#so hit search out of curiosity

[glowingkorbat]

[crookedfandomquill]

This is very situational, and sadly may not be realistic for everyone, but I need y’all to understand that a very important part of political activism is fucking talking to your conservative or moderate friends and family.

My dad voted for Trump in 2016. He’s a middle class white evangelical from Arkansas. He raised me with conservative Christian values, just like his parents raised him. When he voted Trump, he was holding his nose, but he didn’t feel too bad about it, and went on to vote red down the ticket in the 2018 midterms, as well.

But I started college in 2017. Higher education and independence changed everything for me, and I went home over holidays and summers with fire in my belly and a thousand arguments ready at the drop of a hat, to my father’s dismay.

I remember crying in my room after emotional, intense arguments with him. I told him over and over that I felt betrayed by his choice to vote for a man who admitted to sexually assaulting women, who built his platform on dehumanizing immigrants and the disabled, who spread overtly-racist rhetoric, who flouted the values of kindness and self-discipline that I’d been raised on. And my dad always had some justification about the “greater good”: fighting against abortion, bolstering the economy, getting other Christian politicians into office.

But over time, as we grew further apart and I lost my will to discuss anything with him at all, he softened. He started asking me why I thought the way I did about the things we disagreed about. He would listen to my answers without interruption, and mull them over afterward instead of expressing his own opinion. And all the while, he watched the Trump presidency become cruel and absurd and devastating.

The first time he openly expressed regret to me, I had come home for a weekend after Kavanaugh was confirmed to SCOTUS. My dad realized he had helped elect a man who preyed on women… and that man had opened the door to more predators. I can’t tell you what it felt like for him to admit that he’d made a mistake, not just in voting for Trump but in defending him for so long. We kept arguing, but it was more debating than fighting. I knew he was capable of seeing my side of things, even if it took a while, and he knew I wasn’t just a sensitive college student with shallow new ideas about the world.

And then 2020 hit. Specifically, George Floyd was murdered, and the events that followed played out on the national stage. My dad was incredibly shaken by it. He asked me if I had any books from college about racial issues. I loaned him The New Jim Crow, one of the required readings for my Race and the Law class. Then I gave him Just Mercy. Then he watched the documentary 13th. Then he joined a racial harmony group he learned about through one of the few Black families at our church and insisted our whole family come. He held up signs at a protest against Confederate monuments in our conservative southern town. In three years, he went from defending Trump’s comments about “Black-on-Black crime” to publicly advocating for racial justice and opposing the death penalty.

We went together to vote in the 2020 primaries. I couldn’t help asking who he’d voted for; I didn’t even know if he’d asked for the Republican or Democratic ticket. He admitted he’d voted for Bernie. fucking. Sanders, then made me promise not to tell my grandma he’d voted liberal. When the election rolled around in November, he voted Biden. I’m sure he held his nose to do it, just like he held his nose voting in 2016. But I know he doesn’t regret it.

I am, of course, unbelievably lucky to have a parent who loved me enough, and was empathetic enough, to choose his relationship with me over his strongly-held opinions. He kept searching for truth because, as much as he’ll deny it, he’s a very smart and curious person. No degree of intelligence or curiosity makes you immune to propaganda, especially if you were raised not to question the party line. It’s easy to dismiss our conservative, conspiracy-pilled loved ones as stupid, hypocritical, and cruel. Sometimes they are. But sometimes they aren’t. Sometimes they will bend to keep their relationships from breaking. Sometimes, if they can be made to understand that their beliefs and actions are harming someone they love, they will make concessions. And sometimes they just need one person in their life to put a foot down, to be vulnerable and assertive and argumentative, to bring the impact of their politics close to home.

As the most important election of our lifetimes approaches, do not put peace over progress. If you have someone like my dad, someone who is good-willed and smart and loves you more than their own opinions, tell them how you feel. Tell them what their choices will mean for you, for your friends, for your community. Tell them what they could lose: your trust, your affection, your respect. Don’t avoid conflict if it could be productive. Because my conflict with my dad didn’t just win him over–it won over my moderate mom and one of my conservative brothers. And it put us in community with other like-minded people and led my parents to a healthier and kinder faith.

All of this to say, there is hope in conflict. There is hope in our relationships with people who think differently from us. There is hope in exposing your fear and anger and pain to people you love. And hope is a form of activism.

[vipgyu]

nice boys don’t kiss like that.

summary — when your former rival chances upon your diary and reads all the unpleasant things you’ve written about him, he takes it upon himself to change your mind.

pairing — kim mingyu x fem!reader genres — fluff, suggestive; rivals to lovers, developing relationship word count — 3.3k

warnings — profanity, making out, suggestive innuendos & jokes, i would probably rate this 16+ author’s note — this fic is inspired by this scene from bridget jones’s diary. thanks for reading!

It is on a twilit Saturday evening, at precisely 7:01 P.M, that Kim Mingyu is accosted by a notebook for the first time in his life.

He lets out a startled grunt and finds himself with an armful of things—a denim jacket, a crumpled grocery shopping list, an empty box of Tic Tacs, a woollen beanie with a questionable brown stain he thinks is ketchup; all presumably from whatever depths of your drawer he can see you hunched over, searching for something that remains stubbornly elusive. The offensive projectile whizzes past his shoulder and lands on the polished wooden floor with a thud.

Mingyu stands at the doorway to your bedroom, having bypassed the living room and hallway that leads to the kitchen in favour of pressing heated kisses to your cheeks and collarbones. He watches you, bemused. A few weeks ago, he might’ve laughed at your frazzled state with derision. Now, he still wants to laugh, but more in an affectionate way.

You turn around swiftly, nearly tripping on a stray stocking on the floor, and he bites back a smile when you mumble a string of curse words under your breath. 

“Hi,” you say, chest heaving. “I’m really sorry.”

Then you slam the door shut on his face.

Well, Mingyu thinks. This is the first time a girl’s closed the door when I’m in her apartment.

Faced with nothing else to do except wait for your arrival, he drops the Tic Tac box on the floor, hangs your jacket and beanie on the back of the sofa, and almost stubs his toe on the corner of the notebook.

Wincing at the close call, Mingyu glares at the book like it’s the cause of all his troubles. DIARY, it reads, embossed in ornate gold letters. The cover is a rich shade of red, rough and leather-bound. He picks it up; it’s rather heavy, and judging by the frayed corners and the random bits of paper poking out of the sides, it seems to be quite old too. Regardless, it is well-cherished—he knows this because he knows you, and you’re the kind of person who wears your heart on your sleeve.

Which is why he knows opening it is a bad idea. 

Mingyu shrugs and places the book on the coffee table, taking a seat on the plush, olive green sofa opposite it. He leans his elbows on his knees and interlaces his fingers under his chin. From the inside of your room, he can hear muffled screaming—should he be worried? The screaming stops. Mingyu lets his tense shoulders relax.

His eyes zero in on your diary once more. He shouldn’t open it—he really, really shouldn’t. It would be a horrible breach of your privacy. Your trust in him would be broken forever, and even if he somehow manages to win it back, it will always be a stain in the fabric of your still-developing relationship.

But.

One tiny peek can’t hurt, right? He’s only waiting for you to come out of your room, after all. Just one little look, and then he’ll close the book immediately. It can’t possibly hurt. Curiosity is both a blessing and a vice, he figures, and since he’s already stacked up on vices, there is no harm in adding to his karmic points.

So he picks up your diary and flips to a random page, freezing momentarily when he hears an irritated grunt and the sound of something hitting the floor from inside your room. Your handwriting is a lot messier than it usually is; you probably save your best penmanship for official things, and your personal diary is not one of them. That, or you were just frustrated.

12th June

I fucking hate Kim Mingyu. I hope I never have to see him and his stupid handsome obnoxious face EVER AGAIN. I’m so DONE with him.

Mingyu’s cheeks prickle with heat. He’s thoroughly invested now. He turns to another page.

14th June

Ran into KMG again today. He spilled coffee all over me what else is new but. he actually apologised!!! Crazy. Maybe he was just in a good mood. Either way, my new blouse is ruined so fuck him.

The strangest thing is that Mingyu actually remembers that day vividly. You were wearing a gorgeous cream-coloured blouse, and he was so caught up in staring at you talking animatedly with your supervisor that he zoned out completely and accidentally spilled his coffee on you because he tripped over his shoelaces. Now, knowing that your blouse was new at the time brings up a slight twinge of guilt. He’ll ask you about it later.

22nd June

KMG is actually…… kinda nice? He supported me in the meeting today with the clients when they were being so tiresome. He has a nice smile I guess.

Mingyu smiles widely. 

23rd June

Nevermind. I take back everything I said. Kim Mingyu is a prat with zero social skills. I mean, would it kill him to say hello back??? I get that he’s busy but i thought we’d made progress. One thing is for sure. Kim Mingyu is NOT nice. Not even a little bit.

His smile falters.

The next page contains a similar anecdote—something about how he always vehemently disagrees with everything you say, and how despite his good looks he was a complete and utter asshole. Further investigation reveals the same thing: you hate Kim Mingyu with a burning passion.

And… Well, he couldn’t lie and say the feeling wasn’t mutual at one point in time—but it has mellowed down since then, gently and slowly, like a fallen leaf being carried by a soft wind. There came a day where Mingyu found himself glaring at you, not with disdain in his eyes, but with a steady thrum in his chest where his heart lay. Later, he would realise that he didn’t hate you—not even a little bit.

He assumed you felt the same way. Why else would your smirks, so full of malice, melt into grins that could light up a whole town? Why else would you agree to go on a date with him when he asked you out, one day, after work, tripping over his words like an elementary schoolboy? Why else would you invite him home and ask him to spend the night?

Of course, it doesn’t explain why you’ve locked yourself up in your bedroom currently (frankly, he’s a bit befuddled about that). But the sentiment must still be there.

It’s a diary, he reasons. 

It’s your diary, his brain screams back, and that’s the real issue here, isn’t it?

Diaries are full of crap, anyway, he thinks to himself.

Diaries contain the Real Thoughts And Emotions of a human being, his brain hollers back.

Mind swirling, Mingyu closes the book and places it back on the coffee table, barely aware of his movements. Have you been lying to him? No, there’s absolutely no way—he trusts you far more than that, and besides, what would you even lie to him about? There are no benefits to stringing him along, and you’re not the kind of person who would do something like that, anyway.

You must have had a change of heart, then. That’s the only conclusion he can think of. Your diary entries come to a standstill after 27th June, which means you haven’t opened it in a while. It’s also around the same time you stopped picking fights with each other. Something must have changed by then; Mingyu is glad it did.

Satisfied with his deduction, Mingyu stuffs his hands in his pockets and crosses his ankles together. Behind your bedroom door, you remain suspiciously silent. He considers knocking on the door once to make sure you’re okay—or if you need any help, because staying put inside your room for over twenty minutes is certainly not normal when you have a guest and potential boyfriend over. 

Almost as if you’ve heard his thoughts, the door to your room swings open. You stand at the doorway, breathing heavily.

“Hey,” Mingyu says, quickly standing up. “Everything good?”

You beam at him. “Perfect. Sorry to have kept you waiting, I—”

Your gaze drops to the coffee table, landing on your diary. Mingyu keeps his gaze fixed on you. You look back at him, lips parted. 

“Um,” you begin. “It’s— It’s just a diary.”

“Clearly.” Mingyu fights back a smile.

You chew your bottom lip nervously. “Did you read it?”

“I did,” he confirms, nodding. “I’m sorry. I was just curious—”

You groan, lifting your hands and covering your face with your palms. “Fuck.”

Mingyu reaches out and encircles your wrists with his fingers, gently tugging your hands away from your face. He finds it oddly endearing. “It’s only a diary. I’m sorry I read it. I shouldn’t have.”

“I don’t care about that. You… you probably read all the horrible, mean things I wrote about you.”

“Well,” he says, shrugging a little, “some of the entries were definitely… interesting.”

You blink. Unable to help himself, Mingyu drops a light kiss to the tip of your nose.

“I don’t hate you, you know,” you tell him.

“Mhm.”

“I’m serious.”

“Mhm.”

“Mingyu.”

“I’ll tell you what I think about your diary later, ‘kay?” he says, hooking his pinkie finger with yours. “Come with me.”

“What? Where?” Confusion paints your features.

Mingyu huffs out a laugh. “Just trust me.”

Mingyu places the brand-new diary he’d bought for you on the dining table with a flourish. “D’you have a pen?”

You eye him suspiciously, gaze darting between him and the new, dark green notebook on the table. He grins, carefree and indulgent. Still wary, you hand him a blue ballpoint pen from the pen stand placed above the drawers to the left. He hums and uncaps it.

Flipping open the book to the first page, he bends down and writes slowly.

This book belongs to Kim Mingyu and

Mingyu stops writing and holds the pen out expectantly to you. “Here. Write your name.”

Confused, but curious, you oblige. Your name, written in your handwriting, next to his own semi-legible scrawl, makes a warm, affectionate feeling bubble up inside his chest. He wonders what it would look like when both your names are signed next to each other on a marriage certificate. Then, he wonders when and where your wedding would take place. A summer wedding sounds nice, but the sweltering heat might be a bit of a problem. Winter weddings are beautiful for sure, but neither of you is a big fan of the cold.

He’s in the process of thinking of names for your children and pet dog when you break him out of his daze. 

“Hey. What’s all this about, hm?” You nudge his shoulder lightly with yours.

Mingyu says, “It’s a diary, but for both of us.”

You glance at him, eyebrows raised questioningly. He swings an arm over your shoulder and draws you closer to him, smiling when flyaway strands of your hair tickle his cheek. 

“In your old diary, it was pretty obvious you, uh, didn’t like me much,” he explains, holding up his free hand when you open your mouth to protest. “I don’t blame you. We were assholes to each other most of the time. But we’ve moved past that. At least, I hope we have.”

Your reply is instantaneous. “Of course. Of course, we have.”

Mingyu trails his fingers absent-mindedly over your arm. “Right. And… It’s kind of silly, I guess—I don’t know—but I thought—if we kept a new diary together, one that we could use to document our journey, with both our perspectives in the same place—I thought it would be nice.”

Your mouth parts and you look at him, an indiscernible expression on your face. He shifts from one foot to the other, feeling suddenly nervous. You don’t betray any hint of emotion on your face, but Mingyu’s heart hammers inside his chest. What if you think he’s being silly and overly sentimental? What if you find the idea ridiculous?

“We don’t have to if you don’t want to,” he quickly backtracks. “I know we’ve only just moved past the idea of being more than friends, but—” He stops himself.

“But…?” you gently prompt him, twisting around to see him better.

Mingyu swallows. “But I can’t imagine not being with you.”

He hears your sharp intake of breath, and in the next moment, the breath is knocked out of his lungs when you throw your arms around his neck and pull him in for a tight, rib-squeezing hug.  Automatically, his arms circle your waist, and he presses a light, barely-there kiss to the junction of your neck and jaw. 

Eyes shining happily, you pull back slightly with a wide grin on your face. “You’re so hopelessly romantic, it makes my chest hurt.”

“Consider this your trial run. If you don’t like it, I’ll stop.”

“Don’t you dare.”

He sighs, content. “Okay, I won’t.”

“What should our first diary entry be about?” you ask, loosening your hold on him.

“About how you ditched me inside your house for almost half an hour after you invited me over.” He’s only half-joking.

You look away, embarrassed and sheepish. “I can explain.”

“I’m sure you can.”

“I’m being serious, Mingyu.”

“So you’ve said,” he agrees breezily.

“Actually,” you begin, a tad shy, “I was thinking it could be about this—about how you bought us a diary and then kissed me in front of the dining table after we christened the book.”

Mingyu’s eyes widen, but before he can get a word in edgewise, your lips are already centimetres away from his. “May I?” you whisper.

“Yeah. ‘Course,” he murmurs back.

The kiss makes him feel dizzy, like he’s had one too many bottles of soda—fizzy and light-headed. Your lips are soft, mouth warm; you taste like chocolate, and he licks into your mouth desperately. His fingers dig into your waist, bunching up the material of your t-shirt, and you run your hand through his hair, tugging gently. He’s kissed you before, of course, but something about this time feels important, a core memory sort of thing. Later that night, he’ll sit beside you on your bed and watch as you write in your shared diary, and he’ll make fun of the way you chew on your pen cap when you’re thinking of what to write next and you’ll shut him up with a kiss.

But for now, he indulges himself whole-heartedly. You let out little gasps which he swallows with his mouth. He tilts his head and kisses you deeper. Only when his lungs are burning does he pull away, and even then, not without a parting peck to the space in between your eyebrows.

“Mingyu,” you say, breathless. 

“Yeah?” he responds, unable to tear his gaze off of your kiss-bitten lips.

“I really am sorry about what I wrote about you,” you apologise, looking down once and then back at him. “It’s only a diary—everyone knows diaries are full of crap.”

“I know.” Mingyu smiles tenderly. “I’m not mad.”

“You should be. I would be, if I was in your place.”

His eyes dart back to meet yours, and he grimaces. “If you really think about it, I’m the one who should be apologising, not you. I shouldn’t have read your diary, no matter how curious I was.”

“I… don’t really care about that, weirdly enough,” you say thoughtfully. “I was more worried about the fact that you thought I hated you and you were gonna leave me. Not so much about you reading the diary itself.”

“Pfft,” Mingyu says, affectionately condescending. “If I left you, where would I go?”

Your mouth parts as you stare at him, dumbfounded. “Jesus. How do you say things like that unironically?”

“I could compose whole sonnets about you and it wouldn’t be enough.”

“That’s ironic, I hope.”

He tilts his head and pulls you close. “Only one way to find out.”

When he captures your lips with his this time, it’s with colliding bodies and biting teeth. He runs his tongue across your bottom lip, and you shudder in his arms, moaning. Somehow, you stumble back into the living room, a mess of tangled limbs.

Briefly pulling away, Mingyu sits down on the same sofa he’d occupied earlier and clumsily pulls you onto his lap. You brace your hands on his shoulders for support, lifting your head up when he presses an open-mouthed kiss to your jaw.

“Fuck, Mingyu,” you gasp, eyes falling shut.

He hums against your skin. “Tell me what you were doing in your room for so long.”

“I was—ah—it’s embarrassing.”

Mingyu stops his movements. “I won’t judge you.”

“I know,” you say, teeth worrying your lower lip. “I’ll tell you someday.”

When you purse your lips, ready for him to kiss you again, Mingyu lets out a soft laugh. “Sweetheart.”

“What?” 

“I think I need to correct some of your… perceptions of me,” he murmurs, rubbing his hands up and down your back.

You furrow your eyebrows. “What?”

“I’m sorry about your blouse,” he whispers. “You looked really pretty wearing it, you know. Got distracted. Couldn’t take my eyes off you.”

“Mingyu, I don’t know what you’re talking—” You gasp when he kisses the column of your throat.

“I’m sorry for being obnoxious,” he continues, lowering his head and pressing his lips to the pulse point on your neck. “But I’m not sorry you think I’m handsome.”

“Only your face,” you mutter, but you tug on his hair to get him to tilt his head up. When he does, you kiss him again, your hands warm and placed on the junctions where his neck meets his shoulders. 

“I’ll support you in more than just meetings,” he says, pulling back. His breath ghosts over your lips, prompting a shiver to pass through your body. Your eyes widen when you finally, finally realise what he’s talking about. “I’ll tell those stupid clients to shut up and take it.”

You laugh, bright and happy, and Mingyu wants to bottle the sound up greedily. “That sounds kinda wrong,” you say.

He shrugs, his smile turning lopsided. “I’m sorry for ignoring you when you said hi to me. I won’t do it ever again.”

You laugh again, teeth flashing in the warm glow of the living room lights.

There’s an odd feeling in Mingyu’s chest—something warm and golden—something he can only describe as being terribly, hopelessly lovesick for you.

He whispers your name again, kissing the corner of your mouth. “Tell me what you were doing in your room for so long.”

You groan again, your previous amusement turning into embarrassment. Your next words are muffled by his shoulder, your lips warm against his clavicle as you mumble something only you can understand.

“What’s that? I couldn’t hear you,” Mingyu says mischievously.

 Another sound of mortification.

“I won’t laugh,” he says. “Promise.”

“Underwear,” you mumble, just loud enough for him to hear. “I was searching for a better pair of underwear than the one I had on.”

To his credit, Mingyu really doesn’t laugh. It takes a lot of effort, though, and he has to bite the inside of his cheek to prevent his giggles from escaping. 

You lean back and narrow your eyes at him. “Oh, go on. I know you’re dying to laugh.”

He shakes his head, cheeks blown out like a pufferfish. You stare at him quietly.

Minutes later, he exhales shakily. “See? I didn’t laugh. I’m a nice guy.”

His lips find yours again, slower and more languorous this time. After all, he has all the time in the world now—to hold you like this, kiss you gently—and he plans to cherish each second. Your tongue swipes his lower lip, and he parts his mouth willingly. He feels like putty underneath you, as he uses one of his hands to cup your face and deepen the kiss. Your lips move against his, already familiar, but he could never stop craving it.

When you pull back to breathe, your eyes are wide and your lips are swollen—a fact that Mingyu notes with pride.

“Nice boys don’t kiss like that,” you breathe out.

“Oh, yes, they fucking do.”

[smileysuh]

ghostie

🌙 staring. Johnny x afab!Reader

🔮 preview. As one am rolls around, you start to realize that maybe tonight you won’t get a call. He is a frat boy, and this is Halloween weekend.  You’re disappointed as you get into bed, frowning as you scroll on your phone, hoping that if you wait another five minutes, maybe he’ll catch you. Five minutes turns into ten, turns into fifteen, and you find your eyes beginning to shut. You’re starting to understand how much you truly have come to depend on Ghostie as part of your nightly ritual. It hurts not to get a call from your favourite voice-modulated anonymous frat boy.

tw/cw. yandere/stalker subthemes, unknown caller, weed use, multiple reader orgasms, big dick!Johnny, oral, pussy eating, blowjob, deep throating, spit as lube, fingering, hand riding, dacryphilia, praise, dirty talk, cum/fullness kink, unprotected sex, heavy grinding, dick bulge, creampie, rough groping, slight restraint, size kink, submissive reader, subspace, dumbification, hair pulling, finger sucking, etc… I pet names: (hers) Tiny, good girl, pretty girl. (his) Ghostie.

👹 rating. 18+ explicit I wc. 15k

🍭 aus. uni/frat au, yandere subthemes, Halloween, etc…

☀️ mlist + an. this might just be the best John fic I've ever written, or maybe I just need therapy

Sunday 

You pause your movie when your phone rings and you look down at the screen. The number is unknown, and you briefly consider not even answering it. However, you’ve had two job interviews in the past week, and you don’t want to miss any opportunities, so with a sigh, you bring your phone to your ear.

“Hello?”

“Hi, Tiny, how’s your night going?”

Definitely not a prospective employer. Your sorority gave you the name Tiny during first year, something to do with the ‘tiny’ shots you always want to take, and only those within the Greek system use it on you. On top of the Greek-specific term of endearment, the man on the other end of the line is using a voice modulator of some sort, and it makes it impossible for you to identify him.

Your curiosity is sparked. 

“Who is this?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?”

You sigh, leaning back against your bed and setting your laptop to the side. “I get that Scream is having a comeback, but this whole ‘calling a girl and being mysterious’ thing won’t get you laid anytime soon.”

“Are you sure about that?” You can hear a hint of laughter in the man’s voice.

“If you’re not going to tell me who you are, I’ll hang up.”

“We wouldn’t want that, now would we?” There’s a pause then, “Let’s just say, a mutual friend gave me your number. They thought we’d hit it off.”

“Whoever this ungendered mutual friend is, I doubt they expected you to call me with a voice modulator and act out a Ghost Face fantasy. I get that Halloween is a week away, but come on… you can’t be serious about this.” 

“I am serious. Come on Tiny, live a little.” 

“You’re awfully sure of yourself, aren’t you, Mister Ghost Face.” 

“I’ve got good reason to be, trust me on that.”

You let out a deep sigh, going through your roster of men who might think this sort of thing would be funny. “Yunho? Is this you getting high again?” 

“Wrong frat, but good guess. I didn’t know Alpha Tappa Zeta’s star quarterback was a stoner, thanks for the info, Tiny.” 

“Shit,” you mutter to yourself. You hadn’t meant to throw Yunho under the bus like that.

“It’s okay, I won’t tell anyone about his… habits. That would be hypocritical of me.”

You search your mind for the stoners you know. Ones who would have the balls to call you like this. 

“Do you want to take another guess? I’ll give you three chances. You have two more.”

Aside from ATZ, you spend a lot of time with Sigma Veta Tau. Soonyoung is a well-known blunt roller in the fraternity system, but he wouldn’t do a charade like this. He’s very open about hitting on you any time you’re at one of his parties. 

“Jeonghan?” you ask.

“Last guess, Tiny.” 

He doesn’t confirm or deny if you’ve gotten the frat right, but you can’t really see any other SVT members who would fit this mysterious man’s profile. 

Your mind wanders to Nu Chi Theta. They’ve got quite a few weed lovers there, and you’ve been invited into many closed-room smoke sessions with the dirty NCT boys. 

There’s Yuta, and he’d definitely have the gall to entertain a flirtation like this. However, you don’t know of any mutual friends who would ever set you up with him. With another sigh of irritation, you throw out the last name on your shortlist of stoner acquaintances. 

“Hyuck? Please tell me this isn’t you.”

“Close but no cigar.” 

“I don’t like this game.”

“You’re not supposed to like it, but it is entertaining, don’t you think?”

“What’s your angle with all of this?” you question. “If you’re not going to tell me who you are, then what’s the point of calling?”

The line is silent for a few moments. “I guess… I just wanted to talk to you a little, is that so bad?”

Your heart softens, if only momentarily. “Then grow some balls and ask me out like a real man.”

“Where would be the fun in that?” The mystery man lets out a short chuckle, and your irritation only grows. 

“Has anyone ever told you that you’re really annoying?”

“A few times actually.”

“Well, you’re the most annoying person I’ve ever met and I haven’t even met you.”

“Yes, you have.”

“God, I’m tired of this. Goodnight.” 

You don’t even wait for an answer, you simply hang up.

Despite trying to get back to your movie, you can’t get the mystery man out of your head. When you go to bed you can’t even sleep, your mind completely full of all the possibilities of who your caller could have been. 

You’ll have to do some digging tomorrow. You can’t not figure out who this guy is- and you know just the fratboy to give you all the details you could need.

Monday

Mark Lee is always fifteen minutes early, even when it comes to an 8am class. You feel like shit after tossing and turning all night, so when you slide into the seat next to him in the back of the class, he gives you a once over and his lips part in shock.

“Are you okay?”

“No, Mark, I’m not okay,” you snap, regretting it a moment later- after all, Mark’s not the one doing this to you. “Someone called me from an unknown number last night. A frat guy, I’m not sure who. He was using this voice modulator-”

“That sounds hella sketchy.”

“Super sketchy,” you agree. 

“I know it’s October and everything, but that’s a weird way to hit on a girl.”

“That’s what I said!” Mark always understands you. “He said a mutual friend gave him my number, thought we’d be cute together or something- whoever it was, I need to strangle them.”

“Is this friend a girl or a guy?”

“Mystery man wouldn’t tell me,” you groan.

“So… this dude could be literally anyone.”

“Not Yunho from Alpha Tappa Zeta, Jeonghan from Sigma Veta Tau, and not your roommate Hyuck. The guy gave me three guesses,” you explain, “the hint is that he’s a stoner.”  

“Lots of frat guys are stoners.”

“Exactly,” you sigh, leaning back in your seat. 

“What are you going to do if he calls you again?” Mark asks. “This kind of feels like stalker behavior.”

“It does,” you admit. “But at the same time, he calls me Tiny, and he says we’ve met before- when I asked what he even got out of the phonecall he said he just wanted to ‘talk to me a little,’ which, I don’t know, for some reason I feel like he’s not a stalker.” 

Mark gives you a look that says ‘You’re crazy,’ and after listening to everything that just spewed out of your own mouth, maybe you kind of agree with him.

 “So if he calls you again…” Mark reasks his earlier question, one you’d chosen to ignore.

But you can’t ignore it now, and you let out a deep breath.

“If he calls again… We’ll see what happens.”

“Tiny-”

“Mark,” you counter, knowing he’s about to chastise you. But you don’t want to hear it. If even he doesn’t have any idea of who your mystery caller could be, you simply can’t give up. If you never find out who this ‘Ghost Face’ dude is, you’ll feel unsolved for the rest of your life and you know it.

“Look, I’ll ask around a little,” Mark concedes.

You let out a squeal of delight, throwing your arms around your closet fratboy friend. He lets out a chuckle, gently squeezing you back. 

Mark’s a good guy. 

If only you were into good guys and not sleazy stoners calling you while getting a hard-on for being Ghost Face.

Monday pt 2

It’s nine o'clock and you’re starting to get tired while you study. You’re in need of a distraction, so when your phone rings with an unknown number, your heart practically jumps into your throat.

“Hello?”

“Hi, Tiny.”

“Wow, Mister Ghost Face,” you laugh, twirling in your spinny chair, “two nights in a row. You must really like me, huh?”

The laugh he lets out sounds genuine, even though his voice is obscured still. For some reason, the noise makes you grin, and you can’t believe you’re actually kind of having fun with this.

“I do like you,” the mystery man confirms. “Tell me about your day.”

“Tell you about my day?” You’re in shock.

“Uh huh.”

“No teasing or nothing? No three guesses about your identity?” 

“I’ll tell you what,” he lets out a sigh, “like you said, Halloween is in a week. If you keep letting me call you until then, I’ll reveal myself when you come to the party.”

“The party?” you repeat. “You make it sound like there’s only one frat party on Halloween.”

“Only one worth going to.”

“Is that so?” He’s so cocky- why does that turn you on? 

“Yup. In fact, I know you agree with me on this, because the past two Halloweens, you’ve come to my frat.” 

Your body freezes. He’s just given you a massive hint-

“So you’re an NCT boy?”

“Wouldn’t call myself a boy, and neither would you if you saw what's in my pants.” 

You swallow the lump in your throat, not sure how to even respond to the suggestive comment he’s just made. 

The man on the other end of the line lets out a chuckle. “Sorry, I’m two blunts deep. I should watch what I say to you, that's why I asked about your day.”

“You don’t have to- watch what you say, I mean.”

“Yeah?” You can almost picture him leaning back in a chair, a large half-chub growing in his pants- “Are you getting horny from a mystery man on your phone? Dirty girl.”

“Dirty guy,” you counter, “trying to entice me by saying your dick is big.”

“Well, it worked, didn’t it?”

“I’m intrigued,” you admit, “but not only because of your cock.”

“It’s a nice cock.”

“Okay, I’ll tell you about my day,” you sidestep. “Had an early class with Mark Lee, you must know Mark.”

“Of course.”

“Well, he has no clue who you could be.”

“You talked about me.” 

You can hear him smiling. 

“I bet you couldn’t even sleep last night. Too busy trying to figure out who I am.”

Okay, maybe he is a bit of a stalker. Or maybe he just knows you well… who the fuck is this guy?

“Stop being so cocky,” you insist.

“Tell me I’m wrong.” 

“Mark told me you’re probably a stalker, said I should maybe block your number.”

“I don’t have a number, if I did, that would be too easy for you. I’m an unknown caller… can you even block unknown callers?” 

“I guess we’ll find out when I block you.”

“Won’t happen though. What did you do after your class with Mark?”

“Are you really that interested in my day?” 

“I wouldn’t be asking if I wasn’t interested.”

He’s a cocky softy, who would have imagined. 

You wonder what you ever did to make this guy so sweet on you- you’ve dated men who don’t even care to ask you how your day went, and this guy is out here doing it practically for free.

“Classes were okay, my sorority had a little fundraiser at lunch, we baked cupcakes.”

“They were good cupcakes.” 

“Wait…” your stomach churns a little. “You stopped by?”

“I’m a sucker for cupcakes, and how cute your butt looks in blue jeans.”

You search your memory, counting how many NCT boys came through around lunch. You realize that there were far too many for it to do any good in deciphering which one is the man you’re currently talking to.

“Did we talk?”

“You talked to everyone who bought something. I’m not special.”

Except… he kind of is special, in a way you can’t truly explain… not yet anyways.

“Maybe you are a stalker,” you decide.

“I can promise you I’m not, but I bet you’d be kind of into it if I was.”

This guy makes you feel such conflicting emotions, you’re not sure how to even handle him.

“Look, I was studying when you called-”

“Right, you should get back to that.”

“I should.”

“Sleep tight, Tiny. It’s been nice talking to you.”

Part of you wants to return the sentiment, it feels second nature, but the words stop on your tongue. In all fairness, it hasn’t been particularly nice talking to the mystery Ghost Face guy. 

Instead of saying anything else, you simply hit him with a “Bye,” and you hang up the phone.

However, you don’t get back to studying, you immediately call Mark.

He sounds groggy as he says “Hello?”

“Did I wake you?”

“No.”

“I just got a call from that guy again. He’s definitely one of your frat brothers, and he’s high right now.”

“That doesn’t narrow it down,” Mark sighs. “We sort of uh… all got high at the fire after dinner.”

“Mark Lee!” you screech.

“Sorry, sorry!” Mark groans. “I’ll uh… ask around some more. We’ll figure out who this dude is.”

“And if we don’t… he said he’d tell me who he is at your frat Halloween bash at the end of the week.” 

It’s Monday now, and the party is on Saturday. That means you’ll only have to wait a few days… you can hold out for a few days… can’t you?

Tuesday

You read over the email a third time, but it doesn’t make anything better. The words ‘We regret to inform you that you have not been chosen for the position’ make your eyes begin to well with tears.

Quickly exiting your phone, you grab your things. You refuse to cry in the middle of the library-

The bathroom will have to do the trick, and you hurry to get there, holding back the choked sob that longs to slip out of you.

You’d thought for sure this interview would land you a job on campus. The interview had gone well, or so you’d thought.

You don’t even know why you’re getting so upset about this. 

There’s just something so devastating about rejection. 

You get to the bathroom quickly, shutting yourself into a stall before you allow the tears to fall again. You cradle your face in your hands, allowing the sadness to overwhelm you.

It’s important to have a good cry every now and again, and you definitely need this.

Your cries, however, are interrupted by your phone ringing in your pocket. Wiping at your face, you reach for the device, lifting it to your ear.

“Hello?”

“Are you okay?” 

“I really don’t have time for this right now, Ghost-” you groan, closing your eyes at the familiar voice-modulated sound.

“You do have time,” he insists. “Tell me what happened.”

“What do you mean?”

“I just saw you running through the library. Looked like you were crying.”

“I wasn’t crying!” you nearly yell. 

“Liar. Come on, Tiny, let Ghostie make you feel better.”

The affectionate-sounding nickname prompts you to wipe your eyes. “Are you sure you’re not a stalker?”

“I was in the library, don’t get your panties in a twist.”

“Was?”

“I’m gone now, can’t have you figuring out who I am before Halloween.”

“Would it really be so bad if I did?” you question. “It would make me feel better.”

“Look at you, using your bad experience to try to swindle me,” you hear him laugh, and there are more sounds now, as if he’s walking across campus. “Seriously, Tiny, tell me what’s going on.”

“Do you always walk around campus with a voice modulator?”

“It’s an app on my phone babe, now answer my question.” 

“You didn’t ask a question, you commanded me to tell you what happened, and I’m not taking commands right now.”

He sighs. “Will you please tell me what’s making you cry?”

Your lower lip trembles. “It’s stupid.”

“Nothing that hurts you is stupid.”

“Why are you being so nice to me?”

“It looked like you needed a friend.”

“You’re not my friend. You’re some guy who got my number and gets hard by pretending to be Ghost Face from Scream.”

“I could be your friend. Could be more than your friend. And I’m not hard right now. Not after seeing you cry.” 

You take a breath. “I applied for a job and I uh… they didn’t hire me.”

“Then they’re stupid.”

“Maybe I’m stupid.”

“Don’t say that.”

“I’m a girl who’s spent three days talking to a guy who keeps his identity a secret, and for some crazy reason, you’re actually making me feel better. That definitely makes me stupid.”

“No, it makes you soft. It’s one of the things I like about you.”

“Yeah?” you sniffle. “What else? And don’t say my ass in blue jeans.”

The man chuckles. “You’re soft, and kind. But you’re a fighter too. You’ve got a spark. Don’t even get me started on how smart you are-”

“And how would you know how smart I am?”

“For starters, you’re in the top-scoring sorority on campus,” he points out. “Whenever you come to trivia night, you wipe the floor with all of us. Mark talks constantly about how much you help him with his classes, which brings me to my next point, you care about charity. That’s a great sign of your character.” 

“You do know a lot about me, don’t you, Ghostie?” His words have stopped your tears, and you cradle your phone close to your ear. 

“Still not a stalker though.”

Now he even has you laughing. “Jury’s still out on that one.”

“You sound better already,” he muses. “Mark has a free block right now, I’m sure if you call him he’d take you for ice cream or something to distract you.”

“That’s a good idea,” you admit.

“I’m full of good ideas.”

“Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it, Tiny.”

Tuesday pt 2

“This guy sounds like a full-on stalker,” Mark says for the sixth time as you grab ice cream and sit inside while a storm passes, rain splattering the windows.

“I mean, if he knew your schedule, I’m guessing he’s someone close to you.”

“He’s stalking us both, I don’t like it.”

“But he’s nice.”

“He’s stalking you, Tiny!” 

“He’s not!” you insist. “A lot of people were at the library today… honestly, I think… I think Ghostie is kind of sweet.”

“Ghostie?!” Mark stares at you in shock. “You’re calling him Ghostie now?”

“It’s cute, right?”

“It’s crazy is what it is!” Mark leans back in his seat, frowning. “This is giving me the creeps.”

“Well, it’s spooky season.”

“If I’m being honest, I don’t think any of my frat brothers would pull crazy shit like this. They’re mostly pretty chill dudes.”

“So you think he’s lying about being in NCT?” you ask, cocking your head to the side.

“I think he’s definitely lying,” Mark confirms.

“Well, agree to disagree.”

Mark studies you for a moment. “Look, the only guy who’s a freak like this is Yuta and he swore up and down to me yesterday that he’s not calling you with a fucking voice modulator.” 

“I don’t think this is Yuta.”

“Because you’re a Ghostie expert now, huh?” He scoffs loudly.

“Yuta’s not really a stoner,” you point out. “And besides, I can’t explain why I know it’s not him, I just have a feeling.”

“Yeah, is that feeling in your pussy by any chance?” 

“Mark Lee!” you gasp, scandalized by his choice of words. 

“Be real with me!” he insists. “You wouldn’t be entertaining this if it wasn’t… I don’t know, turning you on? Are you turned on by stalkers? Is this why you like Halloween so much?”

“Okay, maybe I am turned on, but that doesn’t make me a bad person.”

“It just makes you crazy,” Mark groans, running a hand through his hair. “I swear to God, when the dude reveals himself at the frat party, it better be one of my frat brothers and not a serial killer. And also, I’m going to fight him.”

“Something tells me he’d beat you,” you giggle.

“Now you’re trying to make me feel bad.”

“Says the guy who just called me crazy.” You grin, knowing that you’ve won.

“This whole thing is crazy.”

He has a point about that.

Wednesday

You’ve been waiting all day for a call from Ghostie, and it comes right before you’re about to head to bed. You practically launch yourself at your phone, putting it on speaker and saying “Hello?” as if you don’t know who’s on the other end of the line.

“Hey you, feeling better today?”

“You tell me, mister stalker.”

“I haven’t actually seen you today, it was a bit of a shame if I’m being honest.”

“Yeah?” God, this man has way too much power over you. “And why’s that, Ghostie?”

“Because I’ve been looking at your Instagram, but you’re cuter in person.”

“Do you follow me?” 

“We’re mutuals.” 

You’re mutuals with pretty much the entire NCT frat, it would have been more helpful if he’d said he’s not a follower, although, now that you think of it, that had always been unlikely. 

“Still trying to figure out who I am, aren’t you, Tiny?”

“Of course.”

“Remember when I was listing your good qualities? Patience wasn’t one of them.” 

“That’s so rude of you,” you say, although, you’re grinning at your phone.

“Here, I’ll make it better. I have an idea for you.”

“Let’s hear it then.” You get comfortable on your bed, wondering what he’s about to say.

“If you want a job, there’s this bar on campus, Skeets. Have you heard of it?”

“Who hasn’t heard of Skeets?” You roll your eyes. 

“They let just about anyone work there. A few of the NCT guys are bartenders, I’m sure they’d put a good word in for you with the hiring manager, he’s also a member of the frat.” 

You haven’t been to Skeets in ages, and you try to remember who you know amongst the staff. “Wait, you’re right- doesn’t Hyuck work there?”

“He does… This is the second time you’ve mentioned him, got something of a crush, Tiny?”

“Would that make you jealous?” you tease.

“I’m not the jealous type,” he states. “But yeah… it would.”

“Don’t get your Ghost Face mask in a knot, I don’t have a crush on Hyuck. In fact, if you turn out to be Hyuck and I find out you lied to me about your identity, I’m going to be really mad.” 

“I’m not Hyuck.”

“Good.” You consider his proposition for a moment. “Do you really think they’d hire me?”

“It doesn’t hurt to try.”

“You know, on Sunday, if someone had told me you’d be helping me find a job not three days later, I would have said they were crazy.”

“Guess I like to keep you on your toes.”

“I think you just have a major soft spot for me. Tell me I’m wrong.”

“I can’t. I promised not to lie to you.” 

God, he makes you so giddy it’s insane. 

“Are you going to come stalk me at Skeets if they give me a job?”

“Goodnight, Tiny.” He’s avoiding the question, and you can hear him grinning through the phone.

“Night, Ghostie.”

It’s the first time he’s the one to hang up on you, and it leaves you wanting more.

Thursday

Ghostie had assured you that Skeets hires just about anyone, but that doesn’t help the anxiety building inside of you as you prepare to take your resume into the bar. 

You even do a Wonderwoman pose outside while waiting for Skeets to open, breathing deeply to psych yourself up while you go over possible interview questions just in case the hiring manager wants a chit-chat today.

“I love working in a team environment,” you say quietly to yourself, closing your eyes and running through responses. “The most important thing is that the guests feel welcome.”

The sound of something dragging across the cement ground has you practically jumping, lids flashing open as your head whips toward the noise.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to interrupt your mantra,” the tall fratboy laughs, setting up the wooden sign with the daily drink menu just in front of the door to the bar.

“It’s fine,” you assure him, swallowing thickly. 

The man in front of you is Johnny Suh. He’s two years older than you, and you know him through Mark. When guys join a frat, they’re assigned a ‘Big,’ an elder frat brother to guide them through the process. Johnny is Mark’s big, and he’s always been nice to you whenever you’ve crossed paths.

You would call Johnny an acquaintance, not a friend, but he’s still a friendlier face than you may have expected to see upon your first moments interacting with Skeets staff. 

“You coming inside, Tiny?” Johnny asks.

“Yeah, sorry John, one sec, I just need another deep breath.” You wave your hand at him, turning your back and gulping down air while you hold your bag tight to your front, the resume within practically burning a hole in the leather.

The hot fratboy heads back inside and you finish calming yourself down. 

You can do this. You can get this job.

As you enter the bar that’s just open, you realize there are only a few staff members kicking around so far. Kim Jungwoo is rearranging chairs, and Lee Donghyuck is sitting on a table looking at his phone. Johnny Suh is behind the bar, and you decide you should probably talk to him, so you try to act confident as you walk through the small establishment.

Johnny’s brown eyes raise as you approach, and he offers you a small smile. “Tough day?”

“What?” You blink at him, settling against the bartop.

“You looked kind of off outside, and most people don’t come in to day-drink this early.”

“Oh, uh… I’m not here to day-drink.” You let out a tiny laugh. “Actually, I came to see if you guys were looking to hire new staff members, I brought my resume.”

You reach into your bag to pull out the papers, and you hand them over to Johnny.

His eyes scan the first sheet. “Wow, a cover letter, I’ve actually never seen one of these.”

People don’t apply with cover letters? The idea is kind of shocking to you.

Johnny hardly looks at your resume, setting it down in front of him to address you instead. “What makes you want to work at Skeets?”

“In all honesty, I need a job. I’m dependable, and I’ve got a decent schedule to work in the food service industry. I like working as part of a team, and I’m already friends with a lot of the staff here, so I thought it might be a good fit.”

Johnny nods, assessing you. “Have you bartended before?”

“I’ve got my qualifications to serve alcohol, but I’ve mostly had waitressing jobs,” you admit.

“At Skeets, we all do a bit of everything. Would you be open to learning how to mix drinks?”

“I’d be very open to it,” you nod. 

“Then let’s give it a shot,” Johnny smiles warmly at you. “You’ve got good timing, we actually just had to let go of someone for excessive drinking on the job. I was going to put a wanted ad up today, but looks like that won’t be necessary.”

“Are you…” you swallow thickly, “are you serious? I’m hired?”

“Yeah, why not?” 

You can’t help the squeal of delight that rushes through you, and a massive grin makes its way onto your face. You even jump a little, and Johnny seems to enjoy your excitement, smiling from ear to ear while you celebrate. 

“When can you start?” he asks next.

“I can start tomorrow! I mean, if you need me that soon.”

“Tomorrow is a big night here at Skeets, the Friday before Halloween. We could use the hands, but it will be a busy one, do you think you can handle that?”

You’re quick to nod. “Of course. But I uh… I should let you know, I can’t work Halloween, I promised a friend I’d meet them at your frat for the party.”

“Don’t worry about Saturday,” Johnny assures you. “Sigma Veta Tau has their frat party tonight, so it’s all us NCT guys working, and tomorrow we’ll switch. As much as Seungcheol is a good comanager, I don’t trust him to teach you how to mix drinks on Halloween.”

“So… you’re going to be the main person training me then?” you ask.

“If you want something done right, you gotta do it yourself,” he confirms. 

You can’t help but beam up at the tall frat boy, overjoyed at this turn of events. As cute as Johnny is though, part of you is excited to tell Ghostie about this when he inevitably calls you tonight. 

Your life is definitely a little crazy.

“So, how about you come in tomorrow at seven?” Johnny suggests. “The bar will be open past midnight, but I figure I can show you a few things before it gets busy around ten, and then I can let you go early.”

“I’ll be here at seven.”

“And when it comes to what you’re wearing, we’ll give you a Skeets t-shirt,” he pulls at the black fabric stretched tight across his broad chest. “Other than that, you can wear any color of jeans and some sneakers.”

“Perfect.”

“You’ll be paid for the training shift, I’ll tip you out in cash, and if it goes well, we’ll get your banking details at your next shift after that,” Johnny explains. “I’ve got your number here on your resume, so I’ll be in contact with you on Sunday, how’s that sound?”

“Sounds like a dream.” You literally can’t stop smiling.

“Tiny’s going to learn to mix,” Johnny says fondly, “Mark’s going to love this.”

You already feel close to Mark’s big, and the opportunity to work with him is a good one. Johnny is one of the more well-known nice guys at the frat. Sure, he’s got a little bit of a dangerous edge to him, just based on his massive stature alone, but he’s generally a big softy bear. 

“Thanks again for this, Johnny,” you beam. “I won’t let you down.”

Thursday pt 2

“Hyuck said our favorite Tiny sorority princess got herself a job today.” 

“Hello to you too, Ghostie.”

“I wanted to cut to the chase and congratulate you.”

“I wouldn’t have gotten the job without you,” you admit. “So… thank you.”

“Don’t mention it,” your mystery man says, and you can hear that classic grin of his. “I’m sure you got it on your own merit.”

“Apparently no one’s ever brought a cover letter with their resume before.”

“They must have been impressed.” 

“Hired me on the spot.”

“That’s my girl.” 

Your insides flutter. You like the way it sounds when he calls you his girl. “How about your day, Ghostie? Stalk any new girls?”

He laughs. “Only one girl worth stalking, which, I don’t do, by the way.”

“Sure you don’t.”

“My day was long,” he says finally.

“Yeah, it’s nearly midnight, I was thinking about going to sleep but…”

“But you wanted me to call,” Ghostie finishes your sentence for you.

“When you say it like that it sounds kind of depressing.”

“It’s not depressing, Tiny, it’s cute.”

“Cute?” 

“I like that you’re getting used to me.”

“You know… if you decided not to show up to the Halloween party- if you never called again, I think… I’d wonder who you are the rest of my life.” It’s a moment of vulnerability, and your heart races in your chest while you wait for his response. 

“I wouldn’t do that to you, Tiny,” Ghostie promises. “I’ll find you on Saturday, and not in a stalker way.”

“What costume are you going to be wearing?” 

“If I tell you, you’ll just show up and scour the whole place looking for me.”

“You know me too well, don’t you, Ghostie?”

“What are you going to wear, pretty girl?”

You literally kick your feet at the term of endearment, body buzzing. It takes a moment to collect yourself. “Honestly? I’ve got a Ghost Face mask hanging around somewhere.”

“And here I was being told I’m the one who gets hard pretending to be Ghost Face.” 

“Well… even though I don’t know you, not really, I think I got that one pretty accurate, didn’t I?”

“Maybe a little.”

“I thought you said you were big,” you tease.

“Okay, maybe a lot.”

You bite at your lip. After the great day you’ve had, it’s difficult not to feel flirty. “Are you hard right now, big guy?”

He groans, and even under the voice modulator, something tells you the sounds he makes are sexy as fuck. You can feel your panties getting wet. It’s dirty, but in the best possible way.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” you grin.

“You’re being bad, Tiny.”

“Says the guy who’s literally hard right now.”

The other end of the line is silent for a moment. “Can I ask you something?”

“You can ask me anything.”

“What if… when we meet, you’re not interested in me?”

Well, this has just taken a turn. How did you go from horny thoughts to insecurity? 

It’s a valid question though, one you should have asked yourself by now, but for some reason you haven’t. You think about it for a few seconds. 

“I feel like… I know it’s been less than a week of talking but, you’re not like any other guy I’ve ever met. And not just because you’re calling with a voice modulator.” You let out a laugh. “You ask how my day is, and you care to hear my answer. You even helped me get a job, which is crazy to think about. For some weird reason, I think when I meet you, the emotional connection is already kind of there, so no matter what you look like, you’ll be more attractive to me.”

“You really think so?” 

“I mean, NCT is known for having hot guys, so I’m not sure who you could be that would turn me off. There are only a few NCT guys I’d say a hard no to at the moment.”

“Yeah? Who?” 

“Well, Doyoung and I have never gotten along, but I know you’re not him because he doesn’t touch weed. I dated Jeno for about a week, and I know enough about him to know I don’t want to do anything with him ever again, and also, that you’re not Jeno because he’d never ask me how my day was going-”

“What an asshole.”

You laugh. “All things considered, Ghostie, I think you’ll do just fine.”

“That’s good to hear.”

“Is this why you’ve been doing the whole voice modulator thing? You’re worried I won’t be interested in you?”

“It’s one of the reasons,” Ghostie admits. “I also worried that if I did hit on you, you might think I was only trying to get you into my bed, which, yeah, it would be nice, but… as perfect as your body is, it’s not the most interesting thing about you.”

What a scrumptious take; A guy calling you up and using anonymity to prove to you that this connection isn’t only about sex. 

Your heart softens.

“Ghostie, you might be one of the sweetest guys I know,” you admit.

“More than your best friend Mark Lee?”

You laugh. “Maybe not, Mark would never do something like this. You’re a bit of a paradox that way, aren’t you?”

“If you say so, Tiny. As much as I’ve liked this talk, I think I should let you sleep. Halloween is two days away and I’m sure we’ve both got a lot to do before then.”

“What if I don’t want you to go just yet?”

“Then I’d remind you that patience is a virtue.”

“You’re such a tease.”

“Good thing we have an emotional connection so you’ll forgive me for it. Night, Tiny.”

“Night, Ghostie.” 

Friday 

Your first shift consists of shadowing Johnny. He’s a fabulous teacher. He’s calm, patient, and very encouraging. The first few hours are a breeze, but the bar gets increasingly packed as the night goes on.

It’s a little overwhelming, but Johnny helps keep you steady. He gives you the easy drink orders, things like beer and simple cocktails. While you’re filling a cup from the beer tap, he’s busy mixing five to ten different things into one glass for items on the Halloween special menu.

There’s something sexy about a diligent worker, and his beefy arms are all bulgy and hot in his tight Skeets shirt. You can tell that a lot of girls come up to the bar specifically to order from him. There are two other bartenders, but Johnny’s line is notably the longest.

You’ve had your own share of interested men pop over to say hi. There are very few frat boys here tonight, as there’s a party in full swing in the Greek village, so most of the guys coming up to grab a beer from you are people you don’t know.

Many of them are dressed up in costumes, and it’s interesting to try to guess some of the more obscure clothing choices.

Anytime you see a man in a ghost costume, your mind shifts to your mystery caller. You wonder if he’ll pop by tonight- but other than the men already working with you, no NCT boys walk through the front door. 

No Ghostie.

There’s not one second of reprieve, but staff need breaks, and finally, just before midnight, Johnny pulls you both for a breather. 

“Are you sure the others can keep up while we’re gone?” you ask, looking back at the swamped bartenders.

“They can manage,” he assures you, guiding you through the back staffroom to a door that leads to an alleyway behind the bar. “I know I’ve kept you on longer than I thought, but it’s just been so busy. How are you holding up?”

The cool night air is a drastic difference from the heat and humidity inside, and you take a deep breath, closing your eyes and enjoying it. “I’m doing alright,” you tell him. “You’re the one making the difficult drinks.”

“I’ve been mixing cocktails for years,” he brushes it off, reaching into his back pocket. 

“Well, it shows.” You watch to see him pull out a rolled joint, and next comes a lighter.

“Want some?” he asks, lifting the joint to slot between his perfect lips. 

“Are we allowed to smoke on the job?” 

“Hyuck was prescribed Vyvanse last year, so he’s practically on coke all shift,” Johnny grins, lighting the end of the joint and taking a puff. “Besides,” he lets out a deep breath of smoke, “in the service industry, sometimes you need a little buffer.”

Skeets really is a chill place if the hiring manager smokes weed on breaks with subordinates. 

“I didn’t realize you were a stoner,” you muse.

“Most of us frat boys are,” Johnny admits, pulling the joint from between his lips. It’s placed casually between two fingers, and his other hand ruffles through his pretty hair. “It’s a nice night.”

“It is,” you nod, looking up at the sky. Stars are twinkling in the dark

“I’m glad you joined the team, not sure we would have been doing so well without your extra set of hands.”

“I’m really grateful to have been given a trial shift,” you smile softly.

“Well, just so you know, it’s more than a trial shift. You’re hired.” He nudges your shoulder gently, and your grin only grows.

“Thank you.”

Johnny takes another drag from his joint. “Sure you don’t want a puff?”

“I really shouldn’t-”

“I’m going to let you go home pretty soon after this,” Johnny tells you. “So it won’t affect your performance that much.”

You wonder if this is a test, but… at the same time, you don’t think Johnny’s the type of guy to test you this way. 

You give in, accepting the joint and bringing it to your lips. It’s been a while since you smoked one of these, and your first tiny hit leaves you coughing, passing the joint back to Johnny while you try to catch your breath.

He grins while watching you, and you get the sneaking suspicion that Johnny thinks you’re cute. 

“Thank you,” you say, coughing again.

“You’ve got good manners, don’t ya, Tiny?”

You nod, wiping at the tears that have formed in your eyes from the smoke. 

“Who... who do you usually smoke with?” you ask.

“Why? You a cop?” Johnny jokes.

“No, it’s just uh… God, I could tell you the whole story but you wouldn’t even believe me if I did,” you find yourself laughing. “Just… I didn’t know you smoked, so, I’m wondering if maybe there are a few other guys in your circle who do too.”

Johnny looks you up and down. “Like I said earlier, Tiny, almost all us frat boys partake in mari-ju-ana.”

It’s clear he’s not going to give you any information that could help you figure out who your Ghostie is. You suppose you really will just have to be patient.

In less than twenty-four hours, you’ll be finding out who your mystery caller is, and the suspense is absolutely killing you.

Friday pt 2

It’s twelve thirty when you finally get home, and you’re very tired. But at the same time, you’re awake. You take your time getting ready for bed, ignoring the loud party sounds outside and around the frat village while you wait for a call from Ghostie.

As one am rolls around, you start to realize that maybe tonight you won’t get a call.

He is a frat boy, and this is Halloween weekend. 

You’re disappointed as you get into bed, frowning as you scroll on your phone, hoping that if you wait another five minutes, maybe he’ll catch you. 

Five minutes turn into ten, turn into fifteen, and you find your eyes beginning to shut.

You’re starting to understand how much you truly have come to depend on Ghostie as part of your nightly ritual. It hurts not to get a call from your favourite voice-modulated anonymous frat boy.

You try to self-soothe by assuring yourself you’ll meet him tomorrow, but it doesn’t really help. 

Tossing and turning, trying to get comfortable, you fall into a blissless sleep.

Saturday 

You’re groggy when you open your eyes, but you still go to check your phone. There’s a missed call notification from an unknown number at three am, and suddenly you’re wide awake, bolting up in bed.

“Hey, Tiny, it’s me.”

As if it could be anyone else.

“Sorry I didn’t get a chance to call you last night. I was pretty swamped with Halloween stuff. But if it makes you feel any better, you were definitely on my mind.”

Here you are kicking your feet again.

“Probably won’t get a chance to talk to you until the party, I really do hope you come… in uh… more ways than one.”

God, he makes you wet.

“I get it if you’re a little mad at me for not calling earlier, and I promise to make it up to you when I see you, if you’ll let me.”

He’s so oddly respectful.

“But I get it if you don’t want to do anything at the party. I’ve enjoyed talking with you this week, and if that’s all it’s going to be then I won’t hold it against you. Anyways, goodnight, see you soon.”

Saturday pt 2

You feel cute tonight. You’d taken your Ghost Face mask off almost as soon as entering the frat, but the little black dress you’re wearing is enough to capture a lot of attention. 

Every frat boy that comes up to you makes your heart race, but none of them reveal themselves as your Ghostie. 

You’re actually beginning to get a little frustrated, and after two hours of floating around hoping to find your mystery man, you head with Mark to his room for a break.

Mark’s roommate, Hyuck, is sitting on his bed, bong already out and resting on one thigh while scrolls through his phone. He looks up when you enter, smirking. “Finally, smoking buddies.”

“You texted me like two minutes ago to come up here,” Mark rolls his eyes. “Have some patience.”

“Not in my nature,” Hyuck insists, setting his phone down and reaching for his lighter. “First hit is mine.”

As if you expected anything less. 

You watch him inhale the thick cloud of smoke, holding it for a moment in his lungs before he lets out a deep exhale. “Fucking hell, he groans, that was a good hit.” 

Mark takes the bong and Hyuck falls flat against the bed, closing his eyes and smiling.

“So have you found your stalker yet, Tiny?” Hyuck asks.

Your gaze flashes to Mark. “You told him?”

“He was curious why I was asking for a stoner list,” Mark defends himself. 

“Whoever the dude is, he’s got balls,” Hyuck says wistfully. 

There’s a knock on the door, and Jaehyun pokes his head inside. “Heard we’re smoking?”

“Yeah, come in!” Hyuck waves his hand, still collapsed on his bed.

The door is pushed open wider, and you catch sight of Johnny standing behind Jaehyun. Your new hiring manager flashes you a wink as they enter, and the door is shut firmly behind them. Jaehyun goes to sit with Hyuck, but Johnny approaches you, taking the seat next to you on Mark’s bed. 

“How’s your night going?” Johnny asks.

“She’s waiting for her stalker to come kidnap her and fuck her brains out,” Hyuck says loudly.

“Your stalker?” Johnny laughs.

“Some guy has been calling her all week,” Mark tries to explain.

“It sounds worse than it is,” you insist, feeling the need to defend Ghostie. “He’s only a little perverted.” 

“And you’re into that sort of thing?” Jaehyun questions, cocking his head while Mark takes a puff from the bong and hands it over.

“Not usually,” you admit. “But… this guy is different.”

“You don’t even know what he looks like,” Mark groans, collapsing in his desk chair and running an anxious hand through his hair.

“That doesn’t matter,” you insist. 

“Fucking girls, dude,” Hyuck laughs, sitting up and watching Jaehyun smoke from the bong. “You know what we need?”

“More weed?” Mark suggests.

“Yes, but also, shots.” Hyuck’s eyes shift to Johnny. “Not the shit from downstairs. The good stuff.”

Johnny lets out a chuckle. “You want something from my secret stash?”

“The tequila you brought back from Mexico,” Hyuck nods.

Jaehyun lets out a puff of smoke, holding the bong out for Johnny, who shakes his head. 

“You’re not taking a hit?” Jaehyun asks, staring at Johnny in hazy shock.

“Not tonight,” Johnny responds. Then he turns to you. “If neither of us are taking a crack at the bong, how about you come help me grab the tequila?”

“Careful, John,” Hyuck teases, “She’s not interested in you, she only has eyes for this Ghostie dude.”

Mark shoves Hyuck’s knee and Johnny simply grins. “Come on Tiny, you don’t want to get secondhand high on a night like this.”

He’s right about that, and you stand with him, heading to the door. Johnny’s so tall and broad, and you try not to stare at his shoulders, but it’s extremely difficult not to appreciate his large form. 

“What’s your costume?” you ask. 

“Oh, this?” He pulls casually at his black tshirt. “I’m a serial killer, they look like everyone else.”

“Very original,” you laugh, falling into step with the tall fratboy as you make your way down the crowded hall. 

“My room is on the top floor,” he tells you, heading to the stairwell and holding the door open for you. “I like your dress, by the way.”

“Thanks, it goes with this.” You hold up the Ghost Face mask to show it to him, and his grin widens while you climb the stairs.

“You’re gonna have to let me try that on.”

“I’m uh… I’m actually saving it for Ghostie to try,” you admit, feeling a little silly with how loyal you’re being to your mystery caller.

“He’s a lucky guy,” Johnny muses.

“Here’s to hoping it goes well,” you sigh.

Johnny doesn’t respond to your comment, and as you reach the top floor he guides you three rooms down, using a key to unlock the door before he holds it open for you. “After you, Tiny.”

The space is the same size as Hyuck and Mark’s, but it only has one bed. “I didn’t realize they had single rooms here,” you say, looking around. 

“There’s only a few, and I’ve got seniority,” Johnny explains. He closes the door behind him, walking over to the large closet. 

You take in the decorations. It’s unmistakably a frat boy's room, but much cleaner than you’re used to. There’s a gaming station, and a mini fridge that you’d guess is full of beer. A clothing rack shows off some of Johnny’s more sophisticated tastes. 

You’re curious about what else he has in his stash, so you join him by the closet, peeking inside. “We’re looking for tequila right?”

God, he has a whole shelf full of expensive bottles of booze. 

“Uh huh,” Johnny nods. “Should be in the back here somewhere.”

“Isn’t this tequila?” you ask, pointing to a bottle he’s brushed past.

“Close,” Johnny flashes a grin at you before continuing to rummage, “but no cigar.” 

You freeze. 

It’s been nearly a week since your first interaction with Ghostie, but you remember that interesting turn of phrase like it was yesterday. 

But- it can’t be. 

Johnny can’t be your mystery caller-

Can he?

“Found it,” Johnny announces, pulling an immaculate bottle of tequila out. His gaze lands on you. “You alright, Tiny? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

“I mean… have I?” 

He cocks his head. “What do you mean?”

“You’re…” You swallow thickly. “Are you my Ghostie?”

Johnny meets your gaze with a steady look. “Does it upset you?”

It’s not a clear confirmation, but it’s a confirmation nonetheless. 

You stare at him in absolute shock for a moment. He looks insanely gorgeous tonight, all broad, with his pretty lips- without even knowing what you’re doing, you find yourself throwing your arms around him and burying your face against his chest.

Johnny freezes, obviously startled by the sudden contact, but then he’s wrapping you in a tight embrace. One of his hands finds the back of your head, and he cradles you close.

Neither of you say anything, you simply hold each other while you come to terms with everything. 

He’s so stupid for ever thinking you wouldn’t want him-

You do want him. You want him so bad-

Pulling away from his chest, you tilt your chip up, reaching for his face. You cup his cheek while you move on your tiptoes to press your lips against his.

He appears just as shocked at this movement as when you’d hugged him, but he eases into it all the same, kissing you back gently.

But you don’t want gentle, you want him.

You’re pent up from a week of teasing, and you shift in his embrace, wrapping both arms around the back of his neck while you glide your tongue against his lip. 

Johnny lets out a groan, his mouth opening for you while his hands slip down to tug your waist closer.

The kiss deepens and now it’s your turn to release a moan, pressing your tits closer to his chest. He feels like heaven against you, and his lips are absolutely magic. His tongue glides gently against your own. You can taste beer, but it’s not unpleasant, in fact, it turns you on even more.

You thread your fingers through his hair, dragging your nails against his scalp-

“Fuck,” Johnny mutters against your mouth.

Then he’s bending down, hands grabbing at your ass and prompting you to jump. You wrap your legs around his hips and he carries you effortlessly, closing the distance to his bed.

Instead of tossing you down, he sits on the mattress and suddenly your knees are digging into his charcoal duvet. You’re on top, fingers in his hair, your tongue licking at his lip, and you’ve never felt so powerful.

It gives you the confidence to wiggle your hips a little, and you’re pleased to find he’s already growing hard in his jeans. God, he feels big- and your pussy throbs at the idea of what you’re going to do to him tonight.

You’re in a dress, and your panty-clad core feels delightful against bulging denim. Johnny’s grabbing at your bare thigh, kneading your flesh, and it makes you moan desperately. Not only is he skilled with his tongue, but his hands seem to know what they’re doing too.

Suddenly he’s grabbing at your hair, tugging you so you arch your head back, giving him access to your throat. His mouth feels amazing as he begins to lick and suck on your neck, finding your sweet spot way too easily-

“Who-” You swallow thickly. “Who gave you my number?”

Johnny laughs against your skin, pulling away to look up at you with dark eyes. “Mark did.”

“Mark?!” You’re in absolute shock now. 

“Gave it to me during finals last year,” Johnny explains. “But… we both had busy summers and…” one of his hands sneaks down to guide your hips, helping you grind against him, “I guess I wasn’t sure how you felt about me.” 

“You’re crazy!” 

“Maybe a little,” he admits. “I’m also Mark’s big, and it’s not like you and I have ever been close.”

“But you’ve liked me for a while, haven’t you, Ghostie?” 

He groans at the nickname, looking up at you with eyes full of wonder. “Longer than you know.”

You wish you could say you’ve felt the same- but in all honesty, you have always seen him as Mark’s big. As an older fratboy dad type-

The way he’s acted with you this week has inklings of that protective daddy personality you know and enjoy, but… he’s not been particularly dad-like. He’s shown you a new side of himself, and you’re so fucking happy he did.

“You know, when Mark finds out you’re my stalker he’s going to flip.”

“I wasn’t stalking you,” Johnny insists, grinning up at you as he applies more pressure to your hips, making you grind against him harder. 

“God, you even hired me for a job-”

He laughs. “It wasn’t favoritism, you had a cover letter, the bar owner was even impressed.”

“You’re so bad- this whole time you’ve been mind fucking me. I would have never guessed my Ghostie worked at Skeets.”

“Well, I do have a minor in psychology,” he admits. “Figured the best place to hide is in plain sight.”

“You even smoked a joint in front of me and I never guessed-”

“Yeah, I was playing with fire with that one,” Johnny laughs. 

“It’s funny. I was so busy thinking about being loyal to Ghostie that I was trying not to check you out last night.” 

“And I’m so lucky to have you. You wouldn’t even let me put on your Ghost Face mask, so busy saving it for Ghostie.”

“Saving myself too,” you note, grinning down at him.

“Yeah?” 

“We’ve talked every night since Sunday- I haven’t cum in over a week.” 

“Fuck, Tiny,” Johnny groans. “I guess I better help you out then.”

“Really? How are you going to do that?”

“I’ll let you stay on top for a while, let you grind against me until you’re begging for me to tear your dress off.” He pulls at the strap on your shoulder. “Then, I’ll flip you over, get on my knees, and eat you out like the good girl you are, stretching you open with my fingers.”

“And then?”

“When you’re shaking and delirious from cumming, I’ll fuck you right. Bet you’ve never really been fucked right before.”

God, you definitely haven’t. At least- you know you’ve never been fucked the way Johnny is about to fuck you.

“What if I already want you to tear my dress off?” you ask, grinding down against his cock.

Johnny lets out a low groan, grinning at you. “Tiny, you’re nowhere near begging yet.”

“I’m not?” You lean forward, pressing a kiss to his throat before your teeth drag against his earlobe. “Please, Ghostie, I’m already so fucking wet, you wouldn’t believe it-”

He laughs, hand finding your hair again. He tugs you away from his neck, pressing his lips to your own and kissing you hard.

He takes your breath away. His tongue is perfect, licking and tasting- making you moan loudly while you work your hips, swiveling on his denim-covered cock.

“Fuck, Ghostie, you’re so fucking big-”

“You haven’t seen anything yet,” he promises, grabbing a fistful of your ass and squeezing so hard it almost hurts. But the pain is wonderful, and you cry out in ecstasy, working yourself harder against him.

If it wasn’t for his enticing cock, you think you could make out with him like this forever. 

You just want to be naked, so you grab at your dress, intent on lifting it off-

Johnny stops you. “I’ve told you patience is a virtue, haven’t I, Tiny?”

You groan in annoyance. “John, please-”

“Ghostie,” he corrects you.

You don’t even care- you simply grab his hand, guiding it between your legs. His fingertips brush over your soaked panties, and you gasp at the feeling of him, immediately grinding down, looking for relief.

“Fuck-” you moan, closing your eyes and throwing your head back.

He begins to circle your clit through your thong and you’re forced to grab at his shoulder to steady yourself, whimpering loudly. 

“Shit, Tiny, you’re so fucking pretty,” he whispers.

“I need you,” you gasp, feeling an orgasm already bubbling in the pit of your stomach. “Please, move my panties to the side-”

Johnny doesn’t question you this time. He pulls your thong away, easily burying two large fingers into your wet, needy core.

Now you’re really gasping. You lean forward, wrapping both arms around his strong shoulders and burying your face against his throat. “Oh my God, Ghostie- don’t stop-”

“You’re going to cum from this, aren’t you, pretty girl?”

You nod desperately, swiveling your hips so your clit can rub against the palm of his hand while his fingers work you open. 

“So good,” you whimper. “So fucking good-”

Johnny groans, curving his fingers and stroking your gspot.

You squeal in his lap, thigh muscles clenching while your pussy begins to throb around the foreign intrusions. You’re so close to the edge you can almost taste it.

“Want you to cum for me. Wanna hear your sounds while you drip down my hand.” 

Fuck, he’s way too sexy, voice all low and seductive. He’s breathing hard, and you can tell you’re turning him on just from riding his fingers-

“Come on, Tiny, who’s my good girl?”

“I am-” you gasp, digging your nails into his shoulders as your orgasm hits you straight on. 

You moan loudly, burying your face against Johnny’s neck. You’re panting against his skin, wiggling your hips while his fingers continue inside of you, driving you absolutely insane. Waves of pleasure are overtaking your form, and your mind is completely blank, overwhelmed by the feeling of ecstasy that Johnny provides for you.

“That’s it,” Johnny encourages you. “So fucking good for me.”

You’re shaking on his lap by the time your high is over, and you press wet kisses to his throat, earning groans from your Ghostie. 

You reach down for your dress, lifting it up and off your body. Johnny pulls back, watching you with dark eyes. He takes his fingers out of your wet pussy, bringing them to his lips to clean. But he’s not done there, as you toss the fabric to the floor, Johnny offers you his digits next. 

You lock eyes with him for a moment before leaning forward and accepting, taking his wet fingers into your mouth and helping suck them clean. You groa at the taste of yourself. Johnny watches the motion, his free hand finding your hip and forcing you to grind down against his cock. 

“You’re so hot, Tiny,” he says, removing his fingers from your lips.

“Wait till you see me naked,” you grin, reaching behind yourself to undo your bra. 

It falls away easily, and Johnny’s large hands cup your breasts almost immediately. His head dips, eyes taking in your newly exposed skin. “Fuck, how does a girl get this perfect?”

“How does a guy get a massive cock like yours?” you counter, rubbing yourself against the front of his jeans. 

“Touche,” he chuckles, leaning down to lick your nipple. 

You thread your fingers through his hair, guiding him to show more affection to your chest, which he’s more than happy to do. His large hand cups your right breast while he worships your other with his mouth, suckling on your nipple. His teeth drag gently against the sensitive bud and you moan loudly, rocking your hips all the while.

“As much as I’d love to keep sucking on your tits,” Johnny sighs, lips moving up your throat again, “I’d rather be between your legs.”

“Ghostie, do whatever you want to me,” you instruct, feeling delightfully submissive.

“You got it, Tiny.” 

In one easy motion, he flips you so your back is on the bed. Johnny pulls away from you, sinking to his knees at the edge of the mattress before grabbing you and tugging you closer. He tears his own shirt off, giving you a great view of muscles that make you even wetter. Then he grabs your panties, sliding them down your legs so you’re completely bare for him now.

Johnny doesn’t say anything, he simply licks his lips and dives into you. His tongue parts your folds, dipping inside to taste your walls while your legs shake around his head. “Fuck, Ghostie-”

You reach down to grab his hair, applying enough pressure to his head to let him know you’re enjoying what he’s doing… if he can’t already tell from your desperately needy moans. 

His lips move to suction on your clit and a squeal escapes you, your back arching slightly at the sensation. 

You’re sensitive from having cum already, sensitive from having not cum all week only to be getting this much attention now. But you’re also probably sensitive because this is Johnny, because there’s been a build-up that’s left you ready to pop, and he seems intent on making you pop multiple times for him.

“Oh my God,” you whimper, eyes closed, abdominal muscles tensing with effort as his skilled tongue works you up again. 

Johnny groans against your pussy and it’s one of the sexiest things that’s ever happened to you. Your grip on his hair tightens, your core throbbing with pleasure already.

When he adds two fingers into your dripping hole, you know you’re not going to last, but you don’t think he wants you to.

In fact, you’d bet that Johnny himself is just about ready to explode. You can’t believe he doesn’t have his cock out yet- can’t believe he’s so intent on making you cum twice before getting any satisfaction for himself.

“Fuck, Ghostie-” You want to tell him how close you are to cumming, but you can hardly get the words out between your moans. “I’m- holy shit-”

Johnny finger fucks you even harder, his mouth focusing on your clit, and you’re pretty sure he’s understood your garbled attempt to warn him, pretty sure he wants you to cum.

You allow yourself to find your release, your back arching again as you tug on Johnny’s hair, keeping his face between your legs. You grind down slightly, your body chasing your orgasm as it surges through you like fire in your veins.

Johnny lets out a low groan again, and your entire body twitches at the extra stimulation. You’re gasping now. Nothing has ever felt this good-

To his credit, Johnny tries to help you through your entire orgasm, but he pulls away before you’re truly finished. You can feel him panting against your pussy, and when you open your eyes to look down at him, you find Johnny staring at you with the horniest expression you’ve ever seen on a man.

“Ghostie-” you whimper, shifting against his duvet. 

“Condoms,” he says, pulling his fingers out of your core and standing up.

“I’m on birth control,” you tell him quickly, making him freeze. “And if we’re both clean-”

Johnny practically moans at the idea, looking down at your body. “Does my Tiny want to be filled up all nice and good?”

Now it’s your turn to groan, and you nod, licking your lips. You sit up next, feeling your skin heat at the words you want to say, “I also… I wanna suck you off first.”

Johnny approaches the bed again, towering over you. It’s hard to focus on his eyes when his abs and strong biceps and veiny forearms are drawing your attention, but when he cups your jaw it makes things easier. “What did I ever do to deserve you?”

“You pretty much stalked me for a week,” you tease, grinning.

Your Ghostie lets out a laugh. He doesn’t bother to check you on the word ‘stalking’ this time, even though he’s always been adamant that’s not what he was up to. It’s nice to have this little win, and as a reward for him biting his tongue, you reach out to undo his belt.

As the buckle unclasps and you move to his zipper, there’s a loud banging on the door.

Johnny looks over his shoulder and you can hear Hyuck screaming “Tequila!” 

The frat boy in front of you lifts his finger to his lips, a shushing motion, and then he reaches into his back pocket for his phone. You bet he’s going to text Hyuck some lie about not being in the room, but you’re too horny to slow down.

You get his jeans undone and you bundle your hands up in all the fabric, roughly tugging them down.

Johnny lets out a groan when his large cock slaps up against his abdomen, and he moves his phone to the side to give himself a better view, holding it with one hand while raising a brow at you.

You’re on your knees at the foot of the bed now while Johnny stands there, and you steady yourself, grabbing the base of his cock. With one last wink at Ghostie, you lean forward, kitten licking his length from balls to tip.

The man above you quickly types in the text, then tosses his phone to the side, his large hand coming down to cup your cheek. You take this as a sign to accept him into your mouth, so you do exactly that.

He’s so large and thick- you haven’t sucked cock in a while, and you’ve never sucked a cock as big as his. You know you can take your time, Johnny’s always been patient with you. 

You start by paying attention to the head, swirling your tongue around him and getting used to his size. Your eyes close, mind focused completely on your task. You’re already drooling from this, and you can feel your saliva dripping down his shaft. You smooth your thumb along the new trail of spit, helping lube your hand so you can begin to pump his cock.

“Fuck,” Johnny groans, tightening his grip in your hair.

You try to sink your mouth further onto his cock, but it’s difficult. He’s just so huge-

Your pussy throbs knowing that soon, this monster dick is going to be inside of you-

Without any lube that you’ve seen so far, you want to make him as slicked up as possible, and it helps that you’re drooling from how sexy all of this is.

His cock hits the back of your throat and you gag slightly, powering through the uncomfortable feeling as you glide your tongue along his shaft. You’re not a quitter.

“Holy fuck, Tiny-” Johnny praises you. “You don’t have to try to take more than you can handle-”

But you want to. You want to pleasure him the way he’s pleasured you, and his words only prompt you to suck harder, earning more groans from the man above you.

“You’re so good at this,” he continues his words of encouragement, and they do help you take him deeper. His voice is smooth, sexy, and thankfully not modulated in any way. 

You’ve never realized how nice John’s voice really is. 

You apply more pressure with your hand, pumping him faster-

“Okay, okay-” Johnny tugs gently on your hair, prompting you to pull off of his cock and blink up at him in confusion. “I have to fuck you now. I’m done waiting.” 

You let out a tiny mewl, nodding. 

Johnny kicks off his jeans completely, pressing a knee onto the bed. He leans down to kiss you, and then he’s grabbing your body. In one easy motion, he tosses you a few feet up the mattress, so your head can land against the pillows.

God, he makes you feel truly Tiny- it’s one of the sexiest things ever.

He takes his place between your legs next, lips finding yours. One of his hands cups your cheek, and the kiss deepens, his tongue invading your mouth while your arms wrap around his strong shoulders.

You can feel his cock sliding between your pussy lips, and it’s almost embarrassing how wet you are, how much drool you’ve left on him. 

“Please-” you whimper. You can’t wait another moment either, you have to know what he feels like. You reach your hand between your bodies, grabbing his cock so you can line him up with you properly. “Ghostie, I can’t-”

He kisses you, cutting you off. Something tells you Johnny understands, and the moment you have him properly situated, he begins to push into you.

You gasp against his lips, letting go of his cock so you can grab his shoulders. He’d worked you open with his fingers two times over, but nothing compares to this. You can feel your walls stretching to accommodate his impressive girth, and it leaves you practically brain-dead.

“Let me know if it’s too much,” Johnny tells you, lips moving to your throat so he can suck on your sweet spot while he continues to burry into your hot, wet core.

You wrap your legs tightly around his hips, closing your eyes while the feeling of him overtakes you. You’ve never moaned like this before, never felt anything like Johnny-

He groans loudly against your skin, gently thrusting, coating his cock in your juices to make things easier-

The moment his hips hit flush to yours, his full cock buried inside of you, you both gasp. Johnny grabs at your hands, interlocking your fingers and pinning them to the pillows on either side of your head.

“Fuck, you’re so big, you’re so-” You can’t even think, especially not when he takes another test thrust.

His cock drags against your inner walls and you cry out, body tingling. 

“You take me so well, Tiny,” he praises you, mouth still hot on your throat. “The perfect fit.” 

You can’t speak, not now, but you can squeeze his hands and tilt your head to the side, kissing his cheek. Johnny takes the cue to bring his lips back to yours, and you’re immediately lost in yet another breathtaking makeout session.

He’s moving slow, fucking into you at a gentle pace, allowing your body to get used to his massive size. 

But you’re feeling particularly desperate, and greedy. “More.” 

“More?” He laughs. “You sure about that?”

You nod, eager to be decimated by him. “Please, ruin me-”

Johnny groans, letting go of one of your hands so he can press his palm flat to the bed, giving himself more leverage. He begins to fuck you faster, and each meeting of his cock to your core has you whimpering like a whore in heat.

“You make the cutest fucking sounds,” Johnny breathes.

Only he - with his cock making you feral - would call your noises of pleasure cute.

He’s so stupidly endearing.

“Fuck, Tiny, you’re dripping- making this too fucking easy for me.” 

It’s absolutely embarrassing how wet you are. He’s gliding into you with no issues now, and each movement is like heaven. The head of his cock hits a spot deep in your stomach- you can’t help but reach down, pressing your palm to your abdomen-

You can feel him rearranging your guts, and you both groan when you apply a bit of pressure.

“Deep, huh?” Johnny lets out a moaned chuckle. 

“So deep-” you agree, words slightly garbled. 

“I’ve just started with you and you can hardly speak,” Johnny muses. “Wonder what’s gonna happen when I make you cum again.”

You cry out desperately, removing your hand from your stomach so you can claw at his hair, bringing his lips back to your own.

You’re tired of thinking- all you want to do is experience this, experience him, at your fullest- and boy, are you fucking full.

Johnny lets go of your other hand, reaching for your thigh. He adjusts it higher on his hip and suddenly he’s driving into you even deeper.

Your eyes roll into the back of your head and you gasp loudly against his lips. Johnny traces his tongue along your teeth, and you can feel him smirking.

You love that he’s enjoying this- enjoying watching you come completely undone for him.

“You know,” he says, “if you keep squeezing me like that, I’m not going to last long.”

You don’t even care. You know this isn’t the only time you’ll be fucking this man- and after cumming twice already, your body is near its limit of pleasure, if that’s even possible. In fact, there’s something very sexy about making a man cum quicker than he’s used to, and your pussy clenches at the thought. 

“Fuck,” Johnny groans again. “Can I flip you over?”

At this point, you’ll agree to any request, and you nod quickly, biting at your lip.

With one last kiss, Johnny pulls away from you. His cock slips out of your core and you whine at  the loss, only for his two large hands to grab your waist and manually turn you onto your stomach. Then he adjusts your hips, pulling you up into doggy position.

“If you need to scream, use the pillows,” Johnny warns you, lining up with your pussy again.

The first thrust has you doing exactly that. You bury your face into the pillow, letting out a loud cry as his cock hits deeper than before. 

This position might just kill you, but you don’t care.

His hands feel so good- so large and warm and steady on your hips as he finds an even rougher pace.

You can hear your ass smacking loudly against his front with each thrust and it only adds to your arousal. 

Bunching your hands up in his duvet, you do your best not to be so loud that the whole frat will hear you. But it’s so difficult not to just melt under him- 

You can feel your eyes welling with pleasure-fueled tears, and it drives you crazy.

“Fuck, you like this position, don’t you, pretty girl?”

“Yes, Ghostie!” you gasp, nodding while his cock continues to make you feel like absolute heaven.

“You look fucking perfect like this,” he tells you. “Face down, ass up. Pretty soon you’ll be begging for me to fill you up even more.”

His words flip a switch inside of you. “God, yes, please-” you cry out. “I want it so bad-”

“Want what?”

“Want your cum,” you whimper. “Wanna be so full-”

Johnny groans, grabbing rough fistfuls of your ass while he fucks you even harder. 

“I need it, Ghostie, I need it-” You’re crying now, and Johnny notices.

He bends over your back, bracing an arm across your chest so he can lift you onto your knees. He cups your jaw, thumb stroking through a tear track. “Holy shit, Tiny,” he moans, mouth hot against your shoulder. 

“Please, Ghostie, please-” you whimper, lower lip trembling-

You’re so close-

Johnny lets go of your jaw, and his hand slips down your front. You jolt when his fingers make contact with your clit, wriggling in his grasp.

“I’m almost there, Tiny,” he admits. “Watching you cum will tip me over the edge- you’ll be good and cum for me, right?”

All you can do is nod. Words are gone. Your mind is blank except for the pleasure that’s coursing through you.

Your noises are getting pitchier, and Johnny works you all the way to your peak. You gasp loudly as you topple over the edge, core clamping down hard on his cock.

Your legs feel like jelly, and Johnny releases you, allowing you to fall to the bed while your orgasm ravages your form. You’re clawing at the sheets, burying your face in his bed to muffle your screams-

His hands are bruising on your hips, and you hear him let out a loud groan. You can feel him filling you up, his motions faltering ever so slightly. His breath is hot against your shoulders and it’s added stimulus that makes you twitch, so completely overwhelmed that it almost feels like you’re about to black out.

But you don’t want to miss a second of this. His groans of pleasure keep you in the moment even as your mind is in a sex daze. 

Johnny rides you through your high, thrusts slowing until he comes to a stop behind you. 

You’re both breathing heavily now, and Johnny stays still for a moment, enjoying the last of your orgasm aftershocks. Then he flattens his chest to your back, hand falling to the bed next to  your own. 

“Holy shit,” he breathes. 

You can’t help but let out a small laugh, and it makes Johnny groan as your core clenches again.

He kisses your shoulder, lips oddly tender in comparison to the way he just blew your back out. 

“Ghostie-” you whimper, wanting to collapse on his bed from exhaustion. 

“Stay still, I’ll get something to clean you up,” he assures you, pressing one last kiss to your skin before straightening from your back. 

You miss his warmth as soon as he’s gone, and you especially miss his cock when it slides out of you. 

You feel him get off the bed, and a moment later, something begins to drip down your inner thighs. He really filled you up, and it makes you twitch. You reach a hand between your legs, cupping your core and rolling onto your back on his bed, trying to breathe properly.

Johnny is back a second later, and you can feel his gaze on you.

“Spread these thighs for me, Tiny,” he says gently, touching your knee. 

You open your eyes, and then you open your legs. 

Johnny moves your hand out of the way, letting out a groan. “You have no idea how fucking hot this is-” he tells you, wiping your core clean of his cum. 

You still don’t have it within yourself to speak, you can only watch him toss the tissue in the garbage before you’re making grabby hands at him.

Johnny laughs. He sits on the bed next to you, leaning against the headboard before scooping you into his lap. He’s so fucking big, and he makes you feel safe cuddled in his arms, your cheek pressed to his chest.

His heart is still racing, and it makes you feel better to know you’re not the only one who’s so affected by this.

Johnny’s fingers begin to thread through your hair, and he simply holds you while you come out of subspace. 

The party is still in full swing outside, and it’s an interesting feeling to have such a private moment with Johnny in the middle of a frat on Halloween. 

“Do you think anyone heard us?” you ask finally.

Johnny laughs. “Don’t worry about it,” he says soothingly. 

You pull away from his chest, looking up at him. His hand moves to cup your face and you press your lips to his. It’s a much gentler kiss than he’d given you mid-fuck, and it eases your racing heart. 

“Ghostie?”

“Yeah, Tiny?” 

“I like you a lot.”

He lets out another chuckle. “I like you too.”

“We’ll do this again sometime, right?”

“Of course, Tiny.” His hand smooths up and down your back. “I’d also like to take you on dates, if you’ll let me.”

“I’d like that,” you nod, relaxing against his chest again. “And… and when you call me, no more voice modulator.”

“No?”

“I like your voice, your real voice.” God, you’re feeling so soft and mushy for him.

“I like your voice too.” For a second, it’s a sweet moment, and then Johnny continues, “Liked listening to your whimpers.”

He’s such a frat boy, but you kind of love him for it. “Did you like my tears too?”

“Only if they’re for a good reason,” Johnny says. “If anyone else ever makes you cry, I’ll have to fuck them up.”

“My protective Ghostie,” you grin, leaning up to kiss the underside of his jaw.

“As much as I’d love to stay cuddling you forever, I should probably bring the boys some tequila,” Johnny sighs.

“The boys,” you echo. “I feel like I’ve just fucked Mark and Hyuck’s dad.”

“Do you have a daddy kink, Tiny?”

“For you, I have any kink you want,” you laugh. 

“I like the sound of that.”

“Just… kiss me again?” you ask. “We can bring tequila after.”

“Are you sure you want to come with? You can stay here and I’ll come back-”

“We should…” you lick your lips, “we should be social.”

“I just fucked your brains out and you want to go be social?” Johnny grins. “Maybe I didn’t work you over well enough.”

“You worked me over perfect,” you laugh, grabbing at his jaw so you can press your lips to his.

Johnny melts into the kiss, and there’s something in it that feels like coming home. You’ve never felt this safe with a guy before, and it’s kind of starting to scare you.

If you were to stay here- you think you might even fall in love with Johnny… that is, if you haven’t already.

You pull away from your Ghostie, letting out a sigh. 

Getting out of his lap isn’t fun, and your legs are wobbly as you stand next to the bed, but Johnny’s hands go to your hips to steady you.

When he stands, he towers over you, and you’re overcome by your thirst for him all over again. You wrap your arms around the back of his neck, bringing him in for another kiss. 

It’s so easy to get lost in making out with Johnny, but you have to tear yourself away, nodding, “Tequila.”

“Tequila,” he echoes. “Can you stand by yourself?”

“I’m okay,” you assure him, but it still hurts when he lets you go. 

Johnny pulls on some sweatpants while you find your dress-

“You’re not putting that back on,” Johnny tells you, moving to his closet. “Let me give you some clothes.”

“Are you trying to announce to Mark and Hyuck that we’ve fucked?” you laugh, accepting the large t-shirt he throws your way.

“Trust me, Tiny, they’ll know.”

“Yeah? How’s that?”

“After this, I won’t be able to keep my hands to myself, and something tells me you won’t be able to either.” Johnny pulls on a hoodie, grabbing the tequila and turning to you. “I know you, remember?” 

You grin, pulling on the pair of black boxer shorts he’d also sent your way. “Maybe a little too well.” 

“Or not well enough,” Johnny suggests, approaching you again.

“You’re such a sweet talker.”

“Only for you,” he smirks, leaning down to kiss you again. “You look cute in my clothes.”

“Do I look like I just got fucked senseless?”

“Definitely.” 

“Mark’s going to hate you,” you laugh.

“He’ll get over it,” Johnny brushes it off, reaching for your hand. “Ready to go?”

“As ready as I’ll ever be.” 

“You can still stay here if you want.”

“No, let’s face this now.” You need to be firm, need to get out of this love den before you find yourself even more loved up.

The two of you head to his door and Johnny holds it open for you. 

In the time you’ve been fucking, it looks like a lot of people have dispersed from the party, so walking through the hallway isn’t exactly a walk of shame. However, when you get down the stairs to Mark’s floor, you realize you still have to pull up your big girl panties to face him.

“I’m going to run to the bathroom,” you tell Johnny, “I’ll meet you in Mark’s.”

“You don’t want me to come with you?”

“To the bathroom?” you laugh. “I think I’m good.”

With one last kiss, you make your way to the frat bathroom at the end of the hall. It’s important to go pee after sex, for UTI reasons, your sorority big sister has drilled that into you since first year. When you’re done, you head to the sink, daring a look at yourself in the dirty mirror.

You look fucked, but you also look happy. 

In fact, you can’t stop smiling. 

After washing your hands, you dab some water on your throat, hoping it will calm you down. Once you feel good and ready, you exit the bathroom.

Mark’s door is open when you get to his room, and you poke your head inside. 

Jaehyun and Hyuck are on one bed, Mark and Johnny on the other, and they’re all lifting shots to their mouths. As you step inside, Mark’s gaze shifts to you. He takes in your new outfit and his eyes widen, then he spits out his shot, coughing loudly. 

Johnny’s hand finds Mark’s back while he practically coughs up a lung, and then Mark is leaping to his feet. “What-” His eyes dart between you and Johnny, and you can see the realization there. 

“Jesus, Mark, learn how to handle a shot,” Hyuck scoffs.

Mark doesn’t even entertain Hyuck, he simply turns to his big, pointing an accusatory finger at Johnny’s chest. “You’re Ghostie!?”

Johnny stands up. “You’re the one who gave me her number last year.”

“I what?!” Mark’s eyes are practically bulging out of his head now.

Hyuck and Jaehyun exchange a look, and Hyuck reaches for the tequila to pour another shot.

“Mark, it could be worse-” you say, trying to de-escalate the situation while stepping further into the room.

“How could it be worse!?” Mark bellows. “My Big is a stalker!”

“He’s not a stalker,” you defend Johnny, coming to join your tall new lover, your hand reaching for his.

“You’re her new boss!” Mark insists.

“Hyuck fucked our last bar manager,” Johnny points out.

“Guilty,” Hyuck smirks over the rim of his new shot.

Mark’s still not having any of this situation. “This is fucked up.”

“Mark, I’ve told you a million times, it’s spooky season.” You can’t help but giggle. This has been such a turn of events, but you wouldn’t want it any other way.

“You better not hurt her,” Mark says next, trying to meet Johnny’s gaze even while substantially shorter. 

“I won’t,” Johnny promises. 

“This is just-” Mark shakes his head. “Fuck this, I need to sleep.”

“We can move the party to my room,” Jaehyun says, already grabbing the bottle of tequila while Hyuck reaches for his bong.

It’s clear Mark’s done talking, and he collapses onto his bed face first like a tantruming toddler. You’ll discuss this with him another day, but you know now is probably not the time to push him to accept that his Big has a whole different side to him that Mark’s never seen. 

As you leave the room with Hyuck, Johnny and Jaehyun, Hyuck elbows you in the side. “I always knew you’d end up with one of us.”

“Yeah?” you laugh, gaze shifting to Johnny and Jaehyun who walk a few feet ahead of you.

“Once an NCT girl, always an NCT girl,” Hyuck nods. “And between us…” he leans closer, “Johnny is a good one.”

Your Ghostie looks over his shoulder at you, and you meet his gaze with a smile. “He is,” you agree. “Hey, John?”

“Yes, Tiny?” He stops at the door to the stairwell, holding it open and allowing you to catch up.

“I changed my mind, I think I am done with the party tonight.”

“Yeah?” Johnny smirks. “Gonna come back to my room?”

“If you invite me.”

“Tiny, my room has an open-door policy for you now.”

“Is that so?” you wrap your arms around his neck, leaning up to press a kiss to his lips.

“Uh huh,” Johnny grins. “And free cuddles, anytime you want them.”

“I like the sound of that,” you confess. 

“Just get married already!” Hyuck shouts back at the two of you as he climbs the stairs with Jaehyun. 

You and Johnny can only laugh at Hyuck. Your willpower is completely gone, and you allow your Ghostie to take you back to his room. 

He cuddles you close as the party dies down outside, and you find yourself slipping into the best sleep of your life on Halloween night with your Ghostie by your side.

☀️ mlist + an. thank you for reading! Halloween is my favourite Holiday, and there's something about Johnny and horror genre that makes me go feral

🍭 support me by. sending a tip here or here - or become a patron to access monthly bonus content and extensions for fics like this one :) find the Patreon teaser below! 

🔮 preview. There’s no way he should be this fucking sexy. You’re outside in the cold, parkas on, a Santa hat on his head, a joint between his lips,  both your jeans down to your knees, his hand over your mouth to stifle your moans, and he’s about to fuck you against a wall with his massive cock- you’ve decided that Johnny as a whole is simply illegal.

cw/ tw. Unprotected sex, exhibitionism in an alley, weed use, slight temperature play, big dick Johnny, quickie, cum kink/filling panties with cum while at work, praise, dirty talk, size kink, hand over mouth silencing, choking, etc… I pet names: (hers) Tiny, pretty girl, good girl. (his) Ghostie.

👹 rating. 18+ explicit I wc. 2.5k I teaser wc. 275

🌙 staring. Johnny x afab!reader

bonus

You’ve been dating Johnny for a month and a half and you still can’t get enough of him. Whenever you pop over to the frat, it’s not long before one of you is dragging the other to his room. There’s never been sexual chemistry like there is for you and your Ghostie.

You’d never thought your biggest hurdle in the workplace would be refraining from jumping your bar manager, but here you are, every shift, practically drooling over him. Each brush of his hands across your body as he moves behind you to grab something makes you want to tear his clothes off, and your patience is at an all-time low. 

With Christmas fast approaching, the bar scene has substantially dwindled, and it’s making you even more needy. When Skeets only has a handful of customers, you fill drink orders while thinking about sucking on Johnny’s cock. 

It doesn’t help that he’s started wearing a Santa hat- why does it make him even sexier?

As Johnny smiles and makes casual conversation with a pair of girls sitting at the bar, you do your best to calm yourself. At the end of the night, you’ll be the one in Johnny’s bed, you just have to get to closing.

You notice in the periphery of your vision that the girls are finishing up with their drinks. Johnny excuses himself to grab the card reader, and as he slips past your ass, you feel his hard cock in his jeans. It’s difficult to stifle a moan, and you do so by biting on your lip. 

He loves teasing you, especially while you’re at work, and it drives you absolutely mental.

☀️to read the full 2.5k bonus, subscribe to my Patreon - then - click here

👹 or check out what else is on my patreon here

🔮if nothing strikes your fancy, check out my m.list

general taglist

@gotshinct - @subhyuck - @fraechan - @learnthisfeeling

@runahways - @d-abin - @milkteade - @woogyuhae 

@anothershorthuman - @nihxxy - @vantxx95 - @bangshii

@poutypoutybin - @notbeforelong - @creepybakeoven

@ninetechculture - @yungiland - @suhsfam - @binchangf

@chogiwapadada - @librarian-stacks - @meowniee

@learnthisfeeling - @gigilame - @cumtrov3rsy

@mocha000 - @darthlunaa​ - @just-here-to-read-01​ - @shiningnono

@lovelyhan - @grilledbananas

✘ nct taglist

@milkyway-vxm - @nctsawrus - @shiningdery - @freezerandfame

@fairieblog - @fairybr3ad - @peachyjaemin - @chemaistry

@sehunniepot

Thank you to everyone who interacted with the teaser

@jujusnogood - @sharkiebby - @miriamxsworld - @jaehyunpeachyy

@04jnlee - @nctevia - @stolasisyourparent - @livelykookie

@chan-s-laptop - @ficrecnctskz

[luveline]

bombshell finds tickets to a russian movie thing sitting in spencer’s desk at work and they’re about to like run out (?) so she presents them to spencer and asks him on a date and pretends that she didn’t just pull them out of spencers desk in that bombshell way

You’re looking for gum. If Spencer were at his desk, you’d politely beg for a stick and he’d give it to you, but he’s not here, so you must search. 

You sit in his seat, slinking down as he does with poor posture, your kitten heels hitting the spine of a book kept under the desk. Your dress’ skirt rises up your thighs, the fabric at your neck pulls, but you have bigger problems. You’re feeling the weird franticness of unspent energy and only a stick of gum is gonna fix you. 

He has a drawer full of things, neatness traded for space. Blue and pink paper clips in an arrowhead shaped box. Push pins of all colours, their box more ordinary. He has a travel book on indigenous North American birds with stamps held between the pages, a plastic bottle cap, train stubs from Quantico to the station outside of his apartment and a bottle of ibuprofen missing half of its contents. 

Your fingers dig around for the familiar shape of a packet of gum, hesitating thoughtfully against the thread of a thicker cardstock. 

You pull a cream envelope from the desk and, perhaps wrongfully, unveil the contents: two tickets to see any Russian flick at the foreign language theatre free of charge (if you buy a large drink). They expire tonight. 

You press them to your chest and spin in Spencer’s chair without any regard for whoever might see you slouching. Across the office with his hair out of his face and a smile bordering lackadaisical stands your favourite. He even has a pencil in hand. He likes to underline things in the books he reads for your benefit. It’s the pencil that decides your next move. 

You stand up, brushing down your nice dress that he seems to like, a black cotton with thin pinstripes settling nicely just above your knees. You check your lipstick in the black reflection of his sleeping monitor, buzzing. 

He’s watching you when you turn back. You hide the tickets behind your hip and begin a light walk to his side, the chug of the printer a constant hum you can feel in your shoes. 

“What’s up?” he asks. 

You tilt your head toward your shoulder ever so slightly. “Can I ask you something?” 

“Sure.” He squints. “You’re acting strange.” 

“Suspicious,” you correct. 

“That, too.” 

“How come you let me hold your hand?” 

Spencer doesn’t hide his surprise at your question very well. His eyes turn deer in the headlights, then down to the printer. “What do you mean?” he asks. 

“When we first met, you wouldn’t shake my hand. And that’s okay,” —your smile is loving in the hope that he finds your question as the curiosity it is and not an interrogation— “I’m just wondering what changed.” 

“I was distracted.” He’s talking about the first time you took his hand, the two of you on the way to the office. “You stopped me from being late.” 

“Right, but I should’ve asked and I didn’t. And now we hold hands all the time.” You take a half step back. “I’m not trying to embarrass you, I’m just wondering.”

“Nobody’s held my hand in a really long time. And you’re mostly clean.” 

“Mostly!” you laugh, giving him a guilty smile. “I’m super clean, I just forget how gross door handles are sometimes.”

You have embarrassed him, in a way. It’s really not what you meant to do, not when you’re about to ask him on a date. 

Ever since you started your official position at the BAU, you and Spencer have grown closer, but there’s a difference between flirting because he’s lovely and flirting because you want him to be your boyfriend. (Not that he knows what you want.) You shouldn’t have started with the hand holding thing. 

“Spencer.” 

“Yeah?” 

“Will you go on a date with me?” You present him with the movie tickets. “Got these, they expire tonight…”

“Are those from my desk?” he asks, taking the tickets from you to look over closely. 

“I’d love to go with you, unless you’re gonna take someone else, which is fine.” You embarrass yourself a little, even though you’re not, hoping it makes up for the hand-holding investigation. “Yeah, they’re from your desk. Sorry. I really wanted a stick of gum, my– my nervous energy is through the roof today.” 

Spencer frowns at you again. “How come?” he asks softly. 

“I don’t know. It just happens sometimes.” 

And that’s nothing you’ve ever admitted to him. Your perfect mask is broken, and Spencer doesn’t look at you any differently. “Do you actually wanna go to the movies?” he asks. 

“Only if I’m not stealing you away from somebody else.” 

“There’s no one else.”

Spencer abruptly turns his attention to the printer, where he collects his copies and shuffles them into a straight, neat pile. 

You recover quickly, though inside your heart is a stuttering mess. “I should hope not,” you say. “Okay. Awesome. I’ll bring hand sanitiser and you can hold my hand through the previews.” 

[nerdy-novelist017]

i'm so in love with your little bunny series and i'm so glad you're writing for benny! i was wondering if you could write something about reader being a yapper, always talking a lot about things with so much excite and benny finds this the most cutest thing ever, but one day someone says that she's annoying for that, which makes her feel very self conscious and she starts to think that benny might feel the same since he's a very much quiter person, and benny assures her that is not the case? just fluffy and comfort to warm my heart <3 thank you already!

Anon, this is literally the cutest request ever omg!!! Thank you for the request, I had so much fun writing this! I paired this as another one shot for my Benny x Bunny series, hope you enjoy!

Word Count- 2k+

Summary- See request above.

Sweet Talking (Benny Cross x Shy!Reader)

You pressed a kiss to Benny’s cheek, whispering to him that you’d be right back as you stood and made your way around the bonfire. You pulled Benny’s jacket tighter around you to fend off the chilly evening air on your trek back to the house. The night was still young, the sun having just set an hour ago and these bikers would be up until the sunrise, all having caught their second wind from the race held earlier in the fields. The loudness of the bikes and the sheer excitement from the crowds was something you were still trying to get used to, but you found that you actually liked talking to these people. Once they included you in their conversations and picked topics that you could relate to as well, you found yourself talking a lot more than you ever have in your life. They laughed at your jokes, they called out to you when they saw you approaching, they really seemed to just adopt you into their club. You supposed, in the beginning, a majority of that was from Benny probably intimidating some members into being nice to you, but regardless of that, they still seemed to enjoy your company and your silly stories and random facts – especially the women of this club. 

Stepping through the back door, you were immediately greeted by the scent of cigarette smoke and booze, things you were also still trying to get used to. Several members were lounging on the couch, smoking and talking as you passed them on your way to the kitchen. You went to the fridge, opening it and lowering yourself to search for a cold pop for yourself. Voices filtered into your vicinity from the adjacent dining room. Just as you grab another beer for Benny, your ears perked up when you heard your name being said in passing and you froze behind the refrigerator door. 

“–She does have a sweet piece of ass on her though,” a male voice, sounding muffled most likely by a cigarette hanging from his lips. You smiled to yourself, biting your lip. You probably shouldn’t be listening to this, but curiosity rooted you to your spot as you tried peeking over the door to catch a look at who was speaking. 

“Jesus Christ, you can’t get her to shut up anymore.” another voice replied, much deeper and raspier than the first. “I miss when she would just stand there shaking like a leaf, all nervous and quiet.”

“Would it even be worth it to hit that? C’mon man, she’d gab your fucking ear off during it, totally kill the mood for me.”

Your smile slowly at their words, heart sinking. You should get up and leave, you told yourself. But you couldn’t force your legs to move.

“I’d put that mouth of hers to work on something else,” the first man said, chuckling darkly. You squeezed your eyes shut at the insinuation. 

“Don’t know how Benny–boy puts up with it. I’d have to gag her just to hear myself think–”

You stand abruptly, unable to listen to anymore of their hurtful words. Using a bit more force than you intended, you slammed the fridge door shut, the glass bottles rattling harshly inside from the force. Tears stung your eyes as you rushed back through the living room to the backdoor. You paused once you rounded the side of the house, sniffing in order to keep the tears at bay. They were just drunk assholes, you tried to tell yourself. Who cares what they think of you? 

But a few traitor tears escaped your lashes at the thought of Benny finding you annoying too. Benny– that quiet, easy-spoken man who you loved with everything in you. That quiet man who maybe didn’t like how you squealed with excitement when you saw someone you knew from across the room. That quiet man who maybe didn’t like when you giggled loudly at jokes told around the bonfire. That quiet man who was your exact opposite.

******

Benny could tell there was something wrong the second you came into view again, your figure illuminated by the orange flames of the bonfire as you moved to sit back down by him. Your hands were shoved in the pockets of his jacket, head tucked low. And beside him? It was rare that you didn’t sit on his lap anymore. 

You handed him a beer and he tried to catch your eyes because was that tears he saw coating your lashes? But you avoided his gaze, instead curling into his side and that’s how you stayed for the rest of the night, quiet as a mouse, until you eventually tugged on his sleeve and asked if you could go home. The ride home was also weird. You didn’t tap his shoulder and point to things that interested you like you normally did on the back of his bike. You stayed glued to his back, silent. 

Benny watched, brow furrowed, as you went about your nighttime routine in silence, the house you shared no longer filled with your usual chatter. He sat on the edge of the bed, wracking his brain with the possibilities of you being upset with him. (The silent treatment was often a go-to method of torture you used when Benny pissed you off) but he was at a loss. Something had to have happened when you left the bonfire. Anxiety spiked through him at the thought that maybe someone had done something to you, but no, you would have told him. He made you promise to always talk to him if someone at the club was bothering you. 

You changed into your nightgown and Benny’s heart squeezed at the sight of you avoiding his gaze once again as you turned and began brushing out your pin curls in the mirror. 

“Did you have a good time tonight?” he asked, unable to bare another second of your silence. 

“Mh-hm.” Came your short reply.

Benny swallowed. You were definitely upset. “You seem . . . quiet.”

That was definitely the wrong thing to say because you’re shoulders stiffened for a moment and he thought you might turn around and throw your brush at him. But instead, you responded in a small voice, “Just tired.”

He frowned. He’d seen you when you were tired, this was something else. He tried a different tactic. “Tell me about your day, Bunny.” 

You shrugged. “Not much happened.”

“Well, tell me about it. I wanna hear it.” He tried to catch your eyes as you put the brush down and stepped away from the vanity.

“Well, maybe I don’t wanna talk about it? I just want to go to bed, Benny.” you tried to move past him to go to your side of the bed but Benny reached out gently tugged on the hem of your nightgown, stopping you.

“Are you okay?” he asked softly, looking up at you. 

You nodded, but still refused to make eye-contact.

“What’s wrong?” he questioned. “Did someone do something to you tonight?”

You shook your head quickly and relief swept through him. “No, no. Nothing like that.”

His hands slid up to your hips and he pulled you closer to him. “Talk to me, Bunny. Please. I don’t understand what’s wrong.”

You swallowed, chin wobbling slightly. “Nothing happened . . . I just–I overheard some guys talkin’ is all.”

He remained silent and you continued hesitantly. “When I went to get a drink . . . they didn’t know I was there. And–and I should have left as soon as I heard them talking but . . .”

“What were they saying?”

You clenched your jaw and gave him a distressed look. 

He squeezed your hips encouragingly. “What were they saying?”

“It doesn’t matter–”

“It does to me,” he was quick to say. 

“They . . . they were talkin’ about how I talk . . . a lot. They said it was annoying. They were saying crude things about using my mouth for . . . other things.” you said slowly, voice wavering and you looked down in embarrassment.

Benny nodded and breathed out of his nose, counting to ten in his head to cool his suddenly white hot anger which bloomed in his chest. He had worked so hard to get you to feel comfortable around the club, to get you to come out of your shell and now someone had something to say about his girl—his sweet shy girl—talking? “Who was it?”

“Oh, Benny–” You pulled back from him. “Don’t go saying anything to them!”

“Why not?” He planned to do much more than talk to them.

“Because!” you cried, your voice going an octave higher. “That would make it worse! Besides, they’re–they’re right anyway.”

“Right about what?” he asked, bewildered at how they could possibly know you like he did.

“Well, I do talk a lot. A–and I know it can be annoying for someone who’s a lot more quiet.” 

“Annoying?” He laughed at the inaccuracy of that statement and you must have thought he was laughing at you because you took a big step back from him, out of his reach.

“I just don’t want to embarrass you,” you murmured, looking down at the carpet below you. 

Benny’s stomach fluttered apprehensively. There had been only a few times in his life where he wished he was better at talking, at communicating his feelings. He wanted to console you, to reassure you, that you could never be annoying or embarrassing to him. He wanted to tell you just how much you gave him purpose and helped him in his life. How you were his life. This was one of those times. 

He rose from the bed and approached you passively, trying to gather his thoughts. “I like when you talk. When we spend the day apart, I look forward to hearing about your day and what you did and what you saw while I was gone. And when we’re riding and you point to the little things like the flowers on the sidewalk or the sunsets, I like that. I really like that. And when you tell stories, you get so immersed and you start talking with your hands, I like that too. You’re so friendly to everyone, no matter what they look like or how well you know them and that’s one of my favorite things about you. You talkin’ could never embarrass me, Bunny, because it’s one of the reasons I love you.”

Tears welled up in your doe-eyes and he swallowed nervously. “Why are you crying?”

Suddenly, you were pressed so tightly to his chest, face burying into his shirt, hands holding onto him with such grip that Benny stumbled. He recovered quickly, wrapping his arms around your small frame.

“Oh, Benny,” you choked up. “You’re so sweet!” 

He wasn’t so sure about that, maybe only when it came to you. He sure as hell wasn’t going to be so sweet to those guys that spoke about you like that. He’d take a trip tomorrow to visit them personally, but for tonight, he belonged to you. He’d discovered that about himself from your relationship, from you. Even though he wanted to do things right when he wanted to, he couldn’t always. That’s what love was, putting others’ needs before your own. And tonight, you needed him, so he would be here.

His hands found your jaw and he tilted your head back to press a kiss to your forehead. “Will you come lay with me and tell me about your day?”

You nod, sniffing and Benny nearly melted at the smile you gave him. That was the smile he’d come to recognize as the one you had reserved for only him. Soft, sweet and totally perfect in every way. He pulled you gently back to bed and relished as you curled up against him. His heart was filled with warmth as he listened to you chatter on about your day and your friends and your thoughts, anything that came to mind. He’d ask questions every once in a while to keep you going, but he mostly stayed quiet, because to him, you were so captivating and cute. You both talked throughout the night, you slowly getting lower and lower into his side until finally falling asleep, your conversation temporarily paused until the morning.

-Tag List-

@imusicaddict  @elizabeth916  @jaiuneamesolitaiire  @dudii4love @ironmooncat  @beebeechaos  @astrogrande  @pearlparty  @themorriganisamonster  @sillylittlethrowaway  @ughdontbeboring  @penwieldingdreamer  @charmingballoon  @eugene-emt-roe  @sunnbib @semperamans  @groovyangelkisses  @killerqueenfan @cynic-spirit  @pomtherine  @tranquilty  @m00npjm  @twisteduniverse5  @justsomewritingblog  @nhlfs  @thepassionatereader  @rebecca-hvnstn  @nethanybear @dreamlandcreations  @buckysteveloki-me  @simsiddy  @zablife  @sansaorgana  @autumnleaves1991-blog  @charmingballoon  @butler-trouble @lindszeppelin @jaiuneamesolitaiire  @wavyjassy @real-lana-del-rey  @cynic-spirit @pomtherine  @ilovehyperfixating  @xcallmetaniax  @lovenewfandoms  

[amiableness]

Dad!James Potter x Bsf!Reader ☼ 631 words | briefly 18+ and a comment that implies henry looks similar to reader

“Your wife is gorgeous!” Exclaims Cassie, a girlfriend of one of Sirius’s school friends. She’s had a bit too much to drink, her cheeks flushed and eyes slightly glazed as she sways unsteadily in front of James. He worries she might topple over at any moment.

“I don’t have—” James starts to correct her, his voice tinged with awkwardness. He knows she’s talking about you. You two have been inseparable all night, except for now, as you dance with Sirius across the bar.

“Oh! And your son!” Cassie interrupts, her voice loud and enthusiastic, waving her drink around dangerously. “You two make the most beautiful babies!” She beams at him, her grin wide and tipsy, clearly not registering the odd look on James’ face.

The statement hits him like a punch to the gut, knocking the breath out of his lungs. It takes him a moment to regain his composure and remember how to breathe. 

You two make beautiful babies.

Without warning, his mind flashes with a vivid image of you in his bed. He sees you lying there, hands gripping the sheets, legs bent and spread open. Your lips are swollen and darkened from his kisses, your eyes filled with a wild, intense longing. He can almost hear your voice, and the way you’d moan so sweetly for him. The way you’d beg him to fuck you raw, to fill you up and make you his. 

Cassie’s words echo relentlessly in his mind, looping with a relentless intensity. 

He takes a deep gulp of his whiskey, hoping the fiery burn will drown out the swirling thoughts that keep resurfacing. The more he tries to push them away, the more vivid they become. He doesn’t need to be consumed by these thoughts right now, but they keep intruding, making his heart race and his mind spin.

“Do you think you’ll have more?” Cassie asks, her eyes sparkling with curiosity. James’s gaze snaps to her, noting how eager she seems to dive into the details.

James’s mouth parts, and he flounders for a moment, struggling to find an answer. He had never considered having more children, especially after the difficult experience with Henry’s mother. But if you were the mother of his children, he could be convinced to have one more.

Or five.

“Hey, uh, babe,” her boyfriend says, wrapping his arm around her waist. She leans into him affectionately. “They’re not together, and Henry isn’t her son.” 

James racks his brain, trying to remember the guy's name. He only knew Cassie because she had introduced herself so enthusiastically.

Cassie gasps and slaps her hand to mouth, “I’m so sorry!”

“It’s alright, really. A lot of people mistake her for my wife,” James says with a smile, trying to ignore the clench in his stomach at the thought of calling you his wife. And fuck, he wishes you were.

He needs to get out of here. For a fleeting moment, he considers calling Henry’s babysitter to let her know she can head home, as he’s on his way to take over.

“Really, I’m sorry,” she says, her words slightly slurred. “I tend to ramble after a drink.” Her boyfriend catches James’s eye over her shoulder, raising an amused eyebrow. They both know it’s more than just one drink.

The couple strolls away, and James watches them until they disappear into the crowd. He lets out a weary sigh, leaning heavily against the bar as he stares down at the whiskey in front of him. Despite his strong urge to turn around and search for you in the crowd, he knows it won’t ease the dirty images of you in his mind.

He feels a pang of guilt, knowing that you’re his best friend and he can never have you in that way.

please reblog or comment with your thoughts! they are very appreciated and keep me motivated to keep writing! 🤍

Dad!James and Bsf!Reader Masterlist

[kiame-sama]

Humans Are Extinct (Yandere!TWST x Fem!Reader) Monster AU

Warnings; Several yanderes, platonic yanderes, romantic yanderes, yandere behavior, monster au, fem reader, no one starts off knowing reader is fem so they/them pronouns used, deranged behavior, spiders, driders, centaurs, unicorns, Nemean lions, werewolves, selkies, minotaurs, genies, nagas, magic, threats, panic,

~~~~~~~~

Nothing made sense anymore.

None of what you saw could have possibly been real, and even if it was, where did that leave you? The area was not familiar and you had gone through one of those mirrors to get where you were. Hopefully those... things... wouldn't think to look for you where you decided to hide out until you got a plan together. This was all provided you could think of a plan despite everything going on around you.

When you had woken up inside a coffin, the panic had set in so quickly. Since the very second that coffin spilled you out on the marble floors to the odd creatures that greeted you with unhindered curiosity, you were afraid and lost. Even now as impossible things had taken place, a thought echoed in your head from what one of the creatures had said.

I thought Humans were extinct?

Certainly a few of those you saw around you looked human, but most were some kind of creature or abominable hybrid. None of it made sense because creatures like this couldn't possibly exist, right? If that was true, you were suffering some kind of psychotic break. But if it wasn't true, if you could actually trust your eyes to tell you the truth, then you had something completely new to deal with.

Exhaustion hit you hard enough that you couldn't help but cuddle close to your stone companion and shelter, seeking comfort in the cold statue.

~•§•~

Eyes slowly flickered open in the dark, searching with sleep-hazed confusion at the oddly cramped surroundings. Attempting to lift your hands only made more confusion race through your mind as some kind of lid stopped you from completing the motion. The fog of sleep that had hung so heavy in your mind was now replaced with sharp awareness and clarity, throwing you into a state of panic as you realized you were trapped.

The dark container you found yourself in had you thrashing and desperate for freedom from your newfound confines. Your kicking and thrashing- painful against the lid of your container- managed to actually knock the top loose and slightly ajar. That bit of light from outside was the only encouragement your knowledge deprived brain needed to know it was doing the right thing by struggling. What you didn't expect was the feeling of this human-sized container pitching forward to spill you out unceremoniously on the ground.

The cold surface beneath you felt even colder on your soft face, wondering just where you were and why all of your memories leading up to that moment were just a blur. You didn't have long to spend on your musings before an unusual voice reached your ears, closer to a baritone than a tenor but still a masculine sounding tone.

"Oh my, I thought we had all of the students accounted for. Could it be I miscounted?"

You pushed yourself up with your hands to try and face whoever was speaking, seeing an oddly feathered man with dark black hair walking towards you. He wore a mask- or perhaps he truly had a beak- that made him look like a rather large corvid walking towards you. Despite his humanoid features, something in the back of your mind told you that this man was not what he appeared at first glance. Even his bright yellow eyes that shined from beneath the black mask seemed inhuman as they studied you intently.

"You certainly don't seem like one of the sudents I selected. I'm fairly sure I would remember someone odd... like you..?"

The man stopped in his tracks, regarding you strangely as if he were actually looking at you now. He certainly wasn't recognizeable to you and you had no sense of familiarity upon seeing him. Something about you must have caught the man's attention as he cocked his head to the side, crouching next to you and observing you keenly. Something about the way he moved was so bird-like you wondered if he was pretending to be some character or if there were actually something inhuman about him.

"I don't often need to ask this question, and I am very curious now what your answer will be, but what are you?"

That was certainly an odd question. You thought the answer would have been obvious, but something about the whole situation made you feel like what you were going through wasn't normal.

"Human..? Isn't everyone?"

There was a long moment of silence and it was in this silence you decided to look around now that your poor face stopped hurting from your abrupt meeting with the ground. You were in the center of a large room where what seemed to be dozens of coffins with various sizes and shapes floated around you. The container you came from was also a coffin and you could see where you had actually damaged the smooth wood with your desperate attempt at freedom.

Beyond the floating coffins- as surreal as they were- you noticed that you were not the only two present. Many others were standing around you, all in the same black, purple, and gold robes. All looking at you with unguarded curiosity. It was as you looked at these unusually robed people that you began to realize none of them looked particularly human. The more you searched, the clearer it became that none of those standing around you seemed to be fully human.

One of those standing there was a heartbreakingly beautiful bird-man with smooth complexion and flawless makeup darkening his lovely purple eyes. His fair blond hair woven with long feathers. Behind him was a long train of peacock feathers in iridescent colors that seemed all the more colorful beneath the flicking candlelight. As he noticed you glance at him, he seemed to almost puff out his chest in pride and the feather train behind him ruffled ever so slightly.

There was what you could only describe as a some kind of horned horse-man standing not too far from the bird-man. He had fiery red hair that complimented his smokey blue eyes, a prominent golden horn sat in the middle of his forehead with two long strands of hair framing the protrusion. His horse-half had pure white fur, the tail of the horse sporting the same flaming hair the human-half had. The hooves on the horse half were that same sparkling golden that made the hybrid almost seem regal in a way.

Even beyond the two oddities you saw more and more inhuman features on the beings standing around you. There was a light murmur of conversation humming through the air and that was when you caught something unusual.

"I thought humans were extinct?"

You were brought back to attention by the man in front of you clapping his hands as he stood back to full height. He had an unsettling smile playing on his lips and he regarded you the same way one would regard a lost puppy sitting, shivering from fear and cold at their door.

"You actually are a human, aren't you? How amazing! To think, a human just appeared at my College after centuries of one not even being sighted! How thrilling. This certainly is an unusual situation, and it is my duty as Headmage to safeguard such an endangered creature. Worry not, little human, you are safe here. Aren't I just the kindest?"

You felt like you had been dropped in some wretched nightmare that made no sense despite how desperately you searched for it. There was no such thing as horned horse men, or crow men, or peacock men! None of this was possibly happening because these things just didn't exist where you were from. Maybe as a child you had believed such lies, but as an adult you couldn't comprehend these creatures possibly existing. It was just madness.

It was as you were pulling yourself too your feet that another voice spoke up, this one a touch deeper than that of the Crow man.

"Merveilleux~ to see such a mythical being up close like this... Their beauty is absolutely stunning in such a captivating and exotic way, très bien!"

You saw the man speaking and felt a little confused when he was taller than many of those standing around him. As others moved to look at him you saw just what it was that gave him such height above the rest. It looked as if someone had taken the top half of a man and attached it to the body of a spider about where the face would be. The spider body itself was compact with black markings along the abdomen and long, spindly legs that seemed more than double the length of the body. Two prominent fangs sat curled at the front of the man, slightly obscured by his robes hanging over them, but you could see the faint sheen of venom on the pointed surface of the far too-large mandibles.

Something about seeing the handsome face and shining green eyes of the blond man paired with the monstrous spider-body that he was attached to made the world seem to spin and pitch beneath you. Though you had just managed to get to your feet you certainly didn't feel steady on them, but as the crow man reached out to steady you, you did the only thing you could think of and bolted. Your sudden flight from the situation made several others startle, and in the confusion you darted for what looked like an exit or portal out.

It had not been what you hoped it to be as you found yourself standing before a dark castle that seemed all the more intimidating compared to the monster filled room you just fled. Still, you could try to find somewhere in the castle to lay low, maybe even out on one of the balconies next to the many Gargoyles that overlooked the dour building. There had to be somewhere out of place enough for you to hide- or so you hoped- from the hybrid monsters that so happily decided to keep you despite not knowing a thing about you.

The slow wandering of halls with no opposition put you on edge, wondering if you just got lucky or if you hadn't seen anyone for a reason. Even as your footsteps quietly echoed in the dark halls, you remained vigilant in your quest to find somewhere out of the way.

Eventually that quest for somewhere safe led you to one of the many rooftops of the building. Your salvation came in the form of a recessed alcove that went further back than it appeared, facing away from the front of the castle. It wasn't much, but it was enough to keep you sheltered from the rather cold wind and make you feel concealed even among the rooftop.

With Gargoyles as your company and adrenaline quickly fading, you found yourself exhausted and in need of a rest. Despite how fast you seemed to have stumbled upon your hiding place, you could see it had actually been quite a distance you must have run. The portal far away on the other side of the enormous drawbridge that let you into the castle. Your energy was sapped and you were more than confused, but you couldn't fight the insistent pull of sleep on your frazzled mind forever.

~•§•~

The old crow Fae was still reeling from the absolute shock he had just gone through, but most would likely be feeling the same were they in his shoes. It simply was next to impossible, but an actual human was roaming the halls of Night Raven College. He himself had last seen a human more than half a millennia ago and they had since been declared extinct for several centuries. Seeing such a mythical being in the Hall of Mirrors was certainly unexpected and curious.

At first he believed they were a Selkie who had lost their fur, but the absolute lack of magic from them told him all he needed to know. Humans were the only non-magic species that had reached sentience in Twisted Wonderland, but this left them at a disadvantage as all other sentient species had magic and quickly out competed them. Some of the Naga and other beastman tribes even took to eating humans as a delicacy before they were declared extinct. Now Crowley had what was very possibly the first recorded human in centuries somewhere lost in his college.

The grants he could get to care for the human alone justified finding them and keeping them at Night Raven despite the fact they were not actually a student or member of the college. Even beyond just the money to keep such a rare specimen safe, he was going to get to see their magicless qualities first hand. It was always assumed that humans had some kind of innate abilities to make up for the fact that they didn't have magic. Their affable nature made them great at keeping the peace between strong personalities and powerful magic users. Though humans were technically at the bottom of the food chain as far as sentient species were concerned, Crowley could keep this one creature safe at Night Raven College.

All he needed to do now was find the wayward human and get them to settle down. Of course, there was still the question for where the human could possibly stay that would ensure their safety.

~•§•~

The dark haired prince walked through the somber halls of Diasomnia. Emerald eyes taking note of the ever familiar surroundings that made up his temporary home. The dour prince was looking to visit his beloved Gargoyles and figured now was as good a time as any. He had not been invited to the ceremony after all and he was not so rude as to show up without invitation and no good reason. Besides, it had been a while since he last visited his beloved statues.

As he made his usual rounds based on the age of the statue, the horned royal paused when greeted with an unfamiliar sight. Beneath one of the Gargoyles was someone soft and delicate looking. They were clearly not made of the same stone as the statues, but by all appearances the Gargoyles had borne a child of flesh and not stone. Perhaps Lilia would know where this odd little creature came from.

The prince was gentle removing the soft (s/c) being from beneath the statue, taking care to not wake the warm creature. His obsidian wings flared with contentment as he managed to extract the oddly delicate humanoid. Outwardly appearing, they almost seemed to be a selkie without fur, but their scent said otherwise. They were much softer than a siren or banshee which often had very taut skin. With renewed purpose, the thorn prince carried his new discovery to his own room, tucking the little being into his blankets. He would find somewhere else for the odd creature to stay after he conversed with Lilia. For now, he could leave the fragile being in the safety of his nest until he figured out what they were.

Perhaps he would crash the ceremony after all. Even if he wasn't invited, this was a good reason.

[kaislashes]

You should be scared of him, should be running for your life. Everyone else has, people don’t dare walk into these parts of the forest because of him. You’ve heard the stories, the ones that foretold the beast who lurks in the forest, who howls at the moon. You were told of the ones who went, in search of berries and to hunt for meat but never came back.

So you don’t know why your curiosity won, why you’re sneaking out of your window at 2:00AM on a frigid winter night. You make sure to close the window behind you as your feet hit the ground and the snow crunches under your boots. You swiftly make your way through the village towards the wooded area 20 minutes away.

Once you reach the tree lines you look back, almost hoping someone will stop you. No one is awake at this time so you proceed forward with a deep breath. It seems like hours of wandering aimlessly through before you hear it. Snow and twigs crunching behind you. You whip around and see two yellow eyes staring at you.

You start to run, you should’ve listened. You’re dodging through the trees, looking for an exist but you know you’re lost. Everything looks the same, your lungs are starting to hurt and you feel the beast at your feet. You veer off to the left an CRASH-

A root caught your foot and tears are streaming down your face. You yelp as the beast is now on top of you, drool dripping from his mouth. You stare at it helpless, it’s a massive wolf, something you didn’t see before.

The beast uses its mouth to rip your pants off and you’re scared stiff, you don’t know what to do. You feel yourself being mounted, something poking beneath your thighs. You try to buck him off but it’s no use. You scream out as you feel it penetrate you in one swift thrust.

The beast desperately keeps pushing inside your warm heat, teeth bared against your throat. You feel disgusted with yourself as you start to feel your stomach start to pull, feel yourself getting wetter as a moan slips. The beast doesn’t seem to mind as he’s able to slip deeper, hitting your cervix repeatedly.

You feel yourself explode around him and the sensation makes you black out. You awake to an intense pressure in your lower regions and you look down noticing you’re still connected to what was a beast. You try to pull away and hear a pained grunt.

“Don’t move, it’ll hurt us both. You’ve taken my knot so well.” You hear from a man, who is no longer a beast. You feel him rub his hand along your bloated stomach.

[sturnioz]

PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE MAKE A PART 2 OF THE FRATBOY CHRIS X SHY READER ANGST PRETTY PLEASERE (ily btw)

──── ⭑ ( part 0.1 | part 1 ) .ᐟ

after going home that night, you were almost positive that you were never going to see chris again.

you took every precaution possible to avoid him ─ parking your car far from campus, you deliberately chose the longest routes to your classes, and in the hallways you kept your head down, pretending to be focussed on your phone while your heart raced at the thought of crossing paths.

you deleted pictures on your phone, even blocked his number and his socials, determined to erase him from your life. the idea of him posting pictures with another girl twisted your stomach in uncomfortable knots, leaving you feeling utterly miserable.

during your time alone, you began to realise just how dull your life actually was without chris. sure, frat parties had never been your scene, but you used to enjoy being tucked against his side, watching him in his element ─ dealing, taking drugs, and drinking with his frat brothers before he took you into his bedroom where you spent the night.

and then there were the midnight food runs when the munchies hit, him bringing you along to the nearest 24-hour store and buying all your favourite treats and snacks which you shared.

but that was gone now, you were sure of it. you were never going to experience those moments with him again.

until he opened your bedroom door one night while your were episodes deep into one of your favourite rewatchable series. your heart raced and your eyes widened in disbelief, nearly dropping your cup of water that you've been sipping. you hastily place it on the bedside table, pausing your show mid-scene.

you stammer, confusion flooding your voice. "what.. what are you─"

"your uh, your mom let me in," chris cuts you off with a reply, stepping into the room and closing the door behind him, the soft click echoing in the stillness.

you weren't a bad daughter, but you couldn't help but curse your mother out in your head for allowing chris inside the house. she's always had a soft spot for him, drawn to his charm and charisma, even if she didn't know him like you did.

"jus' wanna talk to you, alright? 'cos you leavin' like you did... yeah, it doesn't sit well with me ─ got this..." chris pauses as he prods his chest with his two fingers, his expression a mix of frustration and slight vulnerability. "here. got me feelin' this weird shit and ─ and i can't take it, alright? so jus'... jus' talk to me. use that fuckin' mouth of yours and talk. 'cos i must've done somethin' right?"

you sit in silence, your heart racing as you stare at him from your position on the bed, lips curling into a frown.

the sight of him stirs a whirlwind on emotions in you ─ hurt, anger, longing. you don't want to talk to him; you don't want to bring up the painful memories of his cruel words that still, undoubtedly, echo in your mind. you knew that confronting him would only remind you that he wanted nothing to do with you, but you also understand that conversation is important... even if it felt like a trap to you.

"i... heard you," you finally admit, your voice barely above a whisper. you chew the skin of your cheek, your gaze dropping to your lap, unable to meet his intense stare.

"heard me what, kid?" he presses, his tone blunt, yet you sense a hint of curiosity lurking beneath the surface. his directness catches you off guard, and you feel the room closing in around you.

he leans back against the door, arms crossed over his chest. the posture is defensive, and you can feel the weight of his gaze pressing down on you, analysing every twitch of your expression, searching for any sign of what you're thinking. it's unnerving, and you shift uncomfortably, feeling exposed.

you take a deep breath, trying to steady yourself. "i heard you say that you want nothing to do with me," you confess, the words tasting bitter on your tongue as the tears begin to brim in your eyes. "you're so... so cruel, chris."

chris' expression shifts a little, "you uh, you heard that?" he runs a hand through his messy hair, tongue prodding at his cheek, frustration evident in his movements. "jesus, kid, i ─ i didn't mean it like that, alright? i jus'... you think i wanna hurt you? huh?"

"then why did you say it?" your voice cracks, a mix of hurt and confusion spilling out.

"i didn't mean it," he repeats again, his voice rough around the edges, but there's a sincerity that catches you a little off guard. he pushes himself off the door, taking a few steps towards you, closing the distance between you. "look at me, kid. i didn't mean it... you ─ you listen t'me, okay? jus' listen for a sec."

you finally lift your head, meeting his gaze, and you can see the struggle in his eyes. the air is thick between you both as he sits down at the edge of your bed, the mattress dipping under his weight.

"i..." chris exhales deeply through his nose, visibly struggling with his words. "what we have ─ this shit between us? it.. it's new f'me, okay? and ─ and i'm not the type to get all romantic and relationship-like, you know that. but i get this weird fuckin' shit in my chest whenever i'm with you, and i'm tryin' to figure out how this all works, yeah? i'm not... i'm not used to this."

you continue watching him in silence, your heart racing as you stare at him. the vulnerability in his expression surprises you.

"when i said that shit, about how i want nothin' to do with you? that was jus' to get him off my back, s'all ─ 'cos he kept goin' on and on, and it was pissin' me off and i needed him to shut the fuck up," chris explains to you. "i... i shouldn't have said it, alright? and ─ and i'm... i'm sorry, yeah? i'm sorry."

his apology hangs in the air, and you can see the seriousness etched on his face. the weight of his words settles over you, and you feel the walls around your heart begin to crack. the raw honesty in his voice makes you reconsider everything.

"didn't mean to hurt you, kid," chris adds, his tone softer than usual. "don't know how to handle everythin'. it scares the shit outta me, y'know?"

you nod slowly, "i... i get it," you reply, frowning softly. "but i don't know if i can trust you."

chris' jaw clenches for a moment, the muscles ticking rhythmically as he processes your words. "yeah, well, gonna have to try 'cos uh, i can't let you walk away like that again... yeah, s'not happenin'."

he clears his throat, scrunching his nose as he sniffs, and the familiar gesture brings a slight smile to your lips despite the heaviness of the moment.

"now wipe your face 'n scoot over, told your mom m'stayin' the night."

© STURNIOZ

authors note. writing fratboy!chris so vulnerable and soft is WEIRD EEE this isnt my fratboy!chris !!! bring back the pain !!!! (hope you like it tho anon i did this for you)

[esthercore]

E-Whore (GN! Cam Boy/Girl Reader x HSR's Simps )

Veritas Ratio | Sunday | Blade | Jing Yuan (different scenarios for each men ♡)

Being a Trailblazer is amazing, but since it technically made you jobless, you needed some way to fund your shopping sprees when you visit new planets, so while some of your crewmates resort to farming calyx, you chose the easy way.

You had a hot body and you knew how to use it, making you an instant hit on the streaming site, moreover, as the site connected to servers in multiple galaxies, the chances of anyone you knew or will meet in real life knowing your side hustle are slim enough to never happen, right?

Wrong.

Now Jing Yuan, was shook when he first saw you in the Loufu, standing beside your crew as Welt talked to Miss Yukong, your arms wrapped around March's looking so innocent as if you are not the same cutie that helps him release his work stress most night.

He did his best not looking at you when he talked to the express crew, knowing he won't be able to help himself and will sink in those big pools of innocence who were gazing up at him with fascination and interest, looking so different and yet so same from your streams.

Out of everything, the poor general never expected to fanboying over a cam girl/boy. And it was already tough day for him, alright? Having to ignore his constantly ignore his horny thoughts, and his dick twitching whenever his mind drifted on you, knowing how close you were to him, how he can actually have a chance.

So the seconds man got some privacy, his hands were kneading on his crotch unprofessional he knows, but he was a man with needs and couldn't much than wait for the results once his plans were in action. So here he opening up the damned site, turning it on and looking at his favorite video, the first video of your he saw.

A neko cosplay.

He first heard of you when he overheard few young cloud knights simping over you, agitated when he hear them whispering about you than focus on their training. So that night he tried to see what all this fuss about.

The old man lazily opened the website searching your username, just out of curiosity and no intention to jerk off, only to be greeted by an clip of the cutest thing with cat ears on, and a cat tail but plug, sucking on a popsicle with your chest left bare, making him surprised by how sudden his cock stirred up, jerking of to clips of you, having the best session of his life, leaving him panting and twitchy, after splattering on his phone.

You were just so easy to get addicted to...

So in present when he heard your voice outside his office in the Seat of Divine Foresight, fingers fiddling with his stripper, it took him a good while to realize, he wasn't just daydreaming about your pretty voice but you were literally there, nocking on the door.

He hurriedly got himself together, throwing his phone on the table, and clothes fixed, o it isn't obvious what he was doing, greeting you with a charming smile.

Miss Fu Xuan has sent you to give him some documents, and he took it as an opportunity to invite you in, and talk to you, befriend you, just about anything. But then there was some commotion outside with two cloud knights bickering, so he reluctantly asked you to settle the documents on his desk and wait while he give the knights an earful.

Happily getting back, his heart racing at the thought to be in your presence, but then his smile dropped, as he entered back his office, seeing your face flushed red, as you try to hide you face by your hands, sitting all pretty on his seat, with the light of his phone lightly illuminating on you.

He was about to ask what's wrong, but shut his mouth, eyes widening as he realized:

Oh, he forgot to close his phone.

[animeyanderelover]

can i request gojo with a darling who can touch him even when his infinity is on? (I think it's canon that he can never turn it off completely so that would be his first time actually having physical contact with someone)

Huge thanks to everyone who helped me with this request by explaining how exactly Gojo’s abilities work! I’ll start watching the second season as soon as all episodes are out for anyone who is wondering. I added a bit of stuff to make for an more interesting read.

Tw: Yandere themes, unhealthy mindset, toxic relationship, possessive behavior, clinginess, obsession, touchiness, manipulation, gaslighting, paranoia, isolation, abduction

The first touch

🩵Gojo has been having his eyes on you even before he knew about your very special abilities. That basically means that you have this white-haired menace terrorising your daily life whenever he can. You almost have the impression that he can sniff you out among the many million people in Tokyo as he always finds you somehow. You're honestly just so fed up with him but are terribly introverted and feel too scared and awkward to explain to him clearly how you feel about his constant intrusion. You doubt that it would get through his head anyways so you silently endure the man's clingy, whiny and increasingly affectionate antics. Satoru knows no personal boundaries when it comes to you or rather he just decides to ignore it. You're just too cute~ Your unwillingness to stand up for yourself leads to ruthless abuse from his side.

🩵He has had it coming one way or another as he senses your growing frustration with his unbelievable clinginess and disrespect of your privacy. Worst is that he's at this point provoking you because he wants to see what you look like when you snap. So when your string of patience finally snaps as you feel his hands rubbing your shoulders and fawning over your current anger, you've had enough. You swing your heavy handbag at him in a moment of short and impulsive anger. Satoru doesn't move from his spot as he doesn't worry. His Infinity is activated so the handbag won't hit him. It'll easily just be seen as you missing your target, which is right now his handsome face. He sees your handbag moving closer to his face and just gives a small grin... At least until the fucking thing smashes against his face with full force, heavy with all of your stuff inside.

🩵Everyone who would know him, would probably laugh at him if they would see him in that moment. The almighty Satoru, stumbling back in shock before tripping over his own feet and landing onto the ground. That would have never happened if he would have been around anyone else. But he isn't around anyone. He's with you. Sweet, weak and lovable non-sorcerer you. Around you he never has his guard up unless he senses danger. Not because he underestimates you, although he definitely does, but because he feels like he can just be himself around you. That's why he's so thoroughly unprepared for this. For a moment he just sits on the ground in bewilderment, his face pulsing with pain from the impact it just had with your handbag. You start frantically apologizing as soon as you realize what you've done, flip a bit out when blood seeps out of his nose. You quickly rummage through your handbag as you search for something to stop the bleeding.

🩵Gojo on the other hand, who slowly starts coming back to reality after this major shock, touches his face in a daze. When he pulls his hand back, his fingertips are covered in blood, in his own blood. He looks at the red liquid like it is something he has never seen before in his life, as if it's something alien-like, before he jumps abruptly up. You flinch and shrink when he bents down to your height, brilliant blue eyes seemingly trying to look deep into your soul as he asks you quietly how you just did that. His voice is slightly strained with emotions you can't fully detect. You do see some of them swirling around in his eyes. Curiosity, shock, surprise but also something else. Something you haven't sensed in the silly and clingy man before. It unsettles you deeply. You don't even know what he just meant with his question just now and Satoru seems to realize that too as he pulls back, allowing you to breathe again.

🩵He leaves you a while after that incident and even if he tries to keep his normal facade up, you sense that something has startled him. If only you'd know. Satoru's mind is occupied with this accident the whole day. How were you able to do that? You're a non-sorcerer by all accounts and he didn't sense any cursed energy from you nor from anywhere around you. You were honestly expecting him to not show his face so soon again yet instead he rings at your apartment in the early morning hours. You're majorly confused and frightened by the fact that he seems to know where you live as you have never told him that yet Gojo pushes past you like he's been here a hundred times before. His eyes briefly fly through your current home, noting that it is quite small if you'd live with him, you could have everything you would want before he asks you the most ridiculous question you've heard all week. "Can you slap me?"

🩵You look at the man as if he has suffered from brain damage due to your handbag yesterday. How does one even respond to such a request?! Weirdest of all is that he looks at you with genuinely curious eyes. Can you slap him? Can you touch him with your own hands and everything you hold in your hands even if his Infinity is on? You hesitate a tad bit too long before he decides to provoke you a bit to anger you enough to do as he just asked you. It works as it is early morning, you've just found out that he knows where you lived and you're also still quite tired. You're in no condition to endure his teasing as he reminds you of embarrassing accidents he's had the joy of witnessing. The next thing he knows, he feels the impact of your hand against his cheek with more strength than he assumed. Maybe he underestimated your strength just a tiny, tiiiiny bit. Nevertheless though, as he rubs his stinging cheek his eyes are glued to you as a realization comes to him that changes his life. You, a non-sorcerer, somehow have the ability to seemingly nullify his Infinity... How?

🩵It must be the biggest irony of the universe. His darling is metaphorically and literally his one and only biggest weakness. A tiny part of him really has to chuckle about this but for the most part, Gojo suddenly grows by leaps and bounds more paranoid. He is the strongest in the sorcerer world and he couldn't even count on both hands how many people constantly pray for his downfall but can only do that as he is literally untouchable. With his situation he would already be under normal circumstances be overprotective and slightly paranoid that someone would instead resort to making you a target and use you against Gojo. He has to protect weak you for that reason against all the evil in this world. Yet with the knowledge that you can touch and by extension of that also harm him, a new fear inside of him grows. What if his enemies would decide to set you up against him to have you kill him? Or worse, what if you yourself would decide to rebel against him and would try to harm him?

🩵If you wouldn't have this special talent, he wouldn't be worried. Because then you simply wouldn't be able to harm him although your betrayal would still badly sting due to the lingering scars of Geto's betrayal. Yet with the added aspect that you can actually hurt him, Gojo's paranoia worsens. The image of you being his downfall, the only person he genuinely loves and trusts in this world, breaks him somehow. It isn't likely considering that he is far above you in all physical aspects and still has other abilites, not to mention that you would never sink that low, yet the fact that it is the tiniest possibility is enough to drive him a bit mad. You'd never do that, right? You love and care too much to ever think about killing him or even slightly harming him, right?

🩵You don't know where those sudden insecurities and his paranoia come from, you never imagined the Satoru you knew for a while to be so fragile underneath all his confidence and silliness. You wish that he could revert back to that side of him, even if it was possibly only a facade. Because now Satoru is downright suffocating and scares you even. You can't do anything to escape his tight grasp though and even if he doesn't hold you, you're still stuck in your new home. In his own huge mansion, installed with a security system that would never allow you to step outside unless he's with you. You will never leave his side, he won't let you. No one is allowed to find out about you and your one of a kind abilities. It is the bittersweetest irony ever. The warm touches of yours he so yearns for are the only ones who could also kill him.

[selarina]

Gojo Satoru x Fem!Reader

Content Warnings: college bf!gojo, fluff, smut, cunnilingus, mention of masturbation, established relationship, implied parental issues, nicknames (baby) Minors DNI

Tap

You were awoken by the insistent sounds of a sharp tap against your window.

It had been raining the past few days, so you didn't bother with the taps, dismissing it as part of the downpour. But now, half-awake, you're realised there was no rain. Not tonight.

Tap

Groggy, your eyes flickered open. Turning, you saw the digital clock on your bedside table blinking a mocking 1:01 am in glaring red numerals. Barely an hour had passed since you had found sleep.

Tap

You groan, a guttural sound that felt alien in the still silence of your room. Knowing how late into the night it was, you were filled with a slight sense of unease, a chill crept up your spine. You would be a bit insane not to feel this way, but you suspected the cause of this disturbance. So, you got up, and slowly made your way to the window.

The curtains were drawn, but you slowly pulled them aside, peering through. It was too dark. You pulled your window up, which you realised required a bit of strength. Maybe you were still feeling a bit dazed from the sleep.

You peered out of the open window, the chill air hitting your sleepy face.

And there he stood under the warm streetlight, Gojo in all his glory— clad in a snug white shirt and black jeans, a small black bag slung over one shoulder.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" you hissed, careful to keep your voice low. You were hyper aware about the rumours that would spread all the way to your family if the neighbours caught the sight of this particular scene.

He grinned up at you, lifting a finger to point towards your front door— a silent request.

You sighed, backing away from the window, and reaching for the light switch. You searched for the nearest pair of shorts you could find in the blinding new light in your room, and made your way downstairs.

Click

His eyes met yours, blue and infinite, his grin unwavering. You noticed now that it had been raining outside, the remnants of a faint drizzle found themselves clinging to Satoru's drenched hair.

"You could've just called me," you frowned, crossing your arms, frustration evident in your tone.

“I did,” he retorted, stepping inside. “Four times. You weren’t kidding about being a heavy sleeper.”

"You scared the shit out of me, Satoru. You can’t just show up like this," you said, locking the door behind him, "Especially when I'm alone—"

A pout formed on his lips. Annoying. Salacious. "But I missed you," he confessed. Serious. Sincere.

And you melted away, as you often did with this nuisance of a boy. “And you couldn't wait one night?" you feigned irritation, the corners of your lips betraying you.

"Nope."

—

The two of you made it upstairs. Gojo had taken space on the swivel chair near your study desk. You felt a bit conscious about the mess on the desk, you had meant to clean up days earlier.

He was using your spare white towel to rub his hair dry, as you stepped into your room, balancing the full glass of water.

It had only been just a while seen you'd seen him, but you did miss him, admittedly.

You placed the glass beside him on the desk, then plopped onto your bed, sitting as you stared at him mussing his hair dry. His biceps flexing with each brisk movement.

He tilted up, noticing you staring in silence, and grinned, which made your cheeks heat up.

"How— How was the tournament then?" you inquired, genuine curiosity tingeing your words.

He set aside the damp towel, unzipping his bag to reveal a gleaming trophy. "Well, how do you think?" he quipped, his pride evident in his expression

You reached out, fingers grazing the cool metal that read “Man of the Match.”

"Did you really carry this just to show it off to me in the middle of the night?" you teased, though warmth joined your tone.

"Of course," he responded, unabashed. "Sorry, I want my girlfriend to feel pride in the man she chose."

You rolled your eyes, a smile tugging at your lips.

"Well... congratulations stud. The pride is all mine," you said, kissing the trophy, the chill of the metal finding your lips. You set it beside you, hand brushing your now cold lips. "What else is in this bag then?"

"Mostly souvenirs. I got a book for you," he reached into the bag again, pulling out two books. “And a book for me,” he added, pressing one of the two to his chest.

And at that, your brows rise. You eyes immediately trailing down to scan the title of the book.

"You're reading The Second Sex?" You asked, amused, and surprised.

See, you give Gojo a lot of shit but he is smart, but you never took him for a reader, assuming he was more of a kinaesthetic learner.

“Well,” he said, moving to sit beside you. The bed dipped under his weight, his hand finding your waist as he leaned in, “I much prefer doing it,” he murmured, lips brushing your neck.

You chuckled, your body tingling beneath the sensation of his warm lips. "You know that's not quite the essence of de Beauvoir's work."

His lips curve into a struggling pout. "Oh, really?" he mused, brows engaged.

Times like this left you a bit baffled — the fact that he knows what the book is actually about, but also, the fact that he feigns being stupid about it. You wonder how many times you haven't clocked it, instead falling for the act.

You smiled. “You're such an idiot, Gojo Satoru.”

"Well, I'm your idiot," he smiled back. "Your mum isn't home? You haven’t nagged me enough about being quiet tonight."

"Yeah, she's gone."

“Gone?” He raised his brows.

"For a few days," you said, half-breathless, acutely aware of his hand trailing up and down your thigh, caressing your skin. “For work.”

Your entire body tensed beneath his touch because this is new — Gojo touching you. You had only recently started dating, and it wasn't like he hadn't touched you before. He had— in this way and so much more, but even so, he always managed to get your heart rapping at a pace your breathing could not support.

He reached closer with his mouth. You help by doing the same. He presses it against your cheek — a soft kiss, before he backs up to linger only a few centimetres away from your lips. His warm breath fanning against your lips.

But this time, you found yourself impatient, reaching for his lips with your own, as his hand moved upward, now sitting snug against your cunt as you kissed. He could feel the heat of your skin singing to him through the thin material of your underwear.

Your limp hands find their purpose — trailing to find the warmth of his skin, one of them finding his hair, as the other hand reaches for Satoru's free hand trailing against the skin of your waist. He turns his hand to help you reach for it and spreads his fingers, so you could hold him — your fingers interlace in union.

“I missed you so much, baby,” he whispered as you parted, noses touching.

“I missed you too,” you whispered back, your lips meeting his again, your tongues intertwining. His tongue felt so so warm, and soft against your own. You wonder if yours feel like sandpaper in comparison.

You can hear the faint clacking of your lips, which is when you pull away to huff out a “sorry” before he silences your apology with another kiss.

His fingers unlace with yours as they move to hold your head, pulling you fully into him, trying to get more and more of you with every kiss.

His other hand, trails upwards, finding the waistband of your shorts. He plays with it a little, flicking it as he continues kissing you. His lips moving from your lips to your jaw now, peppering kisses, as he nibbles his way toward your ear.

At that your breath catches, you've always been sensitive there.

"Did you think of me, baby?" he asked, his breath hot against your ear. "Because I thought of you. Got off to you right after we hung up that night."

Your breath catches again, and he takes this as an opportunity to lay you down on the bed, as his hand slipped inside your shorts, finding you where you seemed to need him most.

He starts at your entrance, the boundary of your shorts restricting his movements. He gathers your wetness with the tip of his middle finger as he slathering them around your clit, moving it up and down as you attempt to move your hips forward, towards him, hoping that his finger will accidentally knock faster against your clit.

But if there's one thing Satoru liked— it was frustrating you. He loved to drag things out when you wanted a quick release. You were always grateful for it at the end but it didn't make the process any less frustrating.

You could hear the squelching between your thighs, and felt your cheeks heat up as he pulled away to look at you. His eyes peering into your own, and you swear you'd never felt more vulnerable than in his arms like this.

You felt his palm press flat against your abdomen, pinning you down against the cushion, as he moved with more vigour.

“Tell me,” he urged again, kissing your jaw. “Did you think of me?”

“Yeah,” you said, breathless and sweaty. “Every night.”

“Every night?” His eyes widened in surprise. “Tell me more.”

"Hah— Please..."

“Go on,” he urged again. “I’ll let you come only if you tell me, baby.”

“Every night, I thought of you as I got off—” You bit your lip. “It’s embarrassing, Satoru please.”

“You're adorable,” he chuckled softly. “You stroke my ego.”

"Satoru, please. I-I need..."

“Need to come, baby?” he coos—ever so irritating. You could hear the delight in his voice, and it fucking irked you, but you also wanted to kiss him stupid for it.

You nodded rapidly, giving in to him.

“I’ll make you come,” he said, his fingers curling inside you, his thumb stroking your clit.

Upon the added stimulation, your hands, almost as though they're working on their own reach out his spare hand. The gesture leaves a pang in his chest, and there is a strangely dark thought that brews within him, that wants to keep you like this all the time. Cute, dumb and at his mercy.

He gives you his hand as he lets your hand wrap itself around his pointer and middle finger.

Your clit is throbbing. Your body is burning. You think you could eternity in this moment, teetering on the edge for the rest of the endless night.

Once more, he curls his fingers inside of you as he keeps his eyes on your face. You're close. He can tell.

“Come," he says, his voice hoarse. His fingers move fast, pumping into you.

The gasp that follows proves him right, as you move your hips erratically, closing in on his hand.

You lay there, panting, as he watched you with a smile playing on his lips. He bent down and left a kiss on your sweaty lips

—

You had changed, now donning new shorts and new underwear, as you looked over at the book he got you. A blue cover, with a woman seated amidst an auditorium of red seats.

"You like?" he asked, setting the glass of water he got you on your bedside table.

"Shakespeare and Palestinian Literature," you murmured. You placed the book aside, your arms reaching for him, as you leaned in to leave a soft kiss on his cheek. "You really do know me."

"You're welcome," he grinned, as he settled against the headboard beside you.

"Are you staying the night?" You asked, your hands fiddling with his lanky fingers.

"I can't," he says, and it makes you a bit sad. You were hoping he could. Truthfully, you didn't like living alone when you were back home — without your sister, without your mum. "I need to see my parents,” he added.

"You didn't see your parents first?" you asked, turning, as your eyebrows arched in surprise.

He shrugged. "I wanted to see you first."

"Your parents probably don’t like me any better now," you say, a bit glum.

He stares at you, feeling just as glum because there's truth to it, there is. They aren't your biggest fan. It only informs him that he's doing something right but it doesn't sit right with him, at the end of the day. It would hurt your heart.

“You keep running off to see me. You should spend as much time as you can when you're home, Satoru.”

"I will," he says, though he knew he was lying. Frankly, he hates home. He couldn't wait to get back to university, where he could find a home in your messy dorm room. Your roommate can crib all she wants. “Can I stay the night?" he asks, as he feels your hand stop fiddling with his own.

"I thought you had to be home," you say, your hands retracting back onto your lap.

"Well, it's the middle of the night," he replies, bending down to nuzzle into your neck, before his lips left a soft kiss. "I'll leave early, and lock up behind him."

You merely hum, too tired to argue, too grateful to send him back home. "Go home for breakfast, okay?"

He hummed. "I will."

"Promise?"

His murmured "promise" was the last thing you heard before sleep found you, coddling you into her gentle hands.

[pin-k-ink]

catharsis // sakusa kiyoomi

tw ⇢ touch-starved!reader, minor self harm, kinda angsty, hurt/comfort

wc ⇢ 1.4k

a/n: this was more to comfort me than anything else. since i usually burst into tears whenever anyone hugs me, which is something that happens once or twice a year

The faintest of marks marred your delicate skin - a cluster of faded scratch lines circling your wrist. Easily missable, had Sakusa's sharp gaze not caught the blemishes as your sleeve rode up. An infinitesimal crease creased his brow as he mentally catalogued the observation.

In the years he'd known you, Sakusa had unconsciously compiled a detailed dossier on your habits and quirks. The way you absentmindedly tucked stray strands of hair behind your ear. How you worried your lower lip between your teeth when deep in thought. That enigmatic scratching motion was new, at least new enough to pique his curiosity.

He made a point of scrutinizing you more closely over the following days and weeks. An invisible audience member watching you go about your daily life, searching for the trigger behind that restless tic. At first, there seemed to be no discernible pattern. You scratched your wrist idly while reading, while chatting with friends, while zoning out during class.

Then one day, Sakusa's watchful eyes caught the moment it happened. You were walking down the corridor engaged in cheerful conversation with Komori, your hands animatedly miming some story you were recounting. As you passed Sakusa, your fingers twitched almost imperceptibly, beginning to extend towards him before stuttering to a halt. In that aborted motion, your nails grazed your wrist and you resumed scratching - an unconscious redirect of your habitual tactile tendencies.

The realization hit Sakusa like a sledgehammer to the solar plexus. You were a tactile person, always hugging, patting shoulders, playful nudges. Everyone received your casually affectionate gestures...except him. Your ingrained impulses continued to reach out only to be forcibly quashed by the visible barrier of his obsessive personal space.

Sakusa's revelation unlocked a floodgate of memories, instances now glaringly obvious in hindsight. You were indiscriminate with your platonic affections - hugging Iizuna enthusiastically after a game, tucking yourself snugly against Komori's side as you chatted.

But with Sakusa, your boyfriend of nearly a year, your tactile instincts faltered. He witnessed it happening in real-time now that he was actively watching for it. Your hand would rise, fingers outspread as if to graze his arm or push back his curling fringe with tender familiarity. Then, an infinitesimal flinch, a micro-expression of remembered restraint flashing across your features. Your hand would abort its trajectory, retracting with mechanical rigidity as you unconsciously scratched faint lines into your wrist. A silent reprimand, punishing the part of you that still yearned to breach his carefully guarded personal space.

The ache in Sakusa's chest was an unexpected affliction. As someone who meticulously maintained crisp boundaries, he had never conceived that his shortcomings could so starve his girlfriend of something so fundamental. You gave your affections so freely to others, yet around him you were forced to subsist on meager scraps, furtive glances and aborted caresses the only intimacies he permitted.

With surgical precision, Sakusa began dissecting every interaction, analyzing your body language like a master shogi player scrutinizing a board. The way your eyes would linger wistfully on mundane couple moments - a simple hand-hold, a casual arm around slim shoulders. How, when thanked, your instinct was to offer an effusive hug before catching yourself at the last moment with a jerky smile and tight nod. Always denying yourself, policing your most fundamental love language to avoid trespassing his boundaries.

The more Sakusa observed, the more his gut twisted with guilt-laced regret. You were starving, yet continued to nourish everyone around you with the generous tactility he had inadvertently conditioned out of your interactions.

When someone from his team scored a spectacular point, you swept him into an exuberant hug, squeezing tightly as you jumped with joy. Sakusa watched the brilliant smile gradually dim, your arms slowly slacking until you gave one final pat on his back before releasing him. As if the brief contact wasn't enough to slake your profound thirst.

With Komori, your hugs lingered a beat longer, your cheek nuzzling into the crook of his neck as you savored the proximity of a trusted friend. Sakusa caught you burying your nose in the soft fabric of Komori's shirt, inhaling deeply with your eyes drifting shut - inhaling the simple human scent you'd been deprived of with your boyfriend.

Even alone, your hands sought substitute solace. Sakusa tracked the restless way you'd play with the ends of your hair, wrapping thick strands around your fingers to stroke and fiddle with. Or how you'd cross your arms tightly, creating some semblance of an embrace by running palms along your own forearms. Paltry imitations to temporarily assuage the perpetual starvation he had inflicted upon you.

The realization congealed like a lead weight in Sakusa's stomach. His issues, his boundaries had turned your most fundamental needs into an unforgivable deprivation. You had always been selfless in respecting his limits. But at what cost to your own heart and psyche? Sakusa felt like a monster, systematically stripping away something as essential and human as physical affection.

That oppressive guilt propelled him into action. If he couldn't fully satiate your needs, he at least had to try meeting you partway. You deserved that much after all the thoughtful accommodations you had made for him.

Sakusa's stomach was in knots as you settled next to him, textbooks and notes strewn between you for your study session. He steeled himself, determined to start making amends.

When he finally understood a tricky concept, relief and pride bloomed across your features. "Sakusa-san, you got it!" you exclaimed, hands raising in an abortive movement before wilting back to your lap. A brilliant smile plastered on, you gave him a small nod of encouragement rather than the congratulatory hug your body had instinctively begun.

Something inside Sakusa shattered at the subtle denial. How many times had you squashed such impulses? How many hugs, pats, and casual caresses had his aversion conditioned out of your loving nature over the months?

You blinked owlishly as Sakusa stared at you, expression inscrutable. After an endless moment, he finally spoke in a low murmur. "We've never even kissed, have we?"

"O-oh!" You flushed, hands fluttering nervously. "You don't have to force yourself, Sakusa-san, I understand. Really, it's okay, I don't need-"

He cut off your reassuring babble by cupping your face with gentle reverence. Holding your widened gaze, he brushed his lips across your forehead, then each fluttering eyelid, the apples of your cheeks, finally coming to linger achingly soft against the seam of your parted lips.

When Sakusa finally pulled back, you were dumbstruck, lower lip trembling. Your brow knit, chin crumpling as you blinked back the first shattering tears. A cracked whimper slipped free as the dam burst, soft sobs wracking your frame.

"Shhh..." he soothed, thumbs brushing away the streams of tears. Sakusa pressed his forehead against yours, cradling you against his chest as you soaked his shirt. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," he rasped, voice splintered with uncharacteristic remorse. "You deserve more, so much more. I'll do better, I promise."

Sakusa held you through the cathartic deluge, his solid frame a grounding presence as you released years of pent-up deprivation. He murmured a litany of hushed reassurances, achingly tender sentiments you had long ached to hear from his usually taciturn manner.

As your sobs tapered off to occasional hitching breaths, he pulled back just enough to frame your blotchy face in his large palms. His thumb brushed the lingering tear tracks as he searched your reddened eyes.

"I've been blind," he said gruffly. "Selfish in my boundaries without considering your needs. You've been so patient, but I can't allow this to go on any longer."

You opened your mouth to protest, but he shook his head firmly. "No, let me finish. I'm...not good at this sort of thing. Intimacies. Displaying affection openly." His gaze flickered away briefly before locking on you again with renewed determination.

"But I'll try, for you. We'll go at my pace, find ways for me to...indulge you." The faintest of smiles played at the corner of his lips. "Maybe start with proper dates rather than holing up to study all the time, hm?"

You gave a watery smile at that, nodding as you brushed at your eyes. Sakusa's thumb traced your cheekbone tenderly.

"Be patient with me," he murmured. "I may fumble and misstep as I figure this out. But I want...I want to take care of you, too."

Leaning in, he brushed a featherlight kiss against the apple of your cheek before enveloping you in a cautious, almost tentative embrace. You melted into his arms, reveling in the novel warmth and firm reassurance of his touch as you burrowed against his chest contentedly.

It was a start, you mused. The first blossoming of Sakusa opening himself up to your world of affection and intimacy. You would savor every treasured gesture, because you knew - he was finally letting you in.

[sicutpuella]

Twitter Incels | Simon “Ghost” Riley

That phase where you slowly start hating your girlfriend is insane.

That damned Twitter thread. It's been haunting her for a week now. She can't stop opening it, her heart sinking further with every new addition. She reads every disheartening tweet: “I’m waiting for her to catch me cheating so she can break up with me,” “I close my eyes when we kiss because she’s so fuckin’ ugly!” And the horrible comments just keep coming…

She’s somehow semi-grateful Simon doesn’t have Twitter or any social accounts—he thinks social media is stupid; but she can’t help but have that self-doubt of paranoia and overthinking—what if Simon had thought of the same thing?

Simon, on the other hand, had a day filled with boredom and frustration.

He doesn't know what his girlfriend has been going through; instead, he's been preoccupied with his own thoughts. He's been itching to spend some quality time together, but she's been unusually distant lately. It’s been almost two days since they last hung out, and the silence is weighing heavily on him.

He's tried reaching out through text, but her responses have been short and distant. This isn't like her at all. The more he thinks about it, the more irritated he feels. He's starting to wonder what's going through her head.

So… he invites himself back into her house and sees her watching something.

He joins her on the couch, making his presence known with a heavy sigh. Crossing his arms, he turns his attention to the screen.

"Hey," he says, trying to sound neutral. "What are you watching?"

Oh—just… Breaking Bad." She looked sad.

Simon notices the hint of sadness in her voice; it catches him off guard. He turns his gaze to her, studying her expression closely.

"You alright?" he asks, his tone a mix of concern and curiosity. He doesn’t understand why she seems so down.

He knew he did nothing wrong; he double-checked his calendar—he didn’t miss any birthday, any anniversary, or any other silly shenanigans she had for the week. So he wonders.

The more he sits there, the more confused and frustrated he becomes. He can't comprehend why she’s acting this way. He wracks his brain, trying to think of something he might have done or said to upset her. But he comes up empty, only increasing his irritation.

"You've been distant lately," he states bluntly, unable to keep the annoyance out of his voice.

"It's like you've been avoiding me," he continues, his irritation growing with every word. He shifts on the couch, leaning closer to her, his eyes searching her face for any hint of what’s going on in her head.

"What's going on?" he presses, his tone firm but laced with a hint of concern. He can't shake the feeling that something is off, and the silence is only making him more agitated.

“Do you hate me? Do you feel like you’re starting to hate me?” Her tone was soft and vulnerable, he realized— she was overthinking again. 

As she spoke, each question hit him like a punch to the gut. He recoiled, taken aback by the insecurities spilling from her mouth.

He gently placed his hand on her shoulder, his expression softened. “No, never.” he said firmly. “I don’t hate you, I don’t make fun of you, and I definitely don’t think you’re annoying.”

He paused, his eyes locked onto hers. “And you’re goddamn beautiful, you know that.” 

She still had a bit of a pout. He couldn’t help but chuckle at her pout, his irritation completely replaced by affection. 

He shifted on the couch, moving even closer to her. He put his arm around her, pulling her against his side. “Seriously, where’s all this coming from?” he asked again, his tone gentle.

”This…” she shows him the infamous twitter thread— to which he has no knowledge of since he is chronically offline. He scans the Twitter thread, his expression growing more dumbfounded with each new addition. He couldn’t believe that was the reason she was feeling so insecure!

“Really?” he said after finishing reading it. “This is what made you doubt me? A bunch of idiotic tweets from strangers on a screen?”

He shakes his head, his expression a mix of disbelief and annoyance. “You know how stupid Twitter is, right? You can’t trust anything on there. It’s just people spewing nonsense, looking for attention and validation.”

He scrolls some more, “typical boy behavior…” he clicks his tongue with annoyance.

“Look at them… they keep tweeting about how much they hate their girlfriends!” She crosses her arms.

“Yeah, and most of them are probably made by sad and bitter assholes who can’t even find someone who’d put up with them for more than five minutes.” He rolls his eyes, scanning through the thread again, his irritation growing with each tweet.

“Besides…” he glances at her with a smirk, “do I look like one of those morons?”

“No…”

“Exactly,” he said firmly, his gaze fixed on hers. “I'm not one of those dumb, shallow idiots.”

He gently placed his hand on her knee, giving it a comforting squeeze. “You don’t have to listen to any of this bullshit.” He gestured towards the Twitter thread. “None of that matters, not when you have me.”

He paused for a moment, his expression softening. “You’re beautiful, intelligent, and I can’t get enough of you. I’m with you because I want to be, not because some dumbass on Twitter says I should hate you.”

“But… but look at what they’re tweeting, babe!” Her voice pitches up.

“Sounds like a bunch of incels.” He chuckles to himself while scrolling.

He chuckled without humor. “And look at all the dumbass replies. People agreeing with this crap because they’re insecure idiots who can’t appreciate what they have.” He takes her hands in his, gently rubbing his thumb over her knuckles. “But you know who you’re dating, right? A man who adores every part of you. A man who would shoot those basement incels in the face if they spoke about you like that in front of me.”

“Yeah, but they’re like—comparing their girlfriends to… to… their first loves…” she sighs, pulling her knees to her chest. She still felt insecure. He noticed her pulling away, the insecurity still evident in her body language. He pulled her closer to his side, wrapping his arm around her.

“Seriously?” he scoffed, his annoyance evident. “Comparing their girlfriends to first loves? That’s the most shallow and idiotic thing I’ve ever heard.” He let out a frustrated groan. “And who cares about first loves anyway? They’re called ‘first’ for a reason—because they usually end for a reason.”

He gently lifted her chin, making her look at him. “I’m not thinking about my first love— fuck don’t think I even had one… or comparing you to anyone else. I’m here with you, aren’t I?”

“You sure?” She pouts. “No taxi-cab theory or anything?”

He rolls his eyes, letting out a frustrated sigh. “Are you serious? Who even comes up with these shithole theories?” He pauses, trying to compose himself. “First of all, that’s another dumb thing people on the internet say to make themselves feel better. Second, why do you still watch those TikToks when they just make your insecurities flare up?”

She sighs, realizing he had a big point.

He noticed the sigh, realizing she understood what he was saying.

He softened his expression, his annoyance fading into a gentle concern. “Babe, you’ve got to stop listening to random crap on the internet. Especially when it’s making you doubt yourself and us.”

He wraps his arm tighter around her, pulling her closer still. “You’re amazing, you’re beautiful, and you’re the only one I want to be with. Don’t let some dumbass TikTokers and Twitter incels make you think otherwise, alright?”

He saw the corners of her mouth lifting into a small smile, and it brought a sense of relief to him. He knew he was getting through to her, making her see that she had nothing to worry about.

“There’s that smile I love,” he said softly, his thumb caressing her cheek.

She nodded, their eyes locked. She knew he was right; he had never once made her feel unloved. He held her gaze, seeing the realization dawn in her eyes, the understanding that she had nothing to worry about.

“Good,” he said, a small smile forming on his face. “Now, can you please delete that stupid TikTok app before you start questioning the very foundation of our relationship again?”

”It’s Twitter! TikTok and Twitter are different…” She cutely huffed.

He rolled his eyes, sarcasm evident in his voice. “Yeah, yeah, I know. One is full of annoying dances and teenagers, and the other is full of annoying people and their stupid opinions. Big difference.”

He took a deep breath, gathering his thoughts, his struggle to express himself verbally apparent.

“But seriously,” he said earnestly, his hand gently squeezing hers, “You’re the most beautiful woman in my eyes. I love you, and I want to spend my life with you. There’s no one else for me, and I’ll always be here to remind you of that, even if I’m not the best at saying it.”

[remlionheart]

⟡˙⋆ MDNI ⋆˙⟡

Teacher's Pet

♡༊·˚ the second installment in my euphoria x jjk drabbles. this takes place where megumi's left off, but it's still a standalone fic so it's not necessary to read both parts if u don't want to ♡ tw for drug use and slight coercion. gojo x shy fem!reader. 𐙚 praise kink girlies who have ever dreamt of an authority figure having their way with you - hi, hello, welcome, enjoy your stay 𐙚 your former teacher's house was a place where anything and everything happened. a place people came to let go of their responsibilities and lose themselves for the night. there was only one rule: no one was allowed to step foot in his bedroom... shout out to the loml @bratbby333 for literally being gojo. 3.9k words. porn with a plot. lemme know whatcha think, luv u ♡༊·˚

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

Satoru Gojo had never been the most morally sound, neither in his personal or professional life. There were many things he was willing to turn a convenient blind eye to, secrets he was willing to keep in order to protect himself and those he deemed valuable enough. In a world predominantly made up of black and white, he was the condemning shade of silver that connected the two. Always towing the line but never really committing to either side.

With the amount of wealth and status he possessed, there was hardly anything he couldn't have - not a person or a drug or material object that was off limits to him. The entire world had always bent to his will, and he intended on keeping it that way.

His footsteps were heavy as he maneuvered through the crowd of sorcerers that were scattered about his living room.

Every weekend was the same, a hazy blend of laughter and smoke and blue lights. Girls snorting coke off of his marble countertops and couples fucking in the pool, not caring at all who saw. It was the place that people wandered to when they needed to let go of their inhibitions for the night and succumb to their own vices. "Gojo's house of debauchery" as Megumi would so endearingly name it.

He tilted back the rest of his drink while he made his way upstairs, pleased with the way bodies parted for him without him having to say a word. He was imperious, subconsciously operating with an effortlessly powerful presence anywhere he went, but especially within the domain of his lofty penthouse.

He came to an abrupt pause, noticing the door of his bedroom was cracked open. There were hardly any rules when it came to his Saturday night depravities, but the one thing that everyone knew was to not step foot into his room.

His jaw clenched, grabbing onto the door handle with every intention of having to drag someone out when the tension in his shoulders suddenly settled. A small smirk crept across his face as he closed the door behind him, his annoyance completely overruled by a new sense of perverse curiosity as he noted the way his sheets hugged the side of your hip.

"You lost sweetheart?"

Your eyes snapped open when you heard the click of the lock, your mind was racing trying to piece together where you were. You'd taken at least 4 shots too many before you'd stumbled upstairs.

The last thing you remembered was searching for a bathroom, barely being able to push your way through the crowd when Nobara noticed you. "You don't look too good," she had shouted over the music, "here, follow me." She'd forced you to drink some water while you peed and then guided you to the connecting bedroom. "You need to lay down for a little bit, 'kay?" It was the last thing you had heard before your head hit the pillow and your surroundings finally stopped spinning. You'd assumed that she'd taken you to one of his many guestrooms, but no, in her own drunken haze, she'd managed to leave you in his bed.

"Gojo-sensei," you immediately grimaced at your own formality, scrambling to correct yourself while you rolled over to face him. "I - mean, Gojo." Satoru? No, definitely not. You shook your head at the thought. "I'm sorry, let me just grab my stuff and -"

His smirk only grew at your hesitation though, a slight laugh leaving his lips as he waved a dismissive hand and took a seat on the edge of the bed next to you. "You're already here. Stay."

Your body froze when you met his stare, the low glow from the red light above his headboard emphasizing the sharpness of his face. You were surprised he even recognized you considering you hadn't seen him since graduation. Out of all of his former first-years who would so frequently pass out after overindulging, you had never been one of them.

Never, until now.

His eyes drifted along your silhouette, noting the curves that had replaced your once slender frame. The maturity that had stolen your timid teenage smile. You’d always piqued his interest, but you were now piquing something much more sinister inside him as he continued to look you up and down.

"This is new for you, hm?" He asked, looping a slender finger under his blindfold before pulling it down. "I mean, you were always a good girl, right?" Your heart stuttered in your chest when your stare caught his fully. An impossible shade of cerulean gazing back at you through thick lashes. "A bit shy from what I remember."

You shrugged, thankful for the way the lighting was covering up the heat that had migrated to your cheeks. You were better off than you were 2 hours ago but you still weren't as coherent as you should be, especially for this situation. "I was a kid back then." You finally managed.

"Seems like you're still one seeing as you couldn't handle a few shots without needing to lay down." His tone was more amused than it was scolding. "Look, it’s all about balance. If you're drinking or taking more downers than you're used to, you need an upper to counter it."

It almost felt like you were back in his classroom listening to one of his lectures, only the lesson he was about to teach you was definitely not Jujutsu High approved. He leaned over, grabbing a black Versace box from his nightstand. "If you're ever bordering on the verge of blacking out, the quickest way to regain your composure is this."

You watched him pull out a bag of white powder along with a dainty, almost doll-sized spoon, scooping out a bump before holding it to the left side of his nose while another finger covered the right. His pupils bloomed as he inhaled, letting the drug enter into his system with ease. "Come here." He instructed. 

You leaned toward him, it was almost muscle memory the way your mind and body both followed his directions with such blind obedience. A slight grin pulled at the corner of his lips as he brought another spoonful up to your face, his free hand closing one side of your nose for you. “Take a deep breath f’me.” He gave you a low nod as you complied without a second thought. “There you go, just like that.” 

Your jaw tightened, an odd sense of clarity washing over you when you looked back at him this time. The coke had managed to reel you back in, neutralizing at least some of the alcohol in your system as your body buzzed from the stimulants. Reality suddenly had a stronghold over you, reminding you that you weren’t just in your former teacher’s bed, but you were in it with him while he spoonfed you drugs.  

“Better?” he asked, cocking his head at you with the same smirk.

All you could do was nod, gradually coming to terms with the fact that you were powerless to the two opposing substances that were now working within you. Your heart rate was slowed by the alcohol but accelerated by the coke, neither one of them necessarily overpowering the other. They were instead coming in waves, almost taking turns as they flooded your thoughts and calmed your nerves. Gojo-sensei was always right, but you never imagined this would be something you’d learn from him. 

“A lot better.” You admitted, watching him set the box on the nightstand, wondering if the way he left the bag inside of it open was intentional or not. 

“Good.” He pulled at his tie, loosening it around his neck as he stripped out of his black blazer leaving him in just a white button up. “What were you doing here tonight anyway?”

Your mouth opened and then closed as you met his stare again. There was no subtle way to admit that you were still recovering from your latest breakup. That you’d come out tonight in a sad attempt to maybe, accidentally run into him.

“Oh, god,” he groaned, reading like you a fucking book. “Please don’t tell me you came here to get Takuma's attention.”

Your pupils dilated for an assortment of reasons, embarrassment churning in your stomach as you shook your head in denial. “What? No, I just wanted to get out for a few and -"

“Bullshit.” Despite the sharp edge in his tone, he was still wearing the same coy smile, his leg lightly grazing yours as he positioned himself closer to you. “You always had a thing for him. I remember the way you used to follow him around the hall like a lost puppy.” 

“That was years ago.” You countered, trying to process the fact that he’d watched you that carefully. 

“But you did, didn’t you?” His hand reached up, his slender fingers gently tangling into your hair, his voice dropping down to a pointed whisper. "I even heard you wanted him to be your first."

Your heart was racing, but it suddenly had nothing to do with the coke. Gojo-sensei had never been the most professional teacher. He was always joking with his students. Always getting into gossip that had absolutely nothing to do with him, but you never thought that his interest in his student's personal affairs extended to you considering you hardly ever had anything noteworthy going on. You sat in the back of the class. You barely spoke to anyone. You were a wallflower from hell. The fact that he remembered your crush on Ino was astonishing. The fact that he knew you wanted Ino to be your first was insanity.

His hand was still attentively drifting across the back of your neck, light fingertips gliding across your skin while his eyes roamed along your lips. You were forgetting how to breathe between the way he was looking at you and the sudden realizations that you were quickly having to come to terms with.

"You didn't actually let him take your virginity, did you?" His tone was dripping with taunting curiosity.

"He -" you faltered as his palm met the small of your back, the oxygen all but gone from the room. "He was my...first and...." You nearly choked on your own honesty, your face matching the deep red lights decorating his wall. "...only."

Satoru's body stilled, an incredulous look taking over his face before a vicious laugh erupted from him. "You're joking. So, have you ever cum then? Like, even just by yourself?”

"Of course I have." Your response was immediate. Almost too defensive to be true. "Plenty of times." You tacked on, which only made it worse.

You froze as his grip found its way around your waist, his fingertips lightly digging into your skin. "Show me then." he challenged.

Your heart felt like it was going to explode. His touch equal parts tantalizing and intimidating the closer he got to you, his hand cradled your jawline, his thumb tracing over your bottom lip. "Show me how you make yourself cum when no one's around."

Your breathing came to a complete stop when he closed the already small gap between you, his hand gliding down your neck as his tongue parted your lips. His body was warm and inviting, pressing against yours with ease. "Let me see it," he continued, slipping the straps of your tank-top down your shoulders.

You were stuck somewhere between the desperate desire to pull him closer and a nagging sense of insecurity that you couldn't shake no matter how hard you tried. You weren't stupid, you knew that he was much more experienced than you. He'd probably been with plenty of beautiful women who had given him more of a show than you felt capable of giving.

He pulled away slightly, picking up on your apprehension as his eyes met yours again. "You wanna be here, right?"

You nodded back at him, an aching feeling building between your legs at how dominant yet unexpectedly gentle he was being with you. "I do, I just -" You felt your jaw clench, the coke mixing with your self-doubt causing your body to tighten up even though it was the last thing you wanted it to do. "My head is just kind of everywhere right now." You admitted sheepishly.

"Here," He shot you a small smile before leaning over to reach back into his nightstand while you stared at the ceiling, trying to relax into the softness of his bed. "Open." he said, hovering over you again.

His stare was locked firmly with yours as you lolled your tongue out for him obediently, swallowing down the yellow circular pill he'd given you. "Good girl." He praised, tracing over the side of your face with his finger. "We'll take things slow, yeah?"

You didn't know what you'd just taken. Truthfully, you didn't even care with the way he was talking to you. His voice was like silk when he leaned back into you, carefully wedging himself between your legs as he kissed you again. His movements were fluid but thoughtful. His fingers grazing along your skin softly, leaving little goosebumps in their wake.

He may have been with more people than you had, but you were gradually starting to realize that it was more of a positive than it was a negative. He was able to read you so easily, he knew exactly where and how to touch you.

You let out a faint whimper as his palm met the inside of your thigh, slipping up your skirt and moving your panties to the side. "Keep your eyes on me, okay?"

The way your bottom lip lodged between your teeth while you looked back at him with a doe-like expression made it all the harder to restrain himself, but he somehow managed to keep his resolve.

His long digits spread you apart before his middle finger slid between your folds and began drawing light but firm circles against you. He could see your timidness slowly dissipating, the Valium he had slipped you clearing doing its job as you arched your back from him and let out another whine.

You were overwhelmingly comfortable, your body completely melting under his touch. He was running uppp and downnn your clit with just the right amount of pressure, creating a heavenly amount of slick for the both of you.

"That’s it. Gettin' so wet for me." He breathed, his lips just barely ghosting yours. "Do you have any idea how perfect you look right now?"

The moan you let out was beyond your control, your vision was blurred by silver hair and blue eyes and how unbelievably good it all felt. "Gojo-sensei," you panted, your body writhing beneath him as he slid in a thick finger inside of you this time. "F - fuck."

Satoru groaned, plunging even deeper into you. He never knew how badly he needed to hear you moan out his formal name until you suddenly couldn't stop doing it. Your hips were bucking up towards him, your lips urgently crashing into his as more dazed out noises poured out of you.

"Keep going." He instructed, reeling in the way your eyes widened as he added another finger. "You're doin' so good."

You were grabbing onto the collar of his shirt, your walls clenching around him. He was hitting spots that you'd never been able to reach before. Spots that Ino had apparently neglected too. You felt yourself slipping. Your mind was racing. Your body grinding against him desperately and your voice breaking with each word you tried to get out.

"Go-jo... I'm - gon-na..." But you didn't have to say it for him to know. He slammed into you, nodding at you in encouragement as fire flickered through his steel eyes.

"Let it out." There was a fierceness to his tone that he couldn't mask anymore, his composure was crumbling right along with yours. "C’mon, let me fucking feel it.”

Watching you come undone like this was such a sharp contrast from the shy schoolgirl he once knew that used to skip class just to avoid group projects. You squirmed under him, mewling out his name like it was the only word you knew as an orgasm finally raked through your body, stealing away every last bit of hesitancy you once had.

You were staring back at him like he'd told you to, never breaking eye contact no matter how hard it was for you to keep still. Your irises bloomed with pleasure, a noise you didn't know you were capable of making escaping you as you drenched his hand.

"Good fucking girl."

He pulled out of you, bringing his fingers up to your mouth. Your lips parted without him having to say anything, sucking them clean as you continued to look back at him with the same innocent expression. He was afraid he was going to no choice but to get you pregnant if you kept this up.

"Takuma ever make you cum like that?" he asked, releasing himself from you so you could speak.

You bit back a smile as you shook your head. "No," you conceded, helping him lift your tank-top above your head. "Not like that."

"I didn't think so." He smirked, unbuttoning his own shirt while you slid out of your skirt, both of your outfits being tossed to the floor.

You felt your center throb watching him strip out of his boxers. An overwhelming sense of neediness flooded over you as you took in the intimidating masterpiece that was Gojo-sensei's body. You'd be lying if you said you hadn't imagined what it looked like a time or two when you were in his class. It was hard not to with the way girls fawned over him, but you'd managed to keep your infatuation to yourself up until now.

Seeing him stroke himself as he lined up with your entrance was prettier than any daydream you could've ever conjured up.

"Need you to focus on your breathing.” he said, rubbing his tip between your folds to wet himself with your slick. The temptation to absolutely destroy you was plaguing his mind, but he knew he needed to ease you into it. The only person you'd been with was Ino for god's sake, you deserved to be fucked properly.

You followed his lead and inhaled slowly, thankful for whatever magical relaxation pill you’d taken you as he prodded into you. It didn't take long to realize why he'd told you to breathe, his tip alone was stretching you out more than you were used to. You found yourself grabbing onto his forearm, your nails digging into his skin as a hazy whimper filled the space between you.

"It's alright, you can handle it." Your walls were smothering him, so impossibly snug and tight that he struggled to keep his eyes from rolling into the back of his head. "Just like that. Juuust like that."

He pressed into you carefully, harnessing all the restraint he could possibly manage while you tried but failed to hold back your whines. "God, you feel fuckin' good." He groaned. "Takin' me so well."

You were still clutching onto him, your mouth dropping open the further he went. You'd never felt this full before - this entirely enamored by someone being inside of you. You thought that you knew what you liked up until this point, but he was drawing noises and feelings out of you that you didn't even know existed.

Gojo's urge to break you was getting harder to ignore. You were so pouty and delicate and naively trusting of him. He'd been trying to keep a steady pace, watching you intently to make sure you were still comfortable, but the moment the words "deeper" and "please" left your mouth, he felt something inside him snap.

His hand laced around your throat, his thumb and index finger pressing firmly into the sides of your neck. The smirk he shot you was lethal. "Deeper? You sure that's what you want?"

It was your one and only chance to back out, but you couldn't. There was a coiling tension in your abdomen. A depraved craving coming from your core. It wasn't just that you wanted more, it was that you needed more. You could barely get out another, "please." before he was suddenly plunging into you.

His rhythm was merciless, his grip tightening around your airways turning your moans into strained gasps.

He leaned in, his hair brushing against your forehead as he watched your eyebrows knit together, your eyes locked with his once more.

"You've always been so fuckin' cute, y'know that?" His hips met yours with another damning thrust. "So good at doing what you're told."

The red lights blurred together, a mixture of stars and sedatives clouding your vision as the aching feeling between your thighs amplified. Your cunt felt like it was pulsating, that burning build suddenly breaking away from just your stomach and spreading throughout your entire body.

"Oh, fuck." He grunted. "There it is. Keep goin’.”

Your walls spasmed, drool spilling down your chin while you wriggled under his grasp. Your pelvis tilted up feverishly to meet his as you took every inch of him. You were teetering on the verge of passing out. Nearly crying from how overwhelmed your senses were when another orgasm ripped through you.

His grip loosened on you, his movements becoming more frenzied. The fucked-out look on your face coupled with the pouty, suppressed cries you let out when he removed his hand from your throat was enough to drive him over the edge too.

His lips caught yours with feral urgency, his hand tangling into your hair as a lewd warmth filled you, spilling out onto his sheets. “I want you over here again next weekend," he said in between breaths. “Got it?"

You nodded back at him, your mind humming from overstimulation as he slowly pulled out.

He took a moment before getting to his feet, admiring the mess that he'd made of you. "C'mere." He smirked, helping reposition you up to the front of the bed.

He placed a pillow under your head and brought the blanket up over your shoulders. There was no way you were making it home tonight.

He lazily slipped his pants back on, only bothering to button up half of his shirt as he ran a hand through his hair and reached for the Versace box on his nightstand. He divvied out another bump and held the spoon to his nose, inhaling sharply before turning off the light for you and venturing out of the room to see how many people were still up and about.

The music had died down for the most part, the once packed hallway now mostly empty. He rounded the corner, just about to head downstairs when he came to an abrupt pause.

"Ino." he called out, noticing the brunette wandering out of one of his guestrooms. "Didn't realize you were here."

"Oh, yeah." He shrugged, tilting back the rest of his beer. "Was just lookin' for someone, Nobara said that -" he stopped himself before he could finish his thought, shaking his head. "Y'know what, it doesn't matter. She's too needy to deal with anyway."

Gojo's eyebrow raised, an arrogant smirk cutting across his face as he played along, offering him faux words of shallow comfort. "Ah, yeah. Bet she's pretty whiney too, huh?"

"Right." Ino snorted, completely oblivious to the condescending trap he'd just walked into.

"Probably says you're not deep enough." Gojo pressed, earning another clueless drunken laugh from him. "Always so pouty."

"Exactly. Like she's never satisfied."

"Girls," he mused, adjusting the collar of his shirt from where you'd grabbed onto earlier while you were soaking him. "Sounds like she needs someone to teach her a lesson..."

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･