“It does but I also want to make sure I don't mess with my future. i hear the connections you make in college can really affect your career.”

He chuckled slightly, “We’re going to Stanford, trust. The networking opportunities will be endless baby.”

“So you're not nervous in the least, i’m assuming.”

“i am a little nervous.”

“about?”

“Well it’s a new stage of my life. i’m gonna miss our academy.”

“I won’t.”

He smirked, “Not even your senior year?”

“What’s there to miss?”

“Think your funny huh?” he tickled her stomach lightly, “We had mad fun this year.”

“yeah, yeah, yeah.”

He rested his head on her chest, partially laying over her, “I’m happy we’re dorming together.”

Dorms weren’t supposed to be co-ed but of course, nothing was impossible when it came to him. He’d also gotten them a penthouse dorm as well. The privilege her boyfriend had was truly something else.

Her nails raked through his soft hair, “Me too.” she murmured.

He snuggled further against her.

“Now please, let’s welcome one of our dual valedictorians, Ara Natsuna!” Principal Yaga spoke into the mic before smiling grandly at her.

She walked upto the podium, setting down her speech despite not really needing it. She’d memorized it enough times.

There were so many people before her right now. her classmates all donning their cap and gowns. their parents on the bleachers. the numerous staff looking on at her in anticipation. the cameraman below the stage across her.

Normally in circumstances like this she’d want to bury herself in a hole or pray to the holy god above to throw down a lightning strike and make her disintegrate on the spot but no-for once-this felt fine.

Her public speaking coach had trained her through and through. These people around her.. were just people. at the end of the day, their eyes on her wouldn’t make a difference, they couldn’t affect her unless she let it.

There was no point to letting it affect her when the little shitheads that were her classmates would forget her words anyway.

but it was up to her to make this moment count. a moment she’d worked overly zealous for and yet the only person who seemed to care was her boyfriend. her dad was nowhere in the crowd.

She thought she hadn’t dared to hope and yet..

She stood up straighter, offering the crowd a small smile before speaking once the applause died down, “this.. is such a momentous moment. ever since i stepped into high school, being here, on this stage, as valedictorian is all i’ve ever wanted.”

She paused, “and now i’m here.”

She resisted the urge to swallow nervously and instead tipped her chin higher, “I know people say high school is all about the memories, having fun before the real world starts but-as everyone knows-high school is more than that. It's a foundation. not only for your education and career, but for yourself.”

“I couldn’t tell you everything that high school has taught me but one thing I can say with full confidence is that within these past few years I finally know myself. knowing yourself is the best thing you can do for your betterment.”

“knowing your tells. your viewpoints. your stances. your bias. your dreams. your goals. your choices. recognizing these things can save you in the future.”

“Your dreams, are your dreams. and don’t ever let anyone tell you otherwise. if you feel yourself straying off the path you envision for yourself, then listen to your thoughts, your feelings, your gut will tell you, if this is right for you—and I believe if it is right for you, you’ll know.”

“You only live this life once. as cliche as it is, I feel like i have to say it because it’s so easy to forget. to get so absorbed in the past, present, future— wherever your mind lies. regardless of how much you think about things, none of it changes. none of it gets pushed to motion unless you do something about it.”

“You are the creator of your universe. what you allow, is what you attract and what you deny is a choice you control.”

“I hope you all make smart decisions in whatever career path you pursue. our jobs don’t only affect us, but generations behind us. Even if all you do is simply inspire people for a moment, anything makes a difference. everything has a butterfly effect.”

“Just like now, high school might be over but this is really just the beginning.”

She dipped her head slightly in a subtle courteous bow.

“Class of 20XX, i’m out.”

The class erupted in cheers, whistles and applause. She smiled before walking away from the mic, taking her speech from the podium with her-despite having not looked at it once.

The principal clasped her hand, shaking it, “That was wonderful, Ara. truly. Thank you.”

He then walked over to the podium, saying a few words that she was too wired up to hear. Just as she walked off the stage, Gojo grasped her arm.

She glanced up at him.

He was smiling so brightly it put the sun to shame. His eyes glittered with charisma as he looked her up and down.

“I’m so proud of you kitten,” his smile turned into something more mischievous, “My baby sounded like she was gonna conquer the world.”

Ara smiled subtly, “thank you.”

There was something in her eyes he couldn’t pin. He didn’t have much time to dwell on it because suddenly they overheard the principal speak.

“..and next up, is our final dual valedictorian, Gojo Satoru!”

He bent down to press a chaste kiss to her lips.

“Wish me luck.” he flashed her one more bedazzling smile before bounding up the steps. If the cheers had been loud for when she’d stepped up to the podium, it sounded a dozen times louder now. Quite the little nepobaby celebrity he was.

She turned around, watching his tall frame tower over the podium as he adjusted the mic before taking the mic off the stand completely and walking around the stage as he spoke. She didn’t need to focus on his words to know he was galvanizing the crowd. He faced different sides of the crowd as he spoke, dividing his attention to make everyone feel addressed. She wondered if he’d studied that or if it was just another thing that came naturally to him.

She pried her eyes off of him to glance down at her wristwatch. She cleared her throat before walking towards the Vice Principal.

“Your speech was very inspiring, Ara. Congratulations once again.”

“Thank you.” Ara smiled half-heartedly, “I’m just gonna use the bathroom.”

“Of course.”

Ara weaved through a few people before walking towards the outdoor bathroom. She glanced around, making sure there were no people in the stalls before locking the bathroom door. She walked into the last stall to pull out a hidden duffel bag behind the door. She stuffed her diploma in the bag before taking off her graduation cap and gown and lastly, her grad dress to reveal another outfit underneath. She switched out of her heels to sneakers.

She exited the stall to roll up her graduation clothes in a bundle and stuff them into the trash. She opened the duffel bag on the counter to pull out a wig. She hastily put it on, before adjusting it to make sure it sat naturally on her head. She gave herself one last look over before pulling out her cell phone and tossing it into the sink. She turned the sink on, letting her phone drown in the rising sink water.

She turned the sink off before hoisting the duffel bag over her shoulder and heading out. She walked towards the entrance of the school, glancing around until she spotted the taxi cab waiting upfront-just as planned.

She opened the car door, “Hi, thank you for waiting.”

The driver nodded, “Of course, ma’am. Heading to the airport?”

“Yes.” she confirmed before sitting comfortably in the back. She withdrew her second phone from the duffel bag, as well as her new ID, her new passport, her new social security card. Everything.

In truth, she’d purchased several fake identities from the black market. After a lot of sleuthing she’d managed to access the black market online. She only accessed it from public computers so it wouldn’t get traced back to her. She’d used these fake identities to sell more than half of the gifts Satoru had given her on different websites. She hadn’t sold some of the flashier items he’d gifted her due to knowing it might garner too much attention and the last thing she wanted was to get caught.

She then created several bank accounts with these fake identities and transferred the hefty sum of her sales to her main fake identity’s account. The one she’d be using from this day forward.

She also used these fake identities to book multiple flights–multiple flights as in 100+. She knew it was inevitable that he would be able to find some of her fake identities but to trace 100+ flights, some of which she had sold the flight tickets to people online? That would be a feat.

But it didn’t matter because she didn’t book the actual flight she was planning on taking with the identities she’d used before. She’d booked it from her main new identity. Sade West. Sade was just an adopted girl who’d lived all her life in Southern California and had just graduated from a regular, public high school. Sade was taking an early flight to the town she planned on going to college in. Everything was already submitted and set for her to attend this college for the upcoming Fall semester. All the cards were already aligned.

The taxi came to a stop in front of the bustling airport. Ara gave the taxi driver an excessive tip in cash before stepping out with her duffel bag. She walked inside the airport and went straight to the bathroom. She entered one of the stalls and changed again. New wig, new shoes, new shirt, new jeans. Everything. She even removed a mini duffel bag from the larger one. The mini duffel bag carried everything she truly needed.

She stepped out of the stall and disposed of the larger duffel bag. She saw a woman eye her astonishedly-Ara supposed she couldn’t blame her. The duffel bag she had just dumped was Burberry, worth more than $2K. It wasn’t her fault that everything she owned was designer.

She almost hoped the woman would steal it after she left, less things for her to be traced by.

Ara looked in the mirror, smoothing down her wig and touching up her makeup. Sade West looked awfully pretty–the kind of pretty that would make a girl immediately wish they were her upon one glance. She’d picked this look on purpose, something stylish and feminine–a completely different aura from what her comfort driven soul would naturally gravitate towards but she liked it. She wanted something different and enticing. She wanted to channel anything and everything that wasn’t herself.

“You’re beautiful.” the woman who’d been eyeing her bag earlier complimented.

“Thank you.”

Ara would’ve been more flattered if her mind wasn’t running a million miles per hour at the second. Satoru’s speech must’ve been done by now. Her fellow classmates must’ve all thrown their caps in the air and she’d missed it. Missed it all. Satoru might’ve even found her phone in the bathroom by now. She’d only thrown it in the sink to momentarily disable it. The phone itself was still on so he’d be able to see that it was in the bathroom, he wouldn’t be able to use it for a while though–Iphones aren’t known for their great water resistance for a reason. The iphone might’ve even died. She couldn’t be sure. Regardless, it didn’t matter. He wouldn’t be able to find anything on it anyway.

Her second phone had all her information. The phone she’d bought and kept on her or hidden at all times so she knew he couldn’t tamper with it. It was a weird feeling, using all the things he’d provided her with to get what she wants.

Karma. Is all she could think of it as.

Suddenly a voice spoke through the airport’s intercom system, “Flight Number XXXX to NYC has arrived, passengers please line up at Gate 24 for boarding.”

Ara straightened, staring at her own eyes in the mirror. There was no turning back now. She wasn’t even sure if she’d ever be back in California after this–if everything went according to plan, she probably wouldn’t. California wasn’t her home anymore and if she was honest with herself.. It never was.

Ara glanced down at her hand, at the promise ring on her finger. This promise ring was Ara’s–not Sade’s. Ara had a lot of sadness in her heart, not Sade. Ara was a girl without wings, not Sade. Ara was a deadweight.

Sade didn’t need Ara anymore.

She took off the promise ring.

Four years later

She had just picked up another oil pastel when her wristwatch started to beep. She jolted, dropping the crayon on the floor.

“Fuck.” she muttered.

She stepped off of her stool and picked it up, carefully setting the oil pastel back on the tray. The spotless light wash wood floor now had a smudge of red on it. She quickly grabbed a paper towel and poured some water on it before attempting to scrub the stain off the floor. The little red smudge was now a noticeable stain. With each rub she seemed to be making it worse.

She stopped, staring down at the now light red and bigger stain on the floor with a frown.

“What is it?”

She was immediately drawn from her thoughts at the familiar voice. She stood up.

“Mr. Heim.” she answered in surprise. She tossed the wet paper towel onto the counter nearby and instinctively reached to run her hand through her hair only to see the oil pastel markings on her hands and decided against it. Her hands hung idly at her sides as he slowly approached.

Reese Heim was one of her favorite artists in the flesh. He mainly used acrylics but something about his art always evoked some sort of buried emotions in her. He used dark colors as much as he used light colors–always in some sort of balance that turned out unequivocally perfect. It was always so satisfying, she could stare at his art for days. (a/n: i’d like to imagine his artwork similar to the artist Khaled Alkhani’s work, feel free to look him up)

He was tall and in his late twenties. He had wavy, dark brown hair that ended just above his shoulders. His haircut kind of reminded her of Flynn Rider from tangled. Besides that, he dressed like a tech company CEO. Always wearing semi-fitted black long sleeves or the like.

Reese glanced down at the stain, “Oh, don't worry about that.” His words held a tinge of his Italian accent. He’d been raised in Italy until the age of 18. It’d been 11 years since then.

“The cleaning crew will take care of it.” he added, before his gray eyes flitted to her canvas on the easel. She’d just started it today so it was barely done, maybe just a quarter finished.

He circled around her work station before stopping in front of her canvas. Her breath stopped as he silently assessed it.

She didn’t know him well. He didn’t speak much so when they spoke it was mainly her talking–which never ended well cuz she wasn’t much of a talker herself. She only began working with him recently as well, and it wouldn’t have happened if her favorite curator hadn’t been involved.

She’d made many connections due to her artwork in college but meeting Lynelle Ivo was one of the best things that had ever happened to her. Lynelle fell in love with her work-which was a rare, rare thing because Lynelle was one of the most renowned art curators in the world. Lynelle felt so connected with her artwork that she basically became her art assistant, manager and publicist, all rolled in one. It became a requirement for Lynelle to showcase Sade’s art in all of her exhibitions. She even requested Sade to make custom pieces to fit the theme of the exhibitions if none of her previous artwork fit the genre.

It’d been a hurdle to balance it all–to manage consistently making art whilst working on school but all of it was worth it when Lynelle agreed to her wish. Lynelle agreed to let her artwork be made anonymously. It was something Sade had wanted for a while since her artwork was slowly gaining traction and the thought of being well-known scared her more than anyone knew.

Lynelle had told her the interest in her artwork might die down if she decides to release art anonymously because it’s usually the artist that helps drive their artwork to more publicity. Sade had been aware of this and still agreed.

And yet-opposite to what they’d all been expecting-after going anonymous her art seemed to go viral. Lynelle explained that it seemed the mystery of not knowing who the art was being made by added more to her work’s lore. Well, to be fair it wasn’t just the anonymity that made her artwork famous–it was one piece in particular and of course if one piece gets famous, usually interest build’s for the other artist’s works and for them to be anonymous… it all just blew up from there–in social media terms.

Sade herself still very much stayed off of social media so it was mainly her publicist/social media manager, Kory, taking care of that for her. Kory managed her website. While her manager, Dean, took care of her schedule and art sales. Dean was annoyingly repetitive about her deadlines–she knew it was for her benefit but she hated constantly being reminded. Despite it all she loved her team, Lynelle really knew exactly what kind of people she needed by her side.

She wouldn’t have needed a team if Chroma’s Atelier Interactive paint Company hadn’t reached out to her fresh out of college-two months after she’d gone anonymous. The paint company seemed to find out that she used their paint and reached out to contract a sponsorship deal with her for a total of three years, with the potential of extending it. When the money first started to pour in from her sponsorship, she’d nearly cried.

But out of everything she’d experienced in this upward trend, it was capturing Reese Heim’s attention that shocked her to the core. Apparently he’d been invited to one of Lynelle’s exhibitions in Italy and he’d seen one of her art pieces. Apparently he’d stared at it for about half an hour before asking all the staff nearest to get him in contact with someone who could reach out to the artist-nearly making a scene while doing so. He finally was able to get in contact with Lynelle.

Lynelle doesn’t entirely have the best opinion of him as a person but even she agrees his art is something to look at. She’d requested him for his artwork in some of her exhibitions before but it was always a gamble because sometimes he would decline. Apparently he is very picky about where his art is showcased. She supposed he was at the level to be picky since none of his artwork is worth less than 15K.

But anyway, as Lynelle put it–it was the first time she’d seen him ‘off his high horse’ when he asked if she could reach out to the artist to offer them an art studio in his company.

At first, Sade had been elated–even elated didn’t fully describe how happy she’d been with the offer but then she asked Lynelle what exactly would that position entail? Lynelle had explained that Reese had his own art company where he helped young artists have a space to create more artwork and he himself would sometimes assist these artists and showcase them in his New York City gallery.

But that was only if he really liked your art. If your art wasn’t on par with his standards he would have his team redirect you to place your artwork in another gallery of his recommendation. For some up and coming artists he would set them up with a team if he really liked them–but since she already had her own that wasn’t exactly an issue.

Usually his art space had a limit of six months for fresh artists to use his offered art studios—he had the limitation set so that other artists could get a chance but as far as she was aware, she did not have any set time limit. His only request was that whatever artwork she produced in his company’s studio be showcased in his gallery. Which meant fresh pieces.

It was a challenge that she wasn’t taking lightly.

“Oil pastels,” he noted, “Chroma’s not gonna be happy.”

She shifted slightly, “They already know I’m interested in trying new mediums.”

He turned around, revealing a faint smile on his lips. “Do they?”

He eyed the assortment of oil pastels that were laid out on her work table.

“What brought this on?”

“I.. I was inspired by Frederic Paul.” she admitted. (a/n: a real artist btw, feel free to check his works out. they're so pretty)

His left brow quirked up as he contemplated that, “I thought he used oil paints.”

“He does but I wanted more texture.”

He nodded, murmuring, “Oil pastels will do just that.”

His gray eyes flitted to hers, “So you plan on using lighter colors in this piece?”

It was a valid question-even if it threw her off slightly. It was true, she naturally gravitated towards darker colors in her work. In fact, Lynelle said a reason why she felt so attracted to her artwork was because there seemed to be this theme of entrapment. It created a sense of mystery that she supposedly couldn’t look away from.

“I’m not sure.” she answered.

“Do you have an outline?”

She shook her head, “Not a physical one.”

She added after a beat, “Do you suggest I make one?”

“No, no.” he shook his head, “That’s fine. Do what you deem best.”

Her wristwatch began to beep again. She quickly turned it off.

“Do you have somewhere to be?” he inquired as she began to take her off her apron.

“Yeah, I have my aerial silks yoga class.”

He watched her shuffle things into her tote bag, “Do you go everyday?”

“Yeah, I mean-no, I go Monday through Thursday.”

He quickly glanced away when he caught himself staring at her in her black Athleta body suit. It covered most of her skin down to her ankles-except for her toned arms-but it was rather fitted. She bent down to re-tie the laces of her adidas sambas and pulled up her white socks slightly higher. She slipped into a black trench coat and flipped her long, neat braid out from the coat’s collar before grabbing her tote bag.

She hung the lightweight bag over her shoulder, “I’m free to go right?”

The corner of his lip twitched, “Yes.”

“Thank you. See you tomorrow.”

Just as she passed by him, he suddenly spoke, “Wait.”

She stopped, glancing over to see him standing with his arms crossed. The subtle outline of his shapely biceps could be seen from his stance.

“Friday. We’re having a company dinner, Alyssa insisted on it so.. come if you can.”

Alyssa was his assistant.

She hesitated, “I’ll try.”

“Good.”

They stood in silence for a moment before he faced her.

She took a step back, “Um, See you then.”

She didn’t wait for a response when she headed out of the studio. She shook her head slightly, attempting to shake off the inexplicable tension she felt whenever she was with him.

She was walking down the stairs when she caught Alyssa walking up them.

Alyssa shot her a warm smile, “Have a good day, Sade.”

“Thanks, you too-oh!” she belatedly remembered, “Where’s the dinner at by the way? The company dinner on Friday?”

Alyssa blinked, “On Friday?”

“Yeah, Mr. Heim said it was on Friday.”

Alyssa raised her hands, “Wow, looks like he finally picked a date! I was thinking for it to be at this Mediterranean restaurant called Meduza but we’ll send out a group text, don’t worry.”

Sade nodded slowly, lost in thought for a moment.

Alyssa smiled once more before patting her on the shoulder, “Have a good one.” Before clip-clopping up the steps.

Sade walked down the steps, suddenly remembering herself–she didn’t want to be late. But she couldn’t stop thinking about Alyssa’s words. If Mr.Heim hadn’t picked a day for the company dinner earlier but suddenly picked Friday after hearing that she didn’t have classes on Friday… am I being delusional? Her apartment mate would know.

Just as she pulled out her phone from her pocket, her apartment mate called.

Sade quickly answered the phone, walking as she talked, “Dude, I was just about to call you–”

“Really? Guess what, guess what, guess what.”

“What?”

“So I was walking back to our apartment with all my groceries in my hands, because I forgot to bring the cart–and I only went out to get one thing but whatever. Anyway, it started to fucking pour outside and of course, I don’t have my umbrella so I start fast walking until this fucking asshole rams into me and I literally end up dropping all my shit on the sidewalk in front our building.”

“Oh god.”

“But out of fucking no where, like an angel dropped from the sky this guy comes up to me and he starts helping me pick up all my stuff. He literally gives me his umbrella and puts up his hood and just starts handing me all my stuff–even bagging it all up with me. But yo, when I tell you this man was the most handsomest man I’ve ever seen in my life-like-no joke. He was fine.”

Sade laughs slightly, “Damn.”

“Tall as shit too. Anyway, he was so fine that when he offered to help me bring all my stuff up to my apartment I didn’t decline cuz-”

“You let him into our apartment?”

“I needed the help! My arms were too sore man but wait, just wait-listen. So yeah, he helps bring all my groceries inside and I offer him some water as thanks. We’re talking a bit. He’s actually so funny and nice. He’s so handsome, bro, I honestly thought he was a model but apparently he isn’t, I asked. Even though his outfit was casual, something about him gave old money. Anyway, while we’re talking he sees our group pic on the fridge and points you out. He said he knows you. He said you guys knew each other in High School.”

“What?”

“Yeah, and he was so shook about it too. He kept calling you another name but he said he had to see you. I didn’t want him to wait at the apartment because I wasn’t sure when you’d be back and I didn’t want him to be here for that long either so I told him where you worked. He literally dipped so quickly–”

Sade had just opened up her umbrella and stepped outside of the building, only to freeze, “Wait, you told him where I worked?”

“Yeah, I didn’t want you to feel ambushed when you got home so-”

“What’s wrong with you? Why would you tell a complete stranger where I worked?”

“I-I’m sorry, he just seemed so excited to see you. He had this selfie of you guys together from high school and it looked so adorable–you looked so young. I don’t know. I thought you would be happy.. he said he’s been looking for you for so long.”

Her throat went dry. “What’s his name.”

She could tell her apartment mate, Priya, was thrown off by her seriousness, “I don’t remember.”

“How did he look like?”

“He was tall–like tall tall. White hair-but he looked around our age-and he has the brightest blue eyes I’ve ever seen on this planet…”

Sade had zoned out, her breathing had grown labored and suddenly everything felt like it was spinning around her but she couldn’t move, her feet were planted to the ground and yet she knew… she knew the sixth sense that was nagging at her. She would know that feeling anywhere.

no no no no no no

The sense of doom that sprawled through her nerves was decapitating. She felt like her entire body had gone numb. This had to be a bad nightmare. Just a bad dream she was on the verge of waking up from in a few seconds.

Wake up wake up wake up wake up!

As much as everything in her didn’t want to, her eyes were searching for her. She turned, looking every which way to find the source of the sensation—the source of that feeling in her gut that she hadn’t felt in so long.

Her hair rose on her skin. She found it. Him.

Gojo Satoru stood right across the street from her. His hands in his long coat pockets. A hood covering his head–and as if he wanted to make it any clearer that it was him, he pulled the hood down to reveal the entirety of his ruffled white hair. The wide grin on his lips was unmistakable.

She stopped breathing.

Goosebumps rose along her skin and the bustling city sounds became nothing but background noise.

Suddenly the light turned green and cars began to zoom in between them.

The spell of his imposing stare broke and she gasped–her hand coming to her chest. She thought she was gonna puke but all that consumed her mind was his eyes. Those radiant blue eyes that were surrounded by enviable lengthy white lashes–the eyes that haunted her nightmares from time to time and the eyes that had seen too much of her.

She was running. She didn’t know when she started running but she was. She was running so fast without a single destination in mind. All she knew was that she had to run.

She thought she heard his laugh in the distance but it could’ve been her hallucinating. She just hoped all of this was a hallucination. She prayed it was.

But the sound of her feet hitting the asphalt was too real. The thump of her heartbeat pumping in her chest was too real. The fear feeding into her adrenaline was too real.

She ran across the street just as a car was about to turn, nearly colliding with her.

“Ara!!”

No!

She barely registered passerbys glancing her way as she ran. Had she really heard him calling out her name?

No no no no no no–

Suddenly she felt something catapult into her so hard she nearly hit the floor face first until hands slipped around her waist.

She shoved whoever caught her. No! No, I can’t stop now. I can’t–

“Ara.”

She attempted to run away but her legs were too weak. The force of the shove sent any adrenaline she had out the window. The speed of her actions catching up to her.

She stumbled blindly away from the voice, leading herself into a dark alley.

She was out of breath. The rainwater was making it hard to see. She didn’t remember when she’d dropped her umbrella.

“Ara.”

She was coughing up a storm. Her hand went to the brick wall beside her before she dropped to her knees, heaving as she attempted to catch her breath.

Suddenly she felt a hand catch her chin and push her small body against the alley wall.

She was forced to stare up into those blazing turquoise eyes. The eyes that dominated her nightmares, the eyes that subjugated her body and soul.

Rainwater dripped from strands of his shiny hair and slid down his poreless face. His face had gotten more defined, more sharp–his sculpted jawline more prominent than ever. The shadows under his eyes were just as visible, somehow emphasizing the piercing blue brilliance of his eyes. His lips were glossy, just like they had always been.

It didn’t hit her until the scent of his familiar cologne filled her nostrils. That deep, heedy, expensive scent that she’d be forced to inhale whenever his body moved too harshly inside her, making her hide her face in his neck.

Her eyes brimmed with tears.

His fingers tightened around her chin, “Found you.”

“No.” she choked out, attempting to shake her head but she couldn’t. His fingers around her chin were too firm.

She tried to move from her seated position against the wall but she couldn’t. Her legs felt too weak. Her limbs ached from the excessive strength she’d used earlier.

More tears poured out from her eyes, “No.” she rasped.

“You cryin’?” He asked softly, despite the obvious taunt, “You cryin’ cuz you missed me?”

He slowly looked her up and down, with all the patience in the world. As if taking her in piece by piece before letting his eyes roam her countenance once-more.

He sighed, “Still such a pretty fuckin’ crier, s’not fair.”

“Stop,” she cried, reaching out to push at his chest since he sat hunched over her on one leg. “Stop.”

He didn’t budge. Instead his free hand caught her wrist and his hand on her chin moved to catch one of her tears with his thumb.

“I missed this.” His voice was so low. “I missed this so much.”

She was full on sobbing now.

He leaned towards her, nearly touching his forehead against hers. The air thinned out between them, maybe because she was breathing so fast-consuming so much—inhaling and exhaling all of it-that charged air between their limited proximity. It was magnetic, just as it was intoxicating. It was like breathing in something you knew you shouldn’t, something that made your mouth water but you both knew was poison. You knew each breath would numb your nerves. You knew each breath could kill you. You knew your next breath could be your last.

“I missed you.”

“No you don’t.” she cried, shaking her head as she attempted to stand up. “You don’t!”

“I do.”

He grabbed her shoulders and shoved her back down but this time he made her lean against him. Her head landed against his chest, her small frame in the circle of his larger one.

“No-!” She attempted to scramble up but he caught her by her waist length plait and yanked her back. Before she could cry out he withdrew a handkerchief from the inside of his coat and cupped it over her mouth.

Her eyes widened and she thrashed in his arms for a good second before finally going limp. Her eyes fluttering closed.

He removed the handkerchief from her lips before turning it over to the untainted side and wiping all the raindrops and tears from her pretty face.

He kissed her forehead before whispering against her skin, “I found you.”

a/n: u guys, i know this entire chapter 5 has been such a journey from start to finish but u r fr an OG for making it all the way through. In total-with these four parts combined-chapter 5 is 205 pages of manuscript. Can you believe that?? Anyway, wow. Writing this chapter has been choatic but I'm so happy that I can finally share what's been sitting in my head with you guys. U guys have no idea how I felt writing the last bit of this chapter, I felt like I wanted to cover my eyes while I typing it but pls feel free to share your thoughts, questions and opinions in the comments below. I'm so curious to read them all. Once again ty for reading my work!!

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scoutswritingcorner · 6 months

Note

heyy... i was wondering if i could request adam x fem reader where reader gets rlly drunk at a party with adam and when they get home shes like all over him begging him to fuck her and spilling all her dirty secrets about kinks and stuff she has (bondage, masochism, overstim, free use, degradation, etc.) because in reality theyd only fucked a few times since they started dating and she wasnt completely ready to tell him all her kinks and stuff but was planning to do it soon and just accidentally spilled it while she was drunk. shes like literally grinding on him on his lap on the couch and hes trying so so so hard to refrain himself because as much as he wants her, hes never seen her this way and doesnt want to be a complete dick and take advantage of her. she eventually starts crying then falls asleep on him then in the morning shes like "what fucking happened???" and he tells her and shes embarrassed and hes like "its oky bbg i still love u"

so yah thats it, id youre not comfy with this stuff no worries, no pressure. have a good day/night :))

Drunken Mess

Adam x GN!Reader

TW: Talks about nsfw, alcohol and partying

A/N: Hey hey friend! Sorry this took so long to write! I made it into a Gender Neutral Reader as that’s what I’m more comfortable with! Hope it’s not too much of a hassle! It is also a little short, I'm sorry friend!

He groaned and glared up at the ceiling as he held your hips to a stop so he wouldn’t get the wrong point across to your drunken brain. Lute was going to fucking kill him, he promised to keep his eyes on you. Yet here you were drunk out of your gourd, whispering stuff to him on the couch in your shared home “Babe- c’mon stop.”

You whined out gently kissing his cheek, “Adam..I gotsa tell you a secret..don’t tell anyone.” You whispered as you leaned closer to him, “I’m really really kinky..Like..sometimes when I’m talking to you and we are about to do the spicy tango-” you slurred out shaking your head before moving to get comfortable on his lap, “I want you to tie my hands behind my back and fuck me into the mattress but I chicken out.” You explained before moving to fall down onto the couch, laughing loudly.

Your legs were draped over his lap as you kept spouting out on how he could’ve overstimulated you all night and you wouldn’t have minded, even going as far as giving him finger guns. He sighed and got up ignoring how you whined at him, he scooped you up into his arms and kissed your cheek. “Oh are we going to bed now?~” You teased leaning your head against his shoulder. He shook his head bringing you to your shared room, ignoring your sexual comments as he helped you get dressed in some pajamas. “Babe- stop kicking me-” He grumbled out finally getting your pants off, your shoes thrown near your closet as he grabbed the pair of shorts you always wore to bed.

“I have a boyfriend!” you yelled out trying to kick your feet at him but realized how he was now moving around to his side of the bed, patting his stomach with a huff as his wings stretched out. You stared at him for a long while before you were now laying your head on his chest, his hand rubbing your back slowly.

When you woke up in the morning, your head was still on his chest as he was checking his phone, your head was killing you. “Adam? Baby?” You called out, making him hum in reply, “I didn’t do anything stupid did I?”

Adam chuckled, “Oh I don’t know? Want me to tie you up and fuck you senseless? Damn I knew you loved my cock but not that much” He teased, causing your face to turn bright red as you hit his chest making him laugh even more before kissing your head. “I love you, babe.” He whispered against your head making you smile and leaned up to kiss him gently. “I love you too…but where is the hangover relief?”

#hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel imagine #gn reader #adam x gn!reader #hazbin adam #adam x reader #hazbin hotel adam

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sierrrraaawwwwwcgtcvh · 7 months

Note

Hello! I saw you taking requests and was wondering if you could do something. Where the fem reader is a fallen angel, who is found by Carmilla? You can write it however you want, I just think that would be a nice concept starter.

You didn't regret falling from grace even if it was simply mere moments ago, but the pain was getting to you. The feeling of your wings ripped from your back was causing golden blood to ooze out of your back. Your halo was gone in milliseconds. You remembered the way you shivered as they ripped it from above your head.

It didn't help that the exorcist who ripped off your wings almost took out your eye. You were sure they would've ripped it out of its socket if it wasn't for you managing to get away. They were only able to slice your eyebrow before you got up and ran.

The reason you ended up falling from grace was because you simply couldn't take it. This was your third time coming down into hell and each time you felt horrible. You couldn't handle the screams the demons let out as you slaughtered them. You felt horrible, why were you even killing them?

With you questioning Heaven, and letting two little twin girls run away, you got stripped of your rank in Heaven and were now a fallen angel.

You stumbled as you ran throughout an alleyway, not caring about who was staring at you or what was happening either. Earlier the exorcist who attacked you had ripped off your mask and now you no longer had the mask that all exorcists wore.

You knew you had to get somewhere safe, anywhere. It didn't matter whereas long as you were safe. You nearly reached the end of the alleyway before you had to stop and take a breather. Your feet hurt, badly.

You no longer felt the golden blood you had pour out of your back. That was good you had guessed. No more golden blood that gave you away.

You panted as you continued walking and made it out of the alleyway to a deserted area. People lying dead on the streets with angelic spears inside of them to signal their death.

You watched as two girls who looked similar to each other, the black horns made you piece together the connection they had, ran past you. You stared in confusion as you looked at where they came from.

You shivered as you saw an exorcist heading straight for you. With a stumble in your feet, you readied yourself for combat even though you knew you wouldn't likely make it. You didn't have an angelic spear anymore after all.

Even with your body's senses in overdrive, from the pain, the fear, you stood your ground as the exorcist flew towards you with an angelic spear ready to pierce your body.

You closed your eyes and braced for impact. However, the impact never came and a loud scream followed instead.

You instantly opened your eyes to see a woman with large hands you noticed, and hair that was shaped like horns. She had a red sclera and her eyes were as white as snow, with her pupils sharp as a cat's.

You looked her up and down not in a suggestive way as you also noticed the white around her legs was glowing.

You quickly realized the scream didn't come from her, nor you, but the exorcist that was now beheaded and on the floor.

Wait what? You did a double take as you realized the exorcist was beheaded and dead.

How did she-?

"Do not speak of this." Her eyes narrowed at you as she looked you over.

You opened your mouth to speak before she cut you off, "Is that your blood or an exorcists?" She spat out as you spoke.

"I-It's mine. It's my blood." Your voice was full with fear. She had just recently beheaded and killed that exorcist and now you were sure she was going to do the same to you.

"Are you.. fallen? Like, a fallen angel?" She questioned you as you simply nodded your head 'yes'.

You heard her let out a rather heavy sigh as you watched her walk towards you with curious eyes. Wait- who are you kidding? She's probably about to kill you! Oh well, hopefully it'll be fast and over with.

You were tired of the pain coming from your head and back. You just wanted the pain to go away.

The woman began circling you, inspecting you, as you heard two people running towards you and the woman.

"Mother! Are you alright?" You heard one of the girls ask as the woman stop inspecting you and walked over to where the voice came from.

You turned around and stood rather awkwardly as the woman embraced her two daughters, the girls who ran past you.

You realized you should leave as you stumbled when walking away. You didn't want to interrupt their conversation.

You couldn't hear them talking anymore. That was good, right? You continued walking as you felt a hand tightly grasp your shoulder.

You flinched and turned around to see the woman and her two daughters.

"Where are you going?" She asked with an eyebrow raised.

"Uhm.. I didn't want to interrupt you," you replied as you stared at her, confused as to why she was talking to you.

"You don't have a place to stay right? Plus, the amount of.. blood, on your back can't be a good sign." She sighed as she shook her head. "Stay with me and my daughters for just a bit. You won't survive on your own out here."

You took a second to think the offer over before nodding. "Okay.. what's your name?"

"My name is Carmilla Carmine, and yours?" She offered her hand out for you.

You took her hand as you replied with your name.

"That's a rather nice name. Let's go?" She looked at her daughters who simply nodded at her.

You thanked her as she simply nodded, acknowledging your thanks.

—

Word count: 975

AHHH I WAS SO UNSURE OF HOW TO WRITE CARMILLA FOR THIS, I LOVED THE IDEA SOOO MUCH THOUGH. SORRY IF YOU DON’T LIKE IT!

#carmilla carmine x reader #Carmila x reader #Hazbin hotel x reader #carmilla carmine #hazbin hotel

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zenkindoflove · 6 months

Note

10 desperately

For Elucien, but like, not an established relationship.

10...desperately.

Okay, Anon. This one got smutty. I mean, I read desperately and that's where my brain went. So this is very NSFW.

10…desperately

Elain closed her bedroom door, taking her first deep breath of the day.

He was here, of course. And because he was here, that meant that her body was not her own. Her nose could always pick up his scent, even when he was in the adjacent room. Her eyes always found him, trailing over his lean frame, noticing how nicely his pants fit him. And her ears could hear the consistent beating of his heart, thud thud, thud thud, thud thud.

It also meant that a more primal possession controlled her emotions. The part of her that ached for his touch.

She ignored it, of course. It was improper and senseless. Her mate was still a stranger to her, and despite the call of the mating bond, Elain was determined to maintain some of her dignity.

An entire day of ignoring her instincts left her sore and sensitive. As she slipped on her nightgown, the brush of the fabric against her nipples infused a whimper in her throat. She squeezed her core, her sex tingling with desire. It had been like this since she was Made. As a human, she remembered having a libido, but whether it was being a Fae or the mating bond, Elain found that her sexual hunger could be insatiable at times. Lucien usually had the good sense to not stay the night, and she was able to take care of her needs without him in the house. However, tonight she had heard him agree to Feyre’s offer, citing that he had a little too much to drink.

She could still hear his heart beating through the wall. He was put in the room down the hall, and if she listened close enough, she was sure she could hear his feet rustling against the floor as he got ready for bed.

She slid under her covers, keeping her hands over the comforter. She closed her eyes, laying on her side, squeezing her thighs tightly together. She could ignore this. She could fall asleep.

Her thoughts drifted as she laid there. She thought about what Lucien could be doing at that very moment. Was he lying in bed as well? Did he sleep in pajamas, or just sleep pants? Maybe he wore nothing to bed at all. Maybe beneath his sheets, he was hard, his cock aching to be touched like her pussy ached now. Maybe he ran his hand over himself, rubbing his palm against his shaft once to try and relieve some of the pressure.

Elain rolled over on her stomach, pulling her top sheet around her and bunching it up underneath. She grinded her mound against it, seeking pressure on her throbbing clit. She knew that this alone wasn’t enough to fully satisfy her, but maybe she could soothe the growing need. Chase it away, at least until morning. She thought of Lucien. She had never seen his body, but she had a fantasy in her mind of what he would look like. She rocked her hips, biting her lip as the little release of pleasure only built her growing momentum. It seemed to only make her hunger worse. She groaned, rolling on her back as she stared up at the ceiling.

She felt something new. Some new desire filled her chest. It was raw and jagged. It sunk its teeth into her and she purred, letting the new sensation stroke her up and down. Up and down, and then Elain realized, this desire was not her own. She popped her eyes open in surprise, as she pieced together what was happening. She was feeling Lucien’s arousal down the bond. And he was…taking care of himself.

It was still her imagination, but she could see him more clearly now. He was naked, lying on his back in bed, stroking his erection in his fist, his head thrown back with his eyes closed shut.

Elain bunched the bottom of her nightgown in her fists, pulling it up and over her breasts. She usually didn’t wear underwear to bed, and she immediately slid her fingers through her folds. She was soaking wet, her day-long arousal making her slick and ready. She explored first, feeling how swollen she had become, toying with her entrance as she tweaked one of her nipples, until she focused on the spot that she knew would take her all the way. She rubbed her clit slowly, more than familiar now with how much pressure and speed she needed. She could make this quick. If she could feel him, she knew he would be able to feel her. It terrified and excited her all at once.

It was different this time. It felt like she had an audience, and it made her even more sensitive. She stroked her clit faster and faster, already a surge building inside of her. She could feel Lucien peaking too, his energy ferocious and needy. But just as she approached the edge of oblivion, she suddenly hit a wall. Her acceleration stopped and she petered out.

“No,” she whined, and she tore her nightgown over her head. She still ached, having the distinct need to be filled, and filled by something big. Something that was just on the other side of the bond, still edging on the brink.

She felt desperate. She knew she wasn’t thinking straight, but she had been dealing with all of this on her own for two, long, excruciating years. Her body was not her own as it tugged on the bond.

Lucien winnowed in front of her bed in an instant, completely naked. His eyes trailed over her body, drinking her in before he prowled forward on his hands and knees across the bed. His body was even better than she imagined. All lean muscles and broad, thick shoulders and biceps. Elain held her breath as he hovered over her, and she darted her sight down, taking in that thick cock that stood in attention against his flat abs. He didn’t speak, and he didn’t touch her, as he waited for her to make the first move.

She snatched him by the back of his head and pulled his face down to kiss him. She poured her desperation into that kiss. The need for him that never stopped bleeding. The pain of her own stubbornness, of her fear and her reluctance. How she couldn’t bring herself to think of what a first step might be. What knowing him would do to her. How she understood that after just one touch, she would be his forever. How she kept herself at a distance, not ready for forever yet.

But oh, she had to be ready now, didn’t she?

Her kiss was a signal for Lucien to finally let go. He kissed her with tongue, diving and lapping at hers, showing her exactly what the promise of his body held. His mouth never left hers as he slid his fingers through her slit, picking up where she left off as he circled her clit until she clung to his shoulders, and he swallowed her cry of ecstasy while she climaxed against his hand.

As Elain came down from her high, the aching, desperate need was gone, satiated by Lucien’s expert fingers. But a new temptation cast a spell over her. She hooked her knees over Lucien’s hips, crossing her legs behind him as she pulled him flush against her sex. As Lucien tore his mouth away from hers, she chased after him with her tongue, swiping a lick over his teeth and lips. He dropped his face to the crook of her neck, inhaling with a deep sniff, before groaning and pulling his hips back. He reached a hand between them, lining his cock up at her entrance.

He didn’t push inside of her immediately, and Elain grew impatient with his hesitancy. She practically growled, tightening her legs around his ass and pushing him forward.

She only took moments to adjust before Lucien quickened his thrusts. They both knew this would be fast, neither of them considering taking it slow. This wasn’t about learning each other's bodies. This was about soothing a burn. Elain grabbed a fist full of Lucien’s hair, tugging him down so that he could kiss her again. She wanted him to fill her mouth as well as her pussy. He pounded into her, his hard, fast movements building her up again, this time to a peak fiercer and more dangerous. Elain realized she was meeting his thrusts too, jutting her hips forward so that her clit grinded against his pelvis. She forgot about being quiet, and as her orgasm crashed through her, the most feral wail rang out of her throat. Lucien groaned as he collapsed on top of her, chanting the word “Fuck” over and over into her ear.

Elain loosened the grip on his hair, running her hands over his scalp in a gentle caress. Her entire body tingled, a hazy, blissful fog making her forget that she and Lucien had barely spoken ten words to each other since they met. She cradled him, loving the way he felt still hard inside of her. Once the haze faded, she knew they were in for the most awkward pillow talk of all time. But for now, she basked in the moment, feeling whole inside her body for the first time.

Kiss prompts.

#elucien #elain archeron #elain x lucien #lucien vanserra #pro elucien #elucien fanfiction #elucien smut #kiss asks #ask games #okay but everyone should be proud of me #because i actually wrote a smut scene in 1500 words #i deserve an award

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bunny-eats-fox · 1 year

Text

heart on my sleeve

miyamura izumi

wc: 4700 warnings: female brash/loud/confident reader ; high school romance ; confession an: my second hormiya story! i love him 🥺 enjoy~

-------

It happened a week before you officially started your second year of high school in a completely new, unfamiliar town.

You strolled through the park to get used to your way around the town. However, since it was already 8:40 p.m. and thus dark, you didn’t pay much attention to your surroundings any longer and instead you scrolled through your phone. Your long, painted fingernails tapping on the screen was the only sound that disturbed the otherwise peaceful quiescence.

That’s when something different suddenly ripped apart that silence.

“Ooiii, sexy lady, what are you doing here this late, hm?”, a complete stranger asked and stood up from one of the benches.

Immediately, the disgust showed on your face and you thought ignoring him was the way to go. Hence, you didn’t answer and hastily walked past him. The young man, however, didn’t stop and instead, he followed you while spouting nonsense like, “Come on, you’re suuuuper erotic, you’ve just waited for someone to pick you up, right? Don’t be shy now.”

You didn’t really know what that idiot meant; you literally wore a hoodie and short pants with some stockings. There was nothing revealing or tantalizing about your outfit. Even if you had chosen to wear something more saucy it wouldn’t have made this interaction any better or more acceptable.

Sadly, ignoring him didn’t help and despite your usual short-temper, he was still a guy probably much stronger than you. Hence, while you were boiling inside and so close to exploding, you opted for something else when you saw another dark figure walking in the park. It was the only way to get out of this now.

As you walked even quicker, you could finally properly make out the unfamiliar figure was another man, probably also in his teens, thus you started running towards him. Now, you only had to pray he wasn’t a creep either, but you hoped for the best here.

“Daaarling~ you’re finally here!”, you chirped ecstatically and glomped a complete stranger, “I missed you so much, you kept me waiting!”

That stranger was no other than Miyamura. Despite his initial shock, because suddenly a girl hung onto his arm and pressed into him like crazy, when he looked at your distressed face, he immediately knew this wasn’t some joke. And before he could say something, the young man from before appeared as well and he started cursing, “Fucking bimbo. Why are you dressed like that if you have a boyfriend, hah Bitch?! Hoe!”

Even though his knees were shaking a little, Izumi didn’t think twice when he pushed you behind him further so the man couldn’t look at you anymore. As he desperately searched for the right words to say, the way he glared at the guy must have been scary enough.

“Whatever, fucking pavement princess.”

Then the guy finally left.

“Pavement princess…? What the fuck!?”, you growled to yourself as you really had to hold back not to curse loudly - if that creep would hear and turn back, things would become very messy.

Instead, you finally looked up to the boy you had glomped.

“I thought my heart was about to give in.”, Izumi gasped as he clutched his chest, visibly scared but also relieved.

And when your eyes met, a strong “badump” in your chest caught you off-guard for a second. That he was scared but still stood in front of you and saved you was seriously admirable and the stranger wasn’t even that bad looking either, rather the opposite. For a moment, Izumi and you stared at each other, before you realized you hadn’t said anything and was still glued to his arm. That was embarrassing.

“Ah! I’m so sorry I suddenly did that and thank you so much for saving me!”, you hastily let go of his arm and stumbled back a little so you could bow properly.

“No, no. Please, I’m so glad it somehow worked out.”, he sighed in relief and then smiled nervously.

Another “badump” in your chest had your knees weak. He was so… handsome and yet so pretty too? The gorgeous stranger was exactly your type. For a girl you had always been taller than most of your female classmates since you almost reached 170cm, hence why you had always liked lanky guys the most. You were almost as tall as him. However, right when you wanted to open your mouth again to introduce yourself and also possibly get his name, your shrill ringtone echoed through the night which made both of you jump and him gasp. You couldn’t help but find that cute.

“Papa? Sorry, sorry, I’m on my way home already. I’m coming!”, then you hung up and realized: Hold on… you didn’t know where your new apartment complex even was and you might have gotten lost in the park.

“Uhm… do you… perhaps know which way this is?”, you looked up to Izumi and showed him your address on your phone. Sure, this could have seriously backfired, but you didn’t get those vibes from Miyamura.

“Hm? Ah… I live there too.”

“Heh?! Seriously??”

“Mh, 7th floor. Let’s go.”

Today was seriously your lucky day and just like that, you got to spend more time with the pretty boy.

Safe to say, when you found out his name and where he attended school, you thought your perfect high school romance unfolded right in front of you. Things couldn’t have turned out any better…

Is what you thought.

But you thought wrong.

You didn’t mind that Izumi changed his appearance in school, you still found him cute and handsome! Plus, you were very happy when you got the chance to walk to school with him due to you two living in the same apartment complex. Destiny couldn’t have been any nicer to you when you even got into the same class as him, however, the first day, you had already realized people treated him… differently.

Maybe it was because you were “the new kid” but people naturally flocked to you and guys were interested in you, despite your efforts to just look and act normal. Since you were naturally just loud and confident, it got you attention. Though you never shied away from interacting with Miyamura the second you had a chance to.

Izumi was happy you didn’t ignore him, despite the fact that it also didn’t go unnoticed by the people around you. It was only the third day of the new school year and he had to listen to some guys giggling in the corner how the new girl should seriously stay away from a gloomy otaku like him or your reputation would go down the drain as well. That’s when it hit him again that he was simply not in your league at all. You only knew them for three days and you fit right in. Well, he couldn’t blame them, you were just really… bubbly and nice. So the last thing he wanted was for you to get dragged down by talking to him.

However, you were either oblivious to the fact that everyone whispered behind your back, or you seriously didn’t care, because you never stopped engaging with your crush. Izumi didn’t know what it was, but he was just thankful, because for once, he felt like he didn’t want to be invisible anymore as he enjoyed himself quite a lot when he talked to you.

As for you… You did notice. Even your new “friends” had warned you already that being too fixated on Miyamura could have a bad influence on you, since you were the new kid and all. But you didn’t care. Not at all. Honestly, you wore your heart on your sleeve like an idiot. That had always been your problem, you were even aware of that yourself, but you couldn’t stop it. People noticed the big fat crush you had on him quite quickly.

And Izumi also swiftly realized that this new happiness he felt whenever he was with you didn’t just came from the conversations he had with you. Although, as weeks passed, he realized another thing: His classmates and other students in your grade noticed you as well. And before he even had a chance to work out his own feelings towards you properly, he had to witness you getting confessed to.

“Oi, oi, oi!!! Sugimori’s confessing to (Y/n)-chan right now!” Miyamura heard a student yell through the class.

“That bastard it hasn’t even been two months!” Someone else laughed as they rushed to the window where they could watch the corner where you and that Sugimori guy met.

Of course, how could Izumi even think he was the only one interested in you. Probably due to his own insecurities, he took your kindness just as that: Kindness. You struck up a conversation with him because that night he was the only one available and now you were practically neighbors, or at least only three floors apart. Miyamura was certain that you weren’t interested in him like that, hence he gave up before he even started.

Things like that kept happening in the following weeks. More often than not, guys would ask you out, but no one was ever successful. Well, most knew why that was. It seemed everyone but the boy in question knew about your feelings towards him. Hence the other boys in your second grade that had a crush on you, took it upon themselves to silence the man that stood in their ways way too many times.

“Miiiyaamuuraaaa-kuuun?” A chill ran down his spine just from how his name was chanted like that. And Izumi’s senses didn’t disappoint when three boys suddenly came up to him in the hallway.

Before he could even say anything, he was grabbed and pulled along. Despite his instincts to immediately resort to punching the living shit out of them, Izumi had to realize that against three boys, two of them even from the soccer club, he didn’t stand a chance. So all he could do was get dragged along. Did anyone help him? Of course not. Most students started whispering but turned away and thus, he landed in the gym equipment room – literally. They threw him against the cart full of soft floor mats.

“Now… let’s talk about (Y/n)-chan, shall we?”

One of them said while the other two closed the heavy door.

“Hmmm?”

You stood in front of Izumi’s desk, wondering where the boy went. Usually, after you grabbed lunch from the cafeteria, you’d come back to your crush waiting for you, so you could enjoy your lunch someplace else.

Though this time, he was just gone without a word. Sure, he wasn’t obliged to tell you every little thing he did, but it was still a bit strange. Especially, since the day you had started your second year at that school, you had always eaten lunch together.

“Ah, (Y/n)? If you’re searching for Miyamura-kun…” And then they told you what they had seen, how he got dragged outside and that it looked really serious and not good at all.

“Someone has seen them going in the direction of the boy’s gym, but-“

That was all you needed to know as you put the food down onto his desk and you rushed outside of the classroom. When you heard “Sugimori, Tachibana and Sunao”, you knew that Izumi was in trouble. You remembered those three names; you had rejected all three of them at one point in the last weeks. Two of them were in your class, so they had probably noticed how you openly crushed on Izumi and weren’t too happy about it.

“Shit, shit, shit, fuck this shit!”, you cursed under your breath as you hastily ran through the hallway and down the stairs.

Once you ran into the gym you heard some gurgling and coughing behind the heavy steel door to the equipment room, thus you rushed over.

“Miyamura?!”, you yelled his name when you opened the door, ready to fight whoever it was that tormented your crush, however…

Izumi was gasping, visibly out of breath as he sat on two of them, his knuckles bleeding. Here you thought he needed to be saved, but in reality… he may have been lanky and looked somewhat weak, but he certainly knew how to pack a punch.

When your crush turned to the third boy, he only winced and pressed himself further into the next corner, holding up his hands. Until they all looked at you and he dared to run past Miyamura and his two friends, right behind your back.

“He is crazy! He just started attacking us out of nowhere. We just wanted to talk. He is violent! Look at what he did to them!”, he shouted and pointed to the bleeding knuckles and further down to the bleeding faces of Sunao and Tachibana.

“I didn’t, they-“, Izumi immediately tried to defend himself, but was cut off.

“Do you really have a crush on someone like that?! He’s a psycho!”, Sugimori continued and finally revealed your feelings to Miyamura.

Who, when his attacker said that, Izumi was completely confused. A crush? You? On Him??? Never. He was sure you would deny it with every fiber of your body, but instead…

“I do! Do you have a fucking problem with that, hah?! What is this shit?? Just because I rejected you, what are you, fucking 12?!”, you shouted as well now.

Though all Izumi understood was: You… had a crush on him? He didn’t even have enough time to realize that when he got dragged along for the second time that day, though this time, when you grabbed his wrist and pulled him with you away from the scene, he didn’t struggle and followed quietly.

He simply followed you through the hallways – once again, students watched intensely but didn’t say anything. That was honestly very awkward. Hence why Miyamura was so happy when you finally reached the nurse’s office and you were finally freed from the nosy, judgmental stares of everyone.

You pushed him onto the bed before you went around the office and grabbed a few necessary things. Nothing was said, the air was heavy and he wondered if you could literally hear his heartbeat because of how loud and quick it was.

“You’re… pretty good at this.”, he finally broke the silence when you were in the middle of cleaning his bruised, bleeding knuckles. Even though his hand was shaking a little and all he wanted to do was talk about your “confession”.

“Hahaha yeah… I told you about my big brother, right? When he was in high school, he would always get into fights. It’s probably because of him that I lash out so easily and have a short-temper haha. Since my parents work a lot, even on the weekends or during holidays, they were working almost every day…So uh, long story short even though I was three years younger, I was the only one who could help him with these things so I got pretty good at it.”

Then quietness engulfed you two once again as he watched you clean the rest of his hand, the cut lip and also the cut on his cheek. Once you were done, you sat down beside him on the bed.

“I’m sorry, Miyamura.”

“Hah? Uh, no! It’s not your fault, don’t apologize.”, he immediately said and gestured with his hands.

“Well, I do feel like it is.”, you started nervously playing with your, “You know… I wear my heart on my sleeve, I know it’s bad and such a nuisance. Because of that, they knew how I felt about you and targeted you... I’m sorry.”

“No, no, no really, it’s fine!” Then silence again as he nervously looked to the side.

“So… it’s true… ?”

“Hm?” You looked up, confused for a moment, but when he just lightly blushed and avoided your eyes, you knew what he meant.

“Mh.”, you confirmed and nodded, “I like you. From the moment we met. At first, I just thought you were cool because you saved me and it definitely helped that you’re my type. But… on our way to school, in school, our way back and all the times when I get a chance to talk and be with you, I just enjoy myself so much. Really, it was inevitable that I would fall for you, haha. I just really… really like you.”

You finally confessed and then looked back to meet his eyes. At first, you weren’t embarrassed, but when your crush blushed even harder, it suddenly got to you as well. You had just confessed. Spilled your feelings like coffee onto a table. Now, your face grew warmer as well as you quickly looked away and at the walls.

“Ahh hahaha b-but you already knew, right? Haha I mean like I already said I wear my heart on my sleeve so it must have been obvious, haha so don’t worry, it’s okay if you don’t feel the same. I’ll be happy if we can just stay friends.”, you nervously scratched your neck and hastily tried to explain yourself. Since Miyamura had never reacted, you guess he just didn’t feel the same.

“I like you…”

“Eh?” It was so quiet you thought it was your wishful thinking.

“I like you, (Y/n)-san. I… never realized.”, Izumi said quietly as he leaned forward a little so his hair mostly covered his embarrassed, red face because he couldn’t bare to look at you right now.

“Eh? You didn’t?! Heeeh? Miyamura… you’re quite dense…”

At that point you thought he might burn to ashes with how on fire his face and ears looked. My. You didn’t know someone could blush that much, it was really cute.

“Mn. I really am…” He nodded and then finally dared to look up to confirm it once more while he looked at you straight in the eyes, “I like you, (Y/n)-san.”

“Oh… So you like me too…” For a moment, you were too speechless, before it suddenly sunk in fully: Izumi liked you too.

And then, you jumped up from the bed and spun around, “Wait, really, like… seriously?!”

Even though Miyamura still looked bashful, he still smiled and nodded. Before he knew it, all he could see was white as his back hit the matrass and he stared at the ceiling. For a brief second, he was confused because you suddenly tackled him, though not for long as he started laughing and returning the tight hug quickly.

It still felt surreal, but the way your hands shook as you grabbed him tightly and snuggled him was confirmation enough that he was, in fact, not dreaming. He had a girlfriend now.

„Izuuuummiiiii-kuuun~“, your whine got no reaction out of him, so you continued, “Izumi-kyun?…Izumi-dono? Izumi-sama? Izumi-saaaan? Izumi? Zuzu? Izu? Iz-“

Finally, after you had seemingly “abused” him long enough with those nicknames, your boyfriend looked up (a cute blush adorning his cheeks since he still wasn’t used to you calling him by his first name) and shut your cute little mouth with his hand.

“You know, (Y/n), I’m really trying to concentrate here.”, he said sternly, though as you saw the corner of his mouth twitch, you knew exactly that he didn’t mean it that seriously.

So, you pouted for a second and then, to free yourself from his hand above your mouth, you flicked your tongue against the inside of his hand. All Miyamura did, however, was raise his eyebrow in amusement, completely unimpressed by your action. You were only dating for three weeks but… he was already used to your shenanigans, hence the hand stayed.

As you playfully glared at him, because he wouldn’t free your mouth, you wanted to change your tactics, but before you could even try, you both heard the sliding door to your classroom open and a few of your classmates came in. When they looked at you, he immediately withdrew his hand and buried his nose back into your English notebook. It certainly didn’t help that they were giggling as they grab their stuff and headed out again.

Of course, both of you still heard their cackling in the hallway and a few words like “cringe” and “embarrassing” also stuck out. It wasn’t something new per se. The moment people found out and you didn’t deny it, everyone had a few things to say.

“Tch.”, you clicked your tongue, “Bitches.”

“Don’t mind them, Izumi. Seems like some people just got mentally stuck in preschool.”, you sighed annoyingly and then turned back to him.

Well… he was happy you didn’t find the need to hide the fact that you were dating, even though he would have understood. Your classmates weren’t the only ones who found you were way out of his league after all, but then again…

Once you realized Izumi kind of got lost in his own thoughts, you let your fingers walk across the table to his free hand. The bruises and wounds from three weeks ago had thankfully healed fully, thus you gently nudged him. Thankfully, Izumi returned the gesture and slid his fingers between your own to intertwine them.

“What are you thinking about, hm?”

When he suddenly stood up, you were a little surprised, but even more so when he leaned over the table to press his lips against your own for a quick, soft kiss. It melted your heart right on the spot.

“Nothing much.”

“Oh my gosh, hurry up with this thing so we can go home already and enjoy the weekend!”, you groaned, “slapped” his hand away and buried your face in your crossed arms. You were so going to make out with him when you were finally home.

“Hahahaha yeah, yeah I’ll hurry up if you stop distracting me.”, he laughed and went back to copying your notes from class.

Later that night, he came into your bedroom, a towel in his hand as he dried his freshly washed hair. You lay in your bed with your phone in your hands and only looked up shortly when he entered. Though it was enough to gift him a small smile before you turned back to your social media app. Even that small smile was enough and his heart fluttered. During those moments, he wanted to let the world know even more how much he liked you and that you were his no matter what anyone else said or laughed about.

Hence why he finally made up his mind.

“Ne, (Y/n)?” He sat down onto your bed and slightly leaned in.

“Un?” You paused your video and looked up.

“Wanna cut my hair?”

“Huh?! Ah, uh, fuck YEAH?! But… why all of a sudden?”

“It’s not that sudden. I’ve been thinking about it for a while now and… since you said you want to become a hairdresser, I thought you might want to practice?”

“Fuck yeah.”, you immediately sat up full of energy, “But… until now I’ve been practicing on my brother whenever he lets his hair grow out because he’ll always get a buzz cut anyways, but what if I mess up your hair?” Now you got a little nervous and you started twiddling your thumbs.

“That’s okay. I can get it fixed tomorrow so I won’t look like a hot mess on Monday.”, he reassured you with a smile.

“Mn… Okay, then I’ll give it a try, though…”, then you reached out and brushed through his long, damp hair with your fingers, “I’ll miss it.”

“Mhmh, you liked it?”, he chuckled, which made you pout.

“Obviously? With how much my hands are in your hair, shouldn’t that tell you everything?”, you giggled together with him, “Plus…”

Now you got embarrassed though as you thought about your next words, hence you hastily looked away and stopped.

“Hm?” Izumi cocked his head, his gorgeous blue eyes shimmering with curiosity.

“Mhhhh…”, you grumbled shyly and then mumbled, “When we make out it’s nice to hold on…Or when we cuddle and I can feel it on my skin ‘n stuff…”

Now, you’ve done it again. His face resembled a tomato once more. Despite the fact that Miyamura was quite straight forward when you two were alone (which surprised you at first, but a very pleasant surprise), that statement was too much it seemed.

“Err uhm, but I’m totally for it, if that’s what you want.”, you swiftly continued and gestured with your hands a little.

Inevitably, Izumi had to smile.

“Yeah.” Nodding, he leaned in further to steal a little kiss before he stood up to get your chair.

In the meantime, with a fluttering heart, you stood up as well and rummaged through your drawer to get your scissors and other tools you needed. It would be a good learning experience, but you sure hoped you wouldn’t fuck up his hair too badly. After all… imagining Izumi with a buzz cut was a little wild. However, at the same time also very funny, hence you couldn’t hold back the laughter that suddenly erupted from your mouth.

“Hm? What’s so funny?”

“Hahaha, sorry, uhm, I just hope I don’t fuck this up, because… Izumi… imagining you with a buzz cut…”, then you laughed again and tried to stop as you pressed your knuckles against your lips, shakily saying, “It’s just so funny.”

“Ahaha yeah.”, he nervously chuckled, “I’d rather not do that if it can be avoided haha…”

“Don’t worry, I won’t betray your trust, Izumi.”

You finally got yourself together and got behind him.

“I’ll be very, very careful and only take a few millimeters off at a time and I won’t cut it too short so there’s still something for the barber to work with if it needs fixing.”

He listened to you talk as you started sectioning off his hair. Until, a few moments later, you suddenly stopped with a small “Oh.”

“Oh?”

Out of the blue, he felt your arms around his shoulders and your weight on top of them as you leaned against him. While you cuddled your head against his, he wondered what just happened.

“Soo… maybe you can wait just one more week?”

“Err, I mean… sure. But why?”, he asked, a little confused.

You didn’t answer him for a few seconds and he was about to turn his head to directly look at you when you finally raised your head and leaned in to his ear to whisper, “I miiiight have given you a hickey when we made out earlier… And it’s maaaaybe just quite visibly when you put your hair up…or cut it… ehe…”

“Oh.” That was all he said.

“I’m sorry, Izumi.”

“No, it’s okay. I’m… surprised I didn’t see it when I took the shower.”

“Ah, well it’s right here.” You pushed your fingertip against the blue mark you had left underneath and slightly behind his ear. That made him flinch and whine. That was cute.

“You can’t see it when your hair’s down so that’s why. So you also don’t have to worry about anyone else seeing it. Sor- Wah?!”

Completely unprepared, Izumi had grabbed your hand and pulled you forward and into his lap. The scissors and clips fell from your hands onto the floor due to the sudden movement. And the look on his face told you he was not amused, rather… it looked impish.

“Ne… (Y/n), since your hair also covers up that area, it’s only fair if I do the same, don’t you think?”, he smiled mischievously and you knew then and there you were doomed.

“What? No, I mean, it’s- Yaahhh Izumi!”, you squeed at the end when he grabbed your thighs and carried you the one step back to your bed in which you both then fell.

A playful fight started which contained rolling around in your bed, pushing the pillows and blanket down together with a few plushies you kept on there. At the end, however, you gave up and before you knew it, the fight had turned into tangled limbs and inevitably also tangled mouths as a second make out session started.

Well… at least you could enjoy his long hair for just a tad bit longer now.

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all characters canonically under 18 are always aged up in nsfw scenarios ; english is not my native language so i apologize for any mistakes

#horimiya #miyamura x reader #izumi miyamura #horimiya x reader

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