#there's a handful of ppl who decided they don't like me and I've decided in turn I'm not gonna live in spite

[3-aem]

Being on jjk twt even by proxy is a lot like watching a war unfold miles away in the distance with big explosions and fire. Meanwhile ur just like...trying to tend to ur flower bed and grow ur tomato plants but every now and then someone will come and try to conscript u into whatever is going on and ur just like I'm gonna shoot myself in front of u if u don't leave

[bixiaoshi]

[welcometogrouchland]

I broadly think the majority of content you find in "X critical" tags tends to be a bit. Uh. Garbage in terms of legit media criticism, but I cannot overstate their importance in terms of being easily filterable for people who actually like X, and idk if it's the recent migrations from other social media platforms or (more likely) if I'm just having an off week and reading into things too much but like. Can we keep it going/bring it back??? If I have to see one more post about how ppl hate a certain thing in that certain things tag (where fans congregate to find content of the thing), with no filterable critical tag. I might actually kill ppl

[tremendum]

Setting the Mood ; Mr. Miller vii

[not my gif] pairing: joel miller x fem!reader (afab, some use of she/her, use of the words girl/woman) rating: explicit. [18+. mdni] word count: 10k summary:  ❝Joel's warming up to you in the way that feral cats warm up to a box with blankets in winter - cautiously, with a rigid spine and many false alarms.❞ warnings: power outage, one mention of cobwebs lol, smut - oral (f!receiving), nipple play, teasing, overstimulation, anal fingering (brief sorry), face sitting, pussy slapping!!!, tit slapping (once), begging, choking (light), fingering, rough sex, praise, dacryphilia, degradation, threats of using sex toys, Joel is less mean than normal, pussy drunk Joel!, squirting, brief mentions of guns/canon typical trauma and violence. also fairly fluffy. emotionally constipated joel and reader <3 notes: thank u all for ur patience & here's the next part! and Joel is a MUNCHHH in this one lol. special thanks to the anon who recently sent me such kind words about this series, as well as the other anon who gave me the inspiration & all the suggestions for this fic!!! this one's for u guys <3 [this is part seven of the Mr. Miller series.] [masterlist]

[important - this is the last fic that will be using my taglist. moving on, I've made a notifs blog - @tremendumnotifs - for ppl to follow for notifications. tysm!!] ★  

"'s gettin' dark out there." Joel broods, eyebrow furrowed as he stares out the window into the dreary wink of evening, a dark gray clouding the sky as sheets of rain slam onto the pavement and pelt onto the gardens lining the block. "stormy." 

you can't help but quirk your brow as you take in his worried form, the way he peels back the curtains like a wartime wife awaiting a letter or a figure appearing in the driveway. you have to fight back a laugh, instead putting on a straight face as you lean towards him, capturing his gaze. 

"she's handled worse." is all you say, giving him a shrug - one that's met with a glare. "I know." he retorts, voice soured; a clench of a jaw before he turns back out, brooding, sighing, gritting his teeth. okay then. 

you shift yourself, plopping heavily onto the couch - you're still not used to being in this house, even in its simple glory. Joel's boots, muddy by the door, Ellie's drawings littering the walls like little trophies Joel silently boasts about - none of them have frames, though you decide in a better world, they probably would. empty mugs of half-drank coffee on the counter next to the sink, a discarded hand knife on the dining table. 

it's almost a complete mirror of your current house - with a tickling thrill, you'd realized this faintly the first time Joel'd thrown you onto the ground in his foyer months ago. he's since grown gentler with the way he handles you, at least, when he wants to. 

even now - his tolerance, vastly expansive compared to months ago when a breath in his direction would cause a snarl within a second. now, he even initiates conversations - not often, but enough for you to feel like, at some point, things did change with him. Joel's warming up to you in the way that feral cats warm up to a box with blankets in winter - cautiously, with a rigid spine and many false alarms. 

you don't particularly mind, either - Ellie and Dina have been helping you with the winter garden greenhouses a lot, and even Joel has stopped by on his way back from patrols to check in, lingering with glares or stares depending on his mood. he even came over to help you try and fix your porch steps leading to the backyard - free of charge, though you sent him home with some of the biscuits you'd made earlier that day. 

you still get on each other's nerves - snide remarks, passes at the other's intelligence or capability. Joel criticizes you nearly every chance he gets, but you've come to decide it's a defense mechanism and not entirely in his full control. you, similarly, tease him every moment you can for his dramatics, but suddenly clam up and scamper away at any semblance of feelings or emotion. he always lets you come back though, without any mention of it. 

"are you seriously worried about her?" you ask, sighing gently. you see the uptick in his brow when he looks at you, but you quickly follow up - "because we can go find her." you add, softer.

his jaw loosens slightly and he sighs heavy. "no, 's fine. I know she's at Dina's. just bein' dramatic." 

you shoot him a look with your brows raised - no shit, Joel - but the withering look he gives you shuts your trap before you can go and run your mouth.

so you let him relax in his own way - pacing in near silence for several minutes before he stops, makes an internal decision to pour you and him each a finger of some amber whisky, and then drains it all in one go. you opt to sip yours.

the wind is what has you in a disturbed state - it howls louder in the basin of this valley than it ever has before in your life; screaming down the streets, blowing through the rush of firs that line the outskirts of downtown. and now, it uses its immense force to slam weeping drops of precipitation into the gardens hard enough to form bits of cold hail - a threat which, had it not been twenty years into the end of humanity, would likely still put gardeners to their beds with a curse to Demeter. 

but now, circumstances are a bit more dire. losing crops, especially at this time of year, could be fatal. 

"y'done with that?" his voice pulls you from your thoughts, looking up to see him standing above where you perch on the couch, gesturing to the towel in your lap. you blink, nodding, "-oh. yes, I am, thanks." 

you use one last handful to scrunch up your wet hair, handing him the towel expectantly - but he stays rooted just in front of you, eyes staring unblinkingly at you. a sense of warmth floods through you, starting in your face and spreading over your chest and abdomen. his eyes are softer than they usually are; you lift a brow, his dark gaze unmoving. "something on my face, Miller?" you ask, lifting a brow. it's snappy - you don't necessarily intend it to be, but you can never tell with him. 

he blinks, grabbing the towel from your hands which he'd provided for you when you'd arrived, sending you a grave look. "don't you start with me." he snaps back, turning to walk off towards the laundry room. the room, you think with foolish butterflies, where your jacket hangs up with its orange, janky stitching over the right side to dry. in some ways, a mark of Joel Miller. you smile down to yourself, staring at the spot he'd just stood. 

you swallow your thoughts. you were here for a reason - not to get distracted, but to make a cake for Ellie. Joel had asked you a few days ago to help him bake a cake - for no apparent reason, you don't think her birthday is anytime soon - you'd agreed because, aside from the fact that there's little you wouldn't do for the girl, you haven't baked one in a long time and the lavender you'd grown last summer and dried is begging to be used in a cake batter.

"we need to get started soon!" you call out, shifting slightly to try and find his concealed body somewhere in the house. a faint call of his gruff voice responds to you, but you can barely hear through the onslaught of rain outside; suddenly, and with a careless flicker, the lights all shut off. 

the whirring of heating stops, too, until everything is dark and silent.

you stare with shock, blinking in the dark - the house is silhouetted by the darkening sky, plagued already by thunderclouds. fuck. 

"Joel?" you call out, rising on your feet to find him - you remember him mentioning in one of the first rounds of patrol with him - before anything, back when he really was just Tommy's brother - that he'd been some sort of handyman pre-apocalypse and so how the fuck has he just tripped the fusebox- 

you feel him before you see him, unfortunately. 

Joel, for all the time you've spent intimately knowing what his body feels like, shocks you every time by his sheer strength, the size of his shoulders and the broadness of his chest - especially when you slam into him in the dark. 

"fuck," you both chorus at the same time, you stumbling back and him likely rubbing his shoulder. you groan as you hit a thumbtack stuck in the wall with your head, rubbing the spot sorely in the dark. 

"the power's out." he states, irritation laced through his words. you roll your eyes, knowing it's unlikely he'll even see them in this light anyways.

"hadn't noticed."

your voice is flat and the silence that follows turns your face hot, taking a breath as you rock on your heels. "well I didn't do it." he states obviously, causing your brow to lift slightly until you look out to see through the muggy windows against the downpour that the whole block is out of power. damn weather. 

"found a flashlight." he clicks it on, the light faint and dying as he brushes a few cobwebs from his hand - you realize the flashlight must have been from before the outbreak, with the original owners. but then the light is illuminating in your face; your eyes squint and you bat it away from you with a hiss, glaring at the man in front of you. 

"what are you, a vampire?" he's holding in a laugh, you can hear it in his voice. you roll your eyes, "you tried to blind me, that was a perfectly acceptable reaction. besides, I'm sure the batteries in that thing are a second away from corroding. don't put that near me." 

he sighs, setting it beside him on some half-wall and you cross your arms. "suppose a guy like you probably doesn't have many candles, do you?" you ask, rocking on the balls of your feet - you really don't wish to spend the evening alone in your freezing house - nor in one that is completely dark. 

"do I seem like I'd have any candles?" he asks, equally as exasperated as you. you let out a frustrated groan, leaning against a wall and jumping when you poke your hip into a table you hadn't expected to be there. you ruminate for less than a second before perking up, gasping in a sharp way that has his hand finding your elbow in alarm.

you ignore the flip of your heart at the gesture, tilting your head instead. "I have some. at mine." you say, shifting on your feet. it looks borderline dangerous to go outside right now - as you look out, it must occur to Joel that he's still holding your elbow because he jerks as if to remove it, but instead slides his hand up to hold your shoulder. it makes your heart skip a beat and you scarcely move a muscle. 

Joel huffs a long-suffered sigh, before nodding. "let me get my boots." 

getting to your house was less of a disaster than it should have been; Joel had the foresight to stuff a change of clothing into a bag after a brief argument about him not owning any umbrellas ('you don't have a fucking umbrella?' 'well pardon me for not havin' a Wal-Mart to stock up at during a fucking apocalypse.') and had held the lid of a trash bin above your heads as you ran, avoiding as much pelting hail as possible, to your front porch. you knew he was irritated - with the weather, with the fact that Ellie wasn't home, maybe even that you didn't get to make the cake - enough so that he wouldn't even make eye contact with you as you fumbled, fingers frozen and wet, for your key.

to your embarrassment, it's too stuck in the keyhole and your door wouldn't budge. it'd grown sticky and misshapen after the heat and sudden cold of winter, the frame wholly unfit to keep a functioning front door on its hinges.  

"for god's sakes, give me them." he snapped, pushing into the frame and snatching the keychain from you, tinkering until he was able to slam into the doorframe with a grunt and burst it open.

"we needa fix that." he observes, ridding himself of his boots as you slink into the dark house after him, your face hot at his automatic assumption that he would help you fix your doorframe. he hadn't been particularly happy about fixing the steps for you, but he'd done it without being asked.  

once you're rid of your wet coat and boots, you grab Joel's arm in the cold, dark space of your entry way and start to lead the two of you rather quickly up to your bathroom.  "where the hell do you keep these things?" he grumbles until you've fumbles your way into the master bath, feeling around in the dark under the cabinets and avoiding stray screws sticking out near the drainpipes; it occurs to you that perhaps you should saw them off. maybe you could bribe Joel into doing it for you when he comes round to fix the doorframe. 

seconds later you spin, holding up thick candles triumphantly, smirking as you shove three of them into his surprised arms. the lighting in your house is interrupted by the flash of lightning, flickering brightness over the dark porcelain tiles. "good thing we like to share, right Miller?" you smirk, grabbing the rest of the candles, eyeing the Epsom salt in a mason jar in the fading light, mentally noting to use that next time you take a bath.

he grunts at your words and you grin, shrugging. "what's mine is yours, right?" you ask sweetly.

 he gives you a look as you make your way to the main bedroom to grope around for a lighter or matches - you can feel his irritation starting to wane away, slowly trickling like the beginning of a stream. "when did I ever say somethin' like that?" 

you shrug with one shoulder, sending him a dark grin, "well you sure must've thought it that night when you invited yourself in to my bathroom." 

it's quiet aside from the storm - your stomach broils in anticipation, heat and some kind of arousal tickling at your guts. there's nothing you love more than irritating him.

you tilt your head, desperately wanting to add more, but not in the particular mood to start a real fight. 

Joel, at your words, doesn't get mad - instead he just stares on at you, much too silent, brooding.

his eyes swirl seductively, as if reliving that night in his head. you sure are - his stare, the way his eyes had trailed over your body, the soap slipping over your pert tits and just begging him to join you. in your mind, you leave out the blood and the wound from your stomach, the yelling from Joel and... well, everything that happened after that. 

his eyes trail over your body, getting stuck on the curves of your hips and breasts, before meeting you again. when he opens his mouth, the words are not what you'd expected. 

"this is too many candles for one woman to have in her bathroom." he grunts, shooting you a stern look that seems nearly sinister in the dark moonlight. the rain pours relentlessly on the roof and onto the windows, streaks in the reflection sliding down his broad chest. 

bending over to reach the matchbook on your dresser, you toss him a little grin, "never said they were just for me. believe it or not, I tend to enjoy setting the mood." 

his brows raise, setting the candles on the surfaces around him - two on the nightstand, one on the bench at the foot of the bed. you light each of them gently.

"set the mood." his voice is flat, twinging slightly with a hard jealousy that nearly has you floating. 

"that's right." you nod, lighting the candles with a gentle smirk. he hums, crossing his arms as you cross to his side, lighting the candles and avoiding his eyes, suddenly very aware of the central piece of furniture in the room - your bed - and the lack of any chairs or couches. 

"did you bring a lotta men into this room t'set the mood?" he asks suddenly, sending a wave of arousal through you. you hide your smirk as you turn back to him, illuminated by the flicker of candlelight. the implication of his words - did you - like he knows that you're only sleeping with him now. that he likes it that way. 

you nod, "only the nice ones." your voice is nearly a purr; his eyes are dark pools, widening in the abyss of desire that threatens to swallow you both whole. his hands find purchase on your hips as you tilt your head. 

"Ian?" he counters - both of you know the answer - but you don't mind leaning in to that curling, angry monster of jealousy that hides itself as indifference.

"maybe." you retort, leaning closer to him, tilting your head to keep eye contact. "it's always so much better when it seems romantic. they're not as selfish. less rough-" you see his eyes flicker when your hand coming to trail over his broad chest. "let me cum as much as I want." 

of course, this was a fib. there were scarce numbers of people you let into your bed as is - even fewer who ever made you cum at all. Joel surely knows this - but his hands tighten around you all the same. "s'that right?" he asks, head tilting down to stare deep into you. you swallow, nodding with a grin. "it was much more civilized. and they weren't afraid to ask me to drinks or to come have dinner." 

his smirk drops and, for a moment, a pang of guilt hits you; you hadn't meant to bring that up, in fact the prospect of going on a date with Joel scares you more than most things in the world - but he moves on quite quick. 

"how many times?" he says instead, cutting off your spiraling thoughts. your confusion must show on your visage; Joel tilts his head, staring at you sternly, expectantly. "how many times did he make you cum?" 

you blink, trying your best to continue your little white lie, but instead, your voice shakes out, "th-three." you admit. the smirk that curls under his stubble sends a flicker of dread through your gut - he's seeing straight through you.

you've cum three times with only one man - he's standing right in front of you, and he certainly knows it.

but he likes to play the game. so he nods, "okay, baby. three. I can beat three." he says simply, thumbs starting to rub slow circles into the skin exposed above your waistband. your cheeks heat, "wh-what?" you ask dumbly, watching the twitch of a grin that flickers across his skin in the dewy glow of the candlelight. 

he shrugs, "been dreamin' about tasting that pretty little cunt all week." 

your eyes widen - a hot coil of arousal swirls in your core as you stare up at him, wishing you'd swigged that whisky that lies over at Joel's in the dark like he had, if only for the courage. 

because mutely, you've realized this is the first time anything has been initiated between you without an argument - and by Joel, nonetheless. he seems almost bashful when you look back at him.

"why'd you wait this long, then?" you ask, trying to sound coy but instead sounding very aroused, out of breath. 

he lifts a coy brow. "waitin' for you to set the mood, I guess." 

you stare at him for a moment.

his eyes flicker in some foreign kind of shyness, and then it occurs to you; you nearly burst out in laughter. "-was that a joke?" 

your heart skips a beat when Joel lets out a small smile.

it's warm, syrupy - full of light. you nearly forget why you're laughing. "maybe. don't matter." 

he seems so soft, so shy - as if embarrassed that he's admitting how bad he's wanted you all week. like you haven't been the same way.

but you can't seem to let it go - "a joke, from crabby old Mr. Miller?" 

but you knew it'd come, using his name like that.

his hand is strong when he grabs your jaw, gentle but stern, and fighting his own smile - the smile lines around his eyes glowing and beautiful. you wish you got to see them more. 

"doll, I thought we've talked about bein' respectful." he lifts a brow and you nod, swallowing your laughs quickly as his hand squeezes on your cheeks. "now, we've made it look real nice in here, haven't we?" 

you take a moment before realizing he's waiting for an answer - you stand taller, nodding, "yes, sir." you agree, fighting the growing heat within you. 

he nods, "'s right. so I'll treat you real nice, just like the boys you talk about." he sneers, weakening your knees. he moves you both slowly toward the mattress, tilting his head, "do you want that?" 

does he even have to ask?

"yes, please, I want it." you agree, the desire to have him between your thighs growing unbearable. "we need'ya to come three times. you're going to count for me, aren't you?" 

you wish more than anything you could defy such saccharine, sweet condescension from the man in front of you - but you've always been weak for him and his cruel mouth. you nod, staring up at his dark eyes, letting him push you onto the mattress gently. you faintly wish you'd taken the time to make your bead neatly this morning - but the thought is pulled from you as you note Joel's sudden hesitation. you tilt your head, about to ask if he's okay, when he abruptly speaks. 

"you're so fuckin' pretty, darlin'." he says suddenly, looking at you with that exact stare from earlier on his couch; your heart flips as you stare up at him, swallowing. his hands come to your shoulders, moving until he's standing flush against the edge of the mattress, your thighs spread open for him to caress your neck gently. your heart pounds at the stark honesty of his words. 

"beautiful." he whispers, feather-light touches over your neck, your chest shuddering and breaths short, staring in silence. "d'you know that?" 

he's being uncharacteristically soft, and an inkling in your mind wonders if it's all a show - never would Joel Miller willingly be kind in such a manner. so giving, so... loving. 

that panic that often finds you in the more tender moments flares up. you swallow thickly, "are you gonna get to it, or just stand there and stare at me?" you snap, the panic rising at his words. 

his slow movements upon you stop, his eyes meeting yours sharply. something changes in him, a shift that is foreign and also familiar; as if snapping out of some trance and back into his original state.

"I'll do whatever the hell I want to." he snaps, "and you're gonna take it because I'm choosing to be nice to you." his voice is unforgiving - the cold tone with which you're used to. where you're safe, unafraid of what lies beneath tender caresses or words. "you hear me?" 

you swallow down heat, a pool leaking into your panties - you're unsure if it's the way he was softly caressing you or the roughness of his words - probably both. "yes, Joel." 

he lifts a brow, correcting you. "sir." 

you swallow, nodding. "yes, sir." he leans over, kissing the crown of your head gently. "that's good. now I don't want to hear another fucking word out of you unless you're counting for me." he stares down out you, skin glowing under the scruff of his facial hair light up by the glow of the candles. he nods at your silence, a small smirk. "always liked you better when you're fucked so stupid you can't get a word out, anyways." 

you don't dare speak, but you shoot him a withering glare, one that has him chuckling. "y'always act like such a brat, but you always end up doing what I tell you, don't you?" 

you stare at him, your heartbeat in your throat, sat below him with your neck craned up. he raises his brows, hand coming to caress your jaw, "yeah, you do." he nods, "pussy can't get enough, huh?" 

he's speaking in rhetorical, but you still want to slap him across the cheek.

you press your thighs closer but any kind of relief is prevented by his own legs as he stands between them. he leans forward, then, one hand pushing your jaw back until you're forced to look up to the ceiling; his other, snaking around your hips to thumb at the hem of your top. 

his breath is hot as it hits your earlobe. "s'okay, I can't get enough of this pussy, either." he whispers, teeth nipping at your soft skin.

you sharply exhale as his hands tug on your top, releasing the looser buttons until it's held by only two of them, near your collarbones. he hums lowly, fingers rising to undo them himself. your skin is a wasteland of goosebumps, anxiously waiting for his touch. 

he groans when you let the top slide off of you, your bare chest glowing alight by the candles. his eyes swallow you whole, amiring every part of you; your face burns warm, even as his hand trails one light finger down, over the swell of your left breast and brushing against your perked nipple. 

"knew you weren't wearin' a bra." he grunts, his teeth scraping over your throat, "saw it the moment y'walked through my door. sat all pretty on my couch, teasin' me in this top." he growls, hands sliding over your shoulders to grope at your breasts. 

you let out a sudden sigh - you hadn't noticed the baited breath that'd been held in your lungs the moment Joel'd pushed you onto the bed - you feel about to burst with need, your eyes pleading up at him. "sounds like you were just lookin' for it." you snap, eyes narrowing as you grow unwilling to play such games with Joel. 

he wastes no precious moment; the smack is delivered light and playful to your right breast, stinging in pleasure as you gasp in a breath. his hand soothes over it even as he sneers in your face, leaning into your space, "did I tell you you could speak?" 

you glare defiantly, "I thought we'd established by now that you always let me get what I want. you might even want it more than I do." 

his hand finds its old home against your throat; holding you towards him, not restricting your airway but claiming you anyways. you feel another gush of arousal at the move, his eyes glaring into you. "oh, you'll get what you want, sweetheart." he says, voice holding no kindness, but an ominous amount of sincerity. "gonna be real nice to ya. all you're gonna do is sit here and look pretty. can you count to three?" he asks, voice rude. you glare back at him, "obviously." 

he smirks, "we'll see." 

and then he starts. 

you aren't sure what you expected, but Joel wasn't lying when he said he was going to treat you nice. caresses over your skin, growing clammier by the minute- his clothes, still on and still wet from the downpour, sticking to his broad shoulders and expanse of his chest. his lips pepper over your neck, your jawline, teasing the corners of your mouth and releasing a cacophony of butterflies before dipping back down to your chest. 

his hands are so large, gentle and intentional as they slide over the warmth of your skin. "pretty girl." he mutters, leaning so that one knee corners you, pushing you backwards until you're laying back on the mattress. you shutter a gasp as his thumbs and forefingers find your nipples, thumbing over them and sending currents of pleasure through you. 

your whimpers and soft gasps are swallowed up by the sound of the storm against the roof, the cold house warming up by the second. he watches with lidded eyelids as his fingers twist your nipple, eliciting a sharp gasp of pain from you, pleasure blossoming through your body. you squirm, but he soon grows impatient, standing back and grabbing onto your ankles, tugging you towards the edge of the bed. 

"keepin' all these slutty candles around, huh? how long you've been wanting to use these with me?" he asks gently, his fingers fumbling with your waistband. you help him, shoving them down your legs along with your panties, tossing them to his left. 

"the candles aren't the ones that are slutty." you gasp as he pulls you closer to his hips, lifting you slightly of the mattress. his hard cock, separated from your yearning cunt by his denim, presses deliciously into you. he actually laughs at this; a shake of his head and a flutter of his eyelashes. "y'got that right." 

he doesn't tease you like you'd expected - no, instead one finger circles your slit, gathering the sopping slick that leaks from you before gently sliding into your desperate heat. 

you mewl loudly, eyes scrunching shut in pleasure. his finger is thick, warm; curling slightly as he slowly thrusts it into you. he hums lowly, one hand lowering you to the mattress then sliding up your skin to palm at your tits - they're stained with a few lovebites, brazen and still lined with excess of Joel's spit. it makes you shiver in pleasure. "that's it, baby." he growls lowly, "tight, real tight for me." sweat lines your brow as a low coil grows in your abdomen. 

you nearly speak out of sheer habit several times, jolting when he hits your sweet spot repeatedly, hand flying to his hair and holding tight; he groans at that, deep and sweet. your eyes fall to his bulge and your hands move to palm him eagerly; he hisses in pleasure but the fingers not inside you catch your hands.

"not right now, sweetheart. not gon' be selfish, right? 's all about you." 

when he adds a second finger, you're already squirming, regretting your doubt that he'd tease you. he's excruciatingly slow, gentle - his hand slides up to hold you by the throat, pushing you against your mattress as he starts to curl his fingers, thrusting harder. 

you moan deeply as he finds your spot; your clit aches, neglected and throbbing, and your hand almost moves to relieve yourself before you second guess yourself and remain with your hands on his bicep.

you sigh, eyes rolling back as he fucks his fingers into you, wishing more than anything that his mouth was on you. or his cock in you.

his hand is a steady warmth against your throat and you know he can likely feel all the failed words and moans as they die out in your throat. he grins, fucking you steady with two fingers, "is there somethin' you wanna say, baby?" he asks, feigning genuine concern. 

you groan out in frustration, that hot simmer growing as pleasure streaks through you. you glare at him, surely an amusing sight with the tears of frustration in your eyes. he tuts, pouting lightly. "c'mon, you can say it." 

you swallow thickly at his permission, his hand peeling away from your throat momentarily to caress your jawline with his thumb. "use- use your mouth. please," you gasp, desperate as you move your hips against his fingers. he hums, "what, y'can't cum like this?" he asks, his fingers starting to pick up their pace. you grip his forearm and neck, gasping as your back arches from the mattress. 

his fingers drag over your slick channels, the noise of your pleasure echoing as you nod, face crumpling in ecstasy. "fuck," you whimper, tugging on the nape of his neck. 

he smiles, a dark thing in the dim light. "bet you can. let's see it, sweetheart." 

you groan as the pad of his thumb finds your swollen clit; explosions of light appear behind your eyelids as he adds a third finger, his thumb rubbing circles around your sensitive bud. 

his hand leaves your throat to press against your stomach; "y'feel that, darlin'?"

the pressure nearly pushes you over the edge, your thighs shaking as you grab for the bedsheets, hands leaving Joel in the shock of your nearing orgasm.

the noises echo in your ears as his pace picks up impressively; your knees shake as they start to close, your muscles seizing in pleasure. your whine is higher than normal as you squeeze around his fingers, white hot pleasure spreading. 

you cum with your head tossed back, legs closing tightly as one of his hands tries to pry them open, fingers fucking you through your high.

you pulse, riding your high with stuttered breaths, fingers twisted into the sheets as he pumps his own into you languidly. 

you remember wryly what Joel had asked of you, and you croak through a dry throat, "o-one."

you feel a huff of breath against your cheek before he hums. "that's good, baby." he murmurs, watching your cunt twitch, your arousal leaking out of you around his fingers.

you moan lowly as his fingers leave you, rising to his own lips to taste you; his eyes stay on yours as he palms himself lightly. you eagerly swallow, shifting your hips towards where he stands. yes, you need him in you-

he shakes his head at you as throws your legs away from him - you watch in shock as he starts to move. he pulls himself onto the mattress, laying upon your pillows, looking at you expectantly. "c'mere, baby." he mutters.

you blink at him, seeing his expression and slowly crawling to straddle him. your clit bumps against the denim of his crotch as you slowly rolls your hips over his, his straining cock delicious against you. 

his hands find your hips and force your movements to halt with a strong grip. you stare at him, feeling embarrassed and confused, unsure what he wants. 

he shoots you a look when you try to press yourself against him again, his fingers digging into your hips- "if y'think I'm fucking you tonight, you've clearly misunderstood."

your face must drain of blood as you stare at him, heartbeat pounding in your chest as you squirm. he moves down slightly, nodding upwards towards the top of your bedframe. "c'mere. and hold onto the edge if you can't handle it." 

with a shaky breath and butterflies in your chest, you let him guide you upwards, until you're hovering over his face. 

you let out a breath of desire, already throbbing in need; he stares up at you, "thought you needed my mouth on you?" he sneers. "play with your tits, baby, and ride my face." your fingers rise to your breasts, teasing your nipples gently as you whimper. 

"now." he growls, hands pulling your hips down onto his face.

you gasp in shock, forehead and hands hitting the wall behind the bedframe as you jolt to stare at him. his tongue drives a fat lick through your soaked cunt, tasting your spend as your hips buck. your clit brushes against his nose- fuck, his nose; strong and slanted, beautiful as you press against it once again. pleasure shoots through you, curling your toes as you press against him. 

all you can feel is Joel - your hands return to your breasts, if anything so that you have something to hold on to as ecstasy courses through you. his tongue circles your entrance lightly before sliding into you. you groan out, head falling back as you grind against his face; his groan reverberates in your cunt as a jolt of satisfaction causes your legs to weaken. "feels so good," you whimper, breathlessly; you don't even care that Joel told you not to speak, all you can think of is his tongue on you. the heat of your second crest starts to bubble over already; you let out a long moan. 

you feel one of his thick fingers slide over the globe of you ass, gathering your slick before prodding gently at the tight ring of muscle below your cunt.

you gasp in shock, desire flooding you as need spurs you on, "fuck- please, sir, yes." you gasp, hoping the honorific will inspire him to give you what you really want.

he does. his finger breaches your hole slowly as you keen forward, gripping onto the headboard. he moans into your pussy as gushes of pleasure gather from the sensation and you whimper lowly, the feeling of his nose against your clit mixing deliciously as he slides his finger deeper into your ass.

if there's a better thing than having Joel's mouth on your cunt, it's that he can't speak like this; you start to move your hips, riding over his nose and fucking back onto his digit as he groans lowly.

"fuck- fuck." you groan, legs quivering, threatening to give out. he hums, leaning to chase your pussy as you move up, starting to move his finger inside your tight channel, his eyes staring up at you; you lock eyes as you thumb a nipple and your eyes roll back at the wide-blown pupils that meet you. 

his hands, large and strong, pull you back against him, cementing you as he laps at your pussy, fucking his finger into you quicker and bringing you so close to your orgasm that you fall back slightly; your hand stabilizes yourself on his clothed chest; rolling your hips, the new angle sets your cunt into a wild frenzy of clenching, feeling incredibly close and chest stuttering as you near your high. 

his finger leaves you suddenly as he pulls you towards him again - you barely have time to whimper at the loss of feeling before his tongue is flicking over your clit again, sending streaks of hot pleasure through you.

he's delving into you once again, his nose rubbing against you, your hips sliding over his face and finally pushing you over the edge. 

your yelp of pleasure tails into a moan as you roll your hips, cumming on his face as you ride it out once again, legs shaking impossibly. you're muttering swears mixed in with his name as you ride out your second orgasm, shaking in desire.

"two," you whimper, sweat breaking on your forehead as one of his hands slides over your thigh, raking blunt nails over your skin. but he continues, your cunt sensitive as you jolt away from him as you catch your breath; you slide off of his chest to the mattress, your whole body tremoring with pleasure.

his face is flushed, chin glistening with your juices as he sits up, muttering, "don't you move." 

you stop your movements, staring with hot cheeks and a swollen cunt as he turns, hands finding one of your pillows. 

he leans forward to prop your head upon it; you gape at him in confusion, still pleased at the relief of strain in your neck but knowing you'll cum one more time before he's satisfied.

your body already yearns for it - you realize with a hot flash of arousal his intentions as he slinks backwards then, sliding to his knees. 

your legs, despite yourself, spread for him. he smirks, "look at you, sweetheart, so willing for me."

you bite your lip, "just make me cum again," you say breathlessly, finding your strength again. 

he raises his brows, "you sure you can handle it?" he asks, his palm sliding to cup your puffy cunt, the stimulation making you gasp. and then he slaps you, landing a harsh pressure on your clit that has you yelping, knees closing.

his other hand parts your legs, smacking you repeatedly until you yelp out, "yes!" 

he stops his ministrations, instead rubbing your mess of juices all around you, causing you to sigh a gentle moan. he presses a kiss to your inner knee as he hums. 

"I want eyes on me, sweetheart. can you do that?" 

your eyes flick down to him as he settles between your quivering legs with a grin. a gentle kiss above your mound that has your eyes fluttering. "yes," you say breathlessly. 

he rewards you with his lips against your cunt once again; it's immediately sending you over in stimulation, your legs tightening around his head before you gasp at the feeling, his tongue flattening over your swollen clit and plunging again into your entrance. 

it's not long - your body is buzzing with electric desire, throbbing and jolting every time Joel's hands spread your legs open wider; your ankles curl and press into his back as his tongue alternates between flicking your clit and stroking as far into you as he can.

he's groaning into you, using his fingers to spread you further open for him; eating you out like it's his favorite meal. you're not sure if you'll stay conscious after your next high - you feel it creeping towards you and you whimper to Joel, starting to feel too sensitive. 

"Joel- it's-" you whimper, pulling back and starting to crawl away on your hands, your legs tremoring with pleasure, moving up the mattress. he growls, hands grabbing you and pulling you back to him.

"not done with you yet." he murmurs, lips attaching back to your cunt. you buck your hips at the pleasure of overstimulation, hips moving away. 

his hand grabs your ass, pulling you once again towards him, "stop fuckin' squirming. thought you wanted to get to three." 

"I do," you whimper, gasping as his tongue traces around your pussy lips, tasting you and groaning into you. his face glistens with your juices and it's everything you can do to keep staring at him; he glares at you, "then don't complain." 

his tongue licks a stripe up you again, swirling and sucking on your clit, and within moments you're nearing your high.

then suddenly everything - your fingers twist painfully as your body goes rigid, hitting your orgasm with a scream, your legs shutting around him and muscles spasming.

"that's right, sweetheart, ride it out." he mutters into you as you shutter, unable to form words but babbling his name incessantly as you push yourself up the mattress, away from the stimulation again as pain and pleasure swirl around your body.

fuck, you almost- you felt something different about that last one. he pulls himself until he's leaning over you, "think you're forgetting somethin'." he teases, his hands running up until they palm your tits.

you groan, hands shaking as they push against the mattress, the warmth of his body delicious. your eyes are fluttered shut, "two." you realize your miscalculation as it leaves your mouth -"n-no-" your eyes widen at your slip-up and you shake your head, embarrassed; your mind too consumed by Joel to fully function.

you wish he would just fuck you - his cock is unbelievably hard straining against his jeans and you urge to take him in any way you can. you'd let him have anything. 

Joel sneers at you, amused by your flustered state. "d'they teach kids to count in these fuckin' FEDRA schools anymore?" he growls, slapping your pussy once more and making you yelp.

if you'd been paying more attention to his words, you'd have snarled that you learned how to count in public school, before the outbreak - and that he's a fucking idiot; you can't, however, as you're slapped on your sensitive clit once again.

fuck - a streak of euphoria through you at the jolt has your back arching. 

"shut up, Joel." you whimper, "can you just- please, can you fuck me?" you ask, brows knitting together. he sighs, pulling back to stare at you with a stern stare. "just a little bit?" you beg, a ravenous force spurring in your blood. you need him.

"god damn it." he snaps, "I'm bein' so good to you, and all you can do is bitch and moan about my cock. got you so fuckin' obsessed, don't I?"

you groan in frustration, half of your body screaming to let yourself rest and half of you searing with desire and frustration. his words fluster you; even more so as he leans forward, hand spreading you apart to roll his clothed hips against your bare ones gently.

you let out a mewl, hips jerking back at the directness of the denim on your clit, the sharp sensitivity hitching in your throat. you ache and clench around nothing, your cunt begging to be filled by him. "please, Joel. I'll do anything." you insist smally, eyes fluttering shut. his lips ghost over your hairline and then peck your cheek in a shocking show of kindness. 

"you can take it?" he murmurs against your lips. hope sparks in your heart and your bare ankles wrap around his his, pressing him against you, "yes, yes." you promise, nodding eagerly. he hums in thought.

"I'll fuck you with my fingers, then." 

you gasp, hips jolting when his fingers spread your sopping lips, his eyes intent on your face as he circles your entrance. the tip of a finger notches against you and you flutter around him; your hands grasp onto his forearm and shoulder, staring up with a gasp. you're aching - you need him, any of him. 

"Jesus, look at'you." he groans, muttering as his head dips to watch your pussy suck his fingers in with ease. he slowly pushes until he's knuckle-deep, groaning, "greedy little thing." 

but his eyes stare and he doesn't move; you take it upon yourself to rock your hips, gasping at the pleasure you find as you take him even deeper.

he looks desperate, with his eyes wide, curls wet, mussed, and peppered on his head. "baby, I've gotta taste you." he grunts, suddenly sliding back down to lay between your legs; you mewl in shock as his mouth attaches to your clit in moments.

his fingers, then, start to thrust. gentle, at first, but you're so stimulated you shake your head, "can't-I can't." you whimper.

he shakes his head, the action notching his nose once again against your clit and sending shots of euphoria through you. you feel numb and on fire, eyes rolling back.

"you can, and you will." he mutters into your pussy, tongue sliding across the sopping plane of you as his fingers pick up their pace; your thighs clench shut around his head and squeeze - you can't help it - and he moans a genuine sound of pleasure at the feeling. 

"you were so ready to when it was my cock. maybe I should use some of your toys you love tellin' strangers at bars about so much." he grunts, "make this little pussy cream even more."

your face burns as your eyes snap to him; a shiver of interest is soon overcome with the knowledge that you couldn't handle that; you glare at his words, anyways. that was one time, to him. when you were drunk. sure, not the best first impression, but- look where it got you. 

you shake your head as you writhe below him, his lips returning to your sensitive mound to suck harshly as his fingers start to pump harder into you. he decides for himself with a hum, pulling away slightly, "no, you taste too fuckin' good. gonna stay here all night." 

you believe him. 

he tears you apart, tongue lapping you up, twisting his fingers, curling them as he slides them into you; the noise of your cunt wetly taking Joel's fingers and mouth make your eyes roll back.

he's everywhere - your fingers twist once again into the bedsheets, your toes curling as all of your muscles tense. 

his fingers leave you suddenly, the feeling leaving you to suck a gasp into your lungs as he trails his hand over the valley of your breasts and into your mouth; you suck your juices off of his fingers eagerly, your mouth falling open in a yelp when he nips gently at your clit. 

you jerk away, knowing you're sharply close to your next orgasm, your body tremoring and tears forming in your eyes.

the overwhelming pleasure is building immensely and you squirm away from him with a gasp hands coming to cover your pussy as it spasms, aching and leaking arousal.

"J-Joel- I can't," you wail. 

he tuts, "c'mon, taste fuckin' amazing. love this little pussy." his arms snake around your hips, dragging you back and smacking your own hands away from your core. you sigh at the gentle swirl of his tongue through your swollen folds, hands carding into his hair and gripping tight. he mutters it quietly, "jus' one more, sweetheart, you can do it." 

you whimper, a tear streaming down your cheek and onto your neck, "I can't, it feels so good, I can't-" you whimper, a direct contradiction to the shaking quiver of your thighs as you roll your hips, savoring the feel of Joel's thick tongue against you. 

he hums lowly at your hip's movements and it makes you scream; the vibration and the nudge of his nose on your clit too much- 

it hits you all at once. 

you can't see anything; your hand flies to the sheets as one hand pushes Joel hard away, euphoria slamming into you harder than you ever have.

you feel the pads of his fingers, swirling over your clit as your hips buck wildly. you're sobbing, a state of bliss you've never felt before. your orgasm lasts much longer than you'd expected, euphoria rolling in waves that keep coming to shore.

when you come to, pussy still clenching in residual flutters, you have to suck in a deep breath.

through your tears, you see Joel's face; the bottom half is soaked in your juices, even the mattress is damp from your high - oh. you didn't know you could do that. 

he presses a kiss to your thigh - you jolt, whimpering lightly. he shushes you, hands finding your hips as you shake, trying to come down from that high. "four." he mutters, smirking as you groan, your head falling back. "fuck." you hiss, throat raw. 

"that wasn't so hard, was it sweetheart?" he snarks, still not moving from between your thighs, though you're sure they're dead weight on top of his shoulders. says him.

"fuck you, Joel-" but your words stop short and you gasp, hands flying as you feel Joel's tongue lick up the side of your cunt; "I can't Joel-" you sob, shaking your head, "'s too much."

you're so overstimulated you feel like you're floating -  but after your shock you realize he's avoiding the sensitive areas, gently swirling his tongue in your wetness. tasting you just for the sake of it. he just shushes you once again- "hey, hey," he soothes, hand petting your hip gently, "just tastin' it. gotta clean you up." you shouldn't, but you feel a hot flood of arousal just at his words. your hands relax in his hair as he slowly moves his mouth around you, avoiding your oversensitive clit mercifully. 

"you just rest. did real good, sweetheart. was so fuckin' sexy." you can't rest, though your body slumps and your eyes shut - his tongue runs lazy, thick circles around your pussy, gentle. you can tell - it's not for you, and maybe it never really was; Joel's loving it, and he's not planning on stopping anytime soon. 

and you stay like that - eyes closed, catching your breath and calming your tears, as Joel's hands run soothing shapes over your side and thighs, his mouth not leaving you for a second.

it was minutes, could have been almost an hour, and you slowly fell from your teetering edge of unraveling; instead, a slow burn was once again ignited in your stomach as Joel lapped away at you, eating you out gently and devotedly.

occasionally there was a groan or a moan from him, gentle - or a mutter into you about how good you tasted. you'd move your hips gently when something fluttered deliciously and you chased that feeling, thinking of all Joel's words tonight which have made you flush - and most of them praise. 

he's like a man starved. 

and by the time you start to climb that hill again, your muscles aching but pussy fluttering in desire, you're burning up. you cry again, gently.

he brings you to orgasm a fifth time with a moan into your pussy and your hand gripping his own for dear life.

he laps everything that spills from your weeping cunt as you let out a scream of his name, swallowed by the noise of the outside thunder. you shake and tremor, blissed beyond anything you've felt, tired and spent.

he holds himself to you and you have to twist, crawling away from the devilish mouth that calls your name, his hands gentle as he lets you go; finally having mercy on your destroyed body.

you feel like you're floating, unable to stop shaking. 

it's then that he chooses to strip down to his boxers; you watch him with shock as he does so, unsure if he's going to propose you take his cock now - you don't know if you could.

instead, he drops a kiss to your forehead. "I'll be back." 

he's in there long enough for you to deduce that he's decided to take care of himself on his own, in the shower - a decision that disappoints you but also seems very thoughtful. there's that flicker of selflessness you see sometimes in Joel - the things he tries to hide.

you hear the faucet running in the bathroom and when he comes back, there's a washcloth and a cup of water for you.

he doesn't wipe between your legs until you're done shaking - and after, you sit there, your hand curled around his bicep, while he soothes over a few strands of your hair.

"gonna need new candles." you mutter, nodding to where they all sit, dripped down to within an inch, wax splattered atop your table and over the side of the foot chest. 

"I'll get you a million candles 'f you let me taste you like that again." his chest rumbles as he speaks. a flicker of butterflies once again appear in your chest and you shrug, "I know I said I like when it isn't rough..." you trail off, face burning, "-but none of them ever did... any of that. and I really liked that." 

besides, you both knew the moment it left your mouth that your words weren't true - in honesty, Joel has done nothing but rough you up and you always crawl back for more. you wouldn't have it any other way.

he scoffs, "good thing you're mine now." he mutters, "taste like fuckin' heaven. could watch you squirm all day." he drops a kiss to your temple and your eyes bore down at your lap; his words hold a semblance of possessiveness - not unfamiliar to this thing that you have with him, but now much more meaningful to you. why is your heart fluttering so fast, a grin growing on your face? 

he clears his throat after a moment, shifting to sit up. in the process, your arm falls from his and you turn to look at him. 

"do you remember last time I was in here?" he asks suddenly and you have to snort. "was dying of infection, yes I remember." 

he sends you a look. "you were not dyin'. don't be dramatic." he counters, eyes narrowed.

you grin, rolling your eyes, "you were the one who was acting like it was such a big deal." you defend with a shake of your head. he sighs, "well I-" he stops short and it occurs to you that he's having trouble getting words out.

you look into his eyes gently, and he's searching yours. you're not sure what he's looking for. "shit," he mumbles, looking slightly lost - you've seen him like this, before - once. 

"I'm tryin' to be less...mean. when it counts." he says intently, looking at you. "y'know, after we talked, and I..." 

he trails off but you wait patiently for him to find his words.

he finds them eventually. "-well, that time I was here, when I helped you with your bandage..." he stutters his way through it and takes a deep breath. "I said something, that night." he starts again, running his hand over his face.

"you tend to say a lot of things when we're together." you supplement, your heartrate picking up. you're starting to feel your fight or flight kick in. 

he rolls his eyes. "yeah, well. I said... that you were probably hopin' I would want t'make you my girl." oh. yes, you remember that. "-and I said that it was pathetic you'd think that." he says, not looking at you.

you too look away; yes, he's said many cruel things to you - that one, in particular, has haunted you many nights after waking up from dreams of warmth and sunshine and Joel's hand in yours. 

"one of your best lines yet." you say, unsure what else to do. your gut twists in rejection at just the memory - then, it'd been in the heat of an argument and you'd just used it as kindling to fuel your fire, but it has since become a more prevalent proof every time you start to think too much about the what ifs. 

Joel isn't amused by your words. "I'm just saying, if you did ever want somethin' like that - not that you would, but...it wouldn't be pathetic." he finally finishes. "it was a stupid thing to say." he mumbles quickly, still looking away - through the dim glow of the dying candles, you can see the red on his cheeks. 

you feel hot, the implications of his words. he wouldn't mind if you wanted him to be yours. if you wanted to be his. your stomach flips.

grazing your hand over his back, you brush your lips to his shoulder. "you didn't mean it. we say a lot of things we don't mean. both of us." you answer softly, your lips caressing his bare shoulder. you feel the goosebumps under you across his skin at the touch and fight a small smile.

“remember when I tried to hit you?” you ask, thinking back to that disastrous dinner and the delicious aftermath on his foyer floor.

he smirks, finding the courage to look down at you. “think ‘bout it a lot.”

you hit his shoulder playfully, shaking your head with your own wry grin. of course he does.

he looks at you faintly, a hint of a smile flickering over his face. "we've been through a lot of shit together." he murmurs. he eyes the dresser across from you, lit up by a candle; you don't know how, but somehow he pinpoints exactly where you've hidden your gun, in your sock drawer. and he probably knows exactly why it's hidden.

"-don’t get me wrong, I like this thing we got goin’ for us, with the teasing and fighting - but I just want you to know I trust you. and I care about you." he says just as gently, his face flustered. your face heats at his words, a gust of affection blowing through you at his bashfulness.

you smile, leaning in to him; your hands snake around his neck as you gently pull his face to you. he finds more words, "sometimes you're a pain in my ass-" he raises a brow before you can snap back at him- "-but nothing you could do is... pathetic. 'specially not thinking something like that."

his eyes are large and hold none of the desire that they did thirty minutes ago; instead they hold something much deeper, more vulnerable. you don't feel scared by it.

you smile, "I trust you, Joel." his eyes stare into yours unafraid. "thank you. I care about you too."

and you're not ready to say everything else to him - no, not yet, even though your heart's known it for a while and so have you, somewhere in the back of your mind. 

you do want something like that. you want exactly that. 

"-and," he starts, "since this was your idea of something more civilized," he sends you a look through the corner of his eye; you know this isn't the worst of your sins committed with Joel, but you recognize his sentiment with a smirk, thinking back to your earlier words. you hide your growing smile as he adds:

"-maybe we could get drinks sometime." 

taglist closed - this is the last fic that will be using my taglist. moving on, I've made a notifs blog - @tremendumnotifs - for ppl to follow for notifications. tysm!!]

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[appleblueberry-pie]

yandere miles 42 when a guys asks you out to prom yk like where they make a whole scene a cardboard box cut into a square and it has will you go out to prom with me 😭😭 and says the most cheasy thing making you cringe and a large group of ppl are surrounding you two but we reject them and they get mad and you tell miles all abt it ^^ i love your posts btw🙏🏽

[Come back home to me.]

You knew something funny was gonna happen when people were smiling your way, giggling and whispering about you. And the further you trekked down the hallway, the more crowded it was. You tried to keep your eyes to yourself as you slithered through the crowd. Clutching your backpack straps harder. Phones were out and on you, you felt a little nervous. This day has been hard enough for you. Long, grueling hours in class, people chatting up a storm in your ears, a mind-blowing headache that you've had all damn day that you could only take medication for just 30 minutes ago. You were tired.

"Hey, Y/n!" You tense up before sighing, shoulders dropping. How much happier would you be if you just ignored the call of your name and dealt with the backlash tomorrow, instead? You recognized the voice, and knew that if you ignored him...you'd be dealing with the consequences forever. You decided to turn around.

There goes Travis. His dark brown complexion and well-maintained dreads make him stand out. They were pulled back into a low pony, probably because he knew these videos would be the talk of the school for a while. He always loved the spotlight. A junior, like you, giving you that smile that all of the girls bothered him to give to them. It's directed right at you while he holds a beautifully made sign. It's humongous. And pink. And purple. Colors that you don't remember telling him were your favorite. Your head begins to hurt again when you notice your name drawn in amazing detail and care, followed by something among the lines of "prom" and "love of my life."

Somehow in the time span that you scanned your eyes over the sign that determined your possibly inevitable doom, a perfect circle was formed by the students who stood and watched you two like hawks. The flash on phones made you calculate that these videos wouldn't leave the internet for at least a month. Great. A month of reminders. A month of prodding and picking at your sanity from a place you have to go to damn near every day for an education. And a month of replays of a rejection.

You're not telling him yes.

Travis's homeboys hoot and holler to encourage him. "Y/n..." He starts, taking a step closer to you. A fake smile wobbles onto your lips and you stare up at him. "......yes...?" Everyone suddenly goes silent as you two begin to converse.

The way he stares at you makes you feel like....what he's looking for in you isn't something you'd give up for any high school boy anytime. Because what he wants, you know it isn't genuine love. So it makes you nervous the way he seems to tower over you during his, so called, "profession of love".

"Your beauty and smarts is something I've always wanted in a girl." His voice is loud and clear. It echoes throughout the hallway, like he wants everyone to hear. You don't think the halls have ever been so quiet. "Everyday, I'd pass you in the hallways while you carry your textbooks and wonder what it'd be like talking to you every morning before class. What it would be like to love you the way you deserve to be loved." His vague explanation of his love towards you had you wondering if anyone else also realized how fake this whole thing was.

His dark brown eyes never leave your face and he's right in front of you now. "So, I made this sign...to show you how much I love you. And how much I want to be with you. So, if it isn't so much to ask," Travis slowly puts the sign aside and drops to one knee, taking one of your hands into his, holding it carefully. "would you please go to prom with me? And let me be your man?"

The longer he watched the live feed, the harder it was to not burn his work space to the ground. The longer he listened, the harder he tweaked his claw he was attempting to fix. He was trying. He was trying so hard to stay calm. Because it's not like you'd say yes. But at the same time, no matter how often he kills or beats niggas up, "They just keep fucking touching you, puto cabrón!" He swipes the table, his tools and broken claw flying to the ground. Miles takes deep breaths, holding his head in his hands.

He stands up, turning off his phone and begins pacing. He didn't wanna see the rest of that. Why does he have to keep doing this? Don't they understand your his? Just his??? Yes, you're the shining light that keeps Brooklyn alive, yes, yes, this isn't news. But he's always with you. So why do they keep bothering you?

It doesn't matter because he's gonna keep killing them until they get the message. The more roaches he brings into the light, the better. He suddenly rushes to his phone and quickly dials your number, chest heaving as he tries to calm himself.

Your phone silently vibrates in your back pocket and your heart drops. It had to be Miles. Because he wasn't at school today and this definitely wouldn't have happened if he was here. You're so fucked, you think to yourself as everyone cheers at Travis's speech. And it goes silent again as they wait for your answer.

Suddenly, Travis is so hard to look at. You didn't want to be stared at like that when he's gonna die in the next few hours. Miles was gonna get him and it'd be your fault. He always said it wasn't and would caress your face as reassurance, but there's no excuse when he only kills these guys at school because they talk to you. And not for any other reason. You always have to be where the line is drawn.

"No, I can't go to prom with you." You say, chest lifting of the thousand pound weight that held it down. Travis didn't even look sad, he still had that adoring look in his eyes. And you then knew that he was faking all of this. "Why not? Is it because of Miles?" He stands, still holding your hand and shakes his head. "If he's bothering you, I could....get rid of him if you want. Cause that nigga, he a fucking weirdo. And he clearly, like, has you hostage or something, cause he ain't nothing special. Any one of us is better than him." He scoffs at the mention of him and his friends laugh with him.

You shake your head and take your hand away. "No, sorry, Travis. I just....don't wanna go." He rolls his eyes and smiles at you, picking up his sign. "Whatever. That's aight." He tosses it in the nearest trash can. You wonder if he even made that himself with the way he tossed it with zero regards. He turns back to you one last time and nods. "I'll holler. Let me know when you get rid of yo little guard dog. He be stinking the halls anyway."

And everyone dispersed.

You let out the breath you didn't know you were holding. You think this city is going to be the death of you with how many times you've gotten unwanted attention based on your looks. You tense up once more when you remember that Miles was calling you. The sudden silence after multiple calls was never a good thing. You yanked your phone out of your pocket and saw the 20-something missed calls and whispered to yourself in fear.

Immediately, you began your journey to his place.

His room was dark and cold. Only the light from outside his window illuminated it. You softly dropped your backpack into the usual corner and backed up to sit on his bed, but your back softly collided with a warm wall that also wrapped it's arms around your torso. You flinched as Miles exhaled in your ear, his head resting on your shoulder. "Miles, what the hell...."

He squeezes you a little and backs you both up, until he brings you to sit on his lap on his bed. He shifts you, so that you're facing him, his hand caressing your face and rubbing your back. "Hermosa como siempre, mami. How was your day?"(Beautiful as always, mami.) He whispers it to you, to calm you down. You're visibly nervous at his actions, expecting him to explode any minute.

"Um...it was alright. I did my project in 3rd period and got a coffee drink with my lunch. And..... I got asked to prom." You stare down at him, watching him scan you up and down, and let him 'check' your pockets before resting his hands on your waist. "Yeah? Who asked?" He already knew the answer, but wanted to hear it from you.

You severely struggled to tell him it was Travis. You were tired of him killing people. You were tired of the apologies from men who were beaten half to death because of you. You scrunched your eyebrows as your throat began to close.

"Hm?" He asked. You hated how calm he was about this. How he held you so dearly as you fidgeted with your uniform skirt. Tears built up in your eyes and you shook your head. Miles pulled you closer, immediately wiping your eyes. "No, no, por favor no llores, nena. No estés triste. I just want you to tell me who did it, that's all."(No, no, please don't cry, baby. Don't be sad.) You break into full out sobbing and wipe at your eyes.

"I don't- don't want to because you're gonna kill him!" You stutter and manage to spit out your words, voice wobbly. Miles shushes you and rocks you back and forth, resting your head on his chest. His voice rumbles in your ears when he speaks. "You don't have to worry about a thing when I'm here with you, N/n. All I want is for you to drop his name, and everything else doesn't matter."

He kisses your forehead sweetly, letting his lips linger for a few seconds. "Okay?" You nod and try to take deep breaths. You couldn't win against him. He probably already knew who proposed to you, and Travis's fate still wouldn't be unavoidable. "Travis." You felt immense guilt and despair the moment you dropped his name.

"Travis...." Miles repeats. Just putting his name in the air made him pissed all over again. He stays silent for a few seconds before tilting his head to the side. "I just realized why that name is so familiar," He starts. "That's that nigga who robbed and threatened you last year, ain't it?" Miles scoffs and turns to look at you. "Is that why you didn't leave when he brought up that sign? Cause of what he did to you?"

You scrunch your eyebrows at his words and sit up. "How do you know about that?" You didn't meet Miles until a month after you were robbed by Travis in your sophomore year. So, him knowing about that was weird, especially since you never brought it up to him before. Miles ignores your question and continues. "I should've known some shit was off." Miles places you on the bed and gets up, grabbing some clothes to change into.

You rush to stand in front of him to stop him. "Miles, wait! Please- please don't do this. He didn't even do anything to me. All he did is ask me out. I said no. What's wrong with that??"

"What's wrong with that is that nigga is gonna keep fucking getting at you until he can get into your pants, baby. I'm not stupid. These niggas know what they doin' riling you up and sending you back home to me crying and shit. Ain't you tired??" Miles begins to size you up, backing you towards his bedroom door, clothes clutched in his hand as he stares down at you.

"I am fucking tired. And I'm also tired of you ruining my life by making more rumors for niggas to spread about me. Nobody wants to be near me because of you, Miles!" You jab your finger into his chest and he grabs your hand. "You don't need nobody else." You hear his breathing speed up and realized you should've kept your mouth shut.

It's too damn silent for your liking. All you can hear is him and your heartbeat in your ears. "When the fuck have you ever needed anyone else besides me?.....I take care of you. I feed you, I do your fucking hair every morning, I walk you to and from school, I protect you. Es que no es suficiente?(Is that not enough?)" You don't respond and stare up into brown eyes that glare down at you. "How 'bout I show you how good you got it?" You try to pull your hand back, but his iron grip isn't letting up. "What.....? Miles, let me go."

"What's wrong, mi corazón? Don't wanna see?" Miles almost jokingly asks about your sudden concern. He steps into your space once more and firmly grabs your face. "Look at me when I tell you this,"

He shakes his head. "You don't know how to protect yourself. I'm the only one who knows how to keep you safe in these fucked up streets. When was the last time you felt protected before you met me? Huh? Cause I know you haven't. I'm meant to be here with you! I'm protecting you from the horrible fucking things that are happening out there that could've been happening to you, baby. You heard?"

You struggle to remove his hands from your face and he makes no move to stop the distress he's putting you in. "Okay, okay, Miles. Just...please stop."

Miles places a kiss onto your forehead before holding you in his arms. You sigh relief at the release of pressure and let him hold you. "Volveré pronto, okay? And then we can do whatever you want."(I'll be back soon) You allow yourself to relax and your eyes flutter shut. Sometimes you wonder how much it'll take for him to stop taking his obsession out on Brooklyn.

[inamagicalhallucination]

i rlly like when ppl write a dynamic between atsushi and dazai thats essentially dazai getting help or whatever becuz he himself doesnt think he needs it or that itll work but someone said well what if atsushi was going through this

for example

someone: dazai you need therapy

dazai: no way they'll take my funny bone ! therapy is for suckers

someone: ... i think atsushi would benefit from therapy

dazai: oh yea probably

someone: but you know he has trouble asking for help but if theres someone already showing him that therapys fine...

dazai: ...he'll go... hmmm well as his senpai i should lead by example!!

/

dazai: i don't have trauma - like i didn't go through anything bad

someone: well what if atsushi went through what you did

dazai:

dazai: oh shit-

/

dazai: treatment wont help me - why should i bother

someone: well atsushi's been leaning towards getting it-

dazai: oh i dont want him to feel alone....

/

dazai: even if i did come to enjoy life - it's the part of it i dont deserve - the ppl i've tricked into thinking theres something worthwhile in me-

someone: oh i literally just heard atsushi say he thought the same thing-

dazai, already rushing towards atsushi to explain that theyre both wrong: shit-

/

like obviously he's not magically better but ya know i like the idea that dazai just doesnt understand / want to understand that mayhaps he should get help until someones like put atsushi in ur shoes

/

i cant decide if itd be funner if atsushi knew or didnt know what was going on

like on one hand atsushi could be very pleased at how much dazai cares about him - on the other hand he could still be pleased by dazai's care while being confused why he comes to atsushi randomly and tries to convince him to do things he's already doing

dazai: atsushi! therapy is good for you!

atsushi, who's already chosen a therapist, confused: i mean yeah-

dazai: you shouldn't feel bad or weak for seeking it! in fact, it very brave to be able to reach out like that!

atsushi, tearing up a little, touched that dazai was worried atsushi would be scared: o-oh dazai-san thank you

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

wibta if i asked for help from the ppl who i harassed for months?

ok so basically i (18f, at the time 16f) really like this group. but one day they just went on "indefinite hiatus" for no reason. and obviously i was really mad. so after a few months of trying to pick the right person to blame i decided it was entirely thr fault of this one asshole, who literally went and made his OWN GROUP like right after this hiatus was announced. the little turd clearly wanted out due to hating his members. and that's not even the worst part. he actually started gaining traction after this dumb little move. and after the turd made a collab with a pretty popular kpop group (and we all know how kpop stans are with their mass streaming) this loser was getting more attention than thr guy that I LIKE.

my guy was the most talented pretty and popular member of the group when it was active, and he could sell out dome tours with his solo work all the time. he just did that in fact. but now that this other bitch was using kpop stans for clout he was the one getting all the attention. and it rubbed off on his group he made and their trash music as well. but this isn't about him it's about me.

like i said i got really upset, and once i decided this was all turd boy's fault, i shamelessly harassed fans of this "person" and the dumb little group he made, mostly by way of spamming gore in their discord servers and wikis. this lasted for months until one of them eventually doxxed me back. i'll admit i shouldn't have done all of this. but i was just fighting against traitors in the industry.

but, it's been over a year since then. and i've moved on. until a few weeks ago. this third guy "came out" in a clear pr stunt. like with a whole press confrence and everything he didnt even try to hide it. and then he dropped a new song right after. somebody's jealous of the sold out dome tour!

but not everyone realises its a pr stunt. ppl are falling for it and streaming the new somg. and if the hype doesn't die down soon my guy will be in THIRD. i can't let that happen or else i'd be a failure but i have a plan.

hypothetically, i would slide back into the discord server, explain my dilemma, and maybe stans of the first turd would be willing to mass stream my guy's amazing new song and i guess i'll mass stream whatever crap their guy shat out recently. they're smart people, they doxxed my cats after all. i'm sure they'll understand.

but i fear that it would be kind of a dick move to act all buddy buddy with a server who i went crazy on and harassed for months on end. but on the other hand i can't let my idol be at only third most monthly listeners in his old group!! so i don't know what to do, wibta if i went through with this?

What are these acronyms?

[general-cyno]

y'know, one zolu moment I don't talk about nearly as much as I should but that I love and find super interesting is the bar fight on jaya. and though I know there's mixed opinions on the latter, I also like the contrast between jaya AND whiskey peak.

when it comes to whiskey peak... I'm somewhere in the middle. as a concept I find it interesting too, since it involves zoro doing things on his own for the sake of the crew for the first time (iirc) and luffy being faced with the possibility of zoro not acting as honorably as he believes or trusts zoro to be at that point. thing is, luffy is someone who places great value in the kindness he receives and returns it tenfold. it's something we see throughout the story and in jaya as well actually, with cricket and his crew! this is also what's attracted him to most of the straw hats (if not every) and his allies also. so in theory, I don't think luffy reacting negatively to zoro attacking the ppl who'd been kind to him and the crew for seemingly no reason is entirely out of character, especially after waking up so disorientedly, and at least not that early on in the manga. he emphasizes it too, when he shows up to fight zoro,

the problem for me lies more on the actual execution of it rather than the idea as a whole. kinda goofy for luffy and zoro to drop lines like "now we'll find out who's superior" during it as if they'd had some sort of fighting style rivalry beforehand and it's kinda removed from the og point of the fight but they're dumb kids and the story can take some goofy turns at times so. shrugs.

I can't tell if whiskey peak was originally meant to have an impact or effect on their relationship afterwards (some opinions I've read insist oda was forced to include it) but if anything, it ended up demonstrating zoro and luffy are better off fighting together than against each other, even as they're going on about killing and beating the other up over a misunderstanding. it reminds me of one comment I read on a r/ddit post a while ago (about another topic though) that pointed out how in terms of fighting styles, zoro and luffy kind of complement and make up for each other's weaknesses, which is such a nice detail and layer to their relationship imo.

and assuming there was a genuine point to it all (it's more fun that way heh), I'd say that it really highlights the importance of moments like those in jaya and luffy choosing to trust zoro not to fight back against bellamy's crew.

as luffy has learned this far, zoro would never hurt anyone for no reason and if there's a "reason" it's usually, if not always, rooted in his wish and duty to keep everyone safe (in whiskey peak, the townsfolk were actually baroque works agents, bounty hunters, who had a tendency to trick pirates like them at the start of the grand line). plus, zoro may enjoy battle but he doesn't fight for revenge or feelings/motives of the sort, as he admits later in skypiea. he does, however, react when the people he cares about are in danger (*waves hand and points at anything involving luffy*), hurt (chopper in skypiea as an example, but there's plenty more) or he witnesses great injustice (like yasuie's execution in wano). he's also not the type to enjoy beating up someone weaker, much less for shits and giggles. he will even save enemies if luffy asks him to, as long as it doesn't pose a bigger or immediate (real) threat to the crew.

compare zoro saving smoker in alabasta vs him refusing to accept x drake as an ally at first due to his known status as a traitor in the wano arc, for example.

and of course jaya isn't an exception. when bellamy attacks luffy, zoro responds as usual:

luffy himself stands up ready to fight too, at first. but as nami brings up the sky island and everyone mocks them for it, then bellamy specifically takes it upon himself to ridicule them - insisting on how foolish it is for ppl to "waste time" chasing their dreams, especially pirates, luffy decides not to fight back and tells zoro to do the same.

this is one of those instances in which the "lu" of zolu really shines through, if you ask me. zoro's got a handful of grand gestures toward luffy on his belt, but this is one in which luffy does the heavy lifting for me. this is acknowledgedment and an insane amount of trust, a moment in which luffy's relying on zoro to understand his motives and to push back his usual protectiveness when faced with an enemy displaying a lot of hostility. and zoro gets it, stays true to the trust luffy's placing on him. he doesn't fight back, not even as nami watches and wonders why.

I sound like a broken record at this point, but OP's brought up in several and different circumstances the fact that luffy and zoro are actually pretty similar. they tend to behave the same way or echo each other's words even when they're apart, share similar views on death, on growing stronger for the sake of the ppl they care about, and more so when it comes to chasing and fighting for their dreams.

in the aftermath of the bar encounter, blackbeard tells nami that luffy and zoro actually won that fight. this includes a curious panel in which luffy reminisces both shanks and ace.

it makes sense why luffy shared this particular moment with zoro, when you think about it. those two are dreamers through and through, and if there's characters who can understand the importance of not only chasing those dreams but also keeping a promise, it's them - whose dreams they initially shared with ppl they cherished as kids and made promises to. for luffy there's ace and sabo, and shanks. for zoro it was kuina, then as an adult there was luffy himself. in a lot of ways, the straw hat is to luffy what wado ichimonji is to zoro. during that fight, bellamy represented everything luffy and zoro stand against both as characters and thematically speaking. and that, along with everything luffy's learned/come to know so far about zoro, is what he relied on. it's so good.

later, there's this scene with zoro and the rest, where nami wonders why zoro didn't go with luffy to face bellamy again:

(fun bit here is that zoro actually asked luffy before if he needed his help. it's a small panel but cute! he trusts that luffy can handle himself, as luffy told him he could, and knows there's no stopping him when he's made up his mind lol.)

whether zoro was referring to bellamy's strength or his lack of belief in/mockery of dreams, or both, it's clear he understood why luffy chose to do what he did and asked him to stay put back in the bar, and he could relate to luffy's motives as well. as I mentioned above, it makes sense why zoro in specific would, without luffy voicing them out loud.

the nicest part is how all of these moments are a product of the writing that's gone into luffy and zoro's relationship/dynamic. when luffy chooses to trust zoro with stuff like this, there's a chunk of context that precedes it (like whiskey peak). and when zoro decides to follow him, too, it's because his loyalty for and understanding of luffy has been continually built as the story progresses which is super compelling, and also wonderful to see.

[silversainz]

number 44

Lewis Hamilton x reader

Summary: Lewis loves the fact that even though you catch the attention of everyone else, he still has you all for himself.

requests combined: "half request/half just a late night thought but staff/race engineer!yn and lewis having a flirty relationship and lewis mentioning how he thinks it’s hot that ur work shirts all have lh44 on them specifically, teasing u and saying it makes him possessive, especially if team members of other teams flirt with u"

And "can i make a request about mercedes engineer! reader like u don’t have a big social media presence but ur friends with the merc social media admin and they post u and u go viral online for being hot and ppl wanting to know who u are and all day the team is affectionately teasing u for it except lewis who’s jealous bc he’s always flirted with u but u never thought twice of it thinking he’s like that with everyone. like he overhears another team crew member talk about u and he’s like 🙄"

warnings: fluff, flirty!lewis, light jealously, possessive aggressive behavior (but in a soft way?), petnames, flirty!reader, sexual tension, suggestive themes, sorry for taking ages to write this, crappy ending.

liked by, yourusername, sebastianvettel and 800,678 others

Mercedesamgf1 get you somebody who could rock the Mercedes merch as well as @.yourusername

User67 holy shit she's beautiful

user89 Lewis who? George who? Sorry I only know her

User90 she's gorgeous holy hell

User45 she's hot, marry me

user3 so beautiful, I would leave my wife for you

user67 she looks incredible! Glad to see her getting the recognization she deserves!

view all 9,000 comments

"look somebody said "so beautiful, I would leave my wife for her," everybody at the table laughed, including you. as you looked at all the comments on the Mercedes post with you in it.

"I don't think I've ever been this hit on in my entire life" you snorted at your own little comment, as everybody laughed again at your sad joke

"oh babe you haven't met me them" John, one of the youngest engineers said as he slid in the booth next to you, his arm going around your shoulder. "How you doing, I'm John" you gigged at his joke and jokingly shook his hand that he held out for you.

"well hello John" you said in the most flirtatious voice that you could ever pull on, and watched as his cheeks turned red.

"aww he's blushing" one of the other engineers David stated, making John go all shy and cover his face up with his hands.

"I hate y'all" you all laughed at poor John. you decided to make matters even worse and pinched his cheek "aww, but he's cute when he's blushing" and with that John jumped up from his seat and went to go sit back down beside David looking away from you embarrassed and cheeks growing even more red if that was possible.

"alright boys I need to head back to work" they all whined, but you ignored them and headed to the hallway making your way towards your motorhome that the team gave you, but stopping when you saw Lewis standing in the hallway learning against the wall with his phone in his hands.

"hey Lew, what are you here?" he looked up from his phone at the sound of your voice approaching him

"so you've never been hit on before huh?" you looked at him confused, but eyes going wide as the realization hit you. now it was your cheeks that turned red.

"were you spying on us Lew?" you crooked your head to the side, a cheek grin on your face.

"couldn't help myself, John was getting a little too friendly with something of mine"

"something of mine huh" you gave him a teasingly smile, but it soon dropping as he casually walked up to you while placing his hands on your hips.

"yes something of mine" you felt your breath get caught in your throat as you felt him pull himself closer to you, if that was even possible.

"you looked beautiful by the way on your first Instagram post" he leaned in towards your ear, his lips placing light kisses to your cheek making his way towards your jaw.

"Lew we're in public" your voice was shaky, afraid that somebody was going to see you and him practically pressed up against each other in the hallway.

"okay and" you felt his hand slide up your back, his fingers tracing over the two numbers that laid out across your back, number 44, as his other hand cupped your cheek making you look up at him as his finger played with your bottom lip.

"I love it when you wear my number on your body, you look gorgeous with it on" he leaned in giving your cheek a kiss, before he pulled away from your frame eyeing your figure up and down a smirk pulling at his lips. as he put his hands in his pocket.

"I'll see you around love" he gave you a wink as he turned on his heel walking from you, frozen in place, breathless and wanting to feel his hands on you again.

Lewis soon returned to the garage, making his way back over to his seat, which ironically was beside john. "Hey have you seen --, thought she was supposed to be coming out soon?" he fought the urge to roll his eyes at the kid.

"no I haven't seen her" his response was blunt and sharp, which made John give him a weird look and turn away from him.

"hey John, did you see the Mercedes post of ---" another engineer who wasn't sat at the table at the time, picked up his phone and showed John the photo. which made Lewis roll his eyes as he heard the two boys fan over you.

"yeah, she looked gorgeous and she's such a nice girl" again he ignored them

"yeah, I talked with her. she's amazing" and ignored

"plus her body-

and that was the final straw for him, he cleared his throat loud enough for the two boys to hear "can you two shut up, we're in a important meeting" Lewis stated cutting the two off, both boys immediately shutting up and giving him weird looks, but remained silent. Which he was thankful for.

you walked out of your motorhome, files in your arms, freshened up and a different shirt on which now had George's numbers on it. as you walked into the garage, you noticed John and Scott and walked over to them

"hey there she is!" you laughed at John's loud voice and shushed him, white sitting down beside him. you noticed Lewis giving you a glare, as he eyes the now different shirt. But you ignored it and focused on toto who made his way into the garage with multiple files for the new car parts.

As the meeting ended and everybody got up from their seats, you looked around before going over to Lewis "you changed shirts" he said before you could even get a word out.

"yeah figured I needed to wear someone else" he rolled his eyes, jaw clenched tightly.

"looked better when it was my number" he looked up at you, a little tent in his eyes that clearly showed he was a little mad at how you changed shirts.

but you only shrugged, a innocent smile on your face "oh well, I like George's number better. looks better on me" you giggled as you saw his knuckles turn white from gripping onto the table so hard.

he said nothing as he got up from the table his hand grabbing onto yours as he pulled you away from everybody, not caring that they gave you both Weird looks as they saw you both leaving with each other

"Lewis slow down." He did in fact not slow down until you both were standing in front of his motorhome, where he unlocked the door and pushed you inside, relocking it once he was inside with you.

"so, you planning on kidnapping me from them?" he shook his head at your words, giving you a light chuckle.

"nope just wanted some alone time with you" he confessed, as he slowly walked up to you, his hands immediately cupping your face as he cashed his lips on yours. the kiss was slow and tender at first, like it was your first kiss. but it slowly turned sloppy and rough as he backed you up against the nearest wall, your leg automatically wrapping around his waist.

"you looked much better with my number on"

"well, why don't you take this off me then" you taunted him, his hand playing with the hem of your shirt. making you lift up your arms as he took the shirt off your body, the black tank top underneath still covering you up

"see, you look even better like this" he leaned forward, placing lingering kisses to your neck. "so, so much better like this" he pulled himself away from you going over to sit on the couch where he patted his lap making you walk over to him straddling his lap, his hands stroking the back of your thighs.

"so about earlier, 'something of mine'" you raised your eyebrows at him, making him shrug clearly not thinking much if his words.

"what I don't like when people flirt with something of mine, is that so bad?" He said, his hand going under your tank top making goosebumps appear on your skin as his cold hand hit your warm skin.

"since when was I considered yours"

he tilted his head pretending to think, "since last week. When you came over to my place and you let me have you all night long" you looked at him in shock, mouth sightly open as you felt your cheeks turn red at his bold words of truth.

"I think you know what I'm talking about, no"

"I hate you" you leaned forward burying your head in his chest, getting embarrassed. the air in the room getting hotter and hotter as each second passed. he chuckled at your embarrassment and softly messed with your hair

"no you don't. now look at me" you slowly lifted up your head from his chest "you're mine right" he asked again, his hand coming to rest on your collarbone, awaiting your response.

"course I am"

"of course you are"

[friedbaekhyunandeggso]

found you

pairing: gojo satoru x female oc (ara natsuna) [p.s. i tried to keep her features ambiguous asf. i just suck at writing 1st/2nd person, the only features i mentioned r big titties & like a shorter height but PLS envision whoever u want]

tropes: psycho! rival! athlete! yandere! gojo x introvert! booksmart! oc (this part of the one-shot takes place in high school but if the ppl want more i have ideas for a mid/late twenties time-jump - update: i've decided to make a miniseries of this now but this part/chapter can be read as a standalone)

warnings: 18+ only babes, profanity, mentions of parental abuse (verbal & physical), stalking/possessive themes, mentions of alcohol & drugs (m0lly, w33d), hypothermia (LOL jus read & find out), drug overdose, pet-names (princess, kitten), dub/non-consented sex, choking (if u squint), nipple play, begging, spitting (f receiving), dry humping, virginity loss, sadism, rough sex, creampie (pls don't b silly & cover ur willy irl)

word count/plot: [18.4k!] ara catches gojo's attention when news breaks that she is the top academically ranked student in their grade. he is ranked second. he tries to befriend her but she ignores him. despite her obvious disinterest, his obsession begins...

a/n: first time posting something like this in a while. gojo is a huge red-flag, but jus a gentle reminder to y'all to never let no man treat u like this irl pUHLeASE ! ik i wrote this but i hate romanticizing psycho behavior (i hate & love it-its jus oddly fun 2 write)

I never wanted his attention.

In fact, I never wanted anybody’s attention.

Mrs. Finch stood at the front of the classroom. Most of the students were busy-lost in their own conversations as she cleared her throat multiple times before finally losing it when she slammed her hand down on the table before her.

The room went silent.

“There we go.” she said, with a lopsided smile-though the annoyance was clear in her gaze.

“Sorry, Mrs. Finch, didn’t mean to ruffle up your feathers.” Gojo’s smooth voice lilted from the center of the classroom.

The classroom broke out in laughter. It felt almost exaggerated to Ara’s ears, who merely continued to stare straight at Mrs. Finch through half-lidded eyes. Nothing about Gojo Satoru was amusing to her but ever since he moved to our town freshman year of high school, he’s owned the students’ attention ever since. His popularity only grew by leaps and bounds over the years.

Maybe it was his looks, his name, his athletic skill–she didn’t want to know or care. There were enough rich, insolent snobs at this academy so he fit right in.

“Satoru, as much as I love your bird jokes,” Mrs. Finch’s voice dripped with sarcasm, “The time to stop your chirping is now.”

Gojo merely chuckled into his hand.

She held up a piece of paper, “Alright, as your homeroom teacher I am expected to share this with you all. As you are all aware, you are seniors. Next year, most of you will be happily hopping off to whichever college or university you applied to–hopefully somewhere far, far away,” -her eyes lingering on Gojo, who merely smiled brightly in return- “But as your high school careers almost come to an end, there is one more thing I know many students are curious to know about. Your rank.”

“Obviously, since this is the beginning of the school year there is a chance that this rank could change but here is the academic ranking of your graduating class as of today. I’m only going to be reading off twenty students' names on this list because the top twenty students are the only ones who will be specially commemorated on graduation day. As well as the valedictorian and salutatorian–who will also be allowed to say speeches. If you are not on this list and would like to know your rank, please speak to me after.”

She cleared her throat, “Alright, first in rank is–”

Gojo leaned back in his seat, a subtle smirk gracing his lips as he awaited his name.

“Ara Natsuna.”

Suddenly, everyone’s head faced her and she wished she didn’t exist. She stared down at her hands on the desk-countenance neutral-but if anyone was looking closely they would notice that her shoulders were incredibly tense; her elbows were almost digging into the desk from nerves.

A few claps arose, along with a few murmurs before Mrs. Finch continued.

“Second in ranking, Satoru Gojo.”

The classroom erupted in cheer. His best friend, Geto-who was seated right behind him-leaned forward in his seat to playfully tousle Gojo’s platinum hair. But Gojo barely responded, only offering his fellow fans a half-hearted smile while nonchalantly crossing his arms.

As Mrs. Finch continued to list off names, this growing uneasiness nagged at her. She didn’t understand–of course, she was expecting a high rank. Maybe first rank was a bit of a surprise but she knew she’d earned it.

So what is this feeling?

She hadn’t made eye contact with anyone ever since her name was announced, still continuing to diligently stare at her linked hands on the desk as if they were the most interesting thing in the world.

But she raised her head to find the source of this sixth sense bugging at her.

Her eyes were met with his crystalline, cerulean blue eyes–staring at her with absolutely no emotion. It was the most serious she had ever seen him. Something about his stare was so intense, she just froze.

If it was possible for eyes to swallow someone up, she was sure she would’ve disintegrated there and then.

Her brows furrowed quizzically before she quickly looked away. She swallowed hard, shaking her head imperceptibly–in attempt to ignore her buzzing nerves.

That was the first time he looked at me.

I wish it was the last.

She closed her locker room door and there he was, leaning against the locker beside her own as if he owned it. She nearly jumped.

He smiled. She wasn’t unfamiliar with his dazzling smile. It was pasted all over the schools’ walls, newspaper and television. She didn’t need to see it all up close but… she’d be lying if she said it wasn’t more handsome in person.

“Hi Ara.”

He was quite bold for using her first name already.

But it was back–that buzzing sensation that whispered along her skin when she’d first locked eyes with him. Now that he was close and peering at her again-with what she couldn’t help but identify as false geniality-she immediately identified what the rapidly growing knot in her stomach was telling her.

It was a sense of foreboding.

Obviously, he was trouble. Anyone with brain cells would know that. He was the kind of trouble that easily drew in girls and only made the guys want to join in on his fun.

But that wasn’t what her instincts were telling her. Her instincts were telling her to stay far, far away from him. That he wasn’t just coming to her for some fun, lighthearted conversation–or whatever he was trying to come across as.

He was here for something else.

And if there was one thing Ara trusted, it was her gut feeling.

Besides, she couldn’t imagine anything useful actually coming out of his glossy lips anyway.

He raised a white eyebrow, his smile only widening as she stared.

Just as he opened his mouth, she bent down and lifted her backpack–hastily throwing it over her shoulder before turning around. She headed towards the school exit, she couldn’t miss her bus.

“What-!” his astonished voice echoed in the empty hallway, “Is it because I called you by your first name?”

She didn’t bother turning around, only sending him a glance when she’d turned into another hall. It seems his friends had caught up to him–or maybe they’d been nearby. Maybe him talking to her was a set-up, she couldn’t know.

His friends didn’t act like it’d been a set up though, they didn’t even look at her. Like everyone else.

Despite his friends being engaged in quite the boisterous conversation, his eyes were locked on her. His smile nowhere to be seen.

I should’ve switched schools then.

She yawned before closing her locker door and nearly going into cardiac arrest when she saw him leaning on the locker next hers again.

His white hair was left ruffled-as usual-and the crisp blue blazer that was the school’s boy uniform suited him a lot more than 99% of the school’s male population.

He smiled, “Good Morning, Natsuna.” he greeted.

She glanced around the hall to see that there were only a few people down the end of the hallway. Most had gone into their homerooms already–although it was technically a little early. There were still five minutes until all the students were required to be in homeroom.

He let out an amused chuckle, “Are you embarrassed to be seen with me?” he asked, disbelief coating his tone.

She shot him a look before readjusting her backpack strap over shoulder. She was surprised he was still bothering with her.

She turned around and headed towards their homeroom. He followed her.

“Why won’t you talk to me? I haven’t even done anything to you–have I?” he asked, genuinely curious.

Suddenly she stopped before their homeroom door. His tall frame nearly bumped into her.

“What’re you stopping for?” he asked.

She turned around and her eyes widened as she looked up at him. She’d already known he was tall but up close, it was even more obvious. At 5’3, he stood at a considerable height before her–being a foot taller.

He tilted his head, his blazing blue eyes curious as he searched her face.

He raised his hand and right before he could make contact, she quickly jumped back–the door behind her suddenly swinging open and Geto stepped out. She scurried out of his way.

“Satoru, there you are. Get in here.” Geto reached out and grabbed Gojo’s arm, pulling him into homeroom.

Gojo glanced back at her, “Wait–”

“What were you doin’ standing out there by yourself..” Geto’s voice trailed off when the homeroom door shut behind them.

She sighed in relief. There was no way she was going to walk into homeroom with Gojo. She was sure to be barraged with questions or–more likely, get weird looks from the other girls. She didn’t need that attention.

She stepped out of her last class a little later than usual. She had stopped to ask the teacher a question but then had gotten wrapped into a full blown conversation instead. It was one of those elderly teachers that students rarely talked to so she felt bad attempting to cut the conversation short.

But she had to make sure she didn’t miss the bus.

Just as she stepped out of the classroom, Gojo stood outside her class.

How the hel–

“Hi, Natsuna.” he greeted, energetically. His folded arms dropping as she walked right past him.

He followed behind her.

“I found out a lot about you today.”

She glanced around at the handful of students in the hall. A few glanced their way, giving curious looks. A student from the basketball team yelled out Gojo’s name in greeting.

“Yo!” Gojo responded, quickly dapping him up before catching up to her once more.

She continued to religiously ignore him as she walked.

“Don’t you want to hear what I found out?” he pressed before easily walking in stride with her–despite her fast walking.

When she didn’t respond, he continued. “Your birthday is in November—a month before mine. You like the color purple–pastel purple, specifically. Good taste, by the way. I look great in that color–”

She hastily put in her locker code before swinging it open. He was still going on as he leaned against the locker beside hers.

“You’ve lived in this town since forever. You don’t do any extracurriculars. You have one friend, Millie, who’s surprisingly talkative—”

She slammed her locker door shut.

He raised a brow, “Oo, feisty.”

She glanced at him-scowl on her lips until her eyes widened–Fuck, I’m gonna be late for the bus.

She suddenly turned on her heel and ran.

“Wait–”

But she was too far down the hall by the time he called out. Wasn’t like she was going to listen to him anyway.

He sighed before waving his hand and speaking-in a rather cherry voice, “I’ll tell what more I learned tomorrow!”

Is he serious? Can he not take a hint?

She was too annoyed by her tardiness to care much until she ran outside to see the buses leaving one by one. Her heart dropped.

No, no, no.

Her eyes widened as she saw her bus was one of the first in the line up to leave. Her heart dropped to stomach.

No, no, no.

But it was too late. Looks like there was no other choice…

Her hand was shaky as she reached into her pocket to take out her phone. She whispered a quick prayer before holding the phone to her ear. He picked up on the second ring.

“Hey, Baba..”

It was just as she expected.

“Home, School, Home, School. It’s such a simple fucking routine–why don’t you get it by now? Just get on the damn bus on time!”

He slammed the door shut behind himself. She sobbed as she crawled into a ball on her bed.

“Can’t do anything fucking right!” His yelling audible through the door.

She continued to cry on the bed. Her stomach hurt from where her father had kicked her. Her cheek pounding from his slap. This was why she hated asking for favors. Her Dad never took it well. She was always a nuisance.

Always.

And yet he expected nothing but perfection from her. Getting an A- on an assignment would most likely result in the same.

Can’t do anything fucking right.

His harsh words echoed in her mind. It seemed nothing she did ever made him happy. She’d wanted to tell him that she was ranked first in her grade but the moment she stepped into his car the atmosphere was suffocating. She knew it was gonna be, but she thought… she thought maybe she could dampen the mood by telling him.

But, boy, had she been wrong. The verbal abuse started the second she stepped into the car.

Then the physical abuse when they reached home.

Now he was off back to work–probably going to be back in the evening. Her Mom was still out of the country; visiting her lovely, accolade-ridden family that she tried so hard to impress despite being a housewife.

It wouldn’t have even made a difference had she been here. She took his abuse all the same–turning a blind eye whenever he did the same to her.

Divorce is not an option. Her Mom would constantly say, back in the day when Ara used to beg on her knees for her to leave him.

Her body shook as she sobbed. She grabbed the pillow and screamed into it, until her throat was dry and scratchy. Til the pain made her numb to emotion.

She entered homeroom early, in attempt to avoid the white haired boy that always seemed to find her at her locker somehow. She wasn’t in the mood to have someone talk at her today–or ever, in fact.

But, to her surprise, Geto was in homeroom too. His dark hair up in his typical smooth yet slightly messy knot, with a few strands hovering over his forehead. His broad shoulders always seemed so pronounced in the school uniform. He sat completely relaxed in his seat, phone in hand.

His dark eyes flickered up to her when she entered.

She swallowed, quickly looking away before heading to her seat. She didn’t need to look to know he was watching her.

She sat in her seat, hastily pulling out one of the paperback books that she was supposed to read for an assignment. She’d already finished reading the assigned chapters but she wanted to get ahead.

As she flipped through the book to find where she left off, Geto’s deep voice suddenly rang out, “Satoru is curious about you.”

She froze, her fingers tightening around the page she was about to flip. She’d spoken to Geto before, he’d been in some of her classes so they’d randomly get paired together sometimes. There wasn’t much between them beyond that.

She glanced over at him, “Tell him to leave me alon–”

The door suddenly swung open and Gojo entered, his hands over his knees as he panted.

“Suguru, have you seen–” his piercing blue eyes suddenly landed on her and then at Geto.

He froze when he realized that he’d heard a feminine voice speaking when he’d entered the room. And since Geto was the only other person here…

A frown graced his features, “So you can talk to him but not to me?” he demanded.

Before she felt required to answer his absurd question, people began to pour into the room–including Mrs. Finch.

“Well, well, well, look who’s early.” she grumbled as she eyed Gojo. Ara couldn’t help but feel as though her and Mrs.Finch were the only two people who viewed Gojo the same–a pest.

For once, he didn’t take the bait and instead sat down in his seat with a huff. A pout on his lips as he crossed his arms.

Ara narrowed her eyes at the sight before dutifully turning back to read her book.

Her thoughts wandered as she questioned what his deal was..

It was subtle at first.

Ara walked out of the cafeteria, her tray of food in hand. She never sat in the cafeteria. She didn’t have any friends so what was the point. Well–Millie didn’t have the same lunch time as her this year and even if she did, it was sometimes easier to eat by herself.

Millie’s friends didn’t talk about things she could relate to anyway. Millie was funner to talk to one on one–but that was just her opinion.

Lost in her thoughts, she didn’t notice when she’d turned the corner in the hall and bumped into someone.

“Shit.” she muttered, as her tray of food fell straight to the floor.

“Oh fuck.. I’m so sorry.”

She looked up to see Austin. He was in her Anatomy class. They hadn’t spoken too much before but… she would be lying if she said she didn’t find him interesting. He was kinda like her, reserved, but maybe a little more sociable. Puberty had also hit him like a truck.

He’d grown much taller and he seemed to be filling out a bit more. His hair had grown out to his shoulders and it looked good, especially with that low man-bun hairstyle he was sporting nowadays.

She’d never gain the courage to tell him that though.

They both bent down to reach for the tray at the same time. Their hands touched.

“Oh.” he muttered, while they both withdrew their hands.

He glanced at her to see that she looked semi-embarrassed. The moment she caught his eye she gave him a small smile.

“Y-you’re fine.” she reassured him–though she wished she had the courage to tell him that she meant that in more than one way.

He blinked, “You sure? I could buy you lunch if you want? I feel bad.”

She shook her head, “Don’t worry about it.”

She glanced down at the mess on the floor, “I’ll just go get the custodian.”

“Wait, no–I’ll do that. It’s the least I can do after wasting your lunch.” he said.

Just as he turned to head off, he suddenly turned back.

“A-are you sure I can’t buy you anything? Seriously,” he fished out a five dollar bill from his pocket, “Please take this and at least get something from the vending machine.”

She raised her hands slightly and shook them, “Don’t worry about it.”

He outstretched his hand with the bill, “Please, just take it. It’ll make me feel like less of an ass.”

She laughed slightly, “You’re not an ass.”

He waved the five dollar bill in his hand once more and she eyed it wearily–before snatching it.

“Fine.”

There was a tinge of shyness in the attractive smile that spread across his lips, “Thanks, Ara.”

She pocketed the five dollar bill with a shake of her head. He was nicer than she thought. After he joined the Basketball team last year she expected him to adopt the typical jock attitude but it seemed he was still himself.

She watched him jog off to find a custodian.

She turned slightly to brush off any crumbs that may have fallen on her uniform but it seemed she was in the clear.

After giving her uniform one last dust off, she glanced up. A frown on her lips. There it was again. That feeling…

That intense nagging feeling in the back of her mind, as if trying to tell her something in a language that she couldn’t understand. She’d felt it before but… Gosh, it was so uncomfortable. Her stomach flip flopped with anxiety as she glanced around for the source–

Her eyes widened when she looked down the end of the hall to see a familiar tall, white-haired boy staring directly at her. He stood as still as a statue.

The nauseous feeling somehow disappeared the second she locked eyes with him.

She blinked before frowning. Ugh, why’d he have to show up?

She turned and headed towards the library, internally praying that the vending machine in the library still worked.

Austin didn’t come to school the next day.

“A-austin?” she said–the following day when he’d come back to class.

He stopped in the midst of packing his books before slowly looking at her. The bell had just rang moments prior, everyone had quickly exited the classroom but them.

His glance was short-almost hesitant-as he froze.

She eyed the bandage wrapped around his hand before asking, “Are you okay? How’d that happen?”

“Broke my hand during basketball practice.” he mumbled while packing his bag at a rather unwarranted pace.

“Oh–well, um, I hope you get better.”

“Thanks.” he said, curtly, before throwing his backpack over one shoulder and fast-walking out of the classroom.

He never spoke to me again.

Just as she adjusted her backpack straps over her shoulders, a white flower was suddenly placed in the open locker before her.

Her eyes widened before she looked over to see Gojo beside her.

His white hair appeared damp, as if he’d just showered. His indigo blue blazer folded haphazardly over his shoulder while the top few buttons of his dress-shirt were left unbuttoned. His proximity didn’t leave her much choice but to inhale his magnetic cologne.

“White hibiscus flowers, your favorite right?”

She glanced back at the single white flower that now rested atop her books in her locker. It was still attached to its stem. It was her favorite–specifically ones with red in the middle, which was exactly the kind he brought.

She liked the look of the red center against the white because it reminded her how the heart was the center of the soul; how emotions make one’s body impure–so it bleeds through its core to the rest of the flower.

At her dumbfounded expression, he smiled.

“I’ve been learning. Millie’s been telling me all about you.”

Ara’s jaw locked.

His hands slipped into his pockets, “Your favorite classes are physics and art. Your favorite teacher is Mrs. Lindsor—I don’t know how,” his nose scrunched disapprovingly, “You like cats. You’ve never been in a relationship before. You’re parents are kinda strict—“

Suddenly he was shoved into the lockers. Her hands gripping his collar as she stared at him with a stern expression.

Her face twisted with agitation as she spat, “Stop talking to my friend about me.”

His eyes widened as he held his hands up, “She speaks.”

Her expression became more enraged as the corner of his lip curled into an attractive grin. Her hands clenched into fists at his collar.

He tilted his head, “Oh? You want to hit me?”

His tongue deftly ran over his bottom lip, “Go ahead.”

When she didn’t move, he only egged her on further, “C’mon, hit me. Do whatever you want.”

A flicker of confusion flashed along her face. As much as she was tempted to… she didn’t trust him. Not one bit.

Why does he want me to? Her grip on his shirt loosened in hesitance.

Suddenly something malicious flashed within his eccentric eyes and before she knew it, he was cupping her face in his hands–forcing her to keep her eyes on him.

“Do whatever you want so I can do whatever I want.”

His words melted like butter on her skin–but if butter was warm, why did she feel so cold? Why did goosebumps arise on her skin?

Her insides churned as she tore herself away from him.

“Stop doing this bullshit. It’s not cute, a-and leave my friend out of this.”

She hated how he looked at her like that–as if she were the most amusing thing he’d ever laid eyes on, “I wouldn’t have to talk to her if you talked to me, you know.”

She squinted, “Are you okay? Seriously-what are you getting out of this?”

“You.” he said simply, as if that were the most logical answer, “I want you.”

Her eyes narrowed further–this had to be some kind of joke. “You’re not funny.” she murmured.

He bent over slightly as he laughed. His laugh was airy and boyish–the kind of laugh that one could easily be drawn to, if she hadn’t found something heavily off about it.

“I’m not joking, Ara.”

He stood up straight after picking his fallen blazer off of the floor. When she’d shoved him, it had slipped from its haphazard placement over his shoulder.

He looked down at her, his blue eyes incredibly mystifying as he hunched before her to look her eye to eye–his index finger holding the collar of his blazer over his shoulder while his other hand was wedged in his pocket.

“Ara.. I can call you that now, right? Now that we’re talkin’ “

She stumbled backward, “We’re not talking. Just leave me alone.”

He smirked, “You’ll come around.”

The confidence oozing from his tone would’ve infuriated her, if it didn’t make her feel unsettled to the bone.

She didn’t understand. Where was that likable, comedic Gojo that everyone else saw? Why was this version of him the one she had to meet? Even if she told anyone about this–no one, literally no one–would believe her.

It wasn’t like she had any friends to tell anyway. Well–Millie maybe but Millie herself was now talking to him.

She struggled to find her words, “I- I said, leave me alone.”

He leaned back, taking his hand out of his pocket to loosen his tie as he sighed, “Why are you makin’ this so hard for me.”

She ignored him, stepping around him to close her locker door shut but he stuck his arm out–firmly holding the locker door open by its top edge.

“Fine.” he looked down at her, his blue eyes blazing with mischief as she appeared startled.

He was so close to her, it was hard to breathe.

His voice dropped an octave lower as he added, “But I expect something in return.”

His eyes dropped to her neck when he saw her visibly swallow. The playfulness in his demeanor shifted into something more dominating.

He raised a brow as she stepped back.

“Don’t.”

“Why not?”

“There’s nothing for me to give you.”

He smirked, closing her locker door for her, “Lies.”

She’d missed her bus again. It was an accident–truly, a fucking accident. It wasn’t her fault that her art teacher wanted her to stay after to talk to her about future art-related career paths when they merely were supposed to chat about her recent artwork.

She writhed in pain on her bed, clutching her gut. It felt bruised from the amount of times her Father had kicked her.

It’s not fair, it’s not fair, it’s not fair.

She was always her father’s punching bag. Every, damn, time.

She was so sick and tired of it. So angry. She did everything right, everything. But one mistake–one simple fucking mistake–would get him so incredibly triggered. It gave her whiplash everytime.

She was finally at her breaking point. She was done. She was done wallowing in this pitiful fucking mess of her toxic-ass family. Done watching her Mom let her Dad treat them both like pieces of garbage. Tired of nothing changing. She was done.

She just wanted to do something she wanted. Just this once.

She’d talked to Millie on the bus this morning–the only time they ever seemed to talk nowadays but she had mentioned something going on tonight. It was Friday so, there had to be something.

Ara cringed as she reached over to grab her phone from her nightstand. She texted Millie.

A: hey can i come over?

M: r u kidding

M: hell yes, are u even allowed to tho?

A: im gonna sneak out

M: omg no way

M: im like hella shocked rn but hold on, imma use my bros car to pick u up

A: wait don’t stop in front of my house

A: i’m gonna wait at the end of the block

M: bet

A: thanks, lmk when ur here

M: omg im excited, does this mean your coming out tn?

A: yep

M: STOP im hype

M: ok, im omw

Ara put the phone down and sat up. She stared at her wrecked room in silence. It hadn’t been messy until her father had dragged her by the hair into her room from the car. He liked to dramatically throw her shit across the room in the midst of his rages.

She’d gotten used to cleaning his messes, but not tonight.

She grabbed her wallet, phone and keys–stuffing them all into her sweatpants pocket before chewing at her bottom lip diligently as she thought.

The front and back door wasn’t an option, her father had cameras. She’d been contemplating the garage but the longer she thought about it the more hesitant she grew. What if my Dad hears it open? She couldn’t risk it.

She glanced at her window. It looked like that would be her best bet.

She swallowed hard-forcing her nerves down-as she went to the window and shoved it open. She physically winced at the strength that simple action had taken her.

She gave her room one last look before hopping out of the window.

Milie ran the straightener over her hair, “I still can’t believe your here-like what the actual fuck.”

Ara laughed, she was already drunk out of her mind. She’d drunk a couple White Claws and that seemed to be all it took–it was her first time drinking after all.

Millie’s eyes caught Ara’s laugh in the mirror before them. Mille set the straightener down before running her hands through Ara’s hair–smoothing it out further.

“You should smile more often. Your smile’s really pretty.”

Ara set down her white claw before wobblily standing up, “Yeah, yeah. So who’s place are we going tonight?”

Millie smirked, “Nanami’s. His house parties are the fucking best so you picked the best night to sneak out. Nina and her man are gonna pick us up and then we all are gonna go.”

“Nanami Kento?” Ara questioned, “He likes to party?”

“Shoko probably convinced him cuz his house has a heated outdoor pool.”

Ara shrugged, bending over to pick up her White claw again and take another sip. Millie sat at the vanity now, leaning close to the mirror as she applied her lip gloss.

She smacked her lips together, “So.. are you planning on getting your first kiss tonight?”

Ara tilted her head back and finished her canned drink in one gulp. She set the drink down with a giggle.

“Maybe,” she said, before locking eyes with Millie through the mirror and they both laughed.

Millie swiveled around in her stool, “About time, girl! What’re you gonna do if some guy wants to go further?”

She shrugged, “I’m down. Honestly, I’m down to lose my virginity tonight for all I care, I just wanna have fun.”

Millie laughed, “Look at you today! I’m-like-shocked. Are you sure you're Ara? Or did you get possessed?”

“I didn’t do my Physics homework yet.” she mumbled distractedly to herself.

Mille chuckled, now applying extra powder to her face, “Girl, it’s Friday. You have the whole weekend. But please make sure you do it and send it to me cuz there’s no way I’m gonna do it.”

They stood on the porch of Nanami’s mansion. Voices and music could be heard blasting within the house from outside. Ara’s gaze was stuck on the perfect landscaping done on Nanami’s front yard. Her eyes lingering on the white hibiscus flower bushes that were planted outside his house.

They looked so pretty under the moonlight.

Millie gently touched Ara’s arm, catching her attention.

Mille grinned before squealing, “I’m so excited for you to experience your first party.”

Roland snorted, “No one’s gonna know that it’s you.”

His dark eyes looked her up and down, “Honestly, I still don’t believe it.”

Nina placed her hand on her boyfriend's chest. Her and Roland had been dating for two years now. He’d driven them all here–and as much as she was grateful for the ride, she didn’t appreciate his leering gaze at her body, especially with Nina right in front of him.

Nina remained oblivious, “Listen, Straight A students need to have some fun too. No one stays boring forever.”

Sober Ara might’ve had different words to say but intoxicated Ara merely laughed, “Sure, exactly that.”

Roland continued to glance at her curiously until the door swung open.

Toji stood in the doorway, “Hey, kids. Sorry to keep you waitin’ “

Toji was older than them by a few years–only because he refused to graduate for some reason. Either he was too dumb or just didn’t care. If there was one thing everyone knew he was good at-it was pulling women-it was football. He was captain of the football team for a reason.

He dapped Roland up as he let him and Nina enter. Roland was also on the football team.

“Who’re you?” he suddenly asked as Ara stepped forward.

His narrow green eyes looked her up and down–even if he was expressionless it felt as though he were eating her up with his eyes.

She knew she looked good–even if none of the clothes were hers. Millie had completely transformed her look with just a few simple pieces.

She wore a light blue, lace-y tube top that showcased quite a bit of her bare hips and navel. The fitted top also outlined the shape of her rather full breasts, which she’d typically kept hidden underneath the blazer of her uniform. She knew what attention they would draw on her smaller frame so she never wore her uniform without the blazer.

Then for bottoms she wore a simple tight black mini-skirt that revealed her smooth legs. Thank god Millie had extra razors so she’d shaved at her house. And for shoes, she wore her typical black Converses–unfortunately Millie and her weren’t the same shoe size. (a/n: i swear i didn't do this to make her basic. she ends up having to walk home so i jus didn't want my girl to suffer :,) & yES ik she's not real but idc idc)

Millie took her hand, “It’s Ara Natsuna, dumbass.”

She saw Toji’s brows draw together in confusion before his eyes widened, “You’re shitting me. Quiet girl?”

Before she had the chance to respond, Millie was suddenly pulling her inside.

Millie spoke as she dragged her through the mass of people, “He was totally gonna try chat you up–”

Millie suddenly stopped, “Wait, did you want him to?”

Ara shook her head. Don’t get her wrong, Toji was attractive as hell, but she’d rather not start her party debut with someone that passed around.

Though, that might just be how she felt right now. Who knows where the night will take her?

Suddenly a few of Millie’s friends called out her name and they both were thrown into a mass of greeting people. People were incredibly astonished to see her–continuously making stupid comments asking if she’d decided to leave the books behind. Joke or not, it was incredibly shallow.

They acted like being hot and smart wasn’t possible at the same time. It was annoying–but she was too drunk to care.

Millie suddenly ran off and Ara stumbled slightly as she went after her–but then froze in her steps.

Millie had run to Gojo, who was sitting on a couch's armrest. His long limbs easily held him up as he reached over to return Millie’s side hug.

“Millie Mills.” he greeted in a light, singsong tone.

He wore a simple black tee shirt with matching pants. Despite the simpleness of the outfit, his shirt fit just right on his lean frame–tightening around his muscular waist and shoulders when he raised his hand to pat Mille’s head.

Her throat went dry.

Millie and her had already talked about Gojo. She tried to tell her to not talk to him and Millie seemed to half heartedly agree–using lame excuses like he’s fun to talk to or that he’s hot. She didn’t know how to tell her that Gojo talking to her out of the blue wasn’t a coincidence–even if he possibly did like her as a friend or whatnot now, he was not to be trusted.

Millie said she didn't like like him but the way she was pressing her chest against him displayed otherwise.

Millie had tried to tell her to give him a chance–eagerly telling her on their bus rides that Gojo kept asking about her but Ara refused. She didn’t want to hear one-fucking-second of it. She didn’t care if Gojo never asked about a girl before. She didn’t care if Gojo mostly fucked cheerleaders. She didn’t care if he hadn’t been in a relationship in the past four years since he moved here.

He was weird, annoying and obnoxious—and that was that.

The vibe she got off of him was nowhere near safe either. She honestly didn’t even know how Millie felt comfortable hugging him.

Millie went on her tiptoes to whisper something in his ear and he bent his head lower to make it easier for her.

I found out what she whispered in his ear later...

Suddenly his head snapped up and their eyes locked.

Despite being a distance away, the ominous feeling within her gut still arose the moment his intricate crystal-like eyes met hers. She had no choice but to freeze under his gaze when he gave her body a slow perusal.

If Toji had been eating her up with his eyes before, Gojo’s eyes were devouring her–his attentive gaze ravaging each piece of her unveiled body with such greed, she couldn’t take it. She felt like she was standing naked under his gaze. There was something so vile and unhinged about the dark look that had slipped across his face; she suddenly felt like she shouldn’t have come here.

His expression hadn’t even changed much, his jaw simply clenching and his hand on Millie’s head suddenly slid down to the back of her neck.

Millie jumped slightly when Gojo’s hand tightened around her nape.

His eyes never left Ara’s as he spoke, “I thought you were lying–tellin’ me what I wanted to hear.”

Millie glanced at him, a bit nervous at the new terseness of his tone, “W-why would I do that?” she said, with a slightly timid, childish laugh.

“I’m not a liar.” Millie added, playfully, before placing a hand on Gojo’s thigh to steady herself.

That was all Ara needed to see to know that Millie still hadn’t cut off contact with him. Her insides twisted with disgust. She’d known that the other girl hadn’t fully agreed to stop talking to him but–Christ, it just looked so low.

Knowing that he was interested in her ‘friend’ and that her ‘friend’ found him creepy and still getting all close to him? What was even the point?

Ara stepped back-keeping the emotions hidden from her face as she subtly waved at Millie–signaling that she was gonna go elsewhere. She hadn’t talked to Gojo in a week and she didn’t plan on changing that now. Millie gave her a thumbs up.

Gojo’s eyes followed her before she disappeared somewhere into the kitchen.

Suddenly, someone nudged his knee.

Gojo turned his head to see Geto looking at him curiously. Geto sat, fully relaxed, in the exorbitant couch that he was sitting on the armrest of.

“What is it?” Geto asked while withdrawing the joint from his mouth.

“She’s here.” Millie responded, her attempt at including herself in the group of lethally attractive men before her.

“Who’s she?” Nanami asked-dryly-from the loveseat beside the couch that Geto and Gojo occupied. He didn’t look up from his phone.

Before Geto could respond, Gojo was suddenly questioning Millie, “You convinced her to come here?” The seriousness in his tone made the other boys go quiet.

Nanami glanced up from his phone.

Millie shook her head, “No, she wanted to come herself.”

“Thought you said her parents were strict.”

She shrugged, “Dunno. She snuck out.”

Gojo released her neck, a look of contemplation passing over his features as he rubbed his chin, “Somethings up.”

“Isn’t there always.” Millie mused, while playing with his fingers.

He raised the hand Millie was fiddling with to her face, his long fingers easily covering its entirety as he pushed her face back.

“Satoru! My lip gloss.” she exclaimed as he stood up. He gave her a wink before disappearing off into the throng of people.

She sat down on the armrest Gojo had just left from with a huff.

Geto didn’t spare her a glance. Instead, he indirectly addressed Nanami by saying, “He’s mad.”

“Satoru?” Nanami questioned, glancing up from his phone again.

Geto nodded.

“How do you know?” Nanami asked, “He looked normal to me.”’

Geto shrugged–not knowing how to expand on it because he wasn’t sure how he himself knew, but he was more than sure of it.

Toji arrived with three beers in his hands. He popped a cap open with his teeth before throwing himself back on the loveseat beside Nanami.

“Jus saw the sexiest chick I’ve seen in a while.. Her tits were-phew.” Toji shook his head before taking a swig.

“If you're talking about Ara, leave her alone.” Millie bit back.

“Oh? That a challenge?” He smirked at Millie. They’d fucked once–okay, maybe more than once—but, like every girl who tried, she couldn’t tie him down.

“Don’t even try it.” Geto warned.

If this was how parties were like, she never wanted it to end.

Loud music pounded through the pristine, wide-ceiling walls of Nanami’s house. The strong scent of weed, alcohol and a plethora of expensive colognes and perfume in the air. Voices—so much chatter, laughter and familiar faces. Everyone seemed so chill and.. happy.

She handed the joint back to the guy beside her with a loud cough—more coughing followed as she continued to breathe.

“Shit, is this your first time?” he asked, a hint of a smile on his lips.

She turned her head back to see Noel. She’d always seen him around school but they barely interacted—he wasn’t in the same classes as her. Besides, he hung with a completely different crowd. He was on the swim team. And, gosh, he was hot.

She didn’t know how she managed to grab his attention when she’d merely been walking around the outdoor pool. He was sitting in one of the surrounding lounge chairs and asked if she wanted to ‘cyph’.

She’d agreed—despite having no clue what that meant. It didn’t take her long to realize that it was just another term for smoking w33d. (a/n: idk if tumblr censors words or not so imma jus keep spelling it like that. y'all know what i mean anyway~)

They now sat shoulder to shoulder on the lounge chair. He was laughing beside her.

She frowned once her coughing subsided, “Are you laughing at me?”

He shook his head, pieces of his dark brown hair falling over his forehead in the process.

“Nah, I should’ve figured. I never seen you at one of these parties before.”

She wasn’t sure if it was drugs or alcohol in her system but god, the subtle grin on his lips was so hot. He had one of those smiles that made it hard to look away from his lips.

No wonder Millie hooked up with him sophomore year.

Something about that thought made her pry her eyes away.

His hand came up to her back, “You want another hit?”

She glanced back at him, shaking her head, “I need a minute. My throat feels so..” she didn’t know how to describe it.

He laughed once more, running his hand down her back reassuringly.

“I know. My first time smoking was like that too. I was coughing like a bitch.”

He then asked her, “Do you want a drink?”

“Millie said not to drink the stuff here.”

His subtle grin returned, “She’s probably right… is that who you came with? Millie?”

She nodded.

“How do you know her?”

“I met her on the bus.” They’d always sat next to each other since kindergarten.

“That’s cool.” he dropped his hand from her back, and offered her his joint, “You wanna hold onto this for me while I go get us some drinks?”

She took it from his hand with a nod.

As he stood up he noticed the look of disappointment on her face. Though, he didn’t know the reasoning behind it. She was still thinking about Millie—her one and only friend, who never took her word seriously.

“Aw, don’t look like that,” he bent down to give her a light kiss on the cheek.

He ruffled the top of her hair, “I’ll be right back.”

She offered him a small smile before watching him walk off.

The front door slammed shut—loud enough to be heard over the music. Everyone in the mansion paused for a second as people began to glance around and murmur.

Nanami jumped up from the loveseat, “The hell was that?”

Geto and Toji stood up as well.

Gojo suddenly appeared before them. His white hair more disheveled than usual as he smoothed down his black shirt. There was a hint of a bruise forming on his cheekbone.

Geto stepped towards him, “What happened?” he demanded.

“Oh, I just kicked Noel out.” his tone oddly light.

He shrugged before looking at Nanami, “I caught him tryna steal somethin’ in your Mommy’s room.”

“Noel?” Nanami questioned. “He wouldn’t do that.”

Nanami was captain of the swim team. He’d spent a considerable amount of time with Noel, who was on his team.

Something in Gojo’s eyes shifted as he stared at Nanami—the lightheartedness in his tone moments prior gone, “Are you doubting me?”

Toji’s eyes widened before he took another swig of beer.

Nanami’s brows furrowed until Gojo suddenly threw his head back in laughter. 

He placed a hand on Nanami’s shoulder, giving it a good squeeze before leaning close. Geto’s eyes lingered on the red marks along Gojo’s knuckles.

“Don’t worry, Nanamiiin, I took care of it,” he tilted his head, “You can scold him all you want whenever you see him at practice.”

He released Nanami’s shoulder with a bright smirk on his lips.

Nanami eyed him, “Just don’t slam my door.”

Gojo held his hands up-as if he were instructed to do so by the police-before walking backwards haphazardly.

He wriggled his fingers playfully, “No promises.”

Ara watched the girls play in the pool with a bored expression. They looked like they were having so much fun.

What’s taking him so long?

She looked down at the joint in her hand. She’d taken a couple hits–even if it made her cough quite a bit, but she couldn’t help but wonder where Noel had gone. He should’ve been here by now.

She picked up his joint and lighter with a frown before walking around the pool to head back inside the house. Her drunk self too unaware of her surroundings to notice the many lingering eyes on her as she passed.

She entered the mansion, heading to the kitchen to see if Noel was there.

Her eyes scanned the spacious kitchen in awe. It had to be the biggest kitchen she’d ever seen. Whoever designed it’s interior managed to merge a modern yet home-y feel perfectly. Its red, cream and dark brown color scheme also gave a sort of regal appeal.

She stumbled over to the nearest canvas hung on the wall. It was huge. It showcased a beautiful view of vast hills and a sunset colored sky. Her fingers gently ran over the painting, only for her eyes to widen when she realized it was actually hand-painted, not printed. Her eyes widening further when she saw an elegant black signature at the painting's bottom right corner.

Who knows how much this thing costs.

“Natsuna? No way.”

She turned her head to see Jaemin. He wore a black wife beater, showing off the small tattoos that marked his tan collarbones and toned arms. They never spoke before but she’d be lying if she said his wolf-cut didn’t suit him.

She raised a brow, “You know my name?”

He laughed, “Of course. We’ve been going to the same school since forever.”

She turned around fully, letting her back lean against the wall as she absentmindedly played with a strand of her hair.

“I guess.. I look hot enough for you to speak to me now.” she stated, dryly-the words slipping off her tongue without a second thought. Alcohol was truly something else.

He chuckled as he drew closer, “Pft, you were always hot. I liked your little quiet, mysterious girl look.”

A laugh escaped her lips as she repeated, “Quiet, mysterious girl look?”

She placed her hand on his chest when he stood directly in front of her. He bent his head low to touch her forehead with his. Whatever his cologne was-it was entirely too addicting.

He raised his hand with a red solo cup to her cheek. His knuckles skimming the side of her face as he spoke, “You always look like you wanna be left alone or else I woulda bothered you a long time ago.”

She smirked wryly. “Sure.”

He returned her smirk with one of his own, “Let me prove it–”

Suddenly his phone buzzed, and he froze. He held her gaze a second longer before glancing down between them, at the phone in his hand.

He shook his head subtly, “Gotta get more drinks.”

He patted her hip, “Stay right here.”

She nodded.

He gave her a little smirk before walking off.

“Damn Gojo, don’t you got your lil lackeys around for this?” Jaemin grumbled to himself.

He didn’t mind Gojo at all—in fact, he actually kinda liked the guy-but it wasn’t like they were tight or anything. The only reason why he decided to ‘listen’ was because Gojo never asked him for a favor before. He figured it was a once in a blue moon typa thing. Hell, could’ve even been a drunk text. He didn’t care, he just wanted to see Nanami’s family’s wine cellar.

He walked downstairs, glancing around at the movie theater room before him.

“Fuck, what damn part of the basement am I at now.”

He walked further into the room, past the large screen, towards the drinks bar. He leaned on the counter to glance around, only to spot empty champagne flutes instead of bottles.

He frowned before spotting the open double door beside the mini bar.

He pushed himself off the counter and walked into the wide wine cellar. He whistled.

He walked up to one of the bottles and easily plucked one out.

“Holy shit, 18 year old Scotch?” he gaped, “Shit probably tastes like ass.”

He carefully placed it back.

“Too bad Gojo wants beer.” he muttered, though he wasn’t really complaining.

But where the hell is the be—Oh.

He spotted the mini circular, blue, window that was stuck into a door in the wall. How could he forget? Nanami’s infamous walk-in freezer.

He pulled open the door and walked inside.

Goosebumps immediately rose on his skin the second he stepped within. It was neatly arranged and brightly lit. He walked further inside and spotted the untouched stack of canned beer on the shelf.

“Bless.” he muttered before reaching out to grab a couple.

Just as he juggled a few cans in his hands, the freezer door slammed shut.

His head snapped around, eyes widening before he dropped all the cans in his hands and ran to the door. He tried the handle before slamming his hands onto the door.

“YO! Hello?! Open this shit up!” he hollered, while glancing through the mini window. He saw no one.

At first he’d thought it was a stupid prank from one of his boys who might’ve followed him into the basement but… there was no one.

“HELLO?!!” he yelled once more, looking through the window with more intensity.

He didn’t understand how the door could’ve closed if someone didn’t pull it shut—he assumed it may have been an auto-lock timer on the door or something.

He broke out in a cold sweat when he realized no one could hear him. Not over the loud ass music.

His hand went to pocket to check for his phone. Maybe he could call—

“Fuck!” he hollered as he harshly patted his empty pockets.

He’d set his phone down on one of the shelves in the wine cellar when he’d grabbed that aged Scotch.

His breathing slowed when realization hit him like a truck. No phone. No one to hear him. No one in the basement.

If he didn’t get help soon, he was gonna freeze.

And it didn’t help that he was wearing a wife beater.

Of course I had to wear a fucking wife beater to-fucking-day.

He clenched his teeth, running his hands quickly over his arms. The cold was starting to settle in, alongside a large dose of panic.

His eyes dilated in fear before he slammed his hands against the freezer doors once more.

“SOMEONE!!! HELP!! GET ME OUT— HELP!!”

In the midst of his panic, a shot of hope suddenly zipped up his spine.

Gojo. That’s right—Gojo!

Gojo had been the one to text him ‘Yo yo, get more beer from the basement will ya¿ tyyy ;)’ so there was a chance Gojo would notice that he was gone. That he didn’t come back with drinks.

Gojo would help him—Gojo would remember him.. right?

Jaemin’s teeth began to chatter.

“Fuck!” he hugged himself once more before throwing his whole body against the freezer door. It didn’t budge.

“HELP!! SOMEONE HELP ME OUTTA HERE!!!”

He grabbed the phone from the shelf.

A smirk graced his lips, “Too easy.”

He was counting on the weak internet connection in Nanami’s wine cellar to-at least-delay Jaemin from contacting others. Or his phone to shut down from the freezer’s low temperature by the time he realized he could call someone. Jaemin wasn’t exactly the brightest guy.

But this. This was so much better.

He chuckled to himself as he walked through the dimly lit theater. Tossing the phone back and forth within his hands as he easily made his way back to the main floor from Nanami’s multi-level basement.

Just as he rejoined the boisterous party, he spotted a large fish tank installed within the wall.

He wandered over, bending over to peer at the various koi fish inside. Several of the multi-colored fish bounded over–their eager mouths opening and closing as they bumped into the glass, expecting food.

“Hey guys, miss me?” he mused.

He tapped the corner of the fish tank with his knuckle three times.

The fish tank slowly retracted from the wall. The fish all swam to the top. Their eager mouths bobbing through the water.

He smirked as he dropped the phone within the fish tank’s clear blue waters.

“Keep this safe for me, will ya?”

Ara stood in the kitchen, growing more irritated by the second.

Where is Jaemin? Or Noel?

She crossed her arms. Did I really get ditched by two guys in the same night?

Despite that possibility, for some reason her gut feeling told her that that wasn’t it.

She sighed, glancing down at her hand. She still had Noel’s joint and lighter. She decided to take another hit.

She coughed—having inhaled a little too fast. The woozy feeling that followed made her obnoxious coughing worth it.

She’d never felt so relaxed before. It was almost too relaxed. Relaxed enough that it almost felt wrong.

Everything was so enhanced it was absolutely riveting. The music. The colors. The voices. Maybe it was a good thing she’d never tried w33d until now—she saw exactly why people could get addicted. Even if the smell wasn’t exactly pleasant.

Just as she raised the joint to her lips again, a new crowd of people entered the kitchen. Rambunctious as ever.

She spotted Arman. She knew he was a close friend of Noel’s. They both were on the swim team.

She impulsively stepped up to him, “Hey-“

Before she could get another word in she was interrupted.

Arman’s eyes widened, “Holy shit—Natsuna?”

She immediately reddened. She resisted the urge to roll her eyes, instead she smiled slightly.

“That’s me.”

He glanced at the joint in her hand, “Wait, you smoke too? Damn, girl. Double agent, for real.”

She was too high to care about his little comments. Quite frankly she’d been hearing it so much tonight it was getting boring.

“I don’t smoke. Today was my first time.”

He raised a brow, “Really?”

He eyed her joint, “Then where’d you get that from?”

“Noel. Do you know where he is?”

Arman’s brows furrowed. He seemed completely lost in thought, as if it was taking him a lot of brain cells to think.

“I don’t know, I think he left.” he finally slurred out.

“He left?” she questioned, surprised.

“Yeah, some dude told me he got kicked out but I don’t know. He didn’t respond to my texts.”

“Kicked out? What did he do?”

He didn’t answer, instead he reached into his cargo pants and shuffled out his phone from his pocket.

He handed her his phone—showing her the screen of the several, horribly misspelled texts that he’d sent Noel. It seemed Noel had left him on delivered.

She sighed, handing the phone back to him.

“Thanks.”

Suddenly a moment of clarity seemed to pass over Arman’s eyes.

He clasped her arm, “Wait, was Noel your ride here?”

She blinked, too drunk to recall, “I.. I don’t know.”

“Shit,” he let go of her arm, “Let me know if you need a ride home.”

She laughed, her unfiltered thoughts slipping off her tongue, “There’s no way I’m sitting in the same car as you.”

“What?” a hint of a dashing smile revealed itself, “Why not?”

“Because do you see yourself? You're drunk as shit.”

He threw his head back, laughing a little too loosely. She couldn’t help but laugh while watching him.

He set his eyes back on her, “And you think you’re not?”

Her brows furrowed, “I think.. I’m sober enough.”

“If you’re sober then we’re all sober.”

She rolled her eyes, “Ha ha.”

Arman threw his arm around her shoulder, “You’re staying with me.”

Arman had introduced her to a few of his friends. It took her a millisecond to forget their names and faces.

His hand was in hers as they walked through the swarm of people. Her legs hurt from how much they’d walked around.

It’d been fun though, exploring the mansion with him and his friends. She almost hoped that she would remember it.

The next thing she knew she was being tugged and suddenly she was on someone’s lap.

She glanced over to see Arman sitting on a loveseat. His deeper, tan skin glowed handsomely underneath the colorful lights. It only emphasized his dashing, perfect-toothed smile. She couldn’t help but compare his smile to a Disney Prince.

She’d rarely seen him around at school. He was a junior but he was undoubtedly attractive. His jet black hair was slightly outgrown in that rugged way, with a few strands hovering over his forehead.

She attempted to move his hair off of his forehead only for it to fall right back in place.

She let out a laugh.

“You’re really pretty.” he blurted.

She glanced at him. Into his dark eyes, that were surrounded by-jealousy inducing-lengthy lashes.

She placed her hands on his shoulders.

Her voice wavered, suddenly feeling shy, “Yeah?”

He nodded, his hands sliding around her waist—drawing her closer. Their faces millimeters apart.

“You.. don’t like Noel right?” he asked, sounding almost nervous.

She laughed a bit, “I just met him today.”

Their noses nudged into each other and he smirked, “Then.. he shouldn’t mind, right?”

She smiled a bit, “I don’t think he’ll mind..”

His smirk widened as their lips barely brushed against each others, “He won’t.”

She bit her lower lip, her tone playful, “He won’t?”

“He won’t.” he responded, gruffly before crashing his lips into hers.

Her first kiss.

She was too drunk-high-crossed to know what she was doing. She pressed her lips into his—merely trying to mimic his movements. His lips tasted of alcohol.

His hands were touching her all over. Sliding up the curve of her waist, grabbing her hips and even fondling one of her boobs. His thumb rubbing against one of her nipples through her top.

She moaned against his lips.

His hand slid to her thigh, moving her leg over his hard-on through his jeans. A jolt of nerves suddenly shot up her spine.

She broke the kiss. She was out of breath and her face felt hot.

Suddenly, an ice-cold voice sounded from somewhere near them, “You guys should get a room.”

They both glanced over to see Gojo standing in front of them, drink in hand.

His expression was stone-cold. His bright blue eyes latching onto hers and for some reason, she knew something was wrong. Very wrong.

Suddenly a wildly handsome, playful smile spread across his lips. To others the sight must’ve been nothing short of appealing but it felt nothing but menacing to her.

She swallowed, her throat dry.

“Gojo!” Arman greeted, friendly.

They fist bumped.

“You jealous?” Arman teased.

His blazing blue eyes slid over to Arman, his smile widening. She didn’t miss the way his fingers tightened around his glass.

“More than you know.” he mused, airily. “As much as I’d love to watch you two go at it out here, Nanami would freak. Better take it to his Mom’s room. Maybe you’ll get lucky and find some toys in there.”

Arman snorted humorously, “You’re fucked.”

Suddenly Gojo grasped her chin, forcing her to look up at him.

“Not as fucked as she is.”

That amused smile still pasted on his lips. But his eyes—she could feel the darkness swimming within them despite how blazingly blue they were. They were frigid with something so prominent she wondered how no one else saw it.

She immediately felt her body tense under his touch. She shoved his hand off of her.

His smile twisted into a wicked grin. She didn’t miss the hard edge to his curled lips.

She tugged at Arman’s hand, “Lets go.”

She wanted to get away from him. Far, far away from him.

Arman stood up, patting Gojo’s shoulder as he chuckled. Everything seemed to be funny to Arman. She couldn’t help but notice that the boys were also close in height.

“Shhh, bro.” he joked along with him. Not realizing that they were talking about completely different things.

Gojo merely winked before pressing his drink into Arman’s chest.

“One for the road?” he offered.

“Hell yeah.” Arman took the drink out of his hand and tilted his head back—downing it all in one go.

Gojo whistled as Arman handed the empty glass back to him.

Gojo lightly punched his arm, “I knew I liked you. Go have fun.”

Arman grinned, “You know I will.”

They both shared a chuckle before Arman faced her. His arms slipped around her waist.

He placed a couple light kisses on her neck, but she was stiller than stone. Her eyes were latched onto Gojo’s face—whose smile was slowly slipping away by the second.

She quickly turned away from him and faced Arman. A soft, hesitant smile on her lips.

He returned her smile with one of his own, “You wanna go upstairs?”

“S-sure.”

He pecked her cheek once more before slipping his hand through hers. He led them through the swarm of people once more.

She hated that she felt Gojo’s eyes on her back. The feeling made her shiver.

She refused to glance back.

They got lost trying to find the upstairs like twice. Only to realize they’d walked past it multiple times because the stairs were not well lit.

A few people stood at the bottom of the stairwell. Talking and chatting while her and Arman laughed quietly as they walked past them up the steps.

The group eyed them as they walked past.

Her and Arman had passed that group multiple times when they’d gotten lost so she could only imagine how odd they looked to them. Watching them go in circles around the house again and again.

She was a complete ball of giggles as they climbed up the spiral glass staircase.

He flashed her a subtle smile, before poking her.

“Shhh, keep it down, missy.” he teased her.

She almost broke out in another fit of giggles until he suddenly stopped.

He released her hand to hold onto the railing. His eyes were wide.

Her brows furrowed as she peeked up at him. She stood on the same step as him.

“Are you okay?” she asked once she noticed him look somewhat off.

He was sweating bullets.

The next thing she knew he turned his face aside and he was retching all over the steps, liquid pouring out.

Her hands went to her mouth as he stumbled down a couple steps, flimsily holding onto the railing for some balance.

He looked up at her, she stood a few steps atop him.

His eyes were bloodshot, face blotchy, his hair slick with sweat. His shirt was stained with the dark liquid of his vomit. All he’d vomited out was liquor.

He raised his foot, as if attempting to climb up one more step only to release the railing and go staggering backwards. The people at the end of steps yelled and moved out of the way as he crash landed into the floor.

A few people hadn’t moved out in time and managed to get hit by his rather tall frame, but now he lay sprawled on the floor. His red eyes wide open, arms splayed out, completely still.

His head moved slightly, as if trying to turn his face aside—only for white foam to start pouring out from his lips. His body began to convulse.

“Arman!” she screamed, running down the steps.

She dropped to her knees, by his side. She stared at him, worry consuming her as she held her hands out—unsure what to do.

She needed to find Millie. Millie might be sober enough to help her figure out this situation.

She stood up shakily. Her knees wobbly with terror as she looked down at Arman’s convulsing body. People’s shouts and murmurs all white noise to her.

More and more people seemed to gather around him.

She swiftly pushed her way through the crowd only to bump into an incredibly hard chest.

Her body went cold.

She looked up to see Gojo’s eyes already on her. She swore something in his eyes crackled, like blue flames.

His fingers grazed her forearm before grasping her. His large hand easily encapsulated the entirety of her elbow, “Go on. Find another plaything. I can do worse.”

The underlying threat veiled by his darkly charming smirk made goosebumps break across her skin. Her throat went dry in terror.

Her eyes widened as it clicked, “You… it was you..”

Noel. Jaemin. Arman. He’d done something to them.

He tilted his head, strands of his white hair becoming more disheveled in the process.

He raised a white brow as he waited for her to complete her response. His dangerous smile only widening.

The confidence sweeping off of him unsettled her to bone—enough to make her choke on her words.

“What did you do?” she whispered in shock.

“Nothing I regret.”

She stepped back, shoving his hand off of her.

She cupped her elbow-where his hand had been moments ago. Her skin still buzzed from the aftermath of their contact.

“What did you do to them?” she asked, her voice shaky.

His eyes bounced with amusement as she stared at him in absolute horror. The feeling of fear coursing within her only amplified by the drugs and alcohol in her body.

“What did you do to Arman?” she demanded.

His hand slipped out of his pocket, revealing a little zip lock baggie of pills. Some of the pills were crushed, leaving a powdery residue on the sides of the bag.

She eyed the bag. He caught the unsureness in her eyes.

“You know what this is?” he asked.

She shook her head.

“Molly.”

Her eyes widened—especially when she remembered Arman had downed the drink Gojo gave him without a second's hesitance.

Who knows how much he put in there.

“Y-you’re sick.”

He chuckled—chuckled.

The faint sound of sirens pierced through the music. It seemed someone had called the ambulance.

“This is nothing.”

I wish he was lying.

“He’s seizing on the floor.” she sputtered.

“And?”

Her heartbeat stopped—her eyes instinctively meeting his once more. The smirk on his lips had dulled some, but his eyes. There was almost an ethereal glow to them—but instead of finding it beautiful, she found it deeply disturbing.

“You aren’t his to touch.”

She was speechless. The uneasy feeling in her gut pulsed through her—urging her-screaming at her to get away from him. As far away as she could.

She staggered backwards, his sharp eyes and fading smile never leaving her as she disappeared into the crowd.

I should’ve never gone to that party.

Ara walked with her phone in her hand. The sky was dark, but the brightly lit mansions along the street kept the streets rather well lit.

Each mansion was more spacious and grandly landscaped than the next—almost as if in competition. Some had fountains and others had marble driveways. It was mind-boggling.

She glanced over her shoulder, looking back at Nanami’s house. The ambulance was parked outside, alongside several police cars.

She’d gone searching for Millie first, the second she’d gotten away from Gojo. But she couldn’t find the other girl anywhere.

She stopped her search the second she heard cops pounding on the mansion doors. She’d escaped through the back door.

She watched the house observantly from over her shoulder. The music and voices could still be heard from down the street.

She saw a paramedic and a few cops dragging a stretcher out to the ambulance.

Her heart lurched as she remembered just the look of distraught that had passed along Arman’s face a second before he stumbled down the stairs. 

An image of his helpless body, lying on the ground at an awkward angle, with foam bubbling out of his mouth.

She flinched. She hadn’t felt that scared in a long time.

And Gojo. 

She was still too drunk to fully process what he’d done. Too inebriated to fully acknowledge it.

She shook her head, raking a hand through her hair as she glanced down at her phone.

An unfamiliar number had texted and called—multiple times.

163-7263-1555: ara its me

163-7263-1555 (2) missed calls

163-7263-1555: pick up

163-7263-1555: silent treatment againnn :///

163-7263-1555: shouldn’t i be the one mad right now

She was more than sure it was Gojo. She wasn’t sure how he’d gotten her number, maybe Millie had given it to him.

She’d rather die before texting him.

She switched from the messenger app to Google maps. She was following the walking directions to her home address. Even if it was 39 minutes away, she didn’t care. She wanted to go home.

She didn’t want to ever party again.

I should’ve never gone home that night.

She stood in the middle of her room. It was still just as messy as her father had left it.

It was like walking back from one nightmare to another.

She sighed, walking over to make sure her bedroom door was still locked. She knew if her dad had wanted to come check on her could’ve, he had a key.

He preferred to kick it down sometimes despite that.

She raked a hand through her hair before deciding to clean one section of the mess. Maybe it would ease her nerves—she was almost sure sleep wasn’t going to come easy to her tonight.

She bent down, picking up the fallen papers beside her desk. Her legs ached from her long walk. Luckily it hadn’t been too cold outside.

Suddenly a slight sound came from her window.

Her head spun and she eyed it warily.

What was that?

Nothing was different—at first glance anyway. She swallowed, unsure what to make of it.

She glanced over when she spotted her phone on the bed light up. It casted an ominous white glow to a corner of her dim room, along the ceiling and wall.

She hadn’t kept any lights on. Using the moonlight pouring from the window as her only source of light.

Her stomach swam with uneasiness. She was too uncertain to move.

Her whole body tensed when she heard faint shuffling noises by her window. Her eyes widened when she saw a hand grasp her window ledge then, before she knew it, a figure appeared.

He was squatting, his legs wide open over the narrow window ledge. The same ledge she used moments ago, to climb back into her room.(a/n: y’all kno that one official art pic of gojo squatting, legs wide & his thumb under his blindfold, yeA that one ;) 

A smirk lit the edge of his lip when he spotted her.

He raised his hand and knocked on the window, as if prompting her.

She didn’t move—merely rooted in spot-in shock.

No fucking way.

When he realized she wasn’t going to open the window his shoulders sagged. His expression darkened as she heard him mutter through the glass-

“Do I have to do everything myself?”

He used the hand that wasn’t pressed flat against the window to grab onto the slim rail. After a bit of shuffling he pushed the window up.

Her heartbeat skyrocketed and she immediately stood up.

He’s going to come inside.

She glanced towards her bedroom door but then stopped. She glanced down at herself.

She hadn’t changed out of her outfit from the party. Her dad was surely going to kill her if he saw her in this outfit. Her dad was sure to kill her for even being up at this hour.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

“Araa.” his voice was light, almost teasing.

She spun around, eyes wide with panic when she saw Gojo standing within her room. He looked so tall, his head too close to the ceiling.

Her room wasn’t exactly small but the mess made it look so. And his tall, slender frame made it look even smaller.

He stood right underneath the moonlight emitting from the window, it gave the ends of his frosty white hair a glossy hue.

He looked radiant.

Every detail of his pretty blue eyes defined in the dark.

Maybe I should scream..

A croak left her lips.

Her drunk mind raged with indecision. She knew she should scream, wake her father… but she was terrified. Terrified of picking the wrong demon to deal with.

Her father was predictable. He’d hit Gojo then hurt her twice as bad once he kicked Gojo out. She winced at the thought–but Gojo-Gojo was unpredictable. There was no guarantee what he would do…

Maybe I can get him to leave.. She was terrified of rousing her dad. He’d already beat her once today–if he beat her again she wasn’t sure she could handle it. And if she had to explain where she’d been… he’d kill her. She was sure of it.

Gojo tilted his head, “Aren’t you goin’ to talk to me?”

Her body shook slightly, “What-are you doing here.” She meant to sound firm but her voice came out raspy instead.

He took a step towards her while teasingly mocking her tone, “Why-the hell don’t you answer your phone.”

She took several steps back, fighting to keep her voice calm, “Y-you need to leave–”

He continued to slowly walk towards her, his eyes skimming over the mess in her room curiously, “If you picked up my call I could’ve taken you home, y’know. You didn’t have to walk.”

She held out her hand, “Stop.”

She stopped him a second before he could stand directly in front of her. Despite him being a few feet away from her, his tall frame easily blocked her sight from most of the room. His head was bent as he looked down at her.

She scrambled backwards a few steps, nearly tripping over the mess in her room multiple times just to regain more distance between them.

“Don’t come close to me,” she warned, her voice shaky, “Get out, Gojo. I’m serious. Get. Out.”

His eyes twinkled, “But I just got here.” he whined.

Her hand shook as she kept it held up in the air. “Just go.” she whispered, her tone harsh.

The glint of amusement within his eyes was all too demeaning. He tilted his head.

“What’re you gonna do, princess.” 

Her mouth went dry, she struggled to find her words. Her heart pounded in her ears. 

“I’ll scream.”

A dangerously handsome smile split across his lips. He shook his head.

“My dads home.” she warned.

His eyes latched onto hers, “Then why didn’t you scream when I came in.”

She felt something constrict in her throat.

She didn’t know how to tell him that despite him entering her house against her will-her Dad was guaranteed to twist the story and blame her. He might beat Gojo but he’d beat her worse. Because it would be her fault that Gojo got into the house. It would be her fault for not locking her window. It would be her fault for even knowing who Gojo was–

Because everything was always. her. fault.

She swallowed–feeling absolutely sick.

“You want me here.”

Her eyes immediately flitted up to his, “No.”

“Admit it.”

“There’s nothing to admit,” she spat.

His eyes blazed as he taunted, “Then scream.”

Her body tensed with indecision–panic. Her throat constricted once more as she tried to think through the fear. She had to pick the lesser of two evils.

Her mind instantly became plagued with terror at the thought of waking her Dad. Just imagining his potential anger made her want to sob. But Gojo–he wasn’t listening.

“Please-” her voice cracked before she clenched her jaw, “Just get out.”

Suddenly he was crossing the distance between them, easily stepping over the mess.

Her eyes widened, instinctively backing up until her back hit her bedroom door.

The second he stood directly in front of her adrenaline took over and she slapped him. Her hand shook slightly from the aftereffects.

“I said. get. the fuck. out.” she bit out through rushed breaths.

She was absolutely terrified of looking up at Gojo–but she did it anyway. His head was still turned aside, facing the direction she’d slapped him. His smooth cheek blossomed with red from her slap.

His crystalline eyes were frozen at first-as if in shock-before something shifted. Her breath caught at the sight.

The next thing she knew she was being tossed onto the bed.

His hand was at her neck, holding her down in a chokehold as he stood between her spread legs. His other hand flat against the blanket beside her head. 

“I’ve been good. so. fucking. good.” His lips brushed against her skin as he spoke roughly into her temple. 

His fingers momentarily tightened around her throat.

“I left you alone,” He dug his nose into her cheekbone, pressing her face aside into the bed. “You think that was easy for me, hmm?” 

His fingers loosened on her throat, his thumb gently rubbing over her racing pulsepoint.

“All I wanted was somethin’ in return, but you know what I got—” he hissed. “I got you showing up to a party, looking like the sluttiest bitch I’ve ever seen.”

His fingers tightened around her neck once more as he growled against her cheek, “I wanted to slut you out right then and there.”

She shivered, her hands went to his wrist at her throat—weakly pushing at him. Her nerves alight with terror.

“Get off–“ she whispered, shifting under him.

“You know what your ‘friend’ told me when she hugged me. She said ‘look what I brought you’.”

Her eyes widened. Millie? Millie said that?

His hand left her throat, suddenly cupping her face—forcing her to look directly at him.

He spoke raggedly, “She knows you’re mine—everyone knows you’re mine. Except you-you want to tease me—“

His lips crashed onto hers, enveloping her lips in a kiss so hard that her jaw ached. Her skin simmered wherever they touched.

The pressure of his lips dug her further into the bed. She gasped when he tugged at her lower lip with his teeth. He immediately took advantage of her open lips—shoving his tongue through the narrow expanse of her mouth.

He groaned.

She grabbed his shoulders and shoved him back.

He budged just enough for the kiss to break–his blue eyes illuminating in the dark. He slowly straightened, licking his lips.

She quickly propped herself up on her elbows. Her chest heaving in and out as she attempted to catch her breath. She placed a hand over her lips, her hand shook.

He stood in between her legs, which hung over the bed’s edge. His face was flushed, and not because of her slap.

“What the hell–” she rasped, before cutting herself off when he grabbed his shirt from the back and easily slipped it off.

Her throat went dry.

Well, him being the best basketball player definitely showed. It genuinely.. wasn’t fair.

His skin was incredibly smooth–nearly glowing in the darkness of her barely lit room. His shoulders bulged; his arms tautly corded with muscle. His already protruding abs tightened before her eyes. He was entirely too compact with muscle—it was clear he’d done some work in the gym.

He looked so strong-so lean-she was almost… terrified.

In fact, she was scared out of her mind.

He ran hand through his tousled white hair before bending over her once-again. He pressed his hands to the bed, around either side of her.

His jaw was locked as he looked down at her. His eyes slowly looking her up and down–his gaze absolutely predatory.

His forehead nearly touched hers as he lowered himself but she immediately fell back into the bed–avoiding his touch.

She scrambled under him–moving without any thought as she attempted to slip away only to yelp outloud when he grabbed her by the waist and shoved her back down against the bed.

She looked up at him, her eyes wide with fear.

His countenance was unreadable–except for the dark look of heat that swam within the endless blue waters that were his eyes. The longer she looked at him she knew what was going to happen—she knew she was going to drown.

“You’re mine now.”

No. no. no.

Suddenly his hand was at her tube top, shoving it down. Her tits spilled over, revealing their luscious size. Her nipples were already hard from the slight breeze that escaped from her window.

His eyes reveled in the sight before he grabbed one and squeezed. She gasped at his grip.

“Mmm,” he palmed her hard nipple, “You been hiding these from me.”

She grabbed at his wrist, failing miserably to tear his firm hand off her chest.

She writhed under him, “Gojo, no—“

Suddenly he grabbed her wrists, easily pinning her hands above her head with one of his own. Her tits only seeming to protrude more at this angle.

His eyes widened, “Fuck.” he muttered, “You never took off our uniform’s jacket for a reason, huh?”

She didn’t get the chance to respond because he was touching her in an instant.

He took his time with each of her tits. He ran his palm against the smooth, untouched area of her underboob. He squeezed a handful, letting her tits fill the entirety of his large hand until it spilled through the gaps of his fingers.

He pinched her nipple and her body bucked.

“So fucking hot.” he gritted out.

“Gojo, please, stop, please—“ she whispered, begging.

She’d never felt this vulnerable in her life–she had to make him stop.

She twisted underneath him, purposely pushing her wrists against his hold only to gasp when his mouth latched onto her nipple. He lapped her perky nipple up, sucking diligently while roughly groping the other.

He broke away from her to look up at her through her tits, his lips glossy with saliva.

“How can I.” he answered, raggedly-before latching his mouth onto her unattended tit.

A choked moan left her lips-not from pleasure. Or so she thought-she couldn’t deny the feeling her nipples being attended to elicited. It was a feeling she’d never experienced before.

There was a heat she was starting to feel within her body—the kind of heat that was starting to burn within her, making her crave something she didn’t even know she wanted.

The feeling only added to her fear. The pulsing fear running underneath her skin threatened to overwhelm her.

“Please, please,” she whined, “My father is downstairs—please—“

His tongue swiped at her erect nipple once more. The tip of his tongue licking a tantalizing circle around her nipple before withdrawing his lips. A subtle smirk grew on his lips before he spit between the center of her tits. The feeling of the fluid against her skin making her squirm.

His fingers smeared his saliva along both of her tits. Her tits were soft and pillowy in his hands, using it as an excuse to squeeze them once more–he had to get them fully wet somehow, didn’t he?

He leaned back, standing upright between her legs. He didn’t let go of her wrists.

His blue eyes ran down her body. He wanted to groan. Her tits looked so good like that–glistening from his spit.

“Daddy’s downstairs, hm?” he mused. “Maybe he should know who his daughter belongs to now, hmm? He’s going to meet me one day anyway.”

“No..” she whispered.

He bent over her once-again, his teeth nipping at her lower lip. She sharply turned her head away–her body twisting underneath him.

“Get off—” she was cut-off when his hand suddenly pressed into her lower stomach, pushing her down further into bed. Her twisting and turning forced to an abrupt halt at the movement.

A low-cry left her lips.

“Why don’t you scream my name as loud as you can, yeah? I want you to.”

His hand was at her skirt, ripping it off with one swift yank of his arm.

He greedily drank in the sight of her in a baby pink lacey thong. Millie had given it to her tonight, as a ‘first night out’ gift.

If she’d known he would see it, she would’ve never worn it.

He slid his hand up her thigh, forcing her leg to spread before him. His teeth skimmed over his bottom lip at the sight. The entirety of her glistening cunt was visible to him since her thong had partly shifted aside.

He groaned through his teeth.

“Fuck, princess.”

He quickly released her wrists to hold up both of her legs, sliding his hands under her knees—spreading her completely wide open for him.

Before she could think of utilizing her free hands, she tensed. His pant covered groin was suddenly pressed against her warmth. His hard-on evident against her sensitive, untouched skin.

Her body buckled at the sensation.

A low chuckle left his lips before he began to grind his clothed cock against her wet cunt. She gasped, the feeling of something moving against her warmth foreign to her. But her body betrayed her mind—her juices spilled out her core, coating her thong and wetting his pants.

“Such a pretty pussy.” he rasped as he began to pick up speed, his hips jutting against her sensitive cunt. He was so hard.

She couldn’t move, her legs were spread wide. Held open by him against her will. Her knees were nearly at her shoulders as he grinded his cock against her. The bed squeaking noisily.

There was a feeling she couldn’t describe starting to brew within her. That heat–it spread along her skin and burned her insides. It seemed to originate from where he was rubbing against her. She couldn’t take it.

“Gojo-stop, Gojo-” she cried out, begging him to stop but he cut her off.

“Yes,” he growled out, “Just like that—want you to scream it next.”

His cock grinded harshly against her now, making her yelp out and her toes curl. Her thong was soaking, a wet spot had formed on his pants.

“So fucking wet,” he stared down at her cunt, continuing to roughly grind his cock against her. The friction felt so good against his cock.

“All mine.”

She writhed. A strangled cry leaving her lips as she attempted to separate her cunt from him by pressing her hips into the bed. The feeling was just too much–

He merely ground his cock further against her–pressing his hips against hers to further push her down into the bed. He used the added pressure to jut the length of his cock faster against her cunt.

She cried out, “P-Please—! Stop, Gojo—nnghh!”

He groaned–forcing himself to stop so he didn’t cum. He didn’t want to cum just yet.

She shivered, a subtle sigh of relief leaving her lips as she felt that hypocritical heat buzzing within her skin die down. She had no words for what that feeling was. A zip of fear coursed through her when she nervously glanced up at Gojo between her spread legs.

He was out of breath, his abs tightening with each inhale. Strands of his white hair curled over his forehead, slick with sweat. The slight mark of her earlier slap still on his cheek.

His gaze was possessive as he muttered, “m’gonna make you mine.”

He let go of one of her legs to unbuckle himself. He was too impatient to step out of his pants, merely unzipping himself and shoving his boxers down to let his thick, veiny cock jump out.

It was so long it made a slight sound when it hit his navel at first. His cock was big—big enough for her to be aware that it was big despite not having seen other cocks before. It was swollen at the tip, pink and leaking a liquid-y white substance.

The liquid leaked down his cock’s veiny sides. The veins protruding against his cock’s pale, pink skin. His cock was so erect, it was almost taunting her.

Her heart jumped to her throat–she was absolutely terrified.

She attempted to close her legs, drawing her knees together, “N-no…”

He easily drew the one leg he held apart and used his other hand to hook his index finger around her thong. He moved it further aside before placing his cockhead right at her entrance.

The tip of his cock pulsed as he felt her juices leak against him–despite not having entered her yet. His hissed–mind blanking with pleasure but before he could act on it, her legs flung out.

She turned to her side, moving to escape—until his hand found her throat, easily pinning her back down to the bed as he shoved his cock right into her core.

A pain-filled cry left her lips, her body buckling wildly underneath him. He’d only managed to seat his tip within her, but it hurt—it hurt so bad.

He bent over her and groaned.

A shiver raked her body at the sound. She went still, eyes squeezing shut, “No-no-nono-”

He peered down at her, his blue eyes dark with lust as he saw her strained expression. He slowly withdrew his cockhead and pushed it back in.

Her body jolted, eyes snapping open, “No—Gojo, stop-please, please—it hurts—“

She grabbed onto his hand at her throat. Her nails scratched at arm–trying-shoving-pushing at him, but they both knew it was futile. She sobbed.

Her cunt was incredibly wet, wet enough for her to feel aware of how warm the juices were making her insides. Despite all of this, she was still a virgin. She’d never had someone inside her before. Her cunt didn’t have any room for someone as big as him—or anyone ever.

He lowered himself over her, careful not to press his cock further into her as he swiped his tongue along her cheek, licking up her salty tear.

“You cryin’ princess?”

The tip of his cock pulsed inside of her.

His fingers around her neck tightened, “Do y’know how fuckin’ good you feel? How tight?”

He nipped at her jaw, before sucking at her neck—leaving dark dark hickeys behind. Darker than the marks he’d left on her tits.

“You think you deserve to run free after the way you were rubbin’ up on those random bitch boys, hm? You let them feel you up-let ‘em talk to you—”

His hips bucked into her, forcing another inch in. She nearly screamed.

“Only I get to do that.”

Her body was arched in pain, the skin above her tits felt warm and blotchy as she outstretched her neck. Her collarbones rising and falling against her skin as she breathed unevenly.

“No-no-no-“ she whimpered, her cunt hurt bad. Having more of him within her felt wrong—despite what the signals in her body were telling her.

Her cunt squeezed around him-heartily willing to accept him despite the pain. His girth was huge, taking up too much space. There was no way-this couldn’t be happening—

He groaned into her neck, his hand slipping down to play with her tits once more.

He squeezed her tit greedily before rubbing her areola till her nipple hardened against his palm. 

“You were such a bad girl today-y’know-you should be grateful..”

He chuckled, huskily, against her skin, “Should be grateful I’m not tearing this pussy open right now.”

She made a low, weak moaning sound. She could only imagine the pain—there was no way. No way she could take all of him. She would break.

Her cunt squeezed around him, hard—the complete opposite of her mind’s reaction.

“Hah,” he breathed out, against her neck.

His hands beside her head fisted the sheets, gripping it hard as his thighs flexed. He fought the animalistic urge to pound his hips into her at the godless pace he wanted to fuck her at.

He had to resist–her pussy was so tight that his cock nearly felt wedged in place, despite the slick of her wetness coating the rest of his balls.

He raised his head over hers, his cerulean blue eyes raking over her face. Her lips were slightly parted-breathless-as the crease in her brow deepened. Her body shook slightly as she tried to twist her face away–revealing that she was in pain.

His lips brushed along her jawline as a rush of lust overcame him at her expression. His balls swelled.

“Your pussy’s beggin’ for me, princess.”

He withdrew his hips slightly, letting his cock slide out before shoving it back in at the depth he was at before. Her body lurched. Her hands instinctively grasped his shoulders to hold onto something as she arched in pain.

Despite the cry she’d let out–she’d still heard the lewd, wet sound that filled the air.

“Hear that,” his lips were at the cusp of her ear, “That’s how wet you are.”

His hand cupped her tit again before squeezing it-harshly. She wanted to yelp but squeezed her eyes shut instead, biting down on her lower lip to quiet herself. If her Dad awoke to seeing her like this…

“You wanted this, didn't you?” Gojo’s ragged voice cut through her thoughts, “Isn’t that what you told Millie?”

His cock snapped in and out again. At the same depth as before. Barely a fourth in.

She gasped through her teeth. Her body trembled as she tried not to be too loud. He hadn’t gone deeper but god-the action was so unfamiliar, her insides felt like a mess.

“You told her you wanted to lose your virginity tonight.”

Her eyes snapped open in horror.

She had told her she was open to that but that was in confidence—and it wasn’t like that was her sole goal for the night.

Suddenly he leaned back, letting himself stand completely upright between her legs. His hands slipped up her thighs, spreading her legs further open—far and wide.

He stared down at her through half-lidded, hungry eyes.

“I’ll give you what you want, princess.”

Her eyes widened before she attempted to lift her hips away from him, but his hands suddenly wound themselves around her calves. His hands slipped under the bend of her knees before shoving her legs apart, forcing her hips back down into the bed.

She felt his tip poke her entrance.

She gasped—fear consuming her as she twisted helplessly. His hold was too strong for her to move. She attempted to pry his fingers off of her legs.

“Gojo-please, please-no, no-I can’t—“

Her little mewls shouldn’t have made his cock stiffer. He leaned over her, spreading her legs further open as his hands pushed her knees up. She felt the tip of his cock poke at her wetness.

His lips brushed against hers as she jolted. She was so sensitive, he loved it.

“Don’t be like that, kitten,” his voice a low murmur against her lips, “I told you I wanted you.. you should’ve came to me first.”

His hips shot forward, burrowing the full length of his cock inside of her all at once.

He caught her scream with his lips, kissing her deep and slow as she trembled underneath him.

Her nails dug into his shoulders. The pain was so blinding she couldn’t think. She felt so full–she felt like a new space had just been forced apart within her.

She writhed underneath him, unable to think until she pried her lips away from his. Her teeth clenched as she turned her head aside, trying so hard not to scream as his cock throbbed inside of her—forcing her pussy to accommodate.

She let out a choked breath, her cunt inadvertently squeezing around him.

“Fuck,” He groaned, the sound muffled as he pressed his face into her hair. “Takin’ me so well, princess.”

He slightly pressed his hips further into her, reveling in the feeling of how the walls of her cunt didn’t let him go, “Feel so fuckin�� good.”

She winced, moaning in pain as she squeezed her eyes shut. Her fingers clasping and unclasping his shoulders.

His blue eyes scanned her face, a look of adoration and pure lust mixing within his gaze as he ran his hand down her temple to move her hair out of her face.

“Your virginity was always mine.” he stated, huskily–with all the confidence in the world.

Her cunt squeezed around him and his hips jutted into her. Just as she cried out he pressed a desperate kiss to her lips. The feeling of his cock completely stuffing her and his lips on hers simultaneously jumbled her body and nerves like no other. She whimpered.

He broke the kiss before leaning back. His gaze darkened as he took in the view before him.

His hands on her thighs spread her legs some more, causing a soft whimper to leave her lips. Her full, perky tits were shiny with sweat. And her legs—they looked so fucking sexy, completely outspread for him like that. He could feel every tremble of her thighs go straight to his cock.

And her cunt—her cunt looked so good, completely stuffed to brim by him. Her warm pussy juices leaked over the edge of his cock. He didn’t miss the line of blood slipping down her cunt to ass.

She looked so ready to be used.

And that’s exactly what he did.

He fucked her hard. He didn’t care how loud the bed was. His dick slammed in and out of her relentlessly—lewd sounds of her wetness filling the room as she cried out with each rough fuck. If she thought the pain was bad before, it was nothing compared to now.

He was just so damn big. She swore she could feel each ridge and vein of his dick against her pussy walls—his cock forced her pussy to fit.

His countenance was focused despite being lost in complete bliss. Her pussy was his. Only his.

He didn’t slow down—continuously ramming his dick into her. The tip of cock hitting her walls each time, making her body jump up and quiver. Her tits bounced satisfyingly with each body breaking fuck.

“Ohh—god, fuck—stop, p-please—“ she was absolutely dumbstruck.

“You can take it.” He spread her legs wider, making her back arch in pain.

He leaned forward, picking up his pace somehow, “I’ll be the first and last dick you have—you hear me? This cunt’s mine.”

She breathed haggardly, her brain lost in a fog of pain as that heat she felt earlier slowly crept back up. She couldn’t believe this was happening.

“Nngh—!” was all that left her mouth when he continued to fuck her out. He kept spreading her legs open further–his grip on her legs firm as he let his cock hit her at an even deeper angle.

“Hurts!” she cried out, wincing, “Gojo—please—“

He didn’t stop. His cock slamming in and out of her roughly. Her cunt felt so damn good—so tight.

He licked a bead of sweat that shone along her cheekbone, “I know, princess.”

She was a mess. Her hands gripping his shoulders tightly as she let him do whatever he pleased. It hurt so bad she couldn’t think–but there was a small part of her that was reveling in the feeling he was arousing. She couldn’t explain it.

“Gojo, please, stop–” she whined, helplessly, tears slipping down the corner of her eyes once more.

His hand went to her navel, gently pressing into her lower stomach. He growled when he felt the slight bump of his tip hitting his hand. Fuck, her pussy felt too good.

He looked down at her. Her tits swung in hypnotizing circles. Her hair was completely unruly over the sheets and her face shone with tears.

His voice was rough as he muttered, “Such a pretty crier–S’not fair.”

Her cunt tightened at his words and he groaned through clenched teeth. She felt his dick throb inside her and couldn’t help but shiver at the unfamiliar feeling. She felt like wasn’t on this planet. This feeling burning within her skin, the lewd noises filling the room. The odd sensation of gradually building up subtly under the pain.

“You like that, hmm? You like when I compliment you while breaking you open?”

She shook her head, “N-no, please-nnghh, it hurts. Hurts.”

“You can take it, princess.”

He leaned forward, enrapturing her lips in forceful kiss as he pressed his hips into her. Letting the length of his cock fully submerge into her warm wetness. Her body arched underneath him, her tits pressing into his firm chest as he kept her down.

She felt his cock twitch and she gasped, breaking the kiss, “G-gojo—!”

He buried his face into her neck, groaning as he shoved his cock further into her. She winced.

Then suddenly she felt his cock pulsate within her. She felt something warm and thick fill her up—a lot of it. She swore she felt it drip down her ass.

He came… inside me. She went limp in shock.

He slumped over her, catching his breath. His weight nearly crushing her until his dick spasmed within her, shooting out the last loads of cum within her cunt.

He came a lot. He knew he had—it wasn’t usually like this but fuck, he had to see it.

He leaned off of her slowly. He slipped his hands around her legs once more, spreading her open to see his dick still lodged deep within her.

She was just so warm down there… Fuck, he almost didn’t want to pull out.

He noticed streaks of his cum had slipped out, joining the trail of blood and pussy juice that trailed down to her ass. His cock jerked in her pussy at the sight.

He slowly pulled himself out, his cock leaving her pussy with a satisfying ‘pop’ when he finally withdrew himself completely. A string of cum was still attached to her pussy from his tip when he pulled out.

A second later, more cum poured out of her cunt. And more. Streaks of blood were mixed in here and there but Fuck—how much did he cum?

His cum leaked out of her cunt and slipped down her ass onto the sheets. The sight was so erotic he didn’t notice that his cock was fully erect again. His balls throbbing once-more.

He ran a hand over his dick, giving it a few pumps before squeezing the tip to watch one last bead of cum pour out. He swiped at the cum with his fingers, collecting it.

He brought his fingers to her lips. Her eyes were closed but then opened half-way at his touch. Her whole body ached from the aftermath of their sex, she was completely worn out.

“Open your mouth.” he murmured.

She blinked, before opening her mouth compliantly.

He placed his finger in her mouth, “Suck.”

She did. Her little tongue swiped at the substance coating his fingers and squinted at the taste. She didn’t know what to make of it.

He smirked, that typical darkly handsome smirk of his– “Good girl.”

She lay in bed, curled up into a ball under the sheets. She still hadn’t gotten up to shower yet-despite desperately feeling the need to shower after getting railed by Gojo Satoru.

She still couldn’t believe that had just happened.

Her whole body ached, each physical movement causing some sort of strain on her body. Her throat felt dry and her legs still felt sticky despite having pissed already. She was still in a state of shock.

She hadn’t gotten the nerve-or will-to move because Gojo was still here.

He lay on the bed next to her. She couldn’t see him because her back was to him. She needed him to leave.

She felt the bed shift under his weight and suddenly his presence felt closer. His voice arose from somewhere near her shoulder,

“Are you sleeping?”

She jolted slightly, at his closeness—before scooting further away from him on the bed.

“Hm.. you mad at me then?”

Her brows furrowed. Why’d he say it like I shouldn’t be?

She needed him to leave but she refused to talk to him. She’d experienced abuse before this…but this was different. He’d taken her virginity.

She flinched when she felt him press a delicate kiss to her shoulder.

“C’monnn, princess,” he urged—whining slightly, “Talk to me.”

She didn’t want to. When the silence ensued she thought she heard a low sigh.

“You’re not allowed to give me the silent treatment anymore.” he muttered, discontentedly.

Her eyes snapped open at that—unsure what to make of his words. She wasn’t sure if that was a threat or just more of him whining. He was so unpredictable, she had no clue how to safely navigate this situation.

She didn’t trust his current easygoing-ness one bit. She didn’t know what he would do to her if she said something wrong—something he didn’t like. She wanted to be defiant but she was… terrified. She’d never been overpowered like that—completely bent to someone else’s will.

She still felt the imprint of his large hands around her legs, gripping her thighs firmly in place-to keep her spread open for him no matter how much she struggled. He barely budged when she’d twisted and turned-trying to escape. He dominated her easily every time. His strength scared her.

She closed her eyes, willing her heart rate to calm down. She needed to think through the fear but she wasn’t ever any good at acting.

She hesitantly poked her head out from the blanket, turning slightly to face him.

His blue eyes sparkled at the sight of her.

“Do you know what you just did to me?” her voice wavered, resisting the urge to snap at him, “Why would I want to talk to you.”

He was propped up on one elbow, shirtless, as he lay beside her. His white hair was completely ruffled, with strands poking out in different directions. A subtle pout appeared on his lips as he contemplated her question. His white brows furrowing.

She wished he’d put his shirt on.

He sighed, “Me and you were gonna happen regardless so..” he shrugged.

She blinked, staring at him in complete disbelief. There was so many things wrong with that that she didn’t even know where to start.

His fingertips skimmed her cheekbones, tucking her hair behind her ear. She resisted the urge to flinch.

She watched him in complete stunned silence.

He was gazing at her, almost adoringly. She could tell from his line of sight that he could see the hickeys decorating her neck. Now that he’d moved her hair out of her face, they were more visible.

His crystalline eyes flitted to hers, catching her staring. A brief look of surprise flashed over his eyes before a smug smile spread across his lips.

“I’m pretty, right?”

She blinked, speaking impulsively, “You’re insane.”

“Fix me then.”

Her eyes widened before flinching when his hand slipped over her stomach, lightly pressing her down so that she lay flat on her back instead of her side.

She froze. Her body alert with fear as he leaned towards her. He placed his head on her shoulder, letting himself lie comfortably over her.

He threw his long leg over her tiny frame. She was still partly naked under the blanket—but lucky for her, he wasn’t under the sheets.

“Don’t chicks love that shit?” he continued before sighing, “I wish you wanted to fix me.”

She glanced down at him, at his fluffy white head on her shoulder—his hair tickling her chin. He was so big compared to her that despite him being the one trying to ‘cuddle’ on her, his large stature still gave the appearance that he was spooning her.

She shifted slightly under his weight, wondering how he was comfortable. She supposed he didn’t have much to worry about—considering he was laying atop of her and seemed to live life doing whatever the hell he wanted.

Fix him? she wanted to laugh. The only thing that would fix him is jail.

She closed her eyes, fighting the urge to tremble slightly. How am I going to get out of this?

a/n: hi guys-first of all-woAh u made it. ik this was hella long, more of a short story than a one-shot but i hope y'all enjoyeddd. i realized like half-way thru editing that i never explained that some of the bolded, italicized text is spoken/narrated from our oc (ara) from the future. anyway, lmk what y'all think & if a part II is something that would interest u. eitherway, have a good day!! UPDATE: lol so here's the next chapter (pls read @ ur own risk bc it only gets worse from here... dun duN DUN)

[yanderecuphead]

[ cuphead show ]

Can you make a part 2 fanfic about cuphead x scary reader but she has feelings for him and she "begrudgingly" Accept his love for her! Imagine just walking to the diner and everyone hides the moment thay see the reader but thay dont care about that! Thay share a milkshakes and dance while holding hands! And elder kettle was scared of her at first but he realized this is probably the only gal cuphead is ever gonna have and elder kettle will take what he can get

[ sorry I made it long ]

Oh, Aww <3 Sorry I've disappeared on you guys :( I hope you guys like this- Though I don't know how many ppl still like Cuphead-

Pt 1 of 'Scary Reader x Cuphead'

He will not leave you alone and it was starting to get on your nerves

Or at least you were pretending it does

You can try and push him off, but he's determined to make you his

He doesn't care what anyone says- Not even his brother [Who is still VERY much scared of you]

"What do you mean you're scared of her? She's beautiful and kind."

"Beautiful and kind?"

^ They both look towards you, catching you crouching and scarying a little kid so bad they cry. Mugman grimaces as Cuphead sighs in bliss, tilting his head and putting his hands together

"Isn't she incredible?"

"You've got to be kidding me"

Nothing you do can deter Cuphead. He sees you as a perfect angel and no one could change his mind or perception

When you first came to Cuphead's house, Elder Kettle saw you and quickly locked the doors, before telling the boys to hide

"Boys! You have to hide! There's a monster outside-"

"Monster?" Mugman goes to the window, before pulling the curtain. He sighs when seeing you at the door, "That's no monster, Elder Kettle. That's Cuphead's girlfriend."

"Girlfriend?"

"Y/n!?!" Cuphead jumps to the window, before his eyes light up when seeing you. They're practically hearts floating above his head

"Since when do YOU have a girlfriend?"

"Since he decided he was in love with the scariest girl in town." Mugman remarks, before a shiver runs down his spine

"Hey," Mugman tilts his head, before smirking, "What's up?"

Elder Kettle is terrified of you, because holy shit- Why are your teeth so sharp. Though, when he sees Cuphead so happy with you, he shrugs and decides as long as you're not coming to kill them and Cuphead isn't getting any other girls anytime soon

Probably the only and best thing he'll ever get

^ Elder Kettle feels bad for thinking this, but he knows Cuphead

Whenever you and Cuphead go anywhere, everyone hides. Cuphead doesn't even notice, because he's so focused on you

[Also, people don't mess with Cuphead, knowing that he's with you]

He loves getting desserts and lunch with you

He can focus on you without anyone bothering you

You pretend to hate sharing some stupid, pink, cute milkshake that has swirlie straws.... But, well, it is kind of cute

And if you didn't know any better, you'd think that little hearts are appearing above Cuphead when ever he looks at you

It makes you feel giddy knowing that no matter what you do, Cuphead will always love you and that he doesn't see you as some scary monster like someone else

For the first time in your life you feel... Well, normal.

And you wouldn't trade this feeling for the world

[moraxsthrone]

Kaeya fluff? Hell yeah

Imagine being the one person Kaeya leans on. For real, this man trusts no one and thought he would trust no one until you showed up. Now here he is, venting about his rough day at work while you run your fingers through his hair, reminding him just how much you love him. Maybe it's just me, but I think this man would MELT if you told him you want him romantically. Like, he's proud of how he can make you scream his name and all but having you say that you would be with him even without that? The man's dead, you killed him, but maybe he'll come back to you for a kiss ;)

Sorry, I don't think this is what you were asking for, but hope you like it anyhow?

anonnnnnn??? this is PERFECT!! it's even better than what i wanted?? skskskskssss. bless you, child, for leaving such a sweet delicacy in my ask box! 🥹💙

CW/NOTES — mention of sex but otherwise sfw. themes of low self-worth, abandonment issues, imposter syndrome (kaeya, not reader). fluff/comfort. gn! reader.

no, hun, it's not just you. you see, i've got quite a soft spot for lowkey insecure kaeya. it only makes sense??

i touched on this in my previous post, but i think kaeya secretly worries that you'll come to your senses one day and decide that being with him is more trouble than he's worth? he's scared shitless that he's inherently disposable (after what his bio father - and later, diluc - did to him) and probably suffers from a massive case of imposter syndrome when you tell him you're in love with him.

i think a big reason why he "peacocks" so much is bc he knows he's beautiful on the outside but thinks he's ugly on the inside and not worth sticking around for. beneath that cocky façade, there's a little boy who's terrified of being left all alone again. so he overcompensates by using his good looks and charming smile to win ppl over bc deep down he thinks that's all he's got going for him. of course you want to fuck him, he thinks. who doesn't?

but YOOOO when you touch his soul and kiss his scars, and you hold his heart in your hands like it's the most precious thing you've ever held? <i'm trying not to fucking cry here 😅> you hold it so close to your own heart and take care of it like it's yours (it is now, as far as he's concerned btw), kaeya fucking freaks the fuck out. he knows how to lose people. he's all too familiar with being discarded and abandoned.

but what he's NOT used to is being seen, accepted, and loved for exactly who he is, right to his very core. the first time you spend the night with him without having sex, he doesn't even sleep. he just lies there and watches you as tears blur his vision. he holds you and breathes in the scent of your hair as he kisses the top of your sleepy head, quietly thanking his stars for you and hoping his sniffling doesn't wake you up.

he'll know how it feels to be loved unconditionally and it's all bc of you. trust, this man will never step out of your relationship or do anything else to jeopardize what he has with you.

you're his home now, his center.

you're his present and his future.

you're his whole fucking life, his everything.

you're his person, the one who has his head in your lap, slowly brushing the tangles out of his hair with your fingers, leaning down to kiss his forehead and reminding him how much you love him. even and especially on his bad days when he needs that reminder the most.

[adhdduckie]

deja vu? (m.m x fem!spider-reader)

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idea : miles morales (earth 1610) x fem!reader who's a spider-woman from another earth variant, that has this crazy american-british accent for some ridiculous reason, she works with the spider-society with Miguel and the other spiders, but she disagrees with Miguel's views and does her best to help miles, tripping into love with him.

follows most of the movie's plot, but doesn't follow into earth 42

music choice : it's hard to explain

masterlist : adhdduckie (my request are open!)

warnings ; a lot (like a lot ) of swearing cuz yk british ppl, mb a lil violent?

omg i couldn't find the script anywhere so this is from the best of my knowledge sorry guys. also any spanish is from google translate, pls tell me if i did anything wrong so i can fix it, thanks.

4.4k words

hope you enjoy!

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it was your typical tuesday night. Dimension hopping with your dear friend gwen stacy while she searched for anomalies. I mean, technically you were supposed to be searching for anomalies too, but you were just vibing. 

when you popped up into earth variant 1610, you lost gwen immediately, searching for her frantically around this, this place that looks so familiar to your home, but so different. She wasn't picking up on her watch, and so you just decided to use your abilities on her, even though she hates it. 

you pop into this teenage boys room, a little disoriented from the jump across a small dimension aka. teleporting, you heard voices.  You look up, seeing Gwen and some guy, just kind of staring at each other while gwen sits on the windowsill. 

"yo gwen! you gotta stop dropping out on me mate, this is bloody ridiculous, you dropped me off in this shitty-" You yell from behind the guy,  being interrupted when he he jumps and turns around and your brain does that weird spidey thing when you meet another spider-guy, but then there’s this little overlaying feeling of deja vu, like you’ve met him before. 

you stop. squint your eyes at the guy who's standing in front of you. you look back at gwen and ask :"who's this fucker?" 

his response is immediate :"did she just call me a fucker?"

Gwen laughs and responds to the guy: "it's the way people from her world talk, it's alright, she doesn't really mean it offensively. miles, this is y/n. She's a spider-woman from earth 617." 

"617??? there are 617 EARTH VARIANTS????" he exclaims

"guys? can we not talk about me like i'm not here? wait wait wait, this is miles?? the guy you're not supposed to come-" you say, before gwen slaps her hand over your face.  you continue to mumble into her hand. before you teleport to beside miles. 

"woah!" He says, leaning away from where you've popped up. "shit, you can teleport?"

"sort of," you respond, before staring at him more intently. 'he's cute.' you think. you continue speaking.  "it's more of something like my particles shift. not the point, moving on. what are you doing gwen? we need to go." the last part you say to gwen, but you finally look around the room.

"hey, this is cute" you say, referring to all the stuff inside of the room. 

"don't touch that!" miles yells. you throw him a look that says chill. 

"are you ready to go?" gwen asks, miles cringes and says

'i'm.... grounded?" 

"bummer" she says dryly. "Is spider-man grounded?" gwen asks, while you kind of awkwardly stand there like what the honest fuck is going on

Your watch goes

 off, an alarm you've set for yourself.  "ah shit, i've gotta run, gotta do my bloody chemistry homework. I told jessica that i'm busy on tuesdays, but nooo, she said i had to stay to fucking watch you, gwen. I'm literally younger than you!! you don't need me so i'm out, cya loves." You ramble, blowing a kiss towards gwen, wave to miles, and you bloop out. 

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A couple of what feels like days later, but can only be hours later, gwen, miles and you are on the roof of miles’ apartment, hanging out and talking, to be honest more like them talking and you just interjecting once in awhile. You don’t mind because it allows you to get a proper look at Miles. 

You watch the way he moves his hands as he talks, the way he smiles when gwen says something he likes to hear. the way his shoulders shake when he laughs. It’s nice to see a spider-guy that’s close to your age that isn’t totally depressed.

gwen, you and miles are gathered together talking about the bracelet you guys use to stop glitching. Things start to get tense when miles asks to get to know miguel o’hara. “there aren’t a lot of slots.” gwen says, speaking of the spider-society, and you cringe at the lie she’s just told. You watch miles’ smile fade away slowly and things start to get awkward.

'ah, right.” miles responds with.

“look, if it was up to me, you-“ gwen starts, being interrupted by miles’s

“uhuh, i know.” he says, absent-mindedly as he fiddles with the watch. you throw a glare over his shoulder to gwen, mad that she’s lied to this poor boy. You know that miguel doesn’t want him, but you don’t know why, having skipped that briefing for an ice cream or something. 

 just in time you look back to miles pressing a couple of buttons, and gwen panics going “ohnonono, don’t do that.” 

“it’s really delicate.” gwen lies. things get awkward and quiet and just as miles apologises, his mother pops up from behind, scaring you, even with your spider senses. 

“hi, Mrs. Morales.” you say immediately, proceeding to introduce yourself. wishing to get out of the awkward scenario with gwen and miles. she looks over at you approvingly, and gwen goes. “hiii, rio, i’ve heard so much about you.” miles’ mom looks disapprovingly at gwen, probably for using her first name the first time they met. 

just as Mrs. Morales hands gwen her sweater back, Mr. Morales, walks up. You introduce yourself again to him, also referring to him as Lieutenant Morales.  They both look at you approvingly while ignoring gwen.

“it’s lovely to meet you both, as gwen said, Miles has spoken of you both very highly.” you say, wanting to move on, the tension in the air seemingly dissipating. 

Miles introduces you both as friends from school, and just then, you get a call, your watch beeping with a timer.  “oh, i’m so sorry to interrupt, but i need to go, i promised my parents i’d watch a movie with them tonight. It has been so lovely meeting you, and the food was delicious, thank you for allowing me to stay here for awhile while you guys celebrated.” you say, ready to leave, but before you do, you shake both of Miles’ parents hands, throw gwen a 'i’m going to talk to you later' glare, and wave goodbye to miles, your heart pangs at the idea of not being able to see him for awhile 

just as you walk away from the brownstone, you can hear gwen’s watch beeping and her lame excuse to why she needs to leave. You roll your eyes, strangely protective of the guy you met a couple of days ago. 

'it feels longer than that.' the internal voice says. The sense that instantly recognised him seemed to tingle again. 'you’ve met him before' it seems to say. No, you couldn’t have. you would have recognised him immediately, after all, who will forget Miles morales?

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the next time you see gwen and miles is quite a couple of hours later. You need to speak to gwen about some paperwork, because yes, miguel o'fucking-hara makes teens that are hardwired to be on the move constantly, do goddamn paper work. You needed to clear something up so you bleeped into existence while gwen stands at the destroyed lab, on a call with jessica. 

"hey gwen." you pop up. She doesn't react because you do this to her all the time, but she doesn't turn around. "what's up?" she asks. before you answer, you pause, the hairs on the back of your neck raise up. It feels as if someone’s watching you, and you turn around. There's no one there but if you squint your eyes hard enough, you can make out miles hanging onto the ceiling, some sort of invisibility thing turned on. 

'okay,' you think 'totally not weird at all.'  you don't say anything because there must be a reason he's hiding. 

"fucking miguel, i told him not to bother me while i was doing my goddamn school shit. you know i was in the middle of a goddamn lesson? I mean i hate that class, but it's like the sixth time i've had to dip." you complain, wishing to hide miles from her, feeling oddly protective of miles. 

gwen just stares at you blankly and you move on, undeterred. "i'm just here cuz i needed paper work stuff, but you seem to be doing something interesting so i might as well stay." Gwen just shrugs, and goes back to jessica, who's at the moment, getting mad at gwen for visiting miles. 

you look back up at him and you cringe, hating how he's hearing this. miles' eyes widen when he notices that you can see him and you can see him staring at you in confusion. You pull off your mask because let's be honest that shit is suffocating, and shrug, making a fang motion, trying to communicate how it’s probably from the spider that bit you. 

you look away from miles just in time to see gwen opening up another portal to go to mumbattan. gwen walks in and you follow, making a 'come here' motion with your finger toward miles, getting him to follow even though you know you're most definitely gonna get in trouble for this later. 

you're mumbling under your breath about how you should be getting paid for this when you start swinging through mumbattan chasing after spot. Miles is struggling but you can't help but let out a small giggle, and he seems to smile at you from under the mask. You don't bother putting your mask back on, because it's not like you're from this dimension. 

anyway, you’re swinging through mumbattan before you realise miles got lost, and when spot appears, miles does too yelling about how he’s here to help

you don’t look surprised in the slightest and you only yell “did you get lost?” and he responds with a sheepish grin, and gwen shoots you a dirty look

“You knew he was following us???” She asks, irritated and angry

“yeah, he wasn’t doing a very good job of hiding it. But what’s wrong? i think he’s chill. i wanna hang out with him more.” you respond quickly, eager to defend miles even though you know gwen doesn’t mean it offensively.

At this moment, Pavitr Prabhakar pops in, knocking spot in the face with one of his gold bangles, yelling out your name excitedly, and then gwen’s, following up with “hey! who’s the new guy?” towards miles. You smile excitedly and happily at pav, this man is the vibe. “hey pav! this is miles, and he wasn’t invited” gwen responds with. 

Pav laughs “you weren’t invited and you came anyway?” gwen responds with “right?”

pav says “new guy must be in love with you” and you kind of just awkwardly stare at Pav while this happens, and he goes on about how he’s excellent at reading people, and he goes into his introduction before miles interrupts with “i love chai tea!” and you see a vein tick in pav’s forehead.

“oh, dear. you shouldn’t have-“ you start, miles looks at you confused and then pav goes on a tangent about how chai means tea and that chai tea is like saying tea tea like asking for coffee coffee with room for cream cream. 

before he gives a quick tour of mumbattan, ending with “and this is where the british stole all of our stuff!” 

you cringe and say “sorry about that” and he shrugs and says it doesn’t matter since it wasn’t you, but he would love it if you could convince your government to give back all the shit they stole and you stand there like i am a masked vigilante they are not going to listen to me, but you just nod and move on. 

things move on quickly, hobie pops up and you high-five him, and he throws an arm around you. You usually  get along with him like a house on fire. miles looks at him slightly aggravated, probably from the fact that pav made it seem like hobie and gwen were a thing. "don't worry, you whisper over at him, they're not a thing." he looks at you confused, and you pause. 

you set yourself a mental reminder to ask miles later if he too, felt a sort of deja vu when he first met you. things get really chaotic quickly, after that. Mumbattan has a massive black hole sort of thing show up and everything goes to crap. Miles gets summoned to HQ and you know shit’s about to go down.

you pull him to the side, and you whisper in his ear. “i’m here to help you. Shit seems suspicious mate, but i’ll help you if anything goes wrong.” he looks at you confused but nods and gives you a slightly out of breath 'thanks’

and guess what? you must be a fucking psychic. Shit does go wrong. Miles finds out the gwen lied to him, and you learn some new things too, like the police captains dying and the canon events. You just kind of followed things, but as soon as things felt a little off to you you dipped. 

Miles and you just got back to his dimension, popping into his room. you’re both sweaty and injured, sitting there on his floor, you stare intensely at the watch. and you decide, for everything that’s happened, you’re gonna stay to help miles try to protect his father. 

so, you break the bracelet. this way, they won’t be able to find you, and it shows that you are no longer going to work with them. 

Miles watches you and gives you a ridiculously tired smile. 

“thanks,” he whispers. “i’m not happy that you didn’t tell me that i couldn’t join because miguel didn’t want me to, but thanks for standing with me.”

“it’s no problem. I’m sorry i didn’t tell you. I didn’t know why gwen wouldn’t tell you but i didn’t want to make her angry.” you whisper back. 

“miles?” you ask, after a silence follows. he hums in response. “are you going to tell your parents now?” he looks up, and nods. he stands up, pulling on his jacket, trying to hide most of his cuts and injuries. 

he opens the door of his bedroom, ready to walk out. he looks back at you and you know what he’s asking. you get ready to stand up, taking his hand when he offers it to you. you want to be able to give him support, since this is a instrumental decision. His hand is warm and large around yours, and it just seems so right. 

you both walk out together, hand in hand, blood crusting at your lips from when you were thrown against the train, by miguel. 

Rio drops her laundry basket at the sight of you both, fussing greatly over Miles, while you stand behind him. she pauses, noticing your intertwined hands, but doesn’t comment on it, thankfully. You feel your face getting warm, but you know this isn’t the time for it. 

“Mrs Morales,” you start, “do you have a first aid box?” at your words, she rushes towards the bathroom, and soon she emerges with the solid plastic white box with the red cross. 

“ayy miles, ¿qué te pasó?” she says speaking in rapid fire Spanish. 

“madre,” he responds, “is dad home? i need to speak to you both. y/n is here to help me, and she is also involved in this.” His mother looks at you suspiciously, but nods her head and goes to retrieve Miles’ father, walking through the front door, and soon you hear the brownstone’s door close. 

you take the first aid box, and open it, making sure to access miles’ injuries before turning to your own. you’ve just wrapped up a cut on his hand when you notice a cut on his upper lip. Knowing that he probably still hasn’t noticed it, because he is anxious about speaking to his parents about being spider-man, you decide to help him clean it up. 

You inspect it properly and notice he’s busted his lip, and you grab a cotton ball and gently douse it in disinfectant, you rub it gently across his lip, while he is seated at the table, chair facing you while you do this. He’s watching you intently, and you can feel heat rushing to your face, but you continue on.  

“sit still, please.” You tell him when he starts to move around from the stinging feeling of you stitching his lip back up. He stills for you, and you smile. 

“thanks.” you say softly. finishing up quickly, before assessing your own wounds. nothing too bad, and just as you pick up another cotton swab for your own bloody lip, miles gently takes it from you, and he motions for you to sit down.

“i can help you, you helped me after all.” he says, softly. you let him do it, and when you sit there, your heart is thumping in your chest. He's staring very intensely at your lips, extremely focused on cleaning up the blood. You look down at your own suit, seeing how it's ripped, the spider logo shining under the living room lighting. 

the front door opens, and his parents both rush in. His father stops when he sees what you are wearing, his brain ticking slowly. Miles cleans off the last bit of blood off your face, and turns to his father. 

"i need to speak to you" he says to his father. "i've been pushing this off for a really long time and i really wish i could've told you but we've had a lot of issues recently, and y/n has helped me realise i should tell you no matter what, because trust matters." 

"i am, this dimension's spider-man." he finishes quickly. prepared for his parents outburst. "i have been for the last year. it is a dangerous job, but i am doing my best to protect everyone here. I hope you understand." he looks back at you, like just you being there is getting him through this. you smile encouragingly at him. 

"oh miles, nunca podremos estar enojados contigo por mucho tiempo, mientras estés a salvo, eso es todo lo que importa." his mother says to him, and he visually brightens right in front of you. His mother swoops in for a hug, and he holds on to her tightly. 

"wait, what do you mean by "this dimension"?" his father asks, ever the radical thinker. 

"so, we live in a universe with parallel dimensions. There are many mirror dimensions to this one with the same people. every one of the universes has a spider man. I'm this one's. Y/n is one from earth- variant 1610." 

His parents understand, and that makes you feel happy for him. You continue to begin assessing your injuries while they talk, but you're interrupted by miles. 

"here, let me do that for you." he says, his parents watching the interaction. his dad throws his hands exasperatedly in the air, his mom watches with an amused expression. 

"y/n?" his dad asks. "yeah?" you reply. "if you aren't from this dimension, how are you going to get back?" 

"oh. my spider-powers are different from miles's. I can swing and i have most spider tendencies, but the spider i was bit by was experimented on, and because of that, i can teleport." you say. kind of just shrugging. Miles hits you gently on the shoulder for moving while he's wrapping up your shoulder that is just now hurting, most likely because the adrenaline is wearing off. 

"i'm all out of energy, so i'm gonna need to find a place to crash for a couple of days before my powers regenerate." 

"stay here." miles says, without thinking. "oh, no i can't do that." you respond immediately. You look back at miles and notice his ears reddening. 

"no, we insist. You've taken good care of our miles." his parents say. 

"i don't want to be a burden." you reply

"no, it's alright. we'll be happy to have you." they insist

"thank you, Captain Morales and Mrs morales." you cave in. It's probably easier this way, you don't have to search for somewhere to stay. They insist you call them by their names, and you smile at them, thankful that they're so welcoming. they both go sit on the couch to watch some tv after ensuring that miles has no more injuries that you haven't taken care of. 

Miles finishes wrapping up your shoulder and steps back to admire his handiwork. "thanks," You mutter, softly. "do you have a change of clothes?" you ask gesturing to your ripped spider suit that you were definitely going to have to fix. 

"oh, sorry. Yes, sure.” he says, offering you his hand and pulling you up, and gives you a bunch of his old clothes that  for some reason look absolutely massive.

ears pinking, you thank him, and turn away to go to the bathroom to actually go get changed. while you walk away, unbeknownst to you, miles is watching you with the corner of his lips pulled up in a small smile, because after everything you’ve gone through together, you are with him now, and you did your best to help him. 

he's so unbelievably grateful for everything you've done and he genuinely has no idea on how to thank you. and when you come out from the bathroom in his clothes, he has to stifle a little laugh, because it just looks so unbelievably good on you. As if his sweatshirt was just made for you. the rest of the night is relatively peaceful, just resting and talking, getting to know him and his parents better.

the next couple of weeks you spend a lot of time popping in and out of miles' dimension, just checking up on his parents, and him. it's good to hear when he tells you that tensions with his parents are gone, as they finally understand why he's so busy and distracted all the time, and you're so happy to hear that they're getting along again.

However, you would be lying to yourself if you said you didn't miss him. even if you were seeing him every couple of days, it just didn't seem the same. You were always thinking of him, especially at the worst times, like when you were fighting the villain of the week in your dimension or in the middle of a science lecture.

so you're exceedingly grateful to be spending time with him right now, sitting on a small roof overlooking brooklyn, and you're just watching people walk by, going on with their lives and not noticing anything else.

—— mona lisa —— listen to this pls i think it works rly well —— 

you're sitting together, shoulders touching, talking about everything and nothing. Things just seem so peaceful and right this way, but something small just seems to be missing. and you know what you want to tell him, that he's constantly on your mind and that you can't think of anyone else apart from him. How everything small reminds you of him. things quiet down, and you're genuinely considering saying something.

he's sitting there thinking of the best way to tell you that he appreciates everything you've done for him, how you were willing to sacrifice so much just to help him. How he hates what happened but loves it at the same time because he got to meet you.

"miles-" you start, at the same time he goes; "there's something i need to tell you." you quiet down and give him an encouraging nod, letting him go first, because you don't want to be selfish.

"thank you, for everything you've done in the past few months for my family and I. Thank you so much for helping me come back to my dimension, when you barely knew me. i cannot thank you enough. "

"it's not a problem, miles," you tell him, "I'm happy i could help you."

"wait, wait." he rushes out, "I'm not done." you smile at him and let him finish talking.

"when i first met you, my spidey-senses went off, but that's not it. there was something else, like this sense of deja vu, like i had known you for all my life, but at the same time you felt so comfortable and familiar, and i was a little startled." he continues, "and i know we've spent a lot of time together recently, and i'm super glad we've been able to get to know each other so much better." "me too," you say quietly. "i felt it too."

he smiles happily at you, before turning away and glancing back out at brooklyn, and he keeps on pushing forwards. "and i know we haven't known each other very long, but I really, really like you way more than a friend should, and i know that you probably don't feel the same way, but i really needed to tell you, and i hope this doesn't affect our friendship, but like i said-"

you interrupt softly; "miles, miles stop." he looks at you confused, cheeks flushed and a brows furrowed, looking so desperately hopeful that you can't help but let out a small laugh. "miles," you continue, "i really like you too."

"you do?" he asks hopefully.

"yeah, i do." you respond, lacing your fingers through his. He pulls you closer to him, throwing his arms excitedly around you, letting out a soft laugh, before pulling back. he lets go of your hands, and cups your face softly.

"can i kiss you?" he asks, and when you give him a small nod, with your cheeks flushed, he kisses you for the first time.

the kiss is so devastatingly sweet, and due to both of your inexperience, you both fumble a little, before sinking into it properly. He tastes like a faint spice most likely from his mother's cooking, like something that has happened before. as if, somewhere else, something like this has played out before.

you pull back first, resting your forehead against his, whispering how much you like him to him, before both of your hands meet, fingers sliding against each other till they rest perfectly together. your head rests on his shoulder, and both of you enjoy the sweet moment together, just sitting there in the happy environment, staring out over brooklyn, just a couple of dumb idiots in love.

[crepesuzette2023]

What do you think was the deal w George playing on HDYS? Like all those ppl in the room knew Paul, used to be friends with him, and still talked shit about him, and it's just so crazy to me that Ringo was the only one bothered by it all. I can't wrap my head around it.

Full disclosure to get it out of the way: I don't much like HDYS. Musically, I mean. I think it's boring and monotonous, and the lyrics are childish because of how obvious they are. I know many people like the song, or like it musically while disliking the lyrics—all fine with me. But I'm not coming at this as a fan of the song.

What do I think George's deal was playing on HDYS? It's speculation time!

I think George had legitimate grievances about being in the Beatles: the fame, the John & Paul of it, the resulting creative frustration. He was clear enough in later years that, despite loving Paul as a friend, he wouldn't play in a band with him anymore. You can dismiss that as George being a mediocre bitch who's incapable of playing with a genius like Paul, or as Paul being a domineering asshole who can't play well with others, but it comes down to creative incompatibility, and three songwriters being at least one too many.

I imagine that any wounds and anger George carried because of that were still relatively fresh at the time HDYS was recorded. And since Paul had positioned himself as the odd one out (culminating with the lawsuit), George ended up in John's camp—his dislike of Yoko being compensated for by the presence of Klaus, Ringo, etc.

With HDYS being a reaction to Paul's no less cruel (in its own way) "Too Many People", I imagine George felt some personal outrage and solidarity with John as well: Too many people preaching practices...

With so much miscommunication/non-communication between all of them at this point, it was easy to project, blame, and make bad faith assumptions...with no one in the room (except, eventually, Ringo) willing and able to prioritize John and Paul's (and all of their) friendship over being part of the 'winning' fraction.

In One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest, the main character, McMurphy, observes a group therapy session that ends with everyone piling on and competing for the cruelest thing to say or do. He compares this behavior to a pecking party: a flock of chicken driven into a pecking frenzy after smelling blood, which leads to more cuts, and more blood. It's a dramatic example, of course, but I sense something like this in the composition of HDYS: the collective rush of being assholes together, further enhanced by John's charisma and the victim being absent. Who hasn't experienced this at some point—talking shit about the person no one liked in the moment, so happy to be part of 'in crowd'? *Raises hand* definitely guilty—teenage behavior, not proud of it. Ashamed, even.

I think that's a big part of what happened. It says a lot about Ringo that he eventually left. That's backbone.

By the way, I've no intention to make this about Paul vs. John. The situation was out of hand, and there was no one with the authority or will to make them talk and stop this (though eventually they apparently decided to stop the excessive mutual flogging in public). It remained the John & Paul business, to the end.

To wrap it up, I'm not a huge fan of "Too Many People," either, because the taunting lilt is so mean and cutting. I like the melody, though, and enjoy the version on Thrillington.

Now, the whole Dear Boy/ Dear Friend/ Best Friend/ Jealous Guy/ I Know (I Know) thing...please.

[silverskye13]

just binged all of redstone and skulk in one go. HOLY SHIT!!! i left some comments on ao3 but that wasn't enough. i needed to come to your tumblr too bc this fic has Changed Me A Little. it makes sense- i've been subscribed to you on ao3 for a while (remember hound's tooth? i think that was when i started following your writing. and monsters splitting hairs, although i'm not quite caught up on that one), and that was for a good reason- but tanguish and helsknight are something else! part of why i like fanfiction is because i get to see more of characters i already like- it takes a special fic to get me so invested in characters i've basically just met! and you do it so well! like. the subtle character things! the way i can pick out the hermits' (and martyn's, but i'm calling him a hermit for the sake of convenience) traits in the helsmits, but warped and twisted around like a funhouse mirror? fantastic. i love it. im eating that shit up. the ilttle differences and similarities between tango and tanguish, helsknight and wels (bc he isn't acting very knightly right now), impulse and the demon- it's so cool to see! i also saw the other ask you got where you talked about your process, and how you give your characters a list of traits as a guide to writing them- i'm definitely going to have to borrow that trick. it works! so well! it shows in your writing in the consistency of how the characters behave!

some other thoughts i had while reading:

helsknight being religious probably has a lot more to do with him being a knight than wels being a lutheran irl (which is where his name comes from and i find that hilarious), but still. if it's unintentional it's hilarious and if it's on purpose then it's a fun easter egg!

i relate to and understand tanguish, because i too would want to befriend helsknight, and also because if a bunch of big scary people basically adopted me and tried to teach me how to use a knife i would be so pathetic about it.

i relate to and understand helsknight and tango, because tanguish is the weirdest little cat ever and i too am captivated by his pathetic little freak charms, and i want to be his friend.

i neither relate to nor understand wels, because 1) if i saw my friend's presumably-evil counterpart skulking around the shopping district i would likely call them first (just seems like the polite thing to do, and also bc if helsknight showed up and the ppl who found him didn't call wels about it i feel like he'd probably be more than a little pissed), and 2) look at tanguish. he's just a little guy. he's a little guy and it's his birthday. how could you be mean to him.

tl;dr: redstone and skulk has compelled me to the point that leaving comments on ao3 wasn't enough, i needed to ramble straight into your inbox because it's just so good.

Oh my gosh! Firstly: thank you for all the kind words! I'm glad you're liking my writing so far, and thank you both for the comments and the scurry into the inbox. I love hearing people's thoughts, even if I don't have the spoons to respond to everyone all the time :'D

For your bullet points:

-- I didn't know Wels was Lutheran! I knew he was ex-military, and at least in my family's trends, military and religiosity go hand in hand, so it makes sense. But still! Learning new fun facts! I know nothing about the Lutheran Church [I was raised Baptist.] Probably gonna do some reading later.

-- I feel like Tanguish is going through that phase of "all the biker/military uncles have decided I'm one of them for some reason" and as someone who has gone through that before, for the same baffling non-reasons [used power tools in their presence once, a la Tanguish barely participating in a fight once] I sympathize. Very interesting somewhat scary people. Why did you invite me to sit at your table. Why do you keep slipping me tequila and buying me knives like I'm in on the joke.

-- Tanguish is such a specimen we all just want to look at him under a microscope. He is so scared yet so brave. He thinks knives are scary but he leaps off buildings. He's scared of getting hurt and seeing blood but he has no regard for his personal safety. How do you fit so many oxymorons in such a tiny body---

-- Wels please, he's a little guy and it's his birthday! Stop bullying him!!

Addendum: I agree Jackrabbit is very Tanguish coded. It is now on the playlist.

Want to live like an animal?

By the skin of your teeth?

Put your good face on, you're foolin' no one

You're a jackrabbit underneath

One step forward, step right back

Run for the hills, honey, run for the hills, honey

Run for the hills, don't look back

[candiid-caniine]

so I've seen this going around lately, and I want to talk about it. I didn't want to add discourse to OP's post because I didn't know if/how much was welcome.

this is a very hot button issue for me. general tw for this post: mention of abuse within kink dynamics.

so. y'all all know that I have some very strict limits on this blog. I have a boundary against play with cis men. I have a hard limit on misogyny and patriarchy kinks being in my space. and I'm not alone in that: a lot of other queer ppl I know (mostly wlw, nblnb, t4t, and intersex) have the same limits.

for me it's trauma rooted. all dynamic abuse I've ever experienced has been at the hands of cis men, so I don't deal well with them. and growing up in purity culture as a closeted afab has ruled out misogyny/patriarchy kink. as a result, I am very avoidant of anything that rings of these dynamics...which happen to be overrepresented as dominance in modern pornography.

it is very hard as a t4t to find porn that isn't influenced by this binary, which usually plays itself out as:

to be feminine is to be weak, and vice versa

the submissive partner is the bottom

the dominant partner is controlling outside the bedroom

submission is holy for the feminine and deviant for the masc

dominance is holy for the masculine and deviant for the femme

existing power balances in society are utilized in play

the submissive is to be protected

the submissive is the dominants responsibility and not vice versa

aesthetic perfection is expected of the sub

and many more.

so to say "signs of domination in your social circle" may mean different things to different people. I'll be honest, I don't know what OP meant; this post was awhile back in their blog -- I'm just using this as a way to talk about some of my own hangups, hence why I made my own post instead of responding.

and yeah. if someone in my social circle showed signs of being controlling outside the bedroom, magnifying social inequalities in play, deeming submissives weak and demanding of protection, or expecting aesthetic perfection of submissive seeming people....would I call that evil? um. fuck no.

but I would recognize it as something I can't be a part of. I would form resentment if treated accordingly: as something inherently weak, defenseless, naive, and feminine due to my preference for submission, or hell, for being fucking Asian. cause yeah, that happens.

that said: if someones treating every sub, or every person they decide is submissive, like that...they're a fucking weirdo. their problem.

but there's another side to this. one that affects people who top, people with penises, and people who present as masc who...

may derive euphoria from aligning with a binary role in a kink setting

may genuinely share a desire to be protective and controlling with their partner/s

may face othering or prejudice for seeming like an angry trans woman or a violent butch or an angry Black person

are already only tenuously accepted in queer spaces due to masculine presentation or AGAB or race

so what's to be done?

simply put, don't put your trauma or your bias onto others. I really think that's the answer.

if a particular type of dominance triggers you, remove yourself from the space. unless it's your space, in which case set boundaries.

if you find yourself side eyeing people of a certain AGAB or presentation more than others, consider that this is a you problem.

understand not everything's about you. subs can be just as selfish as doms. just because your friend likes to dominate doesn't mean they want to Dom you. just because they Dom in a way you wouldn't want to be dommed doesn't mean they're wrong.

fuck off with your kink shaming. flat out, unless you are speaking about dynamic abuse or any other type of abuse, you have no grounds to judge the way other d-types or s-types roll. unlearn your purity culture.

learn a thing or two about top drop and/or Dom drop.

and for God's sake...in this hellish 2024 pride month where trans rights are backsliding and other lgbtq+ rights will certainly follow: educate yourself. cishets didn't invent kink. leather daddies have been doing this for decades. lesbian pulp fiction featuring s&m dates really far back. hell, ancient Greeks have art documenting s/m relationships, and y'all know they were gay as shit.

cause I have an inkling that in queer circles this comes from the decrying of evil, icky cishet culture in kink. you are entitled to your boundaries, but your bias and your judgment and your disgust can damn well be kept to yourself. my partner deals with enough guilt over their preferred role, and enough crisis about whether their masculinity comes off as creepy, without neopuritans exacerbating the issue.

and that includes me. I've had to unlearn this shit from the ground up since coming out. I thought coming out was the unlearning, but no: you are not immune to internalized bias. and your masc, amab, intersex, and Black and Brown queer siblings are not immune to the harm you may be perpetuating.

anyway. I'm stoned AF. and prepared to turn off reblogs for this post. lol