#i love this professor and i enjoy the projects but good GOD. i hate the tools so much | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

harunovella · 2 years

Text

embers of a fire ; c.k.

synopsis: you loathed him, you despised him... and you couldn't even truly understand as to why. it was superficial, overly judgmental of you to hate choso kamo... however, a class project forces you to spend time with him. little did you know, the man you couldn't swallow, would be the one man you'd never want to leave your side.

cw: fem!reader, snobbish/holier-than-thou!reader (but she gets better okay!), emo skater boi!choso, college au, enemies (?) to lovers, reader's parents are the source of her bitchiness/aka terrible parents, big bro!choso/lil bro!yuji, kissing, slight angst, love confessions, smut (good ol oral w fem receiving, fingering, no condom...), srry if I miss any! MDNI!

wc: 16k+

an: thank you for 100+ followers! I forgot to announce it when I posted my reiner fic a few weeks ago.... but anyway! okay this is super long and I was considering breaking into two parts but yall are real champs and can def read 16k words lmfao (if not, just yknow like it and finish reading it later). i've got the hots for most of the jjk men and I am OBSESSED with emo goth boy!choso so here you go! title inspo comes from this PHENOMENAL song! enjoy xo

How does one make the most popular and loved girl on campus turn her bright-white, toothy smile upside down into a grimace of pure malice? Pair her up with the loner, emo, goth boy of course!

It was your sophomore year of college which meant getting rid of the same ol' prerequisites everyone and their mother must take during their undergrad. You flew by those classes with phenomenal grades, best of the best, one of the top of your class—and that was a ton of students to compare yourself to. After all, you came from a legacy, a bloodline who (all before you) attended the same university. Hell, there was a hall named after your clan. You were that person. Everyone wanted you or to be you. And you held your head high with the upmost confidence knowing this.

Except there was that one guy... the only person who knew how to get on every single one of your nerves, under your smooth and well maintained skin—Choso Kamo. If anyone else were watching from the outside in, they'd say the man did nothing wrong other than exist and breathe the same air as you, but somehow that irked you.

Everything about him irked you.

From the baggy, dark clothes he wore—shirts two sizes too big and jeans so loose with tears you weren't sure if he did them himself or if it was the style—to the dumb tape (tattoo? you weren't sure) across his nose. The endless amounts of piercings on his ears, septum, and (yes, you somehow managed to notice) his tongue. The god awful tattoos that peeked out from the loose sleeves of his tees when he wasn't wearing a jacket... to the chipped black nail polish on his fingernails and the many odd hairdos he did with his long hair.

Yeah, everything about him rubbed you the wrong way. Especially when he felt the need to skateboard everywhere he went on campus and nearly crashing into you multiple times.

It didn't help that he hung out with two other wackos—one being a pot head who had crackhead energy and the other always wearing the creepiest of grins and smirks as if he were plotting murders in his head.

God, Choso gave you the worst vibes. Of course he'd be assigned to work with you on a project for your Intro to Psychology class. It was a whole get to know someone better assignment that felt so kindergarten. Writing up a report relating to the lessons learned while also becoming friends with someone you didn't know? Hell, that was not going to be you.

You squirmed in your seat at the announcement, rubbing your forehead and sighing. Almost begging Professor Yaga to switch you with anyone... absolutely anyone.

"Don't worry so much," Utahime said as she poked your arm gently.

"I don't get why you're so bothered by his existence," Yuki laughed from behind you, tugging at your hair that sat almost perfectly down your back. "He's kinda hot with that emo vibe he gives off."

"Oh, god," Mei Mei rolled her eyes as she sat on the opposite side of you. "You have such poor taste in men. Bet he has no money."

"Mei Mei," Utahime sighed. "I can switch with you, I've got that knucklehead Satoru as my partner," she nudged her head back in the direction of where the man sat—nearly surrounded by girls fawning over him not so discreetly in the middle of a lecture. You looked over and scrunched up your nose. Wasn't like you had anything against him, actually, he was pretty intelligent and was at your level... he just was a bit too chaotic and always had a flock of girls following him around. It was quite annoying.

"It's fine," you huffed, nearly sinking into your seat before you straightened your back. "Yaga wouldn't allow it anyway. He's stubborn. I'll just... have to... get through it."

"Atta girl," Yuki patted your head as she leaned her chin on her other hand. "And while you're at it, give me his number. I'll gladly snatch him out of your hands once it's all over."

"Doubt I'll be getting anything out of him besides what's needed for the project," you shook your head as you shut your eyes, momentarily meditating to embrace what was to come. Opening your eyes and peeking over your shoulder to spot the man you were paired with, perched in the corner of the auditorium with his focus elsewhere, you cringed. He looked unbothered, completely uninterested and deadpan. He was slouched back in his seat, pen bobbing in between his fingers as his other arm draped over the empty seat beside him. It was then you noticed one of the two delinquents he hung out with was missing, leaving him alone with a talkative Mahito that had been bothering some poor kid beside him about god knows what. Just as you were about to look away, Choso's eyes shifted to meet yours, expression still barren, earning an eye roll from you before you turned your focus back ahead.

"Remember, this will count as 50% of your grade as the remaining 50% depends on how well you do on your exams and attendance. Don't miss class like a certain Getō did," Yaga spoke up. "Class dismissed."

"You know what I want to know?" Yuki started as your group of friends began gathering their things. "Why is it that Suguru and Mahito thought it was a good idea to get stitches as tattoos? Maybe that's what Choso is hiding under the nose tape."

"I thought they drew it on themselves?" Utahime furrowed her eyebrows.

"From what I've heard, they both lost a bet to Choso and had to get those god awful tattoos," Mei Mei spoke as she brushed some of her hair over her shoulder.

You, however, were in your own world. Their conversation went in one ear and out the other as you constantly found yourself stealing glimpses of Choso, annoyance clear in your expression. Anyone but him, really... Why did you have to be paired with him? You probably would've taken Suguru instead if he hadn't skipped. He used to be somewhat normal from what you remember. Back when he was best friends with Shoko and Satoru. You weren't sure what happened there but, to be fair, you didn't care much. Satoru was in his own world, enjoying the constant ego boosts and Shoko hung out with the medical students. You supposed they all went their separate ways.

Just as you were deep in thought, not realizing where you were staring or what you were doing, a masculine, monotone voice startled you. "If you're so intrigued, just take a picture of me."

Blinking a few times before gasping, you looked over to see Choso had been a few steps higher than you, leaning in to speak before walking past you with an indifferent expression on his face. As if he didn't just insult you, making you seem like you were interested in him. "As if!" You huffed, earning a few looks from your girlfriends. "It'd break my poor camera."

"Good one!" A sudden laugh made you jump again in your spot as Mahito patted your head before following Choso.

Swatting him away before running your fingers through your hair, you glared at the two who walked across the auditorium, towards the exit. "Jerks..." you mumbled before snatching your bag and lifting up your chin.

"They really get under your skin, huh?" Yuki pointed out.

"They're beneath me, that's all." With a wave of your hand and a flip your hair, you held yourself high and mighty before exiting the class. Yeah, you were prissy and a bit obnoxious but, hey, that's what everyone loved about you. And their opinions mattered the most... right?

Choso never understood your hatred towards him. Actually, he didn't seem to care. Plenty of people hated him for whatever pathetic, judgmental reasons—and you probably the same—but there was something different about you. He couldn't quite put a finger on it, but it definitely felt like you were hiding something from him. From everyone.

In all honesty, you had him intrigued. What was it about you that was sounding sirens in his head? You dressed like you were trying to be Elle Woods, in pinks and pastels. You did your hair so neat and perfect—nothing like his chaotic nest. You always held your head high, wore this sweet perfume that was near nauseating. You drove a car he definitely couldn't afford. He was sure you were a spoiled brat of some rich entrepreneur—but he couldn't say you didn't deserve your class spot. Truly, you were intelligent; bright in all ways possible. That, he'd give you credit for. However, your personality? That way of being, so prim and posh? Something wasn't right. As if you were forced to be this way with all the eyes on you.

And maybe that's why he was so "excited" to be your partner for this assignment. He was going to figure it out, what it was that was hidden behind the makeup and hair pins, amongst those designer outfits and manicured nails. Who you truly were, deep inside.

It also didn't help that one day when he was skateboarding around campus to get from point A to point B, he so happened to pass by your car where you were sort of blasting nu metal from an artist he vaguely recognized. All alone, singing—practically screaming—in a secluded parking lot where you believed no one would see you.

Yeah, you definitely were hiding something from everyone.

Choso departed from Mahito after telling him he was going to stay behind to plan meet ups with you—which, in turn, got some vulgar remark from Mahito. The man with a twisted grin saying how you really needed a good lay and that he hoped Choso would be that. Choso, who was very used to Mahito's unfiltered mouth, didn't even bat an eyelash, just dismissed his friend and leaned against a wall.

"Mei Mei and I gotta split, we have to meet up with Shoko," Utahime spoke as you and your group piled out of the auditorium.

"And I've gotta go tutor Todo!" Yuki waved as she turned the opposite way, leaving you on your own. You didn't mind, wasn't like you didn't have a friend—or at least an acquaintance—in every corner. Actually, you were more than likely going to call up Kiyotaka to see if he wanted to meet you in the library for your weekly study sessions as you both were taking an economics class.

However, that thought went out the door when your focus landed on your beloved goth. In all his emo glory, leaning against a wall with one door propped up against it, you couldn't help but eye him from head to toe. Now that he was standing, you could truly see how big his shirt was on him and how much he really loved the color black. You were amazed he wasn't wearing black lipstick to top it all off. Maybe that was crossing the line for him. Who knows.

Realizing you were staring for much too long—and probably blocking the doorway—you sighed and approached him. "Let's get this over with."

Lifting his eyes from his phone as he scrolled through his socials, meeting your own—disinterested—pair, Choso stood straight with a huff before speaking, "it won't take us one hour to complete this assignment. We have weeks worth of work to do."

"So?" You then crossed your arms.

"So... miss top of her class, you can't half-ass this work. No matter how much you hate me," he said with tired eyes—a look he always carried. You wondered if he ever slept. He wondered if you still had your little heavy metal sessions.

The two of you stared at one another for longer than you should've. You let out a small scoff before rolling your eyes, "whatever. We can meet up for an hour daily. I think that'll be my limit for how long I can endure your demonic aura."

Eyeing you as you had turned your head to the side stubbornly, a small excuse of a laugh left his lips, "I'm not into satanism. Don't worry, Barbie doll, I'm not going to sacrifice you to some nonexistent deity."

Twitching at the nickname he gave you, you sighed and straightened your posture. He knew how to irk you. "Sure, whatever. Then why do you wear upside down crosses?"

"It's for the aesthetic, obviously," he said as if you should've known that. "Same reason why you love to wear those big pearls on your ears, or that scarf with that plaid pattern. Or even those red bottom heels," Choso listed as you found your cheeks heating up. Was he keeping tabs on you? Was he paying the much attention to what you wore? And why were you blushing?! "You call that fashion, I call this fashion," he said as he flicked the earring that dangled from his right ear.

"Creep," you mumbled before reaching into your bag and pulling out a small journal. Removing the pen from it and writing down something, you tore the piece and folded it neatly before handing it over to him, dropping it into his palm as he extended his hand out. "That's my address. Don't go about stalking me and seeing what I'm wearing. Be there at 8PM, no later. We can do this every Monday through Thursday for one hour. Don't bother me from outside that one hour. Got it?"

Looking at his palm, then down at you, he slid it in his back pocket before answering, "sure."

"Perfect! Now you can leave me be. And stop noting what I wear, loser," you stuck your tongue out before walking away. Yeah, you were mature. It just didn't help that you needed to get out of there, and fast. For some reason, your face felt hot and your heart was racing. You were afraid you were going to start stuttering if you stayed any longer. Why was he so nonchalant? And, damn, why did he smell so good?! You weren't even trying to sniff him, but his cologne knocked right into you. Also, why the hell was he so observant of what you wore? He had no right!

As if.... you weren't the same towards him.

He didn't need to know that.

8PM on the dot. You heard someone knock on your front door, knowing very well it was Choso. You were home alone that evening—as you almost always were as your parents were too busy to focus on their only daughter. You were in the midst of tidying your room—making sure nothing too secretive was lying around—before you made your way downstairs, and to your front door. Sucking in a deep breath and forcing your best scowl, you opened the front door.

In all honesty, the hours that lead up to Choso's arrival were nerve wracking. You weren't sure why. Nothing out of this world, wasn't like he was anyone impressive. Yet you put more effort into your look than you should've for just lounging in your home and working on an assignment. You told yourself it was just how you were. You always looked your best, even at home. Even when you were in those little, pink shorts and an oversized sweater with a cartoon character on it that made you look smaller. It was the first thing Choso noticed when you opened the door—besides the fact that you had subtle makeup and your hair in two little space buns... reminding him too much of his own hairdo.

But, he knew better than to point that out. You'd chew him out.

"Still living with your parents?" He pointed out, though you were sure it wasn't a question and rather a statement.

"So?" You narrowed your eyes. "No point in living in the dorms when I live close to the university. Not everyone lives in a shoe box for an apartment," you crossed your arms as Choso simply blinked.

"And you know where I live because—"

"I— I don't!" You blushed. "I just assumed!"

A subtle grin on his lips as he stood at your door, one hand gripped on the strap of his backpack while the other was deep in the pocket of his grey sweats. So he did own a color outside of black? "And I'm the creepy one."

Snapping your eyes up from the spot they had landed on—definitely not the outline of his dick in his sweats—you hissed, "shut up."

"Can I come in? Or are we going to just stay here and banter?" He asked as you sucked in a deep breath, taking a step to a side and gesturing for him to enter. Without hesitation, he did so. Eyeing his surroundings. The formal living room with modern couches and decor, a dining table and several art pieces hung about. A few framed family photos spotted on the coffee table. It was quite... minimal for a home with a family. Much too clean and pristine. He was starting to understand why you were the way you are.

"Do you want... water or something," you grumbled as you offered, noticing how Choso was curiously studying your home.

"Nah, I've got my own bottle in my bag," he said before spotting your staircase. "Where're we gonna do this?"

Sucking in a deep breath, you pointed upward, "my room." Leading the way towards and up the stairs, you stopped on the second step before turning to look down at him, "don't even think about stealing anything or taking photos. Got it?" You pointed at him as he lifted his hands up in defense before you hummed, turning and treading up the steps.

"I was thinking about stealing one of your panties, but now that you say that—"

"Ugh, gross!" You exclaimed, shaking your head as your steps became stomps. "I wouldn't even doubt it..."

Slightly grinning to himself as he followed you, Choso came to a stop at your doorway as he eyed your bedroom. It was exactly as he expected. Pink... so pink... pink and white with cute things everywhere. Yet, so organized and cleaned up. Like... an unused children's room. This can't possibly be your happy space. So many plushies stuffed on your bed? Sanrio decorations on your desk? A vanity filled with endless makeup products? Well, maybe it was your happy spot. But... it felt like this was some experimental room you were tossed in and put under supervision to see if they could make you the perfect girl.

There had to be something hidden amongst all the bubblegum decor. Something that hinted to the real you.

"Do I sit in all those or in that..." Choso pointed at your bed covered in plush toys or your pink bean bag that sat on a white, fluffy rug. God, how could you even breathe in here?

"You can sit here," You corrected, pulling out your desk chair before you sat in the sea of teddy bears, somehow not disrupting the layout. As if there was a spot specifically for you. "You've got one hour, emo boy."

"Right," Choso sighed as he settled into the white chair.

Lifting your eyes from your laptop as you had flipped it open, you couldn't help but stifle a laugh. He stuck out of your room like a sore thumb. So out of place... Like a black rose amongst a bed of pink. For a moment, you thought it was cute. For a moment. "I'll start with the introductions," you spoke up after nearly clearing your throat from words that weren't uttered but thought out.

Reaching into his bag and pulling out his laptop, Choso looked at you for a moment to see you focused on your screen before his eyes darted around your room, looking for anything off. Your mattress, pillow... maybe behind your dresser or underneath your bean bag. Something hidden. You must've kept a secret collection of records somewhere. Maybe even black band tees. "Sure..."

You started asking the basic introductory questions: full name, where you were born, how old are you, what are you studying... so on and so forth. It was child's play. You wondered how Professor Yaga made this assignment so lengthy when it could've been completed with twenty questions or less. You assumed it was something psychological, suited for the class.

Typing out Choso's answers, he then started asking you the same ones, you answering without missing a beat—or making eye contact. "Lastly, what's your favorite heavy metal band?"

Feeling your lips part, you instantly sealed them as you lifted your focus and shot him a look. "That so is not a question!" You exclaimed, glaring.

Looking at you with a subtle smirk, Choso shrugged, "last one is a freebie for the introduction. You asked me why I am so emo, so I thought it was fair I asked you something I was curious about."

"First of all, you actually are emo. Second of all, I do not listen to heavy metal music. I have no idea where the hell you pulled that out of," you narrowed your eyes, but Choso only leaned back in the desk chair and sighed. "What?"

"Your little head banging sessions in your car beg to differ," Choso said as you blinked, eyes gradually widening as you instantly tossed your laptop onto your stuffed toys before standing to your feet. "The kitten has claws—"

"I don't know what you are talking about but you need to stop stalking me," you pointed your finger at him.

Lifting his hands up in defense, he sighed, "I don't know why you're being so defensive. If it isn't true, if I'm lying, you wouldn't care. But I'm not lying, I know what I saw. You haven't even denied it."

Clenching your jaw as your glared down at him, you pushed your hand against his laptop and shut it as your other hand settled on your hip, "sure, I listen to alternative music that isn't up to my quote unquote standards when no one is around. Sure, I love to scream and bang my head to release my inner frustrations through heavy metal. However, do you think anyone would believe you if you started spreading word? No, they wouldn't, because that's unlike me. I wouldn't do any of that," you said with your eyes still squinted. "Nice try, Choso."

"I have no intentions on spreading rumors—sorry, facts—about you. Actually, with me being the only one to know this, it means I was right about you," he said, looking up at you with that bored expression he so gracefully wore.

Arching an eyebrow, you leaned towards him, "right about what?"

A small smile appeared on his lips as he sat up, looking you in the eyes, "that you aren't who you seem. That all of this," he gestured to your room, "is nothing but a cloaking device forced upon you to hide who you really are. You're just a poor princess trapped in her tower of pink lies. Tell me I'm wrong."

Eyeing him as you kept your focus locked on his, taking in deep breaths, you nearly bit your tongue off. "You are so wrong."

Choso was not wrong. Nowhere near wrong. Actually, he was burning hot with his assumptions and theories and intuition. You hated that. Yet, you couldn't avoid him. He was your partner and you weren't going to fail an introductory class. Damn that man.

You continued your daily meet ups at your place—sometimes at the library if you knew your parents would be home. Those happened seldom, and Choso didn't even have to ask to know why there was a change in environment. He was well aware your parents would despise him if they saw him. Now a week into your project, Choso was slowly learning more about you, more than what you put out. He was well aware that you had both beauty and brains, he wasn't going to lie, he had eyes. However, he started noticing the little cracks. The holes in you that were created by your own pillars—your parents. They wanted you you be the perfect little girl for them. Since you were the only child, they were so fixated on you and your achievements.

Probably why you had all those trophies from various competitions on a shelf in your home.

You didn't enjoy it, you didn't have to tell him for him to know. He saw it in your eyes whenever you lied and said you had fun competing as a child. (In reality, he was sure you wanted an actual fun childhood.)

It was obvious why you were the way you were. They were carving you out, shaping you the way they wanted. Not how you did.

And Choso was sure, if he pushed hard enough, he'd get you to tip over and break into a million pieces. Pull yourself back together, and bring out a better you. The real you.

Of course, that is once he gets on your good side.

"So how are things with you two?" Yuki asked as the two of you walked along the campus, leaving one of your shared classes. "I mean, you've hardly complained about him since we started working on the project."

Sighing as you held your journal against your chest, you looked off to the side. "He's— He's... there..."

"There?" She asked with a small snicker. "What the hell does that mean? Hey! You still haven't given me his number!"

"I'll give it to you later," you mumbled, looking up at the sky now, eyeing the scattered clouds and the distant birds flying below them.

"Later? Oh! So you did manage to get it, huh?" Yuki grinned, nudging you with her elbow.

"Yeah, a few meet ups in, solely to let him know where to meet up. Can't have my parents seeing him," you said, thinking about the reaction your parents would have if they saw Choso in your room. Oh, how they'd panic. Your father would lose his mind and your mother would—without a doubt—pass out. The thought made you chuckle.

"What's so funny?" The blonde beside you asked, eyeing you with an arched eyebrow.

"Nothing..." you hummed.

"Hmm..." studying you, Yuki then crossed her arms. "So, you've got a crush on him—"

Coming to a complete stop, you turned and eyed her, "excuse me? Repeat yourself? Deranged witch!"

"There she is!" Yuki pointed with a laugh. "For a second I thought I lost you there! You weren't being so bitchy—"

"Shut up," you rolled your eyes, turning back in your spot, continuing to walk. "I do not have a crush on him, where the hell did you get that from?"

"You haven't complained about him once and, well, you are his partner still... you haven't managed to convince Yaga to switch you. And don't give me the whole he won't bullshit, we all know everyone in the faculty and staff adore you. So, what's up? What's got you so... chill? You aren't even fuming like you normally would. C'mon, talk to me. You know I'm the best person to confess to," Yuki grinned with a flip of her hair.

Pinching the bridge of your nose, you shook your head, "there's nothing. We just meet up for an hour, do our work, then go our separate ways."

"So the assignment isn't bringing you two close? I know for a fact it's got 'hime and 'toru fu—"

Lifting a finger, you shook your head, "don't you finish that sentence. Please." Watching her lift her hands up in defense, you shook your head. "He's a hard man to open up. His responses are minimal and almost cryptic. He doesn't speak much when it comes to himself, but he seems very interested in me. Like he wants to unravel me. Creepy in my opinion but... whatever. If it's getting me an A, I'll do whatever."

Watching you wave your hand dismissively, Yuki tilted her head with a small grin, "unravel you, huh? Like... get in your panties—"

A gasp left you as your eyes widened. "Yuki, shut up!" You snapped. "No, it's like— he just wants to get to the deepest bits about me! Not that!"

"Deepest bits, like, having his thick, long, di—"

"I'm walking away now!" You said as you picked up your pace, only to hear her laughing. Yuki knew how to get under your skin, but not in a spiteful way. She just liked to bug you, your reactions were golden, so she could only imagine how you were when you were with Choso.

In all honesty, as much as she loved pestering you for his number, she couldn't help but think... you two would actually be quite the power couple. There was something about opposites attracting that made her swoon, especially when it was her little, preppy, best friend and a very handsome, depressed looking, goth boy. The image of you two being together made her smirk. She needed to do something about it.

Walking towards your car as you let out a huff of annoyance, you pulled your keys out from your bag and eyed your surroundings for a moment. Secluded. Just like how you liked it. This was why you always parked here, towards the back of the campus near the history wing. Not many people ventured this way, it was the perfect hideaway.

Unlocking your car and slipping inside, you set the keys in the ignition and plugged your phone in. Taking in a deep breath as you settled in your seat after tapping your favorite playlist, you started bobbing your head to the music. Then, before you knew it—as the rhythm was flowing through you—you started singing (screaming?) along. You were so into it that you nearly forgot your surroundings. That is until your eyes landed on your favorite loner.

There, standing across the way on the sidewalk with one hand clutched onto his skateboard and the other holding his cigarette in between his index and thumb, was Choso. Watching you with a smirk on his lips. When did he get there? How did you not notice? You weren't even a song into the playlist!

With a huff, you lowered the volume and shoved your door open, not bothering to shut it as you stomped over towards the stoic man. He simply stood there, taking a drag and puffing air as you came up, practically barring your fangs. It was cute to him, you looked like an angry kitten. "You!" You pointed as Choso simply took another drag.

"Yeah," he breathed, watching as you stopped before him, just before the curb as he stood towering before you with the additional inches from the sidewalk.

"Where— Where the hell did you come from?!" You shrieked.

"My mother's—"

"No! I didn't see anyone!" You whined as Choso sighed, taking one last inhale from his cigarette before putting it out.

"What? Bummed someone knows you have little therapeutic head banging sessions?" He slightly tilted his head. It was then you noticed his hair was down, in all it's disarray glory, sat beneath a dark grey bucket hat. He wore a baggy tee again, a plain black one and matching sweats. His feet covered in beat up converse this time around. You were so deep in your studying—gawking—that Choso cleared his throat.

Snapping out of it, you looked up at him again and frowned, arms folded as you stomped a foot pathetically, "what is it that you want from me?!"

"Nothing, really," he shrugged. "Just that you quit being someone you're not. Y'know, for someone who judges others for being their true selves."

Fighting the urge to gasp, you bit your tongue, instead, grabbing his hand and yanking him. You pulled him along to your car, opening the passenger door and nearly shoving him inside. Shutting the door behind you, you then rounded the car and took the drivers seat. With the sound of the car locking, you turned up the volume again and sat there with your arms crossed. Your focus was straight ahead as Choso took a minute to take in his surroundings. Your car—a cute, white, Mini Cooper—smelled like spring days. Nothing out of place, cleaned as if you've never used the car before. You had a little dancing flower on your dashboard and a pink ribbon wrapped around your mirror into a bow. Yet, the music emitting from within did not match the interior.

Eyeing the screen before him, he then leaned back into the seat, recognizing the artist as one he listened to religiously. "So, are you kidnapping me?" He asked, turning his attention ahead, eyes aimlessly gazing around his surroundings.

"No," was all you said before raising the volume up. "I know you won't say anything, no one would believe you anyway." Feeling his eyes on you, you bit your inner cheek before mumbling, "and it's nice... having someone to enjoy this with..."

Seeing the way you stubbornly kept your focus anywhere but on him, Choso couldn't help but tease you, "I think you're finally getting soft on me—"

"Don't get used to it!" You snapped, now looking and pointing at him.

Lifting his hands up in defense, Choso looked ahead once again with a small sigh, "is it okay if you go over my place tonight?"

Blinking, your eyebrows narrowed, "why?"

"It's personal," was all he said, voice lower than before. You couldn't help but frown. Personal? "I can't leave home tonight."

"Oh... Kay..." You trailed, studying him and seeing how his demeanor changed, no longer in a teasing mood. "Fine. Since you were such nice company, I'll allow it."

Rolling his eyes, Choso couldn't help but feel a twitch of a smile grow on his lips, "whatever. I'll text you my address."

"Apartment 310..." you sighed, eyeing the grey door before you decorated in nothing but a peephole and... an odd decoration hanging from the door knob. Something resembling that of a child's creation in arts and craft class. You'd have to ask Choso about that—

The sound of heavy, rapid footsteps and excited yelling was heard from the other side of the door, causing you to lean in with furrowed brows. Did he have company? Or was that a really loud TV? Knocking on the door as you had leaned back and stood straight, you heard the heavy footsteps once again—except this time approaching. Seeing the door swing open, your eyes widened.

"What—" seeing no one before you, no sign of Choso, you tilted your head. "Who—" lowering your focus, a pair of big, bright eyes gazed up at you. A little boy, easily 4 or 5, stood before you with a look of awe. His pink hair was messy—ruffled in different directions, as he wore a hoodie with tiger ears and matching shorts plus white socks covering his tiny feet. "Oh... this must be the wrong place... I'm sorry—"

"Yuji! What did I tell you about opening the door?!" Hearing a familiar voice call out—much more intense than you had ever heard of before, you turned your head to see Choso approaching. However, the sounds of whimpering caught your attention as the little boy—which you now learned was named Yuji—was tearing up. "Oh no... I'm sorry, I didn't—" kneeling before the little boy and lifting him in his arms, Choso rubbed his tiny back. "I didn't mean to scare you. But, please, listen to me, okay?"

"O— kay..." the little boy sniffled.

Watching this all unfold, eyes wide in shock, you shook your head and swallowed. What... just happened? Who was this little boy? And why did the sight before you—Choso being so gentle—make your insides twist? "Umm..."

"Come in," Choso nudged his head for you to follow. You, closing the door behind you, did so. He lead you to the living room (which was really just a couple of steps ahead of you) as he sat on the couch, settling the little boy down and wiping his tears as you slowly sat besides the older man. "You can play for thirty more minutes but you must clean and put away all your toys and get ready for bed after, okay?"

"Mhm!" Yuji nodded his head in excitement, only to turn his head to look at you, gasping as he nearly had forgotten you were there. "Choco, is this your girlfriend?" The little boy asked, suddenly all giddy, causing your heart to skip a beat as your eyes widened. Girlfriend?!

"No, she's just a classmate," Choso clarified as you frowned, slightly offended for whatever insane reason. As if you should be insulted by that! Why did he answer so casually? How was he always so calm?! "Why don't you introduce yourself?"

"Okay!" The little boy exclaimed, taking quick steps to stand before you, "hi! My name is Yuji Itadori!"

Blinking a few times, looking down at his tiny hand as it was extended towards you, you took it in your own and gently shook it. "Hi, Yuji... I'm—"

"I know who you are!" He gasped, saying your name as he pointed at you while jumping. "Yeah! That's you! Choco talks—"

"Okay, Jiji, that's enough, go play with your toys," Choso shooed him as Yuji frowned, then gave the older man a small glare before stomping away, mumbling to himself.

Letting out a small breath, you looked at Choso, "you're a young father... he must look a lot like his mom."

"I'm not his dad," Choso clarified, shaking his head as he was covering his mouth, still processing what Yuji was about to say. With a deep breath, he then leaned back against the couch, "his my little brother. Half brother, actually, but... yeah. I'm his legal guardian."

Eyeing Choso as he had yet to look at you, almost as if he were deep in thought, you simply nodded. This must've been what was personal. His little brother, Yuji. "Oh... I see." Not wanting to press, you opened your bag and pulled out your laptop to get ready for your hour session. Just before you did, you gave him one look, realizing he was still dressed similarly to earlier—hair down, a t-shirt and sweats, but now no sneakers... only socks. Turning back to your laptop, Choso did the same as he lifted his from the coffee table before him, getting straight to work.

Thirty minutes had passed and Choso excused himself for a moment, mentioning how he had to make sure Yuji put himself to bed. As he did that, you continued your work, even if your mind was wandering off to uncharted waters. Thoughts of Choso... Choso being a fatherly figure. Again, it was stirring something unwanted within you. You had to force yourself to think about something else.

That is, of course, until a shadow casted upon you. You looked up, behind you to see Choso looking down at you. A small yelp left you as you gulped, quickly turning your attention away as you noticed Yuji standing beside him—hand in hand with Choso. "Oh?" You blinked as the little boy smiled. You realized he was now dressed in his pajama—a cute, dark blue set, with little animals scattered around it.

"I wanted to say good night! So... good night!" He waved with his free hand.

"Good night, Yuji. It was nice meeting you," you smiled back at him before Choso guided him back to his room. The grin on your lips wouldn't fade away, you had to admit, Yuji was adorable.

The cutest kid you've ever met. Hearing distant mumbling, your curiosity got the best of you as you settled your laptop onto the coffee table and stood up. Quietly walking to the small hallway where the two bedrooms and bathroom sat, you carefully peeked over. Choso was kneeling before Yuji's bed, reading a bedtime story. You could see the little boy was fighting sleep as his eyes fluttered closed. Choso noticed this, too. Standing up and making sure all of the plush toys were surrounding him—the way his little brother liked it—Choso leaned in and kissed his forehead good night before gently caressing his hair.

Your heart was racing. You hadn't noticed it. Forcing yourself to look away and walk back to your spot on the couch, you found yourself nibbling on your bottom lip. Trying to focus on your work, you couldn't seem to get passed the single word you typed out. The images of Choso caressing Yuji's back, wiping his tears, holding his hand... and tucking him in... it made you feel so uneasy. It made your heart race. It made your face heat up.

"Okay, he's asleep," Choso said, snapping out of your thoughts as you clinched. He noticed but stayed silent.

"I can keep meeting you here if you need me to," you said, eyes practically glued to your screen, refusing to look up at him. You knew if you looked him in the eye you'd do something foolish. Probably even blush.

"I normally have a babysitter if he doesn't have his evening karate class... but money has been getting tight," he confessed, causing you to look up at him as he reached for his laptop and sat back down. You couldn't help but feel sympathetic. As much as you weren't fond of Choso—for petty reasons—you could only imagine how much he was struggling to raise a little boy on his own.

"It's okay, you don't need to explain," you said, "I like Yuji. He seems like a really sweet boy."

Looking at you, Choso wore a subtle smirk, "he's my bloodline."

"Whatever," you playfully rolled your eyes. "He's innocent and I like his hair."

"You don't like mine?" Choso slightly tilted his head, letting the strands fall to a side. You couldn't help but smile, shaking your head. "No? Wow. Is it because it's not pink?"

Letting out a small laugh, you reached over to touch his hair without thinking. You wrapped some around your finger, twirling it before letting it fall loose, "it's not so bad..."

"I'll take that as a compliment."

Eyeing one another as a comfortable silence fell between the two of you, you felt your heart begin to race the more you looked at him. Shyly looking away, you cleared your throat. "Let's finish today's work."

Studying you and the subtle blush that tinted your cheeks, Choso nodded. "Yeah."

It was becoming more and more apparent to Choso how much you were softening up to him. Maybe it was because you saw a different side of him after your first visit to his place... or maybe you just wanted to be seen as a saint in little Yuji's eyes. Whatever it may be, you weren't so easily agitated anymore. It caught him off guard when you started giving him small smiles—in which his would subtly reciprocate. He had to test his waters, of course. Maybe you were smiling to someone behind him? But no, it was towards him.

Then, you started inviting him to your little in-car-concerts. He would recommend you music that you'd soon find yourself playing on repeat while alone or in the comfort of your earphones. Other times, you'd recommend him songs in which he'd learn the lyrics to almost the very next day—Choso wouldn't admit it to you, but he kind of wanted you to be impressed. And, you were.

Choso also noticed just how attached his little brother grew to you. Every visit you made for your hourly sessions, you found yourself coming earlier and earlier to spend time with the little boy. He had always asked you to play with him or to watch his favorite movie, but you had told him you couldn't while working on your project, so, of course—in his infinite wisdom—little Yuji suggested you come earlier. And you did.

There was even a routine you started with the duo: helping out Yuji to sleep, even if Choso insisted You didn't have to (you had to, solely because Yuji begged you to... and you did want to, too).

You were... changing, to say the least; and Choso wouldn't complain nor want to stop it.

However, your parents began to notice.

It wasn't as subtle as you thought. You were well aware of the change in demeanor you had. You were nicer to those you once were quite bitchy to. You weren't so stuck up nor snobbish—as Yuki liked to point out—and you were actually associating yourself with others you once saw beneath you.

This... wasn't a good look, at least, not in your parents eyes.

"Why are you always sneaking away?" Your mother had asked. An odd question coming from her when she nor your father were never around. "Are you secretly dating someone?!"

Growing wide eyed, you shook your head. "No? I have an assignment I've been working on with a partner. We meet up together."

"Uh huh," your mother crossed her arms. "Don't think we don't notice these changes," she gestured at your figure. "Your attitude is becoming much too laid back and care free. You aren't on time like you used to be and you are becoming careless with your fashion! Are you on drugs?!"

"Mom! Of course not?!" You shrieked, narrowing your eyebrows at her accusation. "I'm not changing, I'm still me!"

"Yeah? Is that so?" Walking around the kitchen counter and pulling out something, your eyes widened at the sight of your (what once was hidden) vinyl records. "Satanic music!" She waved them as she approached you again, then handing them to your father who stood beside her. "I will not tolerate this!"

Watching your father snap the records, a sharp gasp left your lips as your eyes instantly welled up in tears. "That— That isn't satanic music! That's just music! It was a gift! How could you?!" You cried out as your body trembled at the broken pieces on the ground. A gift Choso had given you during one of your sessions after remembering you had a record player.

"You think we don't know what the hell this is?!" Your father finally spoke, shaking the two pieces in his hands. "You, sneaking around behind our backs?! You probably have been smoking pot in your room—"

"I'm not! It's just music, for heaven's sake—"

"Don't you raise your voice!" Your father snapped as you hiccuped.

"You— You two are being ridiculous! Over music?! You broke a gift someone important gave to me!" You exclaimed, chest heaving as the anger and rage boiled up within you. You were blinded that you hadn't realize the confession you made, too focused on the fact that they had destroyed the practically brand new vinyl you were afraid to touch because you wanted to preserve them. Yet, that went out the window. "All because you're too scared your perfect daughter isn't all about unicorns and rainbows anymore because she's a damn adult! I'm sick and tired of being someone you want me to be that I'm not!"

Hearing them scoff your name, you shook your head and turned to grab your keys, ignoring their yells as you stormed off. You didn't look back, slamming the main door of your home behind you before rushing into your car and speeding off. Your vision was blurred from the endless tears as you continuously wiped them away. You didn't seem to care about speed limits or being pulled over, you just wanted to get away as far as possible.

And as far as possible was at Choso's.

You found yourself crying into his chest the moment he had opened the door. He lead you to his couch—that you grew familiar with—and settled you there before coming back with tissues and water. He wiped your tears as you explained what happened, whimpering along the way as Choso frowned for you. The more he learned about you, the more he knew you were just a bystander of your parents ruthless grip. He was sure the person you had been becoming around him was the woman inside begging for freedom... and to see you cry like this? Sobbing over the gifts he gave you and snap at your parents? His heart was aching.

At some point, a worried Yuji came waddling in with a plush toy—one you learned to be his favorite—as he handed it to you for comfort. Claiming it made him feel better when he was sad. You thanked the little boy as you caressed his cheek before hugging his tiny body. He couldn't help but stay lingering, sitting beside you in hopes you'd feel better.

"You're welcome to come over whenever you want," Choso offered. "Even if I'm not here, I have a spare key hidden under my front mat. Not wise, I know, but things happen."

Smiling at him as you sipped at the water Choso had handed you, you shook your head, "I couldn't... I don't want to intrude."

"Believe me, you're not," he said, looking you in the eyes with a worried expression. "I rather you feel safe and wanted here than anxious and afraid in what's supposed to be your own home."

Looking down for a moment at the stuffed Spider-Man in your hold, you then looked over at Choso, "thank you."

"You can sleep over!" Yuji exclaimed as he bounced in his spot. "We can watch a movie and—and eat popcorn!"

Looking over at the eager, little boy, you let out a soft chuckle, "okay, Jiji." Seeing him clap in excitement, he pushed himself off the couch and rushed away to his room.

"I'll get you something to sleep in, and you can stay in my bed," Choso stood as you turned your attention to him, watching him walk away. Before you could protest, he waved his hand, "don't worry about it. I've fallen asleep plenty on the couch with Yuji."

Choso's clothes were even baggier on you. The shirt was a dress and the sweats he offered hung so loosely you had to tie them up with a spare hair tie. However, you didn't seem to mind. They were comfortable and they... smelled like him. You hated to admit it, but the times you've got whiffs of him, you indulged. He smelled so good, like fresh laundry. There was a hint of spice, maybe the subtle cologne he used or the possibility that he liked his home smelling like the fall. Whatever it was, it filled your senses as you lied on his bed and it... made you feel safe.

After watching a movie with Yuji—which he chose to be Big Hero 6–you retired for the night. Choso gave you brand new toiletries to use as needed as well as clothes, telling you to feel free and use whatever you needed. It made you feel... wanted. You hadn't felt like this in so long. Sure, your friends were wonderful people, but even then you hadn't felt like this. You couldn't quite describe it, really. Besides the feeling of being noticed and needed, even if it was subtle, there was that thing bubbling within you that only Choso ignited.

Turning on your side and seeing the analog alarm clock on his bedside table, you sighed. It was half past midnight and, for some reason, you couldn't sleep. Maybe it was being in someone else's bed. Maybe it was your parent's words. Whatever it was, it had you getting up and wrapping a throw over your body as you aimed for the living room.

Gently nudging Choso as he seemed sound asleep, resting on his back as he took the entire length (and more) of the couch, you frowned. "Choso..." You whispered.

Mumbling and groaning, the sound made you blush as he peeked an eye, "what is it?"

"Sorry... I can't sleep..." you confessed. "Umm... can you... can you come back to bed with me? Maybe having someone there will make me feel at ease..."

Rubbing his eyes as he sat up, Choso grabbed the pillow he slept with and tossed the blanket over the cushions before following you to his room without a word. Maybe it was because he was half asleep, but he so easily slipped into his bed, lifted the sheets for you to join him, and casually spooned you from behind. You were flustered at first—of course! But then you eased into his warmth with a pleasant sigh as you closed your eyes.

Only to open them at the sound of faint whimpering.

Sitting up, you looked around the room, only to see Yuji standing at the foot of the bed—one arm wrapped around his Spider-Man plush as his other had his tiny hand balled into a fist, rubbing his eye. "Yuji?" You quietly called to him. "What's the matter?"

"Nightmare..." he pouts. "Choco let's me sleep with him when I have them..."

"Oh," looking over at Choso and seeing he was dead asleep, you looked back at Yuji. A soft smile graced your lips before you waved a hand for him to join you. "C'mon, the more, the merrier."

Crawling up to you as you helped settle him in between you and Choso, you pulled the quilt over the two of you before petting his hair, telling him to sleep well. That he was safe.

Just like you.

Morning had come and you woke up to both Yuji and Choso gone from the bed. You went to do your (simplified) morning routine as you washed your face and brushed your teeth. Once exiting the room, you were greeted with breakfast—Yuji happily nomming away as Choso looked as if he were about to leave somewhere.

"Morning," you greeted as Yuji patted the seat beside him—in which a full plate of food sat. "Where you headed off to?" Eyeing Choso and seeing he was in a pair of black jeans and a band tee—with his beloved Doc Marten's and hair in its spiked buns—you tilted your head.

"I've got work," he said. You recalled him mentioning he worked at a record shop (see broken vinyls that were once your prized possession from him). "I have to take Yuji to a family friend to babysit—"

"Oh, let me," you offered. "It's the least I could do. Let it be my thank you," you nodded. "I'd have to get some stuff from my place but I can bring him with me. I'm sure Yuji wouldn't mind."

Nodding his head eagerly, Choso looked at his little brother, then you, "alright, I guess that's okay. I'll have to let Nanami know."

"Nanamin will get why!" Yuji waved his tiny hand. "Choco's pretty friend will babysit! She's now Yuji's best friend!"

"What about Megumi and Nobara?" Choso asked as he leaned over Yuji to steal some of his bacon, earning a swat from the little boy.

"They— They are!" He exclaimed. "But now I have an older best friend!"

Smiling at them, you gave Yuji's cheek a gentle pinch, "I'd happily be your best friend."

"Yay!" He clapped before sticking his tongue out at Choso.

"Okay, okay," Choso waved a hand. "I'll go ahead and put his car seat in your car so you have it ready."

"Okay, thanks," you said as you began to eat. You couldn't help but feel excited to spend the day with Yuji... as odd as that sounded. He was an entertaining little boy and he really seemed to love you like his own blood.

"Okay, Yuji," You said as the little boy gawked at the size of your home, calling it a castle. You showed him around the house, even your backyard, before you made your way up to your room. "I'm going to shower and then we can head back to your home, okay?"

"Okay!" Yuji's muffled voice called out as he had now found himself stuffed in the horde of plush toys on your bed. He couldn't help but toss himself in it the moment he saw them all. You didn't mind, whatever made the boy happy.

"Stay there, alright?" You pointed as he rolled over and nodded, only to spot a pink dog. "Yeah, has your color, huh?"

"Same hair!" He pointed at his head, earning a sweet chuckle from you.

"I'll be quick," at that, you closed the door and took a quick shower. You folded up the clothes Choso leant you and reminded yourself to wash them at his place so your parents weren't suspicious if you left them at home.

Changing into a pair of grey leggings and an oversized, white hoodie that had TOKYO written across the chest in varsity letters, you slipped on socks and exited the bathroom. Just as you reached for a pair of sneakers, you noticed Yuji was knocked out on the plushes. Smiling, you slipped the shoes on, grabbed your tote bag that you filled with your things—plus Choso's clothes—then reached for Yuji and held him against you as he rested against your shoulder.

Careful enough to leave your home and shut the door quietly, you put him back into his car seat and buckled him in before you went for the drivers seat and made your way back to Choso's.

That afternoon was quite busy. You finished up your assignments that were due the following week, did some cooking for lunch that you enjoyed with Yuji, played with him and watched movies, then cooked again for dinner. For the most part, Choso's fridge was filled with a lot of children's food. The occasional fruit and vegetable, too. But a lot of kiddie portions. He truly cared for his little brother, it warmed your heart how attentive he was. How responsible and how much of an effort he put into Yuji's life.

After dinner, you took Yuji for a small walk to get some fresh air and enjoy the sunset. You sat at a park bench for a bit and talked about his favorite TV shows and video games before you walked hand in hand back to his home.

Watching some episodes of a TV show you loved as a kid—one Yuji never knew of—the two of you dozed off on the couch. This was what Choso came home to.

His heart raced at the sight, you with Yuji curled up against you as you shared a blanket. A small smile grew on his lips as he took his shoes off and quietly walked over. Carefully lifting up Yuji, ready to put him to bed—as it seems you had already taken care of bathing, brushing his teeth, and changing him into his pajamas—you squirmed awake. "Good evening, princess."

Sighing, you stretched before sitting up. "Hi."

"You can stay again, if you'd like," Choso offered but you shook your head with a gentle smile.

"I should go home... even though my parents don't seem to care as I haven't received a single phone call or text," you sighed, standing up to gather your things before walking to his front door.

Following you, Choso opened the door for you with his free hand as his other kept Yuji against his shoulder. "Like I said before, you have a place to stay here."

Looking up at him as you felt your heart flutter, you smiled again. A silence washed upon you two as you quietly gazed at one another. Tiptoeing, you gave his cheek a sweet, lingering kiss, before settling back, "thank you."

Eyeing you as his focus flickered between your eyes and your lips, Choso felt himself leaning forward, just about ready—

Feeling Yuji squirm, Choso straightened his posture as you blushed, waving goodbye before exiting his apartment. "Yeah... goodnight, princess..."

"...and then... I kissed his cheek. After that, I could've sworn we would've, you know..." you waved your hand, "kissed..."

"Kissed?!" Yuki exclaimed as you shyly nodded, blushing. You had told her everything from your parents wrongfully snapping at you, to you staying with Choso... up until you left the following day. Which had been yesterday. "Why didn't you?!" She gasped as she leaned towards you.

The two of you sat on a bench out in the main, open courtyard, usually doing this after your shared class before moving onto your next one. "I— I don't know... but, either way, I shouldn't..." you sighed, fiddling with the hem of your dress.

"Why not?" Yuki furrowed her eyebrows.

"Because... it'll never work out. We can't be together..." you trailed before sitting up with wide eyes. "Either way, it's not like I have feelings!"

Narrowing her eyes as she stared at you, Yuki shook her head, "I think you're lying. You wouldn't be this way if you didn't feel anything for him. You've changed, in a good way. You're telling me you stayed in his home, in the same bed... and feel nothing? The fact that you ran to him before thinking of anyone else, like... me?! And then you two almost kiss?! Come on!" She threw her hands up before slumping in her seat. "You've gotta follow your heart, and it's clear what she wants."

Turning your focus away from her, your heart skipped a beat. In the distance, you spotted the man of the hour walking alongside Mahito and Suguru. Swallowing the sudden lump in your throat as he noticed you, you shyly waved with a faint smile as he reciprocated the action.

Grinning at the sight, Yuki nudged your knee with hers, "can't knock it till you try it."

After the incident with your parents, you found yourself showing up at Choso's much earlier than normal. He didn't question, knowing very well you were avoiding your parents, simply welcoming you in (more like Yuji shoving his older brother to a side to hug your legs and shriek your name). You truly have grown to love Yuji more and more after each passing interaction.

You and Choso finished your work earlier than usual, deciding to sit together and watch some TV with Yuji sat in between. Usually, he was playing with his toys or Switch, but he always made time to be with you. Even if he was in the middle of using his brother's phone to FaceTime his two best friends. As you were in the midst of watching comedy reruns, Yuji was in the middle of squealing and laughing, talking loudly as one of his best friends—Nobara—basically met his level of excitement. You had actually met his two best friends a few times after Yuji had them over. You learned that Nobara was like his long lost twin while Megumi was the level headed one of the three. Usually quiet, but every now and then showed his own wave of emotions that almost matched the other two.

"Say hi!" Yuji said as he lifted the phone to your face.

"H— Hi, you two," you waved as you gently pushed the phone back so you could see them properly.

"Hi!" Nobara waved happily, sitting up in her seat and giving you a toothy grin.

"Hello," Megumi shyly waved as you chuckled. Yuji claimed Megumi had a crush on you, but you liked to think he was just timid. (Though, you weren't sure how, when his parents—who you had met that same day you had met him—were the complete opposite of him).

Suddenly with his eyes glued on the TV and practically dismissing his best friends, Yuji pointed, "a festival!" He said, watching the ad that appeared on the screen. "Choco, can we go?" He asked, wide eyes looking up at his big brother while kicking his legs in excitement. "All three of us?!

"Sure, if she wants to," Choso said as he ruffled Yuji's hair before the little boy looked up at you, awaiting your response.

"Oh, of course!" You nodded before bringing the phone back to the little boy's attention. "We can go Friday night." Already distracted by his best friends, you let out a small laugh before looking at Choso who shrugged.

The upcoming days went by like a breeze. To your luck, your parents were away on a business trip (without telling you until your mother's assistant left you a text). You rolled your eyes and didn't seem to care, you were used to being on your own rather than have a set of parents around to raise you. It was something that haunted you during your late night thoughts. However, unlike before, you had two people that made your days seem a lot better. Two people you felt as if you could breathe around and not have to worry about proper etiquette and perfect manners.

Friday had finally arrived and your classes came and went. You had met Choso at his place and carpooled with him after letting Yuki know where you'd be. The girls had made last minute plans to go to the movies but, like the great person she was, Yuki offered to make an excuse for you. No one but her knew how close you had grown to Choso. It wasn't like you were... intentionally hiding it, it was known he was your partner. However, you didn't think it needed to be known. It wasn't like you were a couple.

Now enjoying your time at the festival, playing games together (in which Choso had to help Yuji), eating great food and riding some rides, you had won Yuji a tiger plushy that was the size of him. He was a happy boy, but the smile on his face was wider than you had ever seen. He thanked you profusely as he hugged it tight and decided to name it after you (you didn't mind, it was a cute gesture).

Now seated on the ferris wheel as you eyed the environment around you, Yuji sat in between you and Choso as he watched the fireworks with stars in his eyes. You couldn't help but look at Choso with a gentle smile as he looked at you. Soft gazes being exchanged as you felt your heart race, blushing before the two of you looked away. You hated how fast your heart would beat within your chest whenever the two of you made eye contact. It made your stomach turn each time... Maybe Yuki was on to something when she said listen to your heart. As obvious of advise as it was.

"I had a great night," you said as you were now back at Choso's place, standing before your car as he held a sleeping Yuji in one arm and his giant stuffed tiger in the other. "Thanks for inviting me."

"Don't thank me, thank Yuji," he nudged his head towards the sleeping little boy, causing you to chuckle. "I'm glad you came. I would say it must be lonely going back home, but you must be used to it."

"Yeah, I am," you sighed. "But at least I had fun and I can think about that if I get in my head," you tapped your temple, earning a small smile from Choso. "I hope to do something like that again."

"Yeah, me too..." he nodded, eyeing you.

A silence weaved before the two of you as your eyes gazed into one another's. Taking in deep breaths as you could hear the blood pumping within your ears, you tugged Choso down by the collar of his shirt as your lips pressed against his own. Your other hand slid into his hair, through the loose bun he held it in as you tilted your head to deepen the kiss. You didn't think much into it, actually, you felt you were in a fever dream as your tongue slid against his bottom lip before his tongue met your own.

As if you realized what you had just done, you pulled away and took a small step back, looking down at Yuji's resting body before wiping your lips with the back of your hand. "Sorry— I shouldn't have done that. I need to go." Without hesitating, you turned and rushed to the driver seat of your car, leaving Choso with a heart thudding in his chest and confusion floating around his head.

Then Monday came around. You had the intention to act like nothing happened when you met up at his place, casually conversing with Yuji and enjoying your time before you got to work. However, Choso was on a different boat. You were breaking out of that disguise and showing your real self, and having you kiss him said a lot. Why the hell would he act like it didn't happen when you clearly wanted it?

"Stop looking at me like that," you said as you typed away.

"How do you expect me to?" Choso asked.

"By looking away?" You shrugged but Choso rolled his eyes, closing your laptop as you gasped. "Hey—"

"I don't know who you've been with before, how your past relationships or whatever were like, but I don't do hookups or whatever the hell the kiss on Friday initiated. You tried acting like nothing happened these past three days, even though you were clearly avoiding me and my messages. Yuji wanted to take you to the aquarium yesterday and you simply left me on read only to answer hours later—"

"Oh, god, it was just a dumb kiss!" You rolled your eyes.

"So dumb that there was tongue?" Choso lifted an eyebrow.

"I got carried away, alright? It meant nothing," you clarified, but the sudden tremble in your tone was a dead giveaway.

"So if I kissed you right now, it wouldn't do anything? You'd feel nothing?" He asked as you nodded.

"Do your worst, I don't see you in any other light. You should be happy I've started considering you as a good fri—" before you could complete your sentence, Choso's hand was on the back of your neck as his lips crashed onto your own. His tongue was quick to slip past your teeth as it met yours in a frenzy. You, at first, tried pushing him away. However, the grip you had on his sweater only pulled him closer as your laptop nearly fell onto the floor if Choso hadn't moved it in time.

Desperately kissing one another as your noses bumped and saliva smeared, you breathed against one another. As both of you clung onto each other, the sound of Yuji's voice calling out for his big brother caused you to push him off of you as you wiped your lips. "I should go," you panted, gathering your things as Choso watched you.

"Wait—"

"It's getting late, my parents should be back," you said as you aimed for his front door, not bothering to look back.

"Fuck..." he breathed as he sunk into his seat, rubbing his face before Yuji called his name again.

A week passed since the second kiss. It was almost as if there was an unspoken rule not to kiss nor touch as you spent your meet ups with a safe distance apart. You didn't bring anything up, of course not, and Choso was too conflicted to figure out what the hell he should do. He knew you were stubborn, and if he wanted something with you, he knew it wasn't going to be easy. There were still layers protecting you and if he tried anything, he was afraid you were going to resort back to square one and hate him again.

So, he let it be... as much as it was eating him alive knowing you definitely felt something for him as he did for you. It was probably why things were awkward, as much as both of you tried to avoid being such way.

Choso was seated at your desk as you were nestled on your bed. It had been a while since he was in your home and the only reason why he was there was due to an annual inspection at his apartment building. If it hadn't been happening, you two would've been social distancing on his couch instead.

"Finally," you breathed, tossing yourself back on your bed. "We finished."

Looking over at you, the way your shorts clung onto your thighs and how your sweater rode up to expose a piece of your belly, Choso sucked in a sharp breath. "Fuck it."

Sitting up on your forearms, your eyebrows furrowed, "wha—" Choso was suddenly on top of you. You let out a gasp as he practically pinned you on your bed. Your eyes widened as you looked up at him, but the second you felt his lips on yours, they fluttered close. Your palms tried to push against him, but the sensation filling you—the nights of endless dreams of Choso—you couldn't help but succumb. Your hands slipped through his hair, tugging at the loose strands as your lips parted for him.

Kissing you deeply as his tongue glided across your own, tracing every inch of your mouth as you tugged on his hair, Choso felt you wrap one of your legs around his waist. Lowering himself on you before rolling you over to straddle him, you subconsciously began grinding your hips against his as your tongue reached for his again.

Just as you felt Choso's hands reach under your sweater, your door slammed open. Your heart was pounding faster than ever as the sounds of your father screaming echoed in your head. He came rushing in with rage in his eyes as he ripped you off of Choso. Your breathing somehow seemed louder than the yelling beside you as your vision began to blur. From one second to the next, you were shoved back behind your father as he grabbed Choso by the collar and yelled in his face.

The voice of your father and now your mother as she stood by the door in pure shock that turned into disgust, muffled as you tried reaching out for Choso as he was shoved towards the door. "Choso! Wait!" You called out but your father blocked you. "Stop— No! Choso!" Your blurred vision was forced to look back at your father as he spat out his disappointment in you. Saying you will never see that boy again as long as you lived under his roof. How he blamed Choso for the person you were becoming and how you were forbidden to leave the house unless you told them exactly where you were going.

It was absolutely childish, you were an adult! But that wasn't what had you the most devastated, no, it was the fact that—yes, you had fallen for Choso and things were never going to be the same.

"How long has it been?" Yuki asked as she sat before you at her dinner table.

"9 days," you sighed, rubbing your temples as you sunk into your seat. Yuki basically became your therapist as she knew just about everything that's been happening between you and Choso. As exhausting as it was, she was rooting for you two. She was hoping for the best but hearing how things just kept getting out of hand, she couldn't help but worry for you. "He's avoiding me now. He's blocked my number. Couldn't call nor text him." Groaning as you leaned your forehead into your palm, you shook your head.

"You need to tell him," she said but you shook your head again. "You've gotta find a way. He can't be avoiding you for no reason."

"If I tell him I'm sure he won't say he feels the same. He's doing this for my sake, I can tell... I just—" sucking in a deep breath, you frowned, "it shouldn't have ended up this way."

"Well, you can't control your heart from falling so deeply for someone, can you?"

"Choco! You are smoking again!" Yuji stomped as he eyed his older brother who had just walked in from the balcony. "You promised you'd stop!"

"I know," Choso sighed as he rubbed his forehead.

"You broke your promise!" The little boy pouted. "It's not good for you! It makes you stinky and can kill you!"

"I know, Yuji—"

"I will stop eating candy if you stop smoking!" The pink haired boy pointed as Choso sighed.

"No, you won't—"

"And why haven't I see my best friend? It's been too long, Choco!" Yuji furrowed his eyebrows as he crossed his arms. Choso knew he meant you.

"I don't know..." the older man groaned, as if feeling a headache coming. He was used to his little brother's nonstop talking and pestering... but today, he wasn't having any of it.

"Liar! You are always talking to her! I miss her and you stopped having her over!"

"Enough!" Choso snapped as Yuji instantly flinched. His bottom lip pursed out as his eyes began to water. His tiny body trembled before he turned and ran to his room. "Dammit... I—" going after him and finding a lump under the sheets that was shaking, Choso frowned. "Yuji, I'm sorry." Seeing the giant stuffed tiger sticking out from under the sheets, Choso gently pulled the blanket back. "I didn't mean to snap on you... I just..." taking a seat on the bed as he eyed Yuji, Choso rubbed Yuji's back. "I can't see her anymore... which means you can't, either."

"But... I miss... her..." Yuji sniffled into the stuffed toy.

"Me too..." lying back on the bed as he looked at the ceiling, Choso felt Yuji shift beside him as Yuji sat up.

"Why can't we see her?" He asked.

"It's complicated..." Choso answered as he rubbed his face.

"Do you love her?" Yuji tilted his head as he held the stuffed tiger beside him.

Feeling his heart skip a beat, Choso rolled onto his side and eyed his little brother. "I do."

A gasp left the pink haired boy as he scooted closer. "Well, if you love her, you shouldn't give up," Yuji said as he gave Choso a hopeful smile. "You should go see her and tell her!"

A heavy knock sounded on Yuki's door as you furrowed your eyebrows and looked at it. "Are you expecting someone?" You asked.

"No, but you are," she said as she leaned back in her seat, stretching her arms above her with a sigh.

"Huh?" You shook your head as your confused expression deepened.

"Go open the door," Yuki nudged her chin.

Unsure as to why you listened, you let out a huff before pushing back your seat and standing up. "I don't know what you have up your sleeve... it better not be my parents. They know I'm here, you'd think they'd believe me..." you mumbled to yourself as you opened the door, expecting two unwanted faces... instead, getting one you had been aching to see. "Choso?"

Seeing the way your eyes widened as he stood before you at Yuki's apartment door, drenched in rain water as a nightly shower had rolled in, Choso felt his heart race as he reached for your face and pulled you into a sudden kiss. His beating heart grew faster as he so desperately clung onto you, but your palms instantly pressed against his chest and shoved him back.

Seeing the look of shock now on his face, you clenched your teeth, "you— you think you can just come out of nowhere and—"

Pulling you back into this kiss as his hands tug onto your wrists, Choso silenced your complaints with his own words. "I love you," he breathed against your lips, kissing them repetitively. "I love you," kiss, "I love you," kiss, "I fucking love you," kiss. "I'm sorry, I'm so fucking sorry," he nearly whispered as he pressed his forehead against your own as you stood stunned before him. "I was scared. You deserve better than me. I believed you were too good for me. We are from such different worlds and you deserved someone like you. That's why I avoided you. But, fuck, I've never felt this miserable being away from you. You were all I could think about. Dream about. I missed you. I missed your smile and laugh. The smell of your perfume. Seeing you being your genuine self around me. I missed having you around and caring for Yuji. Fuck, why do we do this to ourselves?" Choso breathed. "You avoided me, I avoided you. We let everything that doesn't matter affect us but I don't give a damn about what anyone else says, I love you and I want you. I want to be with you. I—"

Reaching for the back of his head as you tilted your own, you kissed him, now being the one to silence him. "I love you, too," you confessed before wrapping your arms around his neck and hugging him tight. "I do... I was scared, too. Of everything. But you bring out the best in me, you make me happy, Choso... I want you just as bad."

"Finally!" Yuki groaned as she stood from her seat. "Having Choso's number was handy."

Looking over at her as you had nearly forgotten where you were, you blinked in confusion. "What?"

"Oh, nothing, just me being the greatest friend and telling Choso where you were and making sure you two finally get together. It was exhausting seeing how things were going all because of lack of communication and fear and how ridiculous your parents are. You're an adult, they can't stop you from who you love," she rolled her eyes with a wave of her hand. "Now go on and leave with Choso and have fun. You can thank me later," she shooed as you and Choso backed up before she closed the door on you.

"Uh..." you stared at the door before looking up at him, seeing him shrug.

"She had been texting me for a while. I was actually a bit confused but then I started seeing her on campus when you weren't around and we got along pretty well. So I figured she'd know your whereabouts, asked her where you were, and luckily you were with her. This would've been much harder if you were home, but I would've done it anyway," he explained as you smiled.

"This is the most I've ever heard you speak," you teased as he shook his head. It was then you remembered he was still soaking wet and you were still outside just barely covered from the rain. "Let's go back to your place before you get sick."

The second you arrived at his apartment—and learned Yuji was staying at Nanami's with this last minute decision to see you—Choso was quick to pull you back into a kiss. You had tried to stop him, telling him he should dry up, but Choso instead started undressing right before you in between kisses. His black tee that clung to his body was the first to go, revealing his toned chest that you so quickly went to touch, feeling his abs underneath your fingertips. Then, he went for his sweat pants, kicking them to a side before he went for your clothes. You couldn't quite process what was happening, your head was spinning from the kissing (and the fact that he was in nothing but his boxer briefs before you). Before you knew it, all that covered you was your underwear as Choso left delicate kisses down your neck and collarbone.

Now standing before his bed as he held your hands in his, Choso pressed his forehead against yours as the two of you stood in silence, listening not only to the rain trickle, but your shared breathing. "I'm not that bad of person, am I?

"No," you shook your head. "I was a fool. I'm sorry..."

"Doesn't matter anymore," he mumbled, "you love me and I love you. That's all I care about. What's in the past is in the past, I love everything about you, and I'm glad I got to peel away those layers," he smiled as you did, too. "May we?"

"Mhm," hummed, "yes... please."

Reaching behind to unclasp your bra before slowly removing it from your body, Choso then lifted you up and settled you on his bed, tugging down your underwear. Bare and exposed to him as your heart raced and chest heaved, you were just about ready to cover yourself, but Choso's lips beat you to it. He kissed along your chest and bare breasts, down your belly and to your thighs. He parted your knees and admired the way your bare pussy glistened for him.

Watching with hooded eyes as he licked his lips, you swallowed as you clung to his bed sheets. Your eyes followed the way his figure lowered to his knees, how he kissed closer and closer to your heat before leaving a sweet peck on your clit.

Reaching one hand up, Choso interlaced his fingers with yours before he licked a broad strip up your cunt, moaning at the taste of you as you shivered. He felt your free hand slide into his dark locks as you let out a shaky breath the moment his tongue teased your entrance, only to make its way back to your aching nub. Choso smiled at the way your hand tugged at his hair to push on his head, further burying his face against you. Swirling his tongue around your clit, he made his way towards your hole before teasing it once again.

"Choso, please, stop teasing..." you begged with a breathy tone.

"Anything for you, baby." Plunging his tongue in you as he fucked you slow, he pulled away to play with your clit before two of his finger pushed into you. The sounds you made had his grip tightening around your hand as his other thrusted his fingers in and out of you.

Your toes curled as you felt that burning desire within you ready to explode. "Ch— Choso, I'm gonna—" but before you could finish, he pulled his fingers out, replacing his tongue with his thumb on your clit. Feeling his tongue sink into once again, Choso was more than ready to lap up your juices as you came on his face with a shaky moan.

Taking in as much of you as he could, groaning in delight at the taste, Choso released your hand before he crawled over you and slid his tongue past your mouth to share your essence. He listened to you hum as your shaky hands reached for his briefs and tugged them down. Helping you as he removed the remaining piece of clothing on his body, he felt your hands caress the side of his thighs before reaching in between the two of you.

Gliding your tongue along his as you so sweetly wanted to swallow each other whole, your hands wanted to feel the weight of him on them. You gently began to rub at his length, already knowing it was going to a bit of a hassle to have him fill you just by the feel of his bare cock in your palm. You pumped him slowly, brushing your thumb over his slit as his breath hitched against your lips. "Fuck me, please," you quietly begged. "I want you, I love you."

Separating from the kiss as he gently peeled your hand away from him before he could come on your hand (which he was sure would happen in any second) he brought you deeper into the bed before he reached for his drawer. That is until you stopped him. "What is it?" He asked, heart dropping. Were you having second thoughts?

"I want you bare," you breathed. "Please..."

"Are— Are you sure?" He asked as you nodded. "I'll pull out."

"No," you shook your head, giving him a look as if saying it was okay.

Blushing, Choso nodded, "okay." Wrapping your legs around his waist as he aligned himself with you, Choso slowly sunk into your tightness as a hiss left him. You reached up and held onto his shoulders as he bottomed out, pausing for a moment as he rested his forehead against yours.

"It's okay," you breathed before giving him a small peck to the cheek.

Pulling back slowly, Choso began thrusting in and out of you at a steady pace. He littered your face with kisses as your eyes fluttered closed. Kissing down your neck and chest, he brought one hand up to fondle with one of your breasts. Giving the other some attention as he sucked at the skin and left red blotches in his wake, faint bites and kisses too, he brought your nipple into his mouth as he began to pick up his pace.

"Faster," you breathed as Choso did so. He thrusted deeply into you, giving your breasts equal attention. Kissing and licking, biting and marking, moaning at the feeling of you squeezing him. Your hands tugged on his hair, the sweetest sounds leaving your lips as he fucked into you in a way that made your heart flutter. He wasn't trying to break you nor fuck you into the next life. No, he was loving you in a physical way to prove just how deep his feelings ran for you. The languid movements of his hips, the kisses against your body, the way he brought his hands into yours as he whispered his love for you into your ear. You swore you could hear angels singing. The tears brimming in your eyes and staining your face as you felt this wave of pure ecstasy wash all over you.

You had never come like this before, almost in unison as you felt your mind, body, and soul becoming one with his. You must've been in heaven, up in the clouds. It was almost ethereal. He filled you so deeply before his body nearly gave out and collapsed on yours.

He needed a moment as he stayed in you. Catching his breath before pulling out and falling beside you. Tugging you to him as his lips lazily met yours in the loveliest, sloppiest kiss, Choso ran his fingers through your hair as he mumbled sweet nothings against your lips.

"I love you," you breathed, nuzzling your face against his chest before looking up at him. Caressing his hair then rubbing your thumb along his nose and cheeks, you gave him a sleepy smile. "You're so handsome..."

Giving you the same smile, Choso caressed your forehead, placing his hand on the back of your neck as he kissed you once more, "you're beautiful..." he muttered. "So pretty... I'm so damn lucky..."

"Me too..." Enjoying the silence shared between you as you felt yourself more than ready to fall asleep, you then forced yourself up as you remembered something. "Choso! Your hair is still soaking wet!"

Letting out a small laugh, he sat up and reached for your hands, tugging you out of the bed with him, "then let's share a shower and you can dry my hair."

"Oh, I so won the bet against Gojo," Mei Mei said as she stood beside Utahime.

"Kinda predictable, but at least she's happy," Utahime said.

"And I helped!" Yuki beamed as the three of them watched you walk hand in hand with Choso across the courtyard of the campus. The biggest smile was on your face as Choso gazed down at you, almost as if it were a scene ripped from a rom-com.

"Ladies, now that Choso is taken, I'm available—"

"Save it, Mahito," Yuki raised a hand as the other two women beside her simply ignored the man. A laugh left Suguru as he was trailing beside Mahito, instantly gaining Yuji's attention. "But if Suguru is available..." teasing him with a wink, Suguru's eyes widened. "Men are so easy to toy with."

ONE YEAR LATER.

It was almost impossible to keep your hands to yourself. You always found yourself twirling Choso's hair around your finger, giving his bicep a small squeeze, hugging his arm, placing your palm on his thigh... it was rare for you not to be right beside him. Choso didn't mind, he never did, he loved how your touches felt. He welcomed them, actually. When you weren't touching him, even in the slightest way, he felt off. As if something was missing.

You didn't seem to care where you were. If he wasn't around, you'd patiently wait to see him again, knowing very well it would be you jumping him into a hug or pulling him into a needy kiss. You weren't sure who you had become within the year you had been with Choso, but it was so freeing.

Especially being able to do it in front of your parents.

They were not happy when they found out you had been secretly dating him for months without telling them, but their reaction didn't phase you. Actually, you were in the midst of moving out. Choso had offered you to stay with him—and although you were a bit worried at first—you couldn't have been any happier with your decision. Away from the two most troublesome people in your life, now living with the person you most adored, and your tiny best friend, Yuji. Yuji was the most ecstatic when he learned the news of you moving in. Already planning out things to do with you like movie nights and games to play together as well as other little things that made the boy happy.

Overall, you were happier than ever. Freer than a bird. And seeing the look of disgust on your parents face at dinner did nothing to stop you.

You didn't know why you did it, maybe it was because they were your parents, and maybe since you were a good person, you still visited every now and then. However, it was almost always with Choso. And they couldn't do anything about it.

"Well, we have to go pick up Yuji," you said as you stood from the now cleared out dinner table.

Choso followed in your lead as he felt you slip your hand into his. He was already used to your parents at this point and didn't bat an eyelash to their judgmental looks. Though, they were... improving. Slowly. The glares and scowls weren't so bad anymore. Wasn't his fault their little princess of a daughter fell in love with a terror like him. He loved her more than anything in the universe and nothing would change that. "Good night and thank you for dinner."

Gathering your purse and cardigan from where they hung, Choso opened the front door for you as the two of you walked right out. These nights always ended this way, you never waited for a response or some sort of action. In reality, these gatherings never lasted more than an hour. There wasn't much to say or do besides eat...

Climbing into Choso's car as the two of you let out a laugh you had been holding in, you gave his cheek a kiss before he backed out of the driveway and made his way to Nanami's. "It's the way your mom looks so disturbed when you hold my hand."

"And how my father bites his tongue whenever I give you the smallest of kisses," you chuckled. "A year and you'd think they'd move on. That's what happens when you have one kid. They should've had more."

"It's alright, they'll find a way to accept it... Eventually. In a decade or so," he said as you sighed, reaching over to hold his hand while resting your head against the seat.

"Whatever, at least my grandparents like you. My grandmother is always asking for you when I do my weekly calls," you snickered as Choso smirked. "She doesn't get why my mother is the way she is. She blames my father. Oh well, at least we've got their support."

"And our friends," he added.

"Mhm," you smiled. "That's all I need."

Eventually arriving at Nanami's home, you were greeted by said blond man trailing behind an excited pink haired boy. Yuji always had a habit of rushing out the moment you arrived, practically glued to the window whenever Nanami announced you two were on your way.

Helping the little boy into his car seat, both you and Choso greeted and thanked Nanami before the man bowed his head and closed the door for Yuji. Said boy smiled at you as you turned to give his hair a little ruffle before poking his ribs gently. "How was Nanamin's?"

"Fun! He helped me with my homework and then we had dinner with his family and then we played uno!" He said as you grinned. "And you?"

"Not as fun as it is being around you," you pouted, earning a giggle from the little boy.

"Choco's not fun?" He asked, earning a sigh from his big brother.

"Of course he is, he makes it all the better. I don't know what I'd do if he wasn't there," you sighed as Yuji lifted his eyebrows, only to grin.

"Then I think I know what you have to do to make sure Choco is always there!" Yuji clapped his hands.

"What is it?" You curiously asked as Choso looked over.

"Get married!" He exclaimed.

Looking at one another, Choso shrugged, "he's not wrong."

Playfully rolling your eyes, you readjusted yourself on your seat as you went back to holding his hand. "Well, then I'll be waiting for you to propose."

an: so you've made it this far? thank you so much! i promise you it was worth it... how are feeling? it's dramatic, i know, but i love drama and angst as much as i love smut and fluff... reblogs are much appreciated! xo

#haruno writes;#choso #choso kamo #choso x reader #choso x you #choso x y/n #choso x female reader #choso smut #jjk x you #jjk smut #jjk x reader

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blog-name-idk · 1 year

Text

Mold a Pretty Lie | 04

Banner by @persphonesorchid <3

Pairing: professor!Jin x Fem undergrad!Reader

Genre: College!AU, Unhealthy relationships, toxic relationships, virgin reader, eventual yandere, eventual smut

Summary: They say love is like a garden that requires regular care and attention. Kim Seokjin, your kind and handsome professor, is more than happy to cultivate the vines that bind his heart to yours.

Word Count: 4,358

Rating: 18+

Warnings: Kissing, non-consensual kissing/assault, sneaker destruction

AN: A huge thanks to @eserethriddle for beta-ing this chapter for me. Also check their fics out, they're amazing. Hope y'all enjoy!

~~~~~

In the weeks that followed, there were no more incidents where you nodded off in Dr. Kim's class. You made sure of it. Your professor didn't mention it again, other than leaving a blue Powerade on your desk the next time you met him to work on your research project. It was objectively the best flavor, and you did your best not to read too much into his thoughtfulness.

However, your best wasn't good enough, and each one of his smiles and silly jokes added another bud to the flowers blooming in your chest.

You craved when he'd lean in close enough for your imagination to go wild, the way he would rest a distracting hand on your shoulder when he reviewed your work, the sparkle in his eyes when he was pleased. You didn't go chasing after more contact than that, but you did find yourself lingering longer than your allotted hours, chatting to your energetic professor about this or that.

At first you had been reticent, wary of taking up too much of his time, or god forbid, coming across like some of the students who stalked his office hours. But he was often the one to engage you, to ask about how your semester was going outside of his class. It was hard to believe he cared, but his face lit up in genuine interest when you spoke, and it was hard not to bask in the warm glow of his approval.

Why were you such an idiot? You were smitten, daydreaming about a man there was no hope of ever attaining. You knew it was a waste of time to keep pining after him the way you were, but how exactly could you prevent your stomach from flipping upside down with each smile?

You

Help

Phoebe

What's wrong, my pretty tulip?

You winced at the nickname, a joke at your expense Phoebe had "hilariously" come up with in high school. Because you were a virgin in both sets of lips. It was fucking weird and gross and she never let it go despite the fact that you hated it.

You

I have a stupid crush on someone I have objectively zero chance with

Phoebe

Oh????

Pix!!!

You

Lol

Yeah, no

Phoebe

Name!!!

You

Yeah, no

You were NOT going to open yourself to ridicule from your best friend by admitting you had enough of a crush on a professor for it to be a problem. That was just asking for her to make fun of you. If she kept pressing, you'd send her a picture of Jimin or Taehyung or something, but not if you could avoid it.

Phoebe

You're so boring

This is why it's unrequited

You

Omg rude

Phoebe

Lol you know I'm joking

Well you know what they say

You

If you say "the best way to get over someone is to get under someone else" I'm blocking you for being cliche as fuck

Phoebe

It's a cliche for a reason babe

It's not like you're in love with the guy right?

You just need a distraction that'll help redirect your thinking

Just start flirting with a new cutie, works for me every time

You

I guess that makes sense…

Wouldn't that be like, kinda rude to the other person though?

Phoebe

I said flirt not propose to lmao

And not just a rando, someone you actually could like

How are you of all people trying to question me, hmm little tulip?

You

Ugh yeah yeah fine whatever

… Thank you for the advice

Phoebe

Anytime

Miss you babe <3

You

Miss you too <3

You stared at your phone for a moment, lost in thought as you considered your friend's words. You could kind of see where she was coming from - you were probably just infatuated with your professor because you saw and interacted with him multiple times a week, and your wishful brain mistook his kindness for some sort of preference. Dr. Kim was so wonderful that it was just normal human nature for you to become enamored - maybe if you reframed your mindset and let yourself get swept up with someone else, your silly crush would fade.

"Sierra?" you asked one weekend, wondering if you had soured her desire to party with you. She hadn't tried to cajole you out since that not-so-fateful night, and you never asked why in the fear that you would hear that she now hated you. Your roommate perked up and looked at you from her bed, where she was laying on her back and scrolling through her phone. "What are you doing tonight?"

"Haven't decided yet, what's up?" she replied curiously. She didn't look apprehensive at your question, so that was probably a good sign.

"I just - I thought it might be fun to go out or something…" you said tentatively, studying her face for any flashes of annoyance. Instead, her eyes lit up.

"Really?" Sierra asked excitedly, sitting upright on her mattress. "I didn't put you off partying with me?"

"Really, I - wait what do you mean? I blacked out and spent half the night throwing up."

Her words made no sense, why would you not want to hang out with her anymore? Instead of rolling her eyes and agreeing with your assessment the way Phoebe might have, she laughed.

"I guess that means you don't remember when I tried to hug you and then threw up on your shoes instead."

"I thought that was my vomit," you exclaimed. "And I thought you were annoyed with me, and that's why we never went out again."

"I thought you didn't want to hang out with me!"

The two of you stared at each other for a moment before bursting into laughter.

"We're idiots," she said through giggles, looking just as relieved as you felt. "Alright, let's party tonight! Maybe minus the puking."

You laughed at her addendum, nodding in agreement. "I can work with that."

~~~~~

You weren't exactly sure how you had ended up here, shut in a bedroom with Sierra and a group of other strangers. The two of you were on the far side of tipsy, but nowhere near as drunk as you had been the last time. And now you were staring at the bottle some guy - Chad? Brad? - was holding up.

"Spin the bottle? Seriously?" scoffed Sierra, crossing her arms. You were inclined to agree - sure, people were inclined to play horny drinking games, but you didn't think anyone played spin the bottle specifically out of middle school, or bad teenage sitcoms. At least with Truth or Dare or Never Have I Ever, you sort of learned about the people around you.

Plus you could definitely say that you weren't particularly interested in locking lips with anyone in this room.

"Yeah, it was nice to meet you all but I think I'm gonna go back to the party," you said as diplomatically as you could.

"What, too much of a prude?" ChadBrad asked with a smirk, and you fought the urge to roll your eyes. He was attractive, sure, but arrogance clung to his shoulders like a bad smell and you were not into it.

"No, I just have standards," you retorted loftily, getting up from the floor and heading to the door. "I'm seeing too many frogs, and not enough princes."

Sierra laughed gleefully at ChadBrad's startled expression and followed you.

"Sorry buddy, no amount of Smirnoff Ice in your mini-fridge is gonna get either of us to hook up with you," she added, and the guy scowled as the others in the room began to snicker.

The closing door cut off the sound and the two of you giggled as you walked back to the main party.

"Dang girl, I thought you were this meek little mouse, but that was hilarious," Sierra said with a grin, making you laugh. You were so caught up in talking to your friend that you forgot to watch where you were going, and ended up colliding with a warm, solid body. The warmth was offset by a cold trickle down your shirt and you jumped back, realizing you had made whoever it was spill their drink.

"I'm so sorry, I - Tae?"

Your friend stood before you, eyes wide, hair tousled, wearing a loose white button-up that made him look like a medieval farmhand a heroine would run away with.

"[Y/n]?" he asked, surprise etched on his face as his eyes roved down your figure. Sierra had convinced you to wear another crop top, and you fought the urge to cover your stomach as his gaze fell on your bare skin.

"Now here's a prince," Sierra whispered in your ear, making heat rise up your neck as you realized what she was getting at. "Hey Tae. I'm gonna get a drink, you need a new one?"

He jumped as if surprised she was there, and she snorted as if unsurprised.

"That would be great, thanks Sierra."

She nudged you as she left.

"Get it, girl," she whispered in your ear wickedly, making you cough and splutter before she slapped your ass and left, cackling. God, your roommate was a menace.

"I didn't expect to see you here," Taehyung said with a smile, and you had to smile back, a little hypnotized by the stars in his eyes. He really was beautiful.

"I thought it was time to give partying another shot," you replied sheepishly, still a little embarrassed by how your previous night out had ended.

"I'm glad," he said softly, something in his eyes making your stomach flutter. "Sorry for spilling on you."

You had actually forgotten, but now that he brought it up you were all too aware of the stain on your shirt and the stickiness of beer on your skin.

"It's my fault, I wasn't looking where I was going," you assured him.

"Let me help you get cleaned up at least," he offered, grabbing your hand before you could protest and setting off to find a bathroom. Your fingers slotted perfectly into his, and he tugged you easily through the crowd. Phoebe's advice rang clear in your mind, but you silenced it as you followed. You were certainly attracted to Taehyung, but he was way out of your league… right?

He found a bathroom and ushered you inside, shutting the door behind him. It dulled the sound of merrymaking outside, and the sudden intimacy brought another slew of jittery panic into your chest. One that was clearly only one sided as Taehyung glanced around before finding a roll of paper towels.

He ripped off a sheet, running it under the faucet before handing it to you.

"Unless you want my help," he said with a wink, waggling his eyebrows. You laughed and slapped his shoulder before accepting his offering, too intent on cleaning yourself to notice the way his eyes watched you hungrily. You dabbed at the shirt as well, before deciding it was a lost cause and that the beer would probably come out in the wash.

"Thanks, Tae," you said with a smile, tossing the crumpled cloth in the trash and looking up to suddenly find him right in front of you. He was close enough that you had to look up to meet his eyes, and you stepped backwards with a surprised "eep" when your back hit the sink counter.

"How much have you had to drink tonight?" he asked intently, not moving from where he was standing. You were suddenly all too aware of your exposed skin, of how gorgeous he looked, of how his dark, mesmerizing eyes were locked on your own.

"N-not very much, we just got here a little while ago," you stammered, staring back at him as your pulse sped up. His lips curved into a devastating smirk and he stepped forward, closing the scant distance between your bodies.

"Good, then I can finally do this," he murmured, one warm, gentle hand coming up to cup your cheek as you felt your eyes go as wide as saucers. Then he was leaning in, and those plush lips of his were coming closer, and closer.

They were warm and soft, and you felt your eyelashes flutter shut as you leaned into the feeling. He backed away almost immediately, and your stomach dropped. Was he disappointed? Were you a bad kisser? But it had only lasted a couple seconds, were people really able to tell that quickly?

"Was that okay?" he whispered, cutting through your panic. He was gazing at you with an uncertainty that mirrored your own, and your heart sang with the realization that he was nervous. You felt your own lips twitch into a smile and you nodded, reaching up to wrap your arms around his neck.

"Yeah," you whispered, standing up on your tippy-toes and tilting your face up in an open invitation.

This time, the kiss was less tentative, and Taehyung's free arm snaked around your waist to pull you snugly into him. You gasped at the press of his warm, warm body against yours, and he took the opportunity to pull your lower lip between his teeth, nibbling slightly. Oh. That was… very pleasant.

"You're so pretty," Taehyung murmured, pulling away. You almost asked why he stopped, until his lips dragged across your jaw to press light, fluttery kisses against your skin that left hot embers in their wake. The new sensation made you whimper, and he froze as his grip on your waist tightened. Fuck, were you not supposed to do that? It was getting hard to think straight when he was holding you so close, whispering sweet words in your ear.

Then he latched onto the sensitive skin of your neck and he sucked, sending white hot shudders down your spine. A moan left your mouth before you could stop it, and Taehyung groaned before capturing your mouth again.

He took advantage of your parted lips to glide his tongue against yours, and another mortifying sound escaped your throat at the sensation. It was wet, hot, and slimy, and should have felt gross, but instead you found yourself clinging to his shirt as your legs turned to jelly.

"Fuck, you sound so good," Taehyung groaned, shifting from your mouth to run his tongue along the shell of your ear.

"T-Taehyung," you gasped breathily, not exactly wanting to stop but worried about him taking this further. His hands slid down to your butt to press your hips against his, and with a jolt you realized he was hard against your thigh. He felt your body stiffen, and immediately pulled back.

"Sorry, too much?" he asked, his voice a husky rasp.

"A little," you admitted, swallowing down the desire to find out what else he had to offer. As much as you were enjoying yourself, you were already starting to feel a little overwhelmed. And the way Taehyung was currently looking at you made you want to both kiss him forever and run away and hide. "Maybe we should get back to the party."

"I'm sorry," he said again, looking away. "I've wanted to do that forever, I got a little carried away."

Something warm glowed in your chest at his words, and impulsively you grabbed his shirt to pull him in for another kiss. The dazed way he grinned at you when you let him go was more than enough to bolster your confidence, and this time you were the one who intertwined your fingers with his.

"Let's go find Sierra."

Finding your roommate ended up being more difficult than you'd thought, and Taehyung reluctantly agreed that it would be easier for you two to split up to find her.

"Don't forget about me while you're gone," he said with a pout, brushing his lips against the knuckles of your hand before finally letting go. You watched him leave, stomach positively giddy with butterflies, before you turned around as well. A clammy hand gripped your wrist roughly, and you jumped, whirling to face the culprit.

"Saw you leave the bathroom with that guy," came the obnoxious, unwelcome voice of ChadBrad. He smirked at your frown, ignoring the way you tried to shake off his hand. What was he doing? Why was he looking at you like that?

"It's not really any of your business, is it?" you replied coldly, but to your alarm he just looked even more smug. His grip tightened, and you felt anxiety rise like bile in the back of your throat.

"So you're the type that likes to play hard to get, is it? I like that," he said with a leering grin, stepping into your personal space. You backed away as far as you could with your arm still captive, and gave him your best glare before scanning behind him to see if Taehyung was still around.

Please let him still be here, you begged silently. To no avail. You were alone, and no one else in the room was even looking in your direction. And the music was so loud you doubted even a scream would catch anyone's attention.

"Let go," you ordered through gritted teeth, trying to sound more confident than you felt. He merely matched each step you tried to take away from him, and when your back hit the wall you realized you were trapped.

"Trusting your safety to two college boys you don't know very well… well, I'm glad the night ended alright, but it would break my heart if anything happened to you."

Your professor's words echoed in your head as you tried to think of a way out of this situation, wishing you had listened better to his advice.

"Good girls say please," ChadBrad taunted, caging you between his arms. "But you're a bad girl, huh?"

Fucking ew. Despite the obvious disgust on your face, he still seemed to think it was going well, and you caught a whiff of gross beer breath before his clammy lips were on yours.

It was revolting, and you felt your skin crawl as you tried to push him off frantically. You kept your lips sealed tightly shut against the nauseating prod of his tongue, but the asshole wouldn't fucking move. Your heart was pounding for completely different reasons than with Taehyung, and it was getting harder to breathe through your nose as you pushed and pushed to no avail. Finally, you did the only thing you could think of, and kneed him as hard as you could between his legs.

That worked, and he leaped away with a yelp.

"What the fuck, you bitch," he spat at you, doubling over as you scrambled away from him, massaging your wrist and breathing hard. You could breathe through your mouth now, why didn't it feel like you were getting any air?

You didn't bother to gift him with a response, too focused on getting the fuck away for something as trivial as a final word. You stumbled through the house, desperate for Sierra or Taehyung or fucking anyone familiar at this point.

To your relief, you spotted a familiar head of hair near the kitchen and almost tackled Sierra in your haste to get to her.

"Whoa there, cowboy!" she said with a giggle as she righted herself, though her smile slid off when she saw your expression. "What's wrong?"

Your heart settled at her reassuring face, and as the adrenaline ebbed away you suddenly felt a lump in your throat. You opened your mouth to respond, then closed it when you realized frustration and anxiety were welling up behind your eyes.

You swallowed and took a deep breath, but all you could do was sniffle to try to keep back the disgusting feeling clawing your throat. Sierra's eyes widened and she wrapped a protective arm around you. You obeyed blindly as she steered you through the throngs of people, focused solely on not freaking out in front of a huge audience.

"Babe, talk to me, what happened?"

With a start you realized you were on the lawn outside and looking into Sierra's warm, worried brown eyes.

"I - that guy - "

To your utter mortification, that was all you got out before the tears came in earnest. Your face was immediately pressed into a perfumed, ample chest as your roommate hugged you and rubbed soothing circles into your back.

"It's okay, you're okay. Just take your time," Sierra said comfortingly as you whimpered and hiccuped into her shirt. Fuck, why were you crying so much? Nothing bad had really even happened, you were fine! Why were you being such a crybaby? First Dr. Kim, now here?

Finally, you calmed down enough to tell Sierra what happened, and her expression went from concerned to livid.

"And where the fuck was Taehyung?" she asked calmly, making your eyes widen. Her voice was even, but her eyes flashed with what could only be described as castrative fury.

"We only split up for a second to look for you!" you explained hastily, and suddenly you were the one rubbing soothing circles into her back. "We were gonna meet back up in the kitchen."

Sierra relaxed slightly, but tension still thrummed under her skin. You wracked your brain for something to calm her down, but crying had made your head irritatingly foggy.

"Oh hey, you found her!"

You both looked to see Taehyung smiling, though it faded when he saw the anger on Sierra's face and the tear stains on yours. He took a step forward, only to stop immediately when Sierra stepped in front of you. Despite it being unnecessary, you felt a surge of affection for your roommate.

"What happened?" he asked softly as Sierra crossed her arms and tapped her foot at him, clearly unimpressed.

"Some asshole assaulted her, that's what happened," she snapped, her words cracking through the air like a whip. You winced and tugged at her arm.

Taehyung's eyes went wide with shock and he looked at you with worry.

"I'm so sorry, [y/n], did I - " he began, looking horrified and guilty. You realized he thought Sierra was talking about himself, and you shook your head frantically.

"No! It wasn't you!" you protested immediately, stepping past Sierra's protection to grab Taehyung's hand. "It was someone else." He only looked mildly relieved, and his eyes were still filled with concern.

"I shouldn't have left you alone," he said quietly, rubbing his thumb over your knuckles. Embarrassment threatened to drag you under and you winced. It wasn't his fault at all. You were just the one who was so pathetic that you apparently couldn't handle five minutes alone, and then cried like an idiot even though you weren't even hurt.

You felt Sierra's hand on your shoulder, and you looked at her questioningly.

"Will you be okay with him for a second?" she whispered in your ear, so quietly you knew Taehyung wouldn't catch it. "I forgot something inside."

You nodded, giving her a wobbly smile you hoped was reassuring. Apparently it was good enough, though she shot Taehyung a very stern glare.

"Behave, I know where you live," she said with deadly seriousness. The tension was broken by your chuckle, and both of your friends relaxed a hair. "Okay, I'll be right back."

The two of you were left alone, and suddenly you found yourself unable to look at anything but your feet.

"I'm s-sorry," you hiccuped, sniffing as you tried to keep a fresh wave of tears at bay. You hated yourself for crying so easily. You swiped at your cheeks and remembered the way Dr. Kim had dabbed your face so gently in his office. You should have listened to him. "I ruined another night out for you guys."

"What are you talking about?" asked Taehyung gently, squeezing your hand. "I always have a great time with you."

You shook your head in disbelief, still not able to meet his eyes. He was sweet to try to make you feel better, but you couldn't find it in yourself to believe him. Had it really been just a few minutes ago that you had been giddily thinking about his lips against yours?

"Hey."

Taehyung put his forehead against yours, but you didn't look up to face him. You couldn't.

"Getting to kiss you already made this the best night of the year so far," he murmured in your ear, and you wanted to believe him despite yourself. He pulled you into his chest and you took a deep breath, letting the warm, spicy smell of his cologne wash over you. "And getting to spend time with you out here makes it even better."

"Even though I'm being a buzzkill?" you asked hesitantly, voice muffled as you timidly wrapped your arms around his waist.

"Nothing can kill my buzz unless it's Jimin having a hair meltdown," Taehyung announced confidently, and you found yourself smiling into his chest.

"Thanks, Tae," you whispered, finally tilting your face up to look at him properly. He grinned happily back at you, squeezing you tight.

"There you are!" he exclaimed goofily, then shocked you into laughter by tickling your exposed sides.

"Don't do that, you jerk!" you scolded, swatting at his hands before he could get more than a few giggles out of you. He smiled and put his hands up in surrender and opened his mouth to say something, when rapid footfalls distracted you.

"Let's go!" said Sierra urgently, grabbing both you and Taehyung's hands and dragging you stumbling behind her.

"W-what?" you spluttered, suddenly very grateful the two of you had worn sneakers to this party. Why the hell was Sierra walking so fast?

"I poured all the Smirnoff Ices into that dipshit’s sneaker collection," your roommate revealed, turning back to you with a devious grin. Her eyes were alight with tipsy misbehavior and justice. "I want to be well clear before he finds out."

Sierra's admission startled a snort of laughter out of you, and Taehyung looked at her in outright awe. Perhaps this night hadn't ended so badly, after all.

Still, you decided you'd heed your professor's advice and steer clear of parties in the future.

~~~~~

Next | Masterlist

Tags: @moonleeai @random-and-out-of-context @amenjiminsan @innebulae @lonewolfsinclair @seoqity @lilacdreams-00 @chowb @shescharlie @mazmaz30 @definetlythinkimanalien @seokjins-luigi @lucci-girl @xicanacorpse @bighitbabie @8loominghell @jung-nika-hoseok @staradorned @zealouslightcookiebasketball @kissme-ornot

#bts imagines #bts fanfiction #bts fanfic #bts jin #bts x reader #bts x you #kim seokjin x reader #bts x y/n #jin x reader #bts yandere #yandere seokjin

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harukaprism · 1 year

Note

omg may i request for first time makingn out with yota maybe??? i feel like he would let us kiss him first and him not knowing how to react widhwodjjhh HE IS SO CUTE

Hi my love! This was literally so freaking cute. YOU ARE SO RIGHT HE IS SO CUTE. Sorry it isn't too long but I hope you like it!

Yotasuke could not believe he had let Yatora and Murai convince him to come to this party. The party was loud and a lot of people were drinking, he wanted to be anywhere but here.

“Yota? Oh my god!” Your voice rang out throughout the entire party, he spotted you from across the house with a can of your favorite drink in hand. Worming your way through the swarm of art students you practically tackled him in a hug. “I can’t believe you came!”

He could smell the alcohol on your breath but it wasn’t too overwhelming so he knew you hadn’t had too much that would inebriate you. “Yatora made me come.” Softly admitting the reason he was here you lead him to a couch in a more quiet area.

“I’m glad you are here, Murai is good fun but he starts to strip and then it gets too much.” Letting out a huff you leaned into the soft cushions. Yotasuke actually enjoyed your company, you took the time to get to know him and talk to him. “How are classes going?”

Rarely did you bring up art with him, he had opened up to you about his struggles with the subject and how he really didn’t like it and you never questioned him on it, you just accepted it and rolled with talking with him. “They are fine. How are yours?” He sat listening to you rant about your projects and your professors, how you hated that the days were getting longer and longer the more exams were coming up.

Soon, the house got quieter as everyone moved outside to do more drinking and hop in the pool. The two of you were left alone in the living room. “Yotasuke, have you ever kissed anyone?” Instantly his face was flushed bright red as his blood rushed to the skin. Why would you ask a question about that? That is inappropriate. “Is that a no?” You tilted your head to the right as you studied him.

“N-no I have not kissed anyone.” Stuttering he clasped his hands in his lap trying to distract himself.

Suddenly your lips brushed against his ear. “You’re too pretty to not kiss anyone before Yota. Would you like a kiss?” Staying still he only gave a short nod, he had a crush on you of course; you were the only woman he could really stand.

With wide eyes he watched as you crawled into his lap and pinned him to the couch, your moves were not forceful he could pull away at any moment if he wanted. He made no moves as you leaned in close to his face; your lips were soft as they made contact with his lips, your chapstick spreading onto him.

You started to pull away but instinctively followed your movements wanting more, now that he had it, he wanted to be selfish and take all of you. Taking his hint, you crashed your lips against his. Your bodies melding into one as his lithe fingers dug into your shirt, your fingers were buried in his hair as he messily kissed you back.

He could hear his heart pounding in his ears; was he doing this right? Were you enjoying yourself? He got the answer to his question as your tongue made its way into his mouth, he let you in and hung on for dear life as you explored his mouth. He gently moved his tongue to brush against yours and the jolt of pleasure that rocked his body made him groan into your mouth.

You pulled away and smiled as the two of you panted in unison. “How was your first kiss Yota?” Your voice was soft and gentle, he wanted to beg for more but the two of you heard Yatora speaking as people moved to come into the room. You quickly parted and sat next to him.

This was a secret for the two of you for now.

#blue period #blue period fanfiction #blue period fanfic #blue period x reader #blue period x you #blue period x y/n #blue period yotasuke #yotasuke x you #yotasuke takahashi #takahashi yotasuke #yotasuke x reader

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leejenowrld · 4 months

Note

Hii bubs just read your jeno fic and its literally one of the best I ever read like ever! Firstly how are you? How was your holiday? Hope your year started well! So I made a lot of notes as I was reading, this is going to be very long. Contains spoilers and me freaking out

So starting with yn in the principal's office, I somehow read professor Johnny Suh speech about the project with his exact voice and tone like he really speaks like that sometimes-

Ooooh the panic attack, does she have anxiety?

The way jeno is so soft and smart I'm already In love with him in this wait till she found out he's a fuckboy

AND SHE DID Yeonjun spitting the facts sorry I laughed

Ok so yn and jeno are getting along they're really cute everything is peachy but I'm sending some trouble ahead

I'm still at the beginning so I may be wrong but maybe this sexy and fuckboy persona is just for show, the real jeno is who he is when he's with yn, he's naturally confident but he's also naturally laid back so he is able to have "two personalities", I even think is a bit like the Lee jeno in real life like he's so powerful and sexy on stage but out of it he's actually a sweet silly boy

No but jeno with theo had me giggling that was so cute

Oooooh its getting sexy hmmm the sexual tension hehe

Yn crying cause she wants him I get you girl

Jaemin cameo <3333

Them talking about sex I SWEAR they're getting to another level

"So you're not a needy slut?" IJBOL

Oh the similarities between her ex and jeno I hope he won't do the same

Jeno explaining his fuckboy story was so necessary but omg he's so sexy I caaaaannnnttt

The dress scene was so sensual wow the party and jeno's protective side aaa

Their differences are starting to crash I knew it would come a moment like this, but it's good how they can sort it out, I'm also happy yn enjoyed the party

They're dating OMG THEYRE DATING like officially

The smut was chefs kiss

Why does jaemin hyuck and renjun walking in on yn and jeno seems so real (jaemin and hyuck would definitely tease the hell out of him and ask if they could join and renjun would be pissed)

Oh no those stupid parties!

She's right actually, he should've told her on the phone what was happening, communication is one of the most important things in a relationship

Thank you sunwoo you're an angel but now I'm nervous

About the mean ppl I get both sides ofc yn is uncomfortable about it and jeno is also right in not letting it get into them

And I love how he's always so soft with her in these moments

FUCKING BITCH WHO ARE YOU TO TALK LIKE THAT TAKE CARE OF YOUR OWN BUSINESS I SWEAR WHO SHE THINKS SHE IS I HATE HER SO MUCH

(Quick break to pet my cat cause she won't stop meowing)

The smut and after smut scene in the car was so beautiful I almost cried with them fr

GIRL you're letting some slut get into you DONT BRRAKUP WITH HIM

I WANT TO SLAP THOSE BITCHES

Again sunwoo is an angel

Jeno I love you so much you're the sweetest

DONT LEAVE HIM YOUR DUMBASS

Girl now what are you doing on his party

Damn but it's getting wild omg that was so sexy of yn

THRYRE BAAAAAACKKKKK I LOVE THEM

Also besides the love story the project idea is so cool

The speech was AMAZING I was smiling so wide through it

"I don't believe in God, but God made you for me" THAT WAS SO GOOD WTF

I love how they're ALWAYS HORNY

Sooooooo the writing was magnificent, the plot everything was so good so well planned. I got mad, frustated, happy, emotional, you portrayed love and its difficulty so beautifully

heyyyy!!! my holiday was good thank you 🥹 happy new year to you mwah

suh being the professor is everything to me. a little behind the scenes, i wanted to add a scene with him and ten (as they’re married and both are rich and handsome together duh) but it didn’t fit :( it was gonna be the ending but i really wanted the ending to be jeno smirking and saying he deserved the blow job lmao

yns anxiety!! huge role in the fic

jeno!! yeah!! super interesting. he kinda does have two personalities but keep in mind the person he was when he was with yn was a more relaxed, laid back and reserved version of himself. he’s was holding himself back a lot. i mean, as a person he is quite chill and doesn’t really actively attract attention, everyone just finds him hot and sexy cus he has that nonchalant vibe about him, but when he’s high he’s a lot more needy and himself… but he also shows his needy and confident and touchy side when he and yn get together ;))

them talking about sex was so funny lmfao it’s just jeno finally starting to loosen himself

thank you! i do struggle with smut and i wanted to showcase yn and jeno being freaks which tbh i could’ve done better but it’s ok!!! my series of texts between them will show that lmao

he’s so soft :( softest sweetest boyfriend ever he’s whipped

it’s frustrating isn’t it!! jealous ass dumb bitches. it’s so upsetting how yns anxiety got in the way :(

it was getting wild!! we love a good reconciliation line

no like… jeno and yn are CRAZY for each other oh my god they’re the most in love people you’ll meet. i wanna showcase that even more with the texts i’m gonna post and also future one shots :) wanna write them getting engaged and their sexy honeymoon hehe

#moot marijmin #fic mfal #fic mfal jeno #fic mfal yn #leejenowrld asks

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mermaidsirennikita · 9 months

Note

Barbenheimer review!!

Haha well

First off, I loved the *experience*. I love going to the movies, but I don't know that I've ever done a double feature in a theater before--there just haven't been many movies that would motivate me to do so, and my money is usually kinda tight, and my parents certainly never did that when we were kids because money was DEF tight and I'm one of four children. I suspect studios will attempt to replicate this shit, but it's not going to work (at least, not as well). The Oppenheimer theater I was in (saw that first, thank God) was about 80% full. The Barbie theater was completely packed. I went with a couple of female friends, neither of whom would normally see Oppenheimer, lol.

I should add--I'm not a big Nolan fan. I have seen, SOMEHOW, all but like, three of his movies, so I actually know what I'm talking about with him--and I think I can say I legitimately like Memento, I like things about The Dark Night and hate other things about The Dark Knight, I appreciate Dunkirk as a spectacle but don't think I would have liked it if I hadn't seen it in a theater, I ironically enjoy parts of Tenet (I think it's like... bad, but I really love the dynamic JDW and RPattz created), and the ONLY movie of his that I love is The Prestige. To me, everything else he's done since is chasing the greatness of The Prestige, you will never convince me that isn't his best work. And EVEN THEN. I think The Prestige, like many movies of its ilk including the Good Plot of Oppenheimer, is chasing Amadeus (1984).

I don't think Oppenheimer is bad. I think that Oppenheimer would absolutely be getting shit on for certain things if anyone other than Christopher Nolan did them, as is often the case with Nolan movies because filmbros give Nolan a pass so often; and I think it is grounded and maybe saved by a very good performance from Cillian Murphy (and I gotta say, it's a testament both to issues in the script and the power of the Murphy filmography that this is not Cillian's best work ever, it's still very good and he's set for a nom for sure) and... as much as I loathe to say this... the best work RDJ, a dude I can't stand, has done in years. I think the movie does a solid job of simplifying what is a very complex story and history (.... sometimes too much) and I think it does a decent job of portraying someone who did something really bad and then regretted it in a fairly gray manner. The movie sympathizes with Oppenheimer, but I don't necessarily think it like... lionizes him. It shows that he's a genius, but like, he was; it shows that he realized that he Fucked Up and tried to advocate for a safer usage of nuclear weapons; but he did.

Here's where we run into issues. This movie absolutely did not fucking need to be 3 hours long. There is NO. WAY. This shit needed to be as long as it was. We didn't need that much backstory of Oppenheimer in school, and Oppenheimer becoming a professor, and the bones of the Manhattan Project. The really interesting shit in this movie, I've gotta be real with you, is not the bomb. The really interesting shit in this movie is the aftermath of the bomb, the realization of Huge Mistakes, and the subsequent "betrayal" by a government that never gave a fuck about human beings, including Oppenheimer. The Red Scare of it all, and the creeping resentment Lewis Strauss felt towards Oppenheimer and the scientific community at large, which I gotta say, Nolan could've leaned into even more considering how that thread connects to the resentment right wing politicians especially feel towards not only the scientific community but academic at large to this. There's where the story felt alive--the Mozart and Salieri of it all, the PRESTIGE of it all. What is compelling is not a big bomb or tons of scientists repeatedly going "you're brilliant, Oppy, but you gotta figure out whether or not you're a Commie and plan accordingly", it is THAT. That tension. One of the best parts of the movie was Chekhov's Rami Malek, because it was the culmination of that tension, you know? Also, the FIVE BILLION TIMES we had Strauss flash back to Albert Einstein giving him a bitchy look. That kind of character tension is where it's at.

But Christopher Nolan is perhaps the most aggressively WHITE MALE filmmakers of all time, so it's really not surprising to me that he thought that The Bomb was equally interesting, and that we needed six billion shots of marbles representing uranium, or whatever.

And the thing is, for all that the movie is way too long, it also skips over shit that is incredibly important. I don't necessarily think the movie needed to delve into Hiroshima and Nagasaki on an "on the ground" level, frankly because I don't think Nolan has the range and I also think that the way it affected Oppenheimer was both direct and indirect, and the film communicated that fairly well. But as much time as the movie spent in Los Alamos, as much time as we saw beautiful shots of the area, and Oppenheimer riding horses around there with his wife, we had maaaaybe five throwaway lines about indigenous people? And like, no acknowledgment of the long term physical, financial, and emotional effects the project had on the community there. That is DIRECT. They were literally right there. And again, I don't think Nolan has the range, but when so much of your behemoth of a film takes place. Right there. It just seems insane to ignore it.

Additionally, Christopher Nolan remains incapable of writing women and convincing romantic relationships, even when he's going off of a biography of a guy whose romantic relationships were quite interesting. Florence Pugh is in like, less than 10 minutes of this movie despite having done so much promo. Jean Tatlock is given so little characterization that if you didn't understand what was happening with her before the movie, I don't know that you would fully get that she was severely depressed and not just Kind of a Bitch until she kills herself. And of course, there is like, a vague allusion to her struggle with her sexuality, which contributed to that depression, but it's not explicit. The scene where she makes him read The Line to her while he's inside her is... I wanna know.... is that like something Nolan read as a rumor to have happened or did he just make it up? Lotta questions there on a lotta levels.

I don't mind the nudity in Florence's scenes, obviously; I don't mind the sex scenes, though the second one was SUPER WEIRD (and by the second one I mean the time Oppenheimer and his wife imagined him naked with Jean riding him during his 1954 questioning). But I found the positioning of Jean as the angry whore figure to Kitty's Corrupted Madonna as super odd. Like, why is Jean shown naked so often, whereas Kitty, Oppenheimer's wife with whom he had a colorful sexual history, who in general was known to be kind of a voracious woman... Never depicted in a sexual light? Why is Jean just Kind of a Sad Bitch until she dies, and Kitty is another sad bitch who is drunk in BASICALLY. EVERY. SCENE and like, hating being a mom and little else? And like, Kitty was a known alcoholic who struggled with motherhood and had a volatile relationship with her husband. But lol, with all the fucking run time this movie had, you could've given more time to making Jean and Kitty seem like people versus thorns in his side, while keeping them flawed. Just like you could've mentioned more about the OTHER dark side of Los Alamos.

Also, one of the best scenes of the movie was in fact Oppenheimer crying in a forest over his dead mistress while his drunk wife rides up on a horse (I assume they don't let her drive a car because she literally can't drop her purse without a flask falling out of it) and is like "PULL YOURSELF TOGETHER MAN". It would've been even better if these emotional bonds had been better cemented. Same with the scene where Kitty stepped up during the interrogation and went "THAT'S MY MAN RIGHT OR WRONG. AND MAYBE I WAS A COMMUNIST IDK I WAS DRUNK."

And let's be fucking real, there are so many things about this movie that filmbros would nitpick if it wasn't Nolan. Einstein appearing out of the shadows randomly in the middle of the night in his cozy sweater to be like "shit bro, sucks that they're Red Scare-ing you". The moment in the end where they were like "and a junior senator from MASSACHUSETS didn't like what you did to Oppy" and I held my breath and went "oh my God" and they went "... and that senator? JOHN FITZGERALD KENNEDY". The "read The Line You'll Say Later When the Bomb Blows Up Right Now When You're About the Blow Up Inside Me" moment. That shit is so cliche, and I don't mind (most of) it in theory, but if ANYONE ELSE did it, they would be getting dragged, and if this movie was made for people other than white guys, it would be getting dragged, but because it's Nolan, it's fine.

So those are my Oppenheimer thoughts.

My thoughts on Barbie are less complex. I think it was a better movie; I think Ryan Gosling absolutely deserves an Oscar nom; I laughed a LOT. It didn't change my life or tell me things I didn't already know, but I didn't need it to. I think the visuals were great, the costume/set/production designers really came the fuck through.

I will say lol.... I do think you can see where Greta was toned down, because Greta is a very white feminist filmmaker. And honestly, she needs a tempering hand. I think this is probably my favorite work of hers aside from Little Women, which also had a tempering hand. Like, in this case, I think that having a surface level understanding of feminism and patriarchy works for a movie like this. Because while the movie is satire, it's also extreme capitalism, and it kind of goes without saying that it can't go beyond surface level.

I think there is something to be said about like... the reality of Barbie versus what this movie was selling as Barbie, and there is something so interesting about the movie both acknowledging that and totally sidestepping it. Like, that's some fascinating shit, when you really think about it.

I would've preferred a movie where Ken and Barbie fell in love, but I guess I'm just a bad feminist (lol and I had no expectation that the movie would have them fall in love walking in--I'd pretty much figured out the plot before I began the film). I also think that the movie didn't fully make me understand why Barbie wanted to be a human, at all. Like, the human world honestly sucks balls (not in a fun way), and it felt like Barbieland was more actualized and real at the end, so. Why leave. Why would ANYONE leave. If I was America Ferrera, I would pack up my dorky husband and daughter and stay there.

I did love the mother/daughter themes; I loved the "you're so beautiful" moment. I loved the Ken War. I was surprised by how it was acknowledged that women being expected to be everything was Bad, Actually and maybe we do just wanna fucking chill the fuck out and some of us want to do nothing and be moms.

So like, I have Intellectual Critiques of Barbie, but to be clear, I did have a great time and I did laugh throughout and the theater was really fun and I want to see it again. It was a totally enjoyable experience, and I think that movie is going to stay in minds and stand the test of time and be something people watch with the future generations.

But. Lol. They Cloned Tyrone was better than either of them.

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fallofkairos · 14 days

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muse a & muse b couldn't be more different; muse a was born with a diamond - encrusted spoon in their mouth, while muse b has had to fight for everything they've ever wanted in life. somehow, though, these two gravitated towards one another & started a tumultuous relationship. toxic doesn't even begin to describe their torrid love affair, & while their friends tried to warn them away from each other, professor cantrell seemed to always push them back together again with assigned projects. some would say this was done on purpose, that the professor wanted to see a greek tragedy transform before his eyes in real time, but others only contribute it to coincidence. IMPORTANT NOTES : muse a & muse b both live in bettencourt hall, but are not roommates. muse a comes from old money, with both of their parents being business tycoons, while muse b grew up in a single parent household.

MUSE A : reserved

MUSE B : reserved

muse c, muse d, & muse e are what most people would call best friends. there aren't many instances when you'll see them around without one of the others, & the campus has grown to know them as an inseparable trio. they even have a youtube channel together, where they vlog their day to day lives & the happenings that occur. recently, though, they've jumped on the paranormal bandwagon & have been exploring abandoned places, as well as supposedly haunted locations. becoming a bit money hungry, they have even started faking evidence, & it's not uncommon for them to pretend that things are happening to them that aren't. recently, muse d received a psychic's hand encased in marble & covered in writing that the trio has been using to fake possessions. IMPORTANT NOTES : the trio currently has a little over four hundred thousand subscribers on their channel. muse c, muse d, & muse e all reside in leventis hall, with muse c & muse e being roommates.

MUSE C : open for applications

MUSE D : open for applications

MUSE E : open for applications

muse f & muse g have a relationship that rivals that of god & lucifer. both have always believed that they're better, more powerful, than the other & have been hellbent on proving that. everything from athletics, to theatrics, to academics becomes a competition for them, & their limits know no bounds. where one excels, the other aims higher, & vice versa. with professor cantrell's help, though, their rivalry has only gotten more serious & chaotic, as he pits the two against one another every chance he gets. he claims a little competition is always good for fostering growth, but many believe he just enjoys the back & forth. with tensions brewing higher than ever, though, many fear that this little rivalry might soon be pushed too far over the edge. IMPORTANT NOTES : muse f & muse g both reside in onasis hall, with muse f on floor three & muse g on floor four. muse f & muse g knew of one another before attending the university of makeleio since the two of them were the highest ranked in their allotted schools.

MUSE F : open for applications

MUSE G : open for applications

muse h, muse i, & muse j are considered to be the most popular students on campus. whether it's because they're good - looking, charming, rich, or some combination of all three, everyone practically knows their names. they're treated like royalty a lot of the time, which either makes people adore them or hate them. there's no in - between. the three of them used to be four, but that all changed when seraphina jade vanderbilt went missing. her disappearance caused a rift in the group, & they all started to splinter apart without her. there were even rumors circulating for a while that the group was somehow responsible, but said rumors only heightened their status on campus instead of diminishing it. IMPORTANT NOTES : muse h, muse i, & muse j all reside in nephus hall, which is considered to be the most tame of the dormitory buildings. muse h & muse i had a good relationship with seraphina, but muse j had a falling out with her before her disappearance.

MUSE H : open for applications

MUSE I : ambrose jeong, cha eunwoo fc.

MUSE J : open for applications

#* subplots / do not reblog.

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get-shiggy-with-it · 2 years

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RESTORATION AND 18TH CENTURY LIT. - COLLEGE AU!TOMURA X READER

✧ pairing: college student!shigaraki x fem!reader | a little bit of shigadabi

✧ word count: 21.3k | AO3 Mirror

✧ warnings: Shigaraki being an asshole, lowkey kinda hates women, fem reader only because he refers to her as female (derogatory) like once gender neutral pronouns for reader though the few times its used, Angst and Fluff and Smut Blow Jobs, Anal Fingering, college au no quirks, dabi is a little shit, dirty talk, swearing, like so much, vaginal se, vaginal fingering, oral sex, virgin shigaraki, loss of virginity degradation, mentions of lactation kink, brief exhibitionism

✧ summary: He’d never sat this close to you before, but that didn’t stop you from annoying the shit out of him for the previous whole half semester and going since it was just now passing midterms. Long enough for him to have pegged you as a textbook try-hard, pick-me bitch.And now you were filling his corner of the room with the overpowering smell of freshly washed hair and demanding he do things for you. Fucking disgusting.

Or Tomura get's paired up with you for a big final project in some bullshit English class he needs to graduate and quickly discovers that he even though he kinda hates women, he hates you a little bit less. And also really wants to stick his dick in you.

✧ a/n: First off yes this is a repost. Second: Happy birthday to the best boy and happy birthday to this fic (and also this blog)! In celebration of all the occasions and because I didn’t have time for anything else, I’ve compiled the entire R18CL main series here in one place. It was the first real shigs fic I’ve written and still one of my favorite pieces I’ve ever done. I think you can tell how much my writing has improved just in this year from reading this, but I love it how it is, so enjoy~ And finally, it goes without saying, don’t fucking rec this anywhere else.

The door at the back of the room creaked open and jarred Tomura from his half-sleep state. He didn’t look at who’d bothered to slip into this fucking class late, and instead tried to let the prof’s inane droning on Timothy Whoever The Fuck’s 18th weirdo letter book lull him into day dreaming.

He only made it about a quarter of the way back into his boredom induced coma until he was dragged unwillingly into wakefulness once more.

“Sorry, could you plug this in for me?”

Tomura jumped again when you leaned over to whisper to him, computer charger in one hand, gesturing to the outlet on the wall by his head. You’d left the typical courtesy seat empty between the two of you and he stared blankly at the way you leaned your weight on the vacant chair.

He recognized you.

The classic, dumbass teacher's pet who was always front and center of the room, iced drink at the ready looking like you belonged on the set of some god awful college b movie.

Well, almost always. You certainly had that loud ass drink, but you’d tucked yourself at the end of his row towards the back of the room and was clearly a bit embarrassed for bursting in almost 15 minutes late.

Tomura swallowed hard as your shirt gaped in the front. It took an immense amount of control to not gaze outright into the swell of your chest.

“You good?” you asked softly, head cocked like you were straight out of a fucking manga panel—tits on display with that stupid innocent, puzzled expression.

“Uh yeah, sorry,” Tomura mumbled.

You offered him this gross, clearly fake smile—because why the hell would you be grinning like that if it wasn’t just because you wanted something from him—as he threaded the cord behind his chair and plugged it in.

“Thanks,” you replied and turned back towards the professor, typing away cause you actually take notes in this class.

Of fucking course you did.

Probably trying to impress everyone with how you typed practically every word the prof said. Tomura decidedly did not take notes, and didn’t really pay that much attention in general. Usually he just played some trashy phone game under the desk or dozed with his head against the cement wall.

It had gotten to that portion of the semester when it was warmer outside but the buildings still had the heat cranked all the way up, especially here in the basement where the classroom was. That environment along with his usual hoodie/joggers combo created grade A napping conditions that Tomura took full advantage of.

As a rule, he actually cared about school and he did relatively well. But this was just some dumbass liberal arts requirement course that had nothing to do with his actual major, so he was perfectly fine with coasting. Why his comp sci degree required him to take a fucking Restoration era English class, he had no clue. Apparently neither did his advisor other than that the ‘administration recommended it’ so their students would have a ‘well rounded learning experience.’

It was almost certainly just a cash grab to make him take more credits than was necessary to graduate, but whatever. He was here now. And so were you. Your presence was overwhelmingly clear, typing away and smelling like one of those insanely specific laundry detergent label scents—fucking rolling meadows and grandmother’s clean linen or something like that.

He’d never sat this close to you before, but that didn’t stop you from annoying the shit out of him for the previous whole half semester and going since it was just now passing midterms. Long enough for him to have pegged you as a textbook try-hard, pick-me bitch. You contributed to discussion at every opportunity, turned in shit early, and debated other classmates regularly enough to disrupt his in-course sleep schedule.

The way you dressed pissed him off too, with a particular style that was enough to stand out but not so over the top that it would cause disinterest from any potential mates.

And now you were filling his corner of the room with the overpowering smell of freshly washed hair and demanding he do things for you.

Fucking disgusting.

“Tomura Shigaraki.”

He jumped a third time, attention directed from his lap to the front of the room where the prof stood, listing out names from the board. He heard your name next followed by Kai Chisaki. The list was projected on the board as well, grouping everyone into twos or threes with “Final Project Partners” listed in bold Helvetica font at the top.

Only fucking English profs used Helvetica.

He vaguely remembered mentions of a final presentation—one of like three grades in this class cause the prof was almost certainly a sadist.

No, not almost—definitely. Otherwise he wouldn’t have stuck him with you and that weirdo Kai pre-med student who insisted on acting so elitist you’d think he already had his fucking M.D.

One time he asked Tomura to move seats at the start of the semester because he looked “dirty” and Kai liked to sit in the back—which, fair enough, it wasn’t like Tomura showered as frequently as he probably should but what the fuck??

With you rushing in late, chest out and panting every now and again from your apparent sprint across campus, Tomura was certain he’d be subjected to a whole 6 weeks of watching you try to mount that fucking Kai dude instead of actually working.

This was going to be a nightmare.

From the end of the table, he saw you shifting and turned to find that stupid fucking smile flashed his way once again.

If you had a tail, he’d bet it would be wagging.

“Hey, well that’s convenient,” you chuckled and plopped down directly next to him, sliding your noisy ass drink across the table with you and brushing against his thigh when you shifted your bag to the side.

“Yeah,” he nodded.

It most certainly was not.

But Tomura would never say that because—as his roommate put it so kindly—he was kinda a pussy.

People made him nervous, they always had. That’s why he liked computers so much. Code made sense, there were clear rules and when something didn’t work out, he could fix it eventually, but you couldn’t see people’s codes. You had to fucking guess at shit and it made his anxiety skyrocket which the sides of his neck and finger tips suffered for.

So he cowered like the fucking dog you probably thought he was instead and kept his eyes on the floor, letting you set up in silence.

“Who was our third?” you asked, glancing around the room. “Sorry, I was busy making a shared drive and I came in late so I missed that last bit.”

Why the hell did you feel the need to apologize all the goddamn time? Seriously, who would believe you were actually sorry for being irritating as hell.

And god if he thought you were irritating.

“Kai,” he grumbled simply as the man in question sauntered over to the table and fucking clorox wiped down the seat before sitting.

Tomura watched your smile falter just a bit and grinned inwardly at the slip in your fake little persona. But you didn’t say anything more, just moved your chair back so the three of you were in a semi-circle and pulled up a few pdfs on your laptop.

“Cool, so I was looking over the directions on the syllabus last week and I set up a little work delegation thing so we can distribute everything pretty evenly,” you jumped right in, tone matter of fact in the down-to-business manner he was used to hearing from you during class discussions.

It was better than you so clearly forcing yourself to be overly polite, and he honestly couldn’t really care less if you wanted to take charge of this thing. You seemed kinda bossy, but he begrudgingly admitted that your suck up behavior did mean you sort of knew what you were talking about. He was just here to pass and you might actually make that a lot easier.

It was okay as long as he was taking advantage of you, he told himself. And you would be too stupid to notice, so he could play your game and play pretend nice all the way to an A.

That walking condescension on the other hand—

“I’m not doing that,” Kai huffed through his ever-present mask.

Tomura wasn’t actually sure he’d ever seen the bastards face without it.

“What?” you laughed awkwardly. “Yes you are, you don’t really have much of a choice.”

You stared at your classmate who simply stared right back with his own, equally confused expression.

“Why do you look so surprised?” you asked after a moment of silence.

You weren’t smiling anymore and your voice had dropped down about a fucking octave. At least you sounded more like a person and not some wannabe uwu gamer bitch.

“People don’t talk to me like that,” Kai looked at you down his nose, legs spread wide and elbow resting on his knees.

Tomura could feel the pretentiousness wafting from him in waves, and waited with baited breath for you to get kicked off your pedestal. Just a bit though, he did need you around to do most of his work for this thing.

But in a shocking turn of events, you just laughed dryly twice and turned back to your laptop screen, mumbling as you did.

“Really? Well they should.”

Tomura would have laughed too, but he didn’t feel like inflating your ego. Kai on the other hand looked a bit like you’d just spit on shoes and furrowed those stupid, plucked thin eyebrows at the back of your head.

“So Tomura, you code right?” you asked, turning away from Kai completely to address him. “I just remember you saying you were in comp sci when we did introductions.”

He was taken aback by the knowledge that he existed as a person in your head outside of this room for a moment and simply nodded—suddenly feeling far too hot in his black on black sweats and hoodie.

God just talking to you made his skin burn.

“Great, cause we’re allowed to chose the medium we present in and I was thinking of taking it in a more creative direction cause I’ve had this prof before and he eats that shit up,” you begin to ramble again, scrolling through a bulleted list, shifting the screen for him to see.

“Right,” he murmured, still surprised you’d thought this far and not...actively hating what you’d brainstormed.

Well, it was a bit juvenile and you clearly didn’t know what you were talking about but the concept wasn’t horrendous. He could work with that and it shouldn’t be too hard. It kinda seemed like you’d overestimated a bit with how challenging it would actually be and saddled yourself with most of the heavy lifting. That or you were just a control freak which was a little more believable.

He wished you would stop looking at him over the edge of the screen. He could feel himself starting to sweat. Rivulets falling down the nape of his neck and racing across his bare chest under the sweatshirt. Tomura sorta regretted not wearing a shirt underneath but he knew that he wouldn’t have taken off the insulating layer even if that had been an option.

It would just mean you had more drying, pale as fuck skin to look at and judge him for because he knew that’s what you were doing. Fucking vapid and shallow like everyone else.

“It’s really rough so far, but I have it the gist outlined,” you indicated to another tab and then turned back to Kai who had been sitting silently glaring daggers into your back. “So, Kai, since you’re in STEM I figured you’d be okay with doing more of the preliminary research—”

“I don’t think so,” Kai interrupted, shaking his head and pushing off his knees to lean back in the cheap, plastic seat. “Look, it’ll be easier for all of us if you two just make it look pretty and I can handle the oral presentation.”

You gaped and looked to Tomura with this pathetic fucking incredulous stare, like you thought he’d back you up.

Which actually, now that he thought about it was probably a good idea—he did need you to remain somewhat cordial with him—but he certainly didn’t care enough to defend you in any way. Kai was a dick, sure, but he wasn’t gonna let you rope him into being your white knight or whatever.

He settled for a similarly disgruntled downward twitch of his lips. The movement pulled at the cracking skin which stung as it tore open even more. Tomura felt the familiar crawling feeling on his neck and shifted in his seat to resist the urge to scratch.

He couldn’t pinpoint why exactly you staring at him was so uncomfortable. He didn’t like you, he didn’t care about you and by extension didn’t give two shits what you thought of him, but anything he might have said shriveled on his tongue when you spoke or looked in his eyes too long.

Tomura had never made a habit of talking to females and they certainly had never wanted anything to do with him either.

Maybe he was fucking allergic or something.

Whatever the case, you seemed to take his half frown as a sign of solidarity and leaned back in your own seat.

“Okay, look,” you retorted. “If you’re seriously not gonna at least try to cooperate, then there is actually an option to do the project by yourself and I suggest you take it.”

The look on your face was distinctly impolite. There was a sharpness to the set of your jaw that Tomura had never seen before, but it looked practiced enough that he could bet it was simply the snake that resided in every woman just waiting to come out.

“Look sweetheart—” that masked jerk began, also for some fucking reason looking to Tomura for support.

For someone who was very much used to blending into the background scenery, this was the most eye contact Tomura had ever made in a day.

Except on the rare occasions his roommate had friends over and he had to make the dreaded trek from his room to reach the fridge.

“Oh yeah I’m not doing that,” you closed your laptop sharply and rolled your eyes. “I get it, but I’m really just trying to graduate. I don’t think this is going to work out and you,” Tomura froze as you shifted your gaze to him once again, “seem okay, so Tomura and I can just work this out by ourselves and you can find a different group.”

Kai scoffed behind the black layer of fabric covering his mouth and slung his backpack over his shoulder. “Whatever.”

Tomura watched him saunter straight out the door as the room was filled with the shuffling of notebooks and zipping of backpacks.

“God,” you huffed and turned back to him.

His raw skin burned under the new wave of heat and accompanying moisture that slicked his skin when you scooted closer to him. That clean laundry and shampoo smell was suffocating from this proximity.

Did you fucking bathe in the stuff?

He was becoming increasingly aware of his less than pleasant aroma and the fact that you not scrunching your nose up in disgust just out of some stupid, ingrained need to appease him.

“Well, that was...weird,” you chuckled in a way that was probably meant to break the tension.

Unfortunately Tomura felt more like he was about to break out in hives if you came any closer so it really just ended up making the atmosphere ten times more awkward. At least for him. You, somehow, remained resolutely unaware.

“Mhm,” he hummed in response and picked silently at the skin of his fingers.

“Anyway, I have a meeting in a few but we can trade numbers and pick a time to meet up sometime tomorrow maybe?” you suggested, quickly saving the steadily degrading vibes of the conversation and pulled out your phone.

He really hated the full body pulsation that rushed through him at the thought of getting a girls number. It made him fucking sick at himself for falling into your stupid trap to get him interested. Was your plan to just use him to get a good grade or whatever and then block his texts?

It wasn’t like Tomura didn’t know about his status as the class ‘freak.’ That one guy everyone whispers about and makes sure not to sit next to. And he knows you know, so why the hell else would you act so nice?

He wanted to say something scathing in return. That he could do the whole thing by himself too—which he definitely couldn’t but that was irrelevant—and that he didn’t need you bossing him around either.

“Sure thing,” he said instead and took your offered phone all too eagerly, typing in his number and watching as you shot off a text back so he’d have yours.

His phone buzzed against his thigh and he jumped a fourth time, but you seemed not to notice as you packed your bag and grabbed your basic ass drink. The ice clattered against the tumbler, dropping cool condensation against the searing skin of his hand.

Tomura shivered as you waved over your shoulder and slipped out the door with another rush of students.

He sat silently in the empty room for a moment, trying to process the last hour. He pinched himself idly, wondering if it had all been just a weird dream, but the results were inconclusive. A minute or two passed before he pulled out his phone to scroll through the list of reddit and discord notifs to find your text.

Sent at 2:47 pm:

�� pEopLe DoN’t TaLK tO mE liKE ThAt

— not very plus ultra of him...smh

— anyway, library at 6 tomorrow ?

Tomura caved, digging his nails into the side of his neck and hissed at the pain, confirming the day's horrible reality.

---

Tomura hadn’t stopped staring at his phone since he left the apartment. It was second nature by now—head down at a nearly ninety degree angle, hoodie pulled up to hide hair he hadn’t bothered to comb in weeks, and phone out, held just far enough away that he could see the pavement behind the screen.

He’d found that people tended to naturally avoid him this way and he didn’t have to risk accidentally making eye contact. It was still a bit nerve wracking to venture into buildings he didn’t expressly have to for classes, so he was still hesitant to make the voyage from his apartment to the library. But he’d made the mistake of mentioning plans to his roommate and the bastard wouldn’t leave him alone about it afterwards until he was practically shoved out with the door locked behind him.

He was half tempted to make up some excuse last minute and go hide out at the only cafe on campus he could tolerate, but Tomura knew he was just delaying the inevitable. Biting the bullet now would help to not prolong his suffering.

Your text thread glared up at him in stark white on blue as he pushed past a crowd of students by the library entrance and flashed his ID to the attendant.

Group Project Bitch:

— hey I got us a room on the third floor, all the way in the back

—text me when you’re here I’ll wave you in, it’s kinda hard to find T-T

sounds good—

He shot off a quick text to you that he was hoping on the elevator. The other two guys in the lift may have given him a dirty look for only going up to the third floor, but Tomura sure as hell wasn’t going to risk the physical exertion of stares when just the thought being stuck in a small room alone with you for god knows how long already had him sweating.

When he stepped out, you were leaned against one of the 90s-green shelves, scrolling aimlessly through your phone. He panicked momentarily, thinking he’d have to get your attention cause just walking up without saying anything would be weird right?

He wasn’t sure.

He didn’t do shit like this.

Thankfully, you looked up at the chime of the lift and waved him over. His red sneakers squeaked as they scuffed the linoleum floors and he already regretted choosing his tighter fitting pair of sweats. The tapered legs that hugged his ankles and thin calves rubbed against his skin and stung the raw patches.

“Hey, thanks for coming,” you said softly and he nodded, following as you began to weave through the stacks. “Sorry it was short notice, graduation’s coming up so I'm swamped with meetings.”

“It’s fine, I didn’t have anything going on.”

He cringed internally at the way his voice cracked, trying to keep the usual rasp to a minimum. His roommate said it was from the innumerable hours he spent shouting at his monitor or on discord, which was probably true but to you he was sure he just sounded like a fucking teenager.

“Cool, I’ve been set up for awhile so feel free to move some stuff,” you talked a bit louder now that you’d both stepped into the study room and shut the door.

Tomura looked around. You’d snagged one of the nicer ones at least, with the big monitors he could cast his screen onto and those comfy chairs he liked but could never beat anyone too on the lower floors.

You were right, there was shit all over the big table at the center of the room. Notes and printed out readings with highlights galore and sticky notes littering the pages were scattered all over. What a show off. You probably tossed all this stuff out so he’d think you were actually intelligent or some shit.

Kicking a pile off of the nearest plush armchair, Tomura took a seat and pulled his laptop out. There was a jack in the middle of the table and you plugged yours in to cast onto the big monitor.

You made a fucking power point for him.

This couldn’t be real.

“So I know I ran some stuff by you in class but essentially I was thinking we make like a simple Twine type thing using the rhetorical argument Swift is making…”

You started rambling again and Tomura almost immediately tuned you out. His eyes drifted between the rough outline you were flicking through on the board and the laptop you had your nose buried in.

It was covered in stickers, pretty obviously stereotypical for someone as obsessed with being ‘cool’ as you clearly were. But as he scanned through the various old meme phrases and aesthetic shit, he caught a couple of game references he recognized and a panel cutout from one of his favorite manga.

He almost fell into your trap for a moment, feeling a rush at the prospect of someone—much less a chick—being into his main hyperfixations.

But it was quickly crushed under everything his years trolling subreddits had taught him. People like you didn’t actually have interests beyond the attention and dick it got them. Plus that manga was pretty popular anyway, you probably didn’t even read it, just thought the line was funny or made you sound quirky. That had to be why you felt the need to drop it in your first texts.

“What do you think?” you asked, making good on your new habit of startling the hell out of him.

Tomura blinked, gaze instinctively turning to you but the blatant way you stared made his mouth turn to sand paper, so he looked resolutely back at the color-coded bullet points on the screen.

“Look’s fine,” he mumbled.

The more he glanced over it, the more it actually did look fine. A bit more than fine, really, which pissed him off even more. The little choose-your-own debate style story was not a terrible way to make fucking Whatever Swift interesting and it kinda looked like you’d bothered to google some simple coding which gave him a better idea of what you were looking for.

It was...good.

And that so fucking annoying.

Well, he wasn’t sure if annoying was the right word for it, but the proposal coupled with your apparent lack of disgust at working with him made his face hot and that only ever happened otherwise when his roommate left the dishes out for weeks or when some newb on his server fucked up their raids.

Then, you had the audacity to plop down in the chair next to him and—

“You can tell me to fuck off if you want,” you began, shuffling in the chair to cross your legs on the cushion, “but I was hoping you’d be willing to show me how you do some of the coding stuff? I tried on my own, but I have literally no clue what I’m doing.”

He could smell you again, like the whole fucking health and beauty aisle at the grocery store. When he turned his head a bit to look at you around the curtain of his hair, you were crooked—back against the armrest and facing him.

“Why do you want to know?” he asked, sounding a bit less rude than he would have liked to.

You just fucking stared right at him though, didn’t wrinkle your nose at how greasy his roots were or how he was wearing the same hoodies as yesterday.

“I’ve always been interested in it, but my program is kinda stressful and I don’t have much free time so I never learned,” you offered and for once Tomura found he didn’t feel his skin crawl under your unwavering gaze.

The dry, cracked area around his eyes burned though as sweat beaded on his forehead and he quickly wiped at his face with a loose sweatshirt sleeve. The garment hung off his shoulders, bought a size too big that he never ended up growing into.

“What’s your major?”

He found the words slipped easily from him. It was the quintessential question you asked of anyone in college when you met, but he’d never been interested in the answer before.

You babbled a bit about your specific area of study and your voice was surprisingly not as infuriating as he remembered it being before. It was softer, he thought, than when you were soapboxing in class about the sexist implications of old as fuck poetry—it had a less grating quality and was almost pleasing to the ear.

Or Tomura would have said that if he thought you deserved the compliment.

But, obviously you didn’t.

So he didn’t.

He just pretended to care about what you were saying and didn’t hang onto every word at all. Actually he was more enraptured in the way your lips moved when you talked. You used your hands a lot too, but his eyes were ensnared on the way your mouth quirked and dipped, at the occasional flash of your tongue between strong teeth. When he leaned in a bit, he could smell your breath too: fruity gum and the remnants of whatever you were always drinking in that loud as fuck cup. He wondered now what exactly it was, so he could buy it and get a better idea of what you mouth might taste—

Nope.

No, see this was exactly what he wasn’t supposed to be thinking about. How were you doing this to him? What a fucking slut.

Tomura steeled his nerves as you started explaining the extracurriculars you did on the side.

“My roommate freshman year actually started a gaming club and so I’ve gotten more into that over the years,” you explained, pointing at the stickers on your laptop case.

“Are you talking about The League?”

“Yeah, I didn’t know if you’d heard of it,” you shrugged.

He knew of the gaming club on campus. He’d thought about joining when he enrolled but the allure of anonymity online gaming provided was too strong. Plus his discord server didn’t have annoying weekly meetings.

The thought of you, up late and illuminated by the blue light of a tv screen, tucked away in one of the basement rooms in the media building was...strange. It also prompted an array of new images—you in those fucking cat ear headsets, seated in his lap as he trashed you in Mario Kart which was even stranger.

Tomura had to physically shake his head to dislodge the thought.

“Uh, we should probably work on this right?” he cringed at the way his voice cracked compared to your own, smooth tone.

You should narrate those fucking sleep time mediation things. His roommate used to hide wireless speakers in his room and blast those when Tomura stayed up too late. It was annoying as shit then, but if it was you talking, he probably wouldn’t have minded so much.

Or no, no he would definitely mind.

Yes. It would have been worse if anything.

“Oh shit, you right. It’s been like two hours.”

He glanced down at his laptop and saw that it had, indeed, been two hours since he got there. He’d willingly spoken to you for two goddamn hours. It felt like no time had passed at all, but the sun was definitely setting, the overhead fluorescent bulbs taking over as the main light source in the room.

Weird.

So you settled back in your chair, typing away like you always did, but the sound wasn’t nearly as frustrating as before. Occasionally, you’d glance over his shoulder and ask questions about what he was working on, but mostly the two of you settled into a comfortable silence.

This pattern continued for the next few weeks. As the weather warmed, you began to show a bit more skin. He never worked up the nerve to comment on the thick expanse of bare thigh that tapered off nicely into your calf, or the curve of your arms not hidden behind knit sweaters—hell even your fucking shoulders were hard not to look at.

Maybe all those high school dress codes weren’t actually so full of shit afterall. Cause he was definitely distracted by the way your neck swooped into the exposed skin of your shoulder and down your back on more than one occasion.

Did all girls know that? Was it some kind of massive conspiracy to crumble the patriarchy or some crap to go flashing bare shoulders everywhere?

Regardless if you really were trying to hypnotize him into liking you, Tomura stayed resolutely in his monochrome, long sleeved attire, and if you noticed the behavior you never said a word.

Never said a word about his allergy ridden skin, peeling lips or scarred throat. Never commented on his terrible posture or said his eyes were creepy. Even when he’d occasionally toss a negative remark your way, you never retaliated maliciously. Just brushed him off with a jovial ‘don’t be a dick’ and a playful, but hard slap to his chest or the back of his head.

The two of you always met in the same, secluded room on the third floor. You’d talk with him in class sometimes or shoot him texts about random bits of inspiration or a late night game memes, but for the most part, your conversations were confined to that room. He found he preferred the study room ‘you’ best. You weren’t as stiff. There was more of a solidity to you, like he’d seen when you told off that Kai bastard.

It...grew on him.

He was irrationally anxious that there would be a time when you couldn’t secure this particular room—with it’s big monitor and comfy chairs and less annoying ‘you’—but he’d been reassured after your third work session.

Someone had knocked softly at the thick, wooden door and a head of wild, bright pink hair peaked around the crack.

“Sup bro,” the intruder quipped, as they stepped fully into the room.

“Hey, Spinner,” you mumbled back, looking up momentarily from the essay portion of your presentation before going back to typing.

Spinner had seemed to notice him at that point and offered a small wave in his direction. “Oh hey, sorry, thought you were alone,” he said quickly.

“Nah, this is Tomura,” you said, glancing up again and jerking your thumb in his direction.

Tomura nodded and tugged at his hoodie strings to stop from scratching under the newcomer’s gaze. He’d gotten used to you, but other people still made him a bit nervous.

“Nice to meet you,” Spinner had a nice smile, bright and flashy when he spoke. He leaned against the door and crossed his arms, looking around the room. “You got the nice one, huh. How’d you manage that?” he asked.

“Yeah,” you half closed your laptop and stretched a bit. “Jin was working the front desk, so I’ve just been bribing him with vending machine snacks.”

“He hasn’t gotten himself fired yet?” Spinner laughed incredulously, but not unkindly.

“Surprisingly not, but he’s completely corrupt now,” you were picking at the cuticle of your thumb and Tomura fixated on the way the skin split off at the nail. Just like his. “A couple packs of chips and a Monster and I get the most bitchin’ study room whenever I want.”

“Damn,” Spinner chuckled again and Tomura really wished that he’d leave already. He was beginning to feel himself fading into the upholstery as the conversation left him in the dust. The divergence of your attention away from him or the project was even more annoying that you were. “Well, are you coming to The League meeting tonight? We’re busting out a Smash tournament.”

“That’s tonight?” you asked, eyes perking up but sliding subtly in Tomura’s direction. “Sorry, I think Tomura and I are gonna be working on this project for a while longer and I’m kinda burnt out. But next time, yeah?”

Spinner rolled his eyes but nodded and kicked off the wall. “That’s not very sexy of you,” he chided and waved a hand in parting. “Gonna work yourself directly into the fucking grave.”

“Jokes on you, I welcome death.”

You buried yourself in the screen again and Tomura actually felt a bit grateful for you ending the conversation before he got too painfully awkward.

But Spinner stopped before he left, looking Tomura up and down from the frayed strings of his black hoodie to the tips of his worn red sneakers.

“Nice to meet you, man,” he said with a wide grin. “Feel free to tag along next time if you want, we always need more players.”

The door clicked softly shut behind him and Tomura relaxed back into the silence.

He did end up tagging along—though he spent most of the time hanging off your heels like a lost puppy—to the next meeting of your gaming club and the one after that. Frustratingly enough, he learned that your interests did also extend into skills as you almost bested him in a few rounds Smash. Your profile, lit only by the flashing screen lights, was even more striking outside of his imagined imitations.

So much so that it found its way into his head late at night when he was too tired to log onto his server. So much so that it had his cock growing firm and tenting his grey sweats without even the visual aid of his go to porn clips. So much so that sometimes, he felt inclined to do something about the throbbing between his legs. So much so that he thought about the way you picked the skin by your fingers. How it looked like his. How your hand might feel like his but softer. Smoother around the edges. With your sweet voice whispering in his ear, making him whine and pant and spill white ropes of release onto his stomach.

But it was only because you were hot.

And you were practically begging for him to jack off to the thought of you with those outfits and liking all the shit he liked and noticing when he shrunk away from conversations or including him in them when he started to feel that awful sense of fading into the background.

Yeah.

Everybody jerks it sometimes to their group project partners if their ass is nice enough.

Right?

---

Dabi’s mouth was wet and so fucking warm as he swallowed around Tomura’s dick.

“Oh fuck…” he groaned as Dabi hummed around his length and did that thing where he flicked the ball of his tongue ring over Tomura’s slit.

Bright blue eyes stared up through deceptively long lashes, smirking at the way Tomura drooled as he got his soul sucked out the tip of dick. The mattress underneath him creaked at the negligible weight of both their bodies. Dabi settled on his stomach between Tomura’s pale thighs leaving fingerprint bruises in soft flesh.

They did this sometimes, though he wasn’t not quite sure when exactly it started. Dabi had been his randomly assigned roommate freshman year and he grew so used to living with him that the two of them had just silently, yet mutually agreed not to fuck something up that wasn’t broken. They both berated each other for their strange and somewhat disgusting habits—Dabi would say that Tomura was a gross shut in creep who needed a fucking shower and Tomura called Dabi out on his slutty pastimes and obsession with piercing the hell out of every available inch of skin.

And sometimes they sucked each other off.

It was overall not a terrible arrangement—Dabi got his fill of dick and Tomura could no longer be made fun of for being completely inexperienced. Plus, as much as he was loathe to admit, Dabi was really fucking good at oral. Like, demonically good. He’d been going down on Tomura for so long now too that he’d learned all the things that had him spilling onto that pierced tongue in minutes.

Tomura jerked from his thoughts when two, lube slicked fingers prodding at his ass.

“Dabi, what the fuck are you—” he protested, wiggling his scrawny hips up the bed and inadvertently letting his cock slip out of the inviting heat between his roommate’s lips.

He couldn’t see much other than the shaking mop of black hair and pale hands with chipped black nail polish digging into his legs and yanking him back.

“Shut up freak,” Dabi slurred, words slick with spit and Tomura’s precum. Dabi said it tasted like battery acid, but it never stopped him from guzzling it like he did with cheap whiskey and cigarettes on the weekends. “I know you like it.”

He did like it but he wasn’t about to contribute to the fucking manic grin Dabi was giving him as he circled the tight ring of muscle, slipping in a finger to the first knuckle.

Tomura’s head flopped back on the pillows as he bit back a low moan, “Fuck off.”

“If you say so,” Dabi shoved his finger in roughly, squeezing a second in behind it and letting Tomura bask in the burn of being stretched too quickly before ripping his hands away.

“No!” Tomura wailed pretty fucking shamelessly and grabbed the retreating wrist, placing Dabi’s tatted hand back on his dick that throbbed and leaked painfully.

“Dude, what’s gotten the fuck into you?” his roommate asked, smirking still, but pumping his cock loosely nonetheless. “Our walls are thin as hell, you know I can hear you jerkin it in here every night, and now you’re practically begging for me to suck you off. Usually I gotta come to you.”

He was infuriatingly right again.

Tomura had indeed asked for him to do this, which was definitely out of character for him. Most of the time they ended up in this position, it was because Dabi spent hours hounding him about it or just fucking dropped to his knees and whipped Tomura’s cock out in the middle of a movie night or snuck into his room while Tomura was gaming and swallowed him whole just to laugh at the way his online friends reacted to the noises.

He’s just been so pent up lately, and you insisting on fucking touching his arm or sitting on the floor between his feet at League meetings was really not helping it.

“I don’t know,” Tomura lied, both to Dabi and himself in the hopes that the head of black hair would just go back to bobbing on his dick like he so desperately needed it to.

“Bro, I have fucked with enough people to know when they’re wishing I was someone else,” Dabi scoffed and ran a blessedly hot tongue from base to tip and suckled softly at the blush pink head before pulling back with a wet pop. “So who is it?”

“I’m not fucking thinking about anyone,” Tomura hissed, fisting Dabi’s spiky, black locks and thrusting into his mouth till he felt the contractions of Dabi gagging around his length. “Usually you're jumping at the chance to get dick in your mouth, so why does it matter?”

Dabi pulled back, wiping the silvery string of spit leaking past his lips away and scowling as his fingers ghosted over Tomura’s balls and sank back into his pliant ass.

“Seriously creep, I’m five seconds away from ghosting and you can fuck your hand like the sad little bitch you are. So tell me their name or I’m walking right now.”

Tomura huffed as he felt Dabi’s long, rough fingers pulled from him again and the heat of his mouth growing farther away.

“Ugh fine, it’s that bitch I’ve been working on the English thing with.”

Dabi made a face like his brain was buffering.

“Seriously?” he asked, mouth gaping in a way that had Tomura even more furious his dick wasn’t buried in it.

“Yes!” he shouted and grabbed Dabi’s cheeks in both hands, sinking past his waiting lips and practically purring when he felt them close around the base as his long tongue massaged the shaft. “Oh god yes…”

Dabi rolled his eyes, managing to look smug even with a cock stretching his lips taught against the piercings. He used to try and tease Tomura about how small his dick was, but it was hard to believe him. Especially with how he choked sometimes when Tomura got rough with him despite his boasts of lacking a gag reflex. Not to mention how he looked now, jaw probably aching with the stretch and loving every second of it.

Tomura lazily bucked his hips up and whined high when the fingers in his ass curled and thrust against that fucking spot he hadn’t known was there until Dabi found it for him.

The pleased sound he made tapered off into a growl though, when his roommate with questionable benefits pulled off again to run his slutty fucking mouth.

“Tell me about it,” he mumbled, kitten licking at Tomura’s cock and running the ball of his piercing through the slit again. Tomura gulped when he pulled it back into his mouth to swallow the bead of precum he’d collected. “I’ve seen your fucking paramour around before, pretty serious about school though. And Kinda out of your league too, not gonna lie. So, what would you do if your cute little partner was here instead?”

Tomura bristled at the insult but couldn’t keep his pissed off look when Dabi went back to sucking his cock like a pro and curling those fucking fingers against his prostate. When he did speak, he blushed hard at the way his voice cracked and sounded like he was crying.

“I don’t fucking—holy shit—know,” he gasped and Dabi hummed both to egg him on and to get a whole new wave of precum gushing out of Tomura’s dick.

“C’mon man,” Dabi groaned, and Tomura distinctly heard the sound of a pants zipper and felt Dabi’s hips canting against the sheets.

That fucking masochistic whore. He would get off to Tomura dirty talking about someone else while he sucked his dick.

He considered stopping the whole thing right there, but then Dabi was sinking a third finger into his ass and thrusting hard while he hallowed his cheeks around Tomura’s cock and sucked—

“Tits!” Tomura cried and covered his burning, red cheeks with his hands. “I want to put my fucking face in them and taste them in my mouth. Sometimes I can see the outline of their nipples when we’re working and the air conditioning comes on and I want to suck on them so fucking bad I can’t think about anything else the whole night.”

Once he got started, Tomura found the words just spilled from him like a dam had burst. Dabi, the depraved bastard, groaned loud and ground his pierced dick harder against the mattress as he continued to deep throat Tomura’s cock and fuck his ass at the perfect angle.

“Sometimes when they drag me to their stupid club I lose the rounds cause I—oh god, oh fuck—just imagine them in my lap, sitting on my cock and fucking writhing and squeezing me while we face off. Such a fucking—Dabi more!—stereotypical try-hard, bitch but I want to be inside them so fucking bad,” he felt actual tears stinging the raw corners of his eyes when Dabi sped up on his dick.

Tomura scrapped his nails against Dabi’s scalp, holding on for dear life as his breathing became even more ragged than usual. His friend’s cruelty streak reared its ugly head as Dabi sensed the tensing of Tomura’s balls and the clench of his tight ass and slowed down a fraction, keeping him teetering on the edge of an explosively pleasurable release.

“Fucking asshole,” he growled, but didn’t dare try to fuck Dabi’s face lest he make good on his threat to leave Tomura high and dry. “I just—shit, ah, don’t stop—they talk to me sometimes and I just wanna suck their tongue into my mouth so they shut up and I need to hear them fucking falling apart for me or using that stupid, stuck up teacher voice on me and fucking my ass—Dabi Fuck—is that what you wanted to hear?”

Dabi, because he got off on being a little shit, gave him one last delicious swallow before pulling back and fisting Tomura’s sopping wet cock. The fingers had stopped thrusting and were now pressed hard against his prostate, sending shocks through his body and making him twitch violently as his blood rushed with endorphins. He never stopped grinding his own dick against Tomura’s cotton sheets the whole time.

“You got it bad huh, don’t ya creep,” he mused, letting a fat glob of spit fall from his lips and keep his palm slick. “That’s the most I’ve ever heard you talk about fucking anything, much less another actual person.”

“No I fucking don’t, “ Tomura writhed against the pillows, giving in to the undeniable urge to simultaneously fuck up into Dabi’s hand and ride his fingers.

“Who knew you were such a desperate whore, falling for the first person to show you a modicum of attention,” Dabi jeered and squeezed the tip of his dick hard, listening to Tomura let out a choked sob. “I’m actually kinda proud of you, bro. My little neckbeard baby’s growing up.”

Dabi cooed at Tomura, sinking sharp teeth deep into the meat of his thigh and sucking a bruise into the flesh.

“You’re the one—nghh—getting off on it,” Tomura clapped back but didn’t bother denying it again.

There was a sense of dread growing in his gut alongside the mounting pleasure of his orgasm that Dabi was currently holding hostage. Dabi may have had a dickish personality just as massive as the actual dick that was currently painting Tomura’s comforter in stains, but he knew him.

And he did, admittedly have much more experience with these types of things than Tomura.

“Fuck yeah I am,” Dabi grunted. “Last time I let you return the favor you bit my fucking cock. I gotta get off somehow.”

“Don’t say rude shit to me and I won’t bite you.”

“Watch it, Tomura,” Dabi huffed and nipped at his thigh again. “You should be thanking me for my services.”

“Not if you’re gonna keep running your mouth instead of sucking me off,” he tried to sound intimidating but he was well and truly wrecked and couldn’t find the energy to give his words an edge.

“You should ask them out,” Dabi continued, ignoring Tomura’s failed attempts at banter. “Bring ‘em over or some shit. Maybe then if I lock down that blonde piece of ass I’ve been talking to, we’ll both have much more interesting things to go down on.”

“Your whore ass is the one always jumping me, don’t act like it’s a fucking chore,” Tomura groaned as Dabi started licking at his cock again, pressing sloppy, half kisses on the tip as he jerked it in his fist.

“Not my fault I get bored sometimes,” he replied and closed his eyes as Tomura clenched particularly hard around Dabi’s relentless fingers. “But seriously, you should go for it. I’d kill to find out if you’re just as bad at eating pussy as you are sucking dick.”

“Fuck y—” Tomura started to say when Dabi reared up till they were chest to chest and their foreheads knocked together.

“I fucking will if you don’t shut up, creep, and I think it’d be so much better if you handed your fucking virginity to that pretty little partner bitch instead,” he said and stunned Tomura into silence when he licked into his mouth.

Dabi had kissed him before, but Tomura could count the number of occasions on one hand and almost all had been when his punk ass roommate was drunk as hell and in his feels about some tortured past. But Dabi’s eyes were bright and lucid now, blinking down at Tomura as he dragged their tongues together, flooding his mouth with the faint taste of cigarettes and jizz.

Their cocks brushed together too, the stimulation making Tomura whine into Dabi’s lips, who dropped a merciful hand down, taking them both in his fist and began pumping.

He didn’t stop as he pulled back, grinning down at Tomura like a fucking maniac—all shitty tattoos and silver piercings. The little barbels that stuck through Dabi’s nipples brushed against his own and made him moan at the cool metal and hot skin on his sensitive chest. Tomura was fucking sensitive everywhere, as Dabi had helped him discover, probably from a lifetime of being touched more by cheap sweatshirts than human hands.

“Now,” Dabi grunted as he thrust loosely against Tomura’s cock and his own fist before pulling away to settle back between his legs. “Shut up and cum down my throat—gotta give your virgin ass a refresher on mind shattering orgasms, so you know if that bitch is any good or not.”

Tomura’s tongue was halfway around a witty comeback when Dabi swallowed him to the hilt once again and started working his ass even harder. He really fucked hoped the neighbors were not home to hear him get his shit rocked at 2pm on a fucking Tuesday, cause Dabi might have been flunking out of his classes but he’d get a goddamn a plus for sucking dick.

The hand on his thigh, spreading him open, migrated to his hip so that Tomura could snap his legs shut hard around Dabi’s ring littered ears as he guided Tomura to grind down on his hand. The pressure in his gut built up exponentially higher now that Dabi wasn’t trying to hold him on the edge of climax. It took an embarrassingly short amount of time for him to acquiesce to Dabi’s request, as he tightened up in a full body clench before gripping Dabi’s hair and spilling rope after rope of hot, sticky release straight onto his roommate’s tongue.

Dabi, the fucking slut, made a show of swallowing every drop that spilled from Tomura’s abused cock, milking his prostate the whole time and only letting Tomura slip from his mouth when he was soft and finally spent.

The fingers in his ass remained though, still for the most part and slowly dipping in and out every so often. Tomura whimpered and clenched but was somewhat thankful for the remaining feeling of fullness.

“So, did you really mean all that?” Dabi asked with his signature smirk. “You really want your group project partner to cockwarm you and fuck your tight little ass?”

“Fuck off,” Tomura scowled and smacked Dabi hard across the face with an errant pillow.

Dabi yanked it from his grasp and tossed his ammunition onto the floor. “Hey, it’s not actually too bad in here,” he wiggled his fingers for emphasis which elicited an embarrassingly high gasp from Tomura, “give ‘em my number if you need a reference for asshole tightness.”

“Get the fuck out of my ass and my room,” Tomura kicked at Dabi’s back as it shook with laughter that lacked it’s usual sneering bite.

“What? Saving the cuddles for your new S/O?” he shot back and nuzzled his cum and spit covered face into Tomura’s neck.

With their chests pressed together, Tomura could feel the cooling, sticky remnants of Dabi’s own release coating his stomach. He squirmed against the feeling and pushed at the offending chest until his friend flopped down onto the scant space left between the mattress and the wall.

“Ew,” Tomura ran a finger through the mess Dabi had left smeared on him. “I’m taking a fucking shower.”

“God, finally!” Dabi exclaimed, throwing his hands in the air and producing a cigarette from god knows where. He let the paper rest between his lips unlit. “I should have thought about getting you fucked out on the reg earlier, creep, if it’ll stop you smelling like ass.”

Tomura launched the discarded pillow which hit it’s mark with a dull thump.

“You better be fucking gone when I get back,” he hissed and stumbled naked, on shaking legs into the hall and to their shared bathroom.

Dabi’s cackling followed him until the door shut and the lock clicked behind him. Tomura turned the water on quickly, letting steam cloud the mirror before he jumped under the spray. The only products on the shelves were Dabi’s for the most part with the exception of a store brand bar of soap and some 3 in one shampoo, conditioner, and body wash.

Tomura new he should clean himself more often, but his skin was so fucking raw all the time it hurt to do, so he mostly avoided it unless the smell got really unbearable—or Dabi was painting him in jizz whenever the opportunity presented itself.

He tried to get in and out as quickly as possible so he didn’t have the opportunity to think too hard about the admission his fuck buddy roommate had pulled from him mid blow job. Because if he did, in his post nut, clingy state, he’d most certainly imagine you were with him, tits pressed against his back and your soft, insistent tongue dipping past his lips, tasting like fruit gum and expensive cafe drinks instead of nicotine and cum.

And he really couldn’t handle that, cause Dabi was right, he had something fucking bad for you and the thought of another rejection loomed large.

When he did towel himself off and shuffle, still naked back into his bedroom Dabi was nowhere to be seen. Tomura’s phone however, was left sitting right next to the jizz stain on his sheets. He frowned at the open balcony door where Dabi was no doubt smoking and snatched the device before tumbling onto the pillows.

He powered it on and scrolled through his notifs before one caught his eyes. You and Dabi were really the only people that ever texted him, but the contact name above this one had changed.

bitch (endearing)

— hey, starting an impromptu round of Smash soon if you’re interested <3

The stupid text heart made his chest throb and he stared at Dabi’s new nickname for you, not even noticing the fucking grin that tugged at his cheeks.

He bit his lip to stop the twitching when it pulled too hard at the chapped skin and scrambled for his clothes before shooting a quick confirmation text back. Tomura opted for his only pair of black jeans this time instead of sweats and the least stained sweatshirt he owned.

Dabi peaked around the corner when he heard the clink of Tomura’s keys. The bastard was smoking in just a pair of underwear that left half his ass on display for all the whole fucking street. He smirked, quirking his eyebrows and bringing his hands up to slip his index finger through the circle of his middle and thumb on the other hand in a silent, vulgar gesture.

“Screw off,” Tomura shouted over his shoulder and made for the door.

“Wrap it before you tap it, bro!” Dabi called after him, cut off by the slamming door.

Tomura took the stairs two at a time, pulling out his phone and tucking the hood over his damp hair, this time to hide the growing smile playing at his lips.

---

Your project was almost complete.

In some ways, it sort of felt like the end of an era. To Tomura, who was, by nature, a creature of habit, it was doubly strange to imagine no longer spending hours a few days each week locked away in your little study room with you bugging him to teach you simple html and him not-so-discreetly sniffing your hair.

He still hadn’t asked you out or whatever he’d been trying to do, much to Dabi’s chagrin. And because of this, Tomura was consistently plagued with the feeling of time running out.

You were supposed to meet today for probably the last time seeing as the presentation was coming up at the end of the week. He knew it was now or never at this point. If he didn’t fucking say something now, he never would and then he’d have to live with the same his roommate wouldn’t let him live down.

So instead of heading directly to the library after class, Tomura took the old route back to his apartment and shot you a quick text—praying to the fucking boner gods, as Dabi called them, that you’d take the bait.

hey would you mind putting the finish touches on shit at my place?—

there’s some parts i gotta do from my desktop—

It wasn’t completely a lie. It was nicer working from his pc setup, but before he wouldn’t have let you come anywhere fucking near there. Not until he’d finally accepted that you’d wormed your way into his brain somehow and he couldn’t live another day not knowing what your tongue tasted like.

bitch (endearing)

—no problem

—what’s your address?

Tomura’s heart fucking pounded mercilessly against the bony prison of his ribs. It wasn’t like he was a stranger to some good old fashioned anxiety, but he’d never felt a strange stirring in his stomach quite like this. Like he might puke, but in a good way.

He quickly sent back his street and apartment number, and waited on the corner for you to text back that you’d be there in an hour before he rushed inside.

“What the hell are you doing, creep?!” Dabi snapped at him when he burst through the door and yeeted his backpack onto the kitchen table.

Tomura didn’t answer, just made a beeline for the bathroom and slammed the door. He doused himself in record time, unbothered by the hot water causing red, patchy flare ups to bloom over his skin. He was almost disgusted with himself for putting in this much effort for someone like you. Someone being definitely kind of a slut if the way you dressed was a good indicator. But he just kept thinking about the way your hair or skin smelled so goddamn good when you leaned in close and he wanted you to be obsessed with him in the same way. Wanted you to want to bury your face in his neck and breath him in.

When he stumbled out into the hall moments later, towel drying his hair roughly, Dabi was taking a shot over the sink.

He looked at Tomura like hell had frozen over.

“Two showers in like a month?” he mused, sucking his teeth as the alcohol slid down his throat. “What’s the occasion? The fucking, second coming of Christ?”

“Well the bitch is coming over so…”

“Oh, that is a fucking miracle,” Dabi whistled and knocked back a second shot.

Tomura glared, stepping into his room and tossing his towel aside to tug on his nicest pair of black joggers and t-shirt that gapped a bit at the front, showing off a large expanse of his chest. It made him a bit nervous even just looking at his reflection but you definitely stared the few times he’d taken off his hoodie while you were working, so the risk seemed worth the reward.

“Yeah, well you’re gonna have to piss off for the night,” Tomura shouted into the kitchen as Dabi sauntered over to lean against his doorframe.

“You know, I conveniently do have a dick appointment with my own bitch, but now I don’t want to go.”

His tone was teasing, eyes hooded and clearly enjoying how flustered Tomura was already before you’d even gotten here. Tomura moved to snatch another pillow and do battle but Dabi raised his hands up quickly in defeat.

“Oh no, no, I just fucking did my hair for this Keigo asshole you are not gonna ruin it with that petty shit,” he shot back and disappeared somewhere into his own room. “I’ll be out of your greasy ass hair don’t worry.”

Tomura seethed and bit back of reply of his hair for once not being greasy as hell, but the multiple cum stains—both his and his nasty fucking roommates—marring the comforter caught his eye.

“Ugh,” he mumbled and balled the whole thing up, shoving it under the bed and spreading out one of his merch blankets from that manga you both liked.

Hopefully you wouldn’t think that was too cringey, but he had definitely seen your room plastered with merch in the background of your social media profiles which he totally did not stalk at all and maybe jerk off to on occasion.

The rest of his room was quickly cleared by a combination of shoving random crap into his closet and filling up their recycling bin to the brim with empty energy drink cans. He tackled the kitchen next which wasn’t as hard as he’d expected. Neither he nor Dabi cooked all that frequently, so the dishes weren’t an issue and the vague, lingering smell of whatever the fuck Dabi had been smoking early was cleared out a bit by leaving the balcony door ajar.

He checked the time on his phone obsessively, about ready to pound on Dabi’s door and throw him out on the step when the man in question emerged on his own—black platform boots donned with his ass hugging ripped jeans and loose tank top. He had on fucking eyeliner.

God and he thought Tomura was being desperate.

“What? Wishing you’d locked this down first?” Dabi sneered, grabbing his jacket from the rack and shoulder checking Tomura on his way to the door.

“I—” he stammered for a second, bristling as Dabi towered over him a bit in those fucking boots. “No, asshole, just leave before they get here.”

But at the exact moment that Dabi rolled his eyes and flung open the door, Tomura’s phone buzzed in his pocket. Looking up in mingled horror and embarrassment, he watched the door hit the wall and reveal you, a little more casually dressed than usual looking stunned as Dabi grinned down at you with pierced lips.

“Hi, I’m-” you started but Tomura’s live-in nightmare cut you off.

“Oh I know who you are, dollface,” Dabi wiggled his fucking eyebrows at you, clearly playing up the dramatics as much as possible to a degree even Tomura didn’t think he could pull off. “Name’s Dabi—”

“Uh, yeah and he was just leaving,” Tomura hissed and placed his shoulder firmly in the center of his roommate’s back, launching him onto the welcome mat as you side-stepped through the door.

“Yeah, see ya later creep,” he fucking winked as the door slammed shut in his face.

Tomura’s cheeks burned in the following silence which was only broken by your quiet chuckle. He noticed you did that a lot. Laughed at things without even thinking about whether it would sound weird.

“He seems like a lot,” you mumbled and glanced around at the living room/kitchen/foyer of his tiny apartment.

“Yeah…”

He thought he might feel the same sort of disturbance he usually did when Dabi brought his dates home but you seemed to fit easily into the space, unobtrusive but bright against the dingy walls.

“So, should we get to it?” you asked with a wry smile, spinning to face him and silhouetted by the sun set filtering in past the balcony.

He may not have felt the usual discomfort of intruders in his space, but his hands shook where he clutched at his thighs nonetheless. And just like always, if you noticed the bunched up fabric and the not so slight tremor in his bony arms, you didn’t say a thing about it.

You looked so good propped up on his bed, back against the wall and legs dangling off the sides as the now strangely comforting sound of your furious typing filled his room. It had been a few hours now, and Dabi had been true to his work, seemingly gone until tomorrow morning. The room was lit only by your screens and his small desk lamp that lit up your legs like a stage spot light.

His mind fogged over more than once with the fantasy of laying in between them.

“I just shared the final bit of script,” you said, breaking the comfortable silence.

The notification pinged at the top of his screen and he hummed in acknowledgement, plugging in your last pieces of text and saving the program.

And just like that.

It was over.

“I think we’re done,” Tomura whispered.

He didn’t really mean to say it so softly but it felt strange to talk at full volume so he just rasped out the words, knowing you wouldn’t care how shitty his voice sounded.

There was a creak and soft footsteps behind him as you shuffled off the bed and over to his desk, hands resting way too close to his shoulders than necessary while you leaned over his chair to look at the finished product.

It was still a little rough around the edges but Tomura found himself feeling a little swell of satisfaction now that it was complete. All things considered, you’d come up with a pretty damn good concept and he liked knowing he played a role in helping it come to fruition.

The piece you picked was weird as shit. Some political satire about eating babies, lots of juxtaposition about the private life versus the public self and some bullshit rants on the nature of humanity blah blah blah.

It actually reminded him of you a little bit, now that he thought about it and used your position as an excuse to stare intently at your eyes scanning the screen. Not the eating babies thing, but the whole private self stuff. In the half semester he’d spent locked away with you in quiet rooms and noisy, dimly lit basements, he could see such a stark contrast between the you he’d known from class all those weeks ago and the you currently sighing in relief over his shoulder.

Softer, more real—not so Stacy, bimbo, pick me slut like he’d always imagined you to be.

“Damn, we did it my guy,” you nodded, clearly impressed with yourself and him as well, which had Tomura’s chest puffing out just a bit under the attention. “I could fucking kiss you, I thought we’d never get it done.”

You turned to him, eyes closed in a half laugh but Tomura was so far from laughing. Cause you were really, really fucking close and he could smell you again and you’d been chewing that fucking gum cause it was hot on your breath and he knew, he really did, that you were kidding, that tis was just a thing people say when they’re relieved but he couldn’t help the weird, deer in the headlights stare that his face froze in.

Blinking, you raised your eyebrows at him questioningly when he didn’t make some crude comment about your chest brushing against his arm or shrug you off like he might have before.

And then you got this knowing, little mischievous look that reminds him far too much of Dabi for a split second before you pressed your face just an inch closer.

His eyes flicked down instinctively to your lips and his face burned when realized there was no way you didn’t see the way he looked at you. Shockingly, despite the churning in his gut and the shaking in his legs, Tomura leaned forward just a bit too, working up just enough scant courage to maybe close the gap, but then you started laughing?

It bubbled up quietly in your chest, more of a giggle than anything else.

You were laughing and shaking your head and his stomach fucking dropped to the ground and his face was on fire cause you were laughing and that meant he’d been fucking played like a goddamn fiddle but—

But then you gave him this faint smile and you weren't laughing anymore, because you were kissing him.

You were fucking kissing him.

Which, while yes he had set out to have this be the end goal of the night, he hadn’t actually believed it would ever happen. He’d never felt it in his bones, like he was supposed to.

And holy shit your lips were so soft??

So soft and smooth with no cool, sharp metal poking or pulling at the splits on his. It was like fucking crack, or what he imagined crack might be like with the way your mouth just glided against his. It was so easy to follow you, which was good cause he didn’t have a goddamn clue what he was doing for the most part. But you made it feel simple, and you even ran your tongue over the little scar that bisected his lips in this painfully adorable way that had Tomura pitching a tent in his pants like lightning.

God but when you pulled back and just enough to look him in the eye—

It was like every one of those cutesy, shojo manga suddenly made sense. The panels where the main character’s look at each other and flowers bloom off the fucking page while they stare with those dark, hungry eyes—

Yeah.

Yeah he got it now.

And he was gonna ride that wave while he had it. So Tomura steeled himself and surged forward, grabbing both your arms and smashing his face much less gracefully against yours. He stood and you straightened with him, that same half giggle slipping out in the gaps where your lips parted on his as he clacked your teeth together and pulled back at the jarring sting.

“Eager are we?” you have that stupid smile on your face again but he honestly didn’t care anymore if it was an act or if your face really just looked like that with no fucking ulterior motive.

“Shut up,” he muttered, trying to catch your lips again and you mercifully let him.

And Tomura nearly fucking came in his pants when your licked into his mouth and oh fucking god he really could taste the gum and that loud ass shit you were always drinking. Dabi was right, this was a fucking miracle. Did other people always taste this good or was it just you?

He responded enthusiastically to say the least, sucking your tongue into his mouth and letting out a choked little noise when you licked at the back of his teeth. The movement of your legs, pulling him back towards the bed went mostly unnoticed until he felt himself tipping forward, landing with a thump on top of you as you both tumbled onto his mattress.

Tomura’s lips wondered boldly down your throat, smelling the soap or lotion or whatever the hell made you so fucking baby smooth compared to him and he actually growled into your nape when you laughed again.

“God, what the fuck is so funny?” he sounded muffled from where he was tonguing at the fleshy joining of your neck and shoulder.

“Sorry, sorry,” you pressed your lips against the peeling crown of his head and that alone made up for the interruption, “I’m just basking in the glory of being right.”

“About?” Tomura nipped at your skin once before lifting his chin to rest on your sternum.

“I just always thought you were sorta into me, but it was hard to tell cause you’re so quiet about that sorta thing.”

“....oh,” he didn’t really have an argument for that so he didn’t try to fight you.

“Did you think I didn’t notice all the convenient excuses to touch me or like the fact that you’re mean as shit to everyone else but me?“ you asked not unkindly as you stroked a hand through his hair, frizzy from being left to air dry. “I also got the vibes you thought I was kinda a slut anyway and it wasn’t super clear if that was a turn on or not.”

He cringed a bit at the blatant way you acknowledged all ruder inner monologues about your character.

“Well, I did a bit initially,” Tomura glanced off to the side, suddenly finding the chipping paint much more fascinating. God he really wanted to get back to the good stuff. “But I don’t now…”

“Oh no,” you cupped his face, running a thumb against the cracked skin on his cheeks and didn’t cringe when the drying skin flaked onto your shirt, “that was a pretty astute assumption.”

“Uh, what?”

He felt his draw drop and you dipped your thumb past his front row of teeth, towing with the pooling saliva.

“All the better for you though,” you continued dragging his chest against yours so he could feel your nipples through his shirt, “cause that just means I know how to show you a good time, and I get the feeling you’ve never had that happen before.”

You punctuated your words with roll of your hips against the fucking iron rod in his pants. The noise that left Tomura was inhuman. He thought back to the day you got partnered with him. How he thought it would be a fucking nightmare and Tomura wanted to let the record show that he officially retracted that statement. This was in no uncertain terms, actually a wet dream come true and he was sure Dabi would never fucking believe him unless he walked through the door right now.

“That works,” he stuttered around the finger in his mouth and you reared up to wrap your legs around his waist.

Your lips found his again and he hummed in approval only cut off as you rolled so he was laying back and looking up. When you pulled away, he shivered at the way you raked your nails over his chest.

“So, you gonna tell me how much of a disgusting whore you think I am?”

---

“I don’t—”

He couldn't finish the sentence, not when you were grinding down on him like that. How the hell did you even know how to move your hips in those little circles? Was there some Being a Massive Slut for Dummies book he was missing out on or?

“C’mon, Tomura, we’ve been through this,” you sighed and leaned down to such a trail of sloppy kisses from his jaw to his ear, biting down on the soft flesh, “I know you’ve been thinking so much nasty shit about me, the least you can do is let me hear it.”

Those hands on his chest were moving again, curling into the hem of his t-shirt and tugging until it was over his head and tossed aside on the floor. On an embarrassing instinct, Tomura’s hands shot up to cover himself, only stopped when you leaned onto your haunches and tugged off your own.

“Shit,” Tomura whispered.

You weren’t wearing anything underneath.

He drank in the sight of those cute fucking tits he’d only ever caught glimpses of through those low cut tops you always wore. You grinned down at him, both hands coming up to play with your chest, fingers pinching and rolling the pretty buds. Tomura felt drool slip from the corner of his mouth.

“Is that all you got?”

He wasn’t completely in control of his body as it catapulted off the bed to smash his face between your squished up tits, but neither of you were complaining if the sounds that followed were any indication. You hummed happily as he pressed his cheeks to the warm, soft flesh and his lips closed around your nipple, sucking and laving his tongue over the pebbled skin.

“You really wanted everyone to see these, huh?” he meant the words to have more bite but it was hard with your fucking boob in his mouth.

And he wasn’t looking to stop suckling at you anytime soon so….

“They’re nice tits, what can I say,” you shot back and he couldn’t wait to have you fucked so stupid all those witty one-liners would die on your tongue.

You fucking tasted so good. He hadn’t ever thought that tits would have a fucking taste but it was like some odd combination of skin and spit and it was addictive.

“Got a whole fucking eye full that first time you talked to me in class,” he growled, sinking his teeth in hard enough to leave a mark around your nipple. “Fucking parading them around every time you leaned over. Thought you were so fucking desperate for attention.”

If you really wanted to know all the vile, gross shit he thought on the daily then who was he to deny you that pleasure.

Cause you were definitely feeling some type of way about it based on the way your fingers threaded through his hair and held him to your chest as he tongued and bit at the skin.

“Think I’m just a stupid attention whore, is that it?” you moaned when he switched breasts, palm kneading at the one he’d abandoned.

“I think you’re a useless slut who’ll do anything to get a guy to fucking look your way,” Tomura gasped and sunk his teeth in again.

A shiver ran through him at the whine leaving your lips.

He did that.

He needed to do more of that immediately.

“You like it when I call you a fucking slut?”

Tomura didn’t know what came over him in that moment—what weird spirit of horny confidence possessed his body—but suddenly, with a surge of motion, his hand left your chest and latched onto the smooth column of your throat. The move had actually been quite graceful until he tried to flip your positions and got his legs tangled with yours, resulting in more of a...sexy pile than the smooth transition of power he was going for.

You didn’t seem to mind though.

You never did.

Tomura guessed if he was going to admit something nice about you, then it would be that at least you were consistent.

“I do like it when you call me that,” you breathed into his ear, hands under his arms to haul him back over top of you and replace the hand at your throat with a smirk, “and you love that it’s true.”

Fuck.

He really did, now that he thought about it. All those message boards always talked about finding virgins who you could mold to your dick just like they were meant to be, but…he was so fucking anxious at the best of times, having those eyes that pissed him off and knew it made this so much more fun.

There was probably a more eloquent word than that, and you would probably more than willing to supply it, but the goal was to shut you up and he wasn’t gonna be okay with just coasting this time.

“God, you need to learn how to shut the fuck up,” he spat and subsequently yelped as you leaned forward, licking a wet trail up his chest before latching onto one of his nipples.

The flushed, pink skin disappeared into the heat of your mouth, leaving his dick twitching violently in his pants that had grown too tight and damp for comfort. The languid motion of your tongue over the rapidly pebbling flesh and the goldilocks perfect way in which you nipped at him was enough to corroborate all your claims of experience. With the constant, electric spark pleasure running from his chest to his pants, Tomura found formulating sentences a little challenging, so he just said the first thing that came to mind.

“Why don’t we give you something even better to with that fucking whore mouth, hm?”

It was cliche as hell, stolen straight from one of the admittedly plentiful pornos he’d watched in his day, but you just grinned and popped off his nipple, nodded frantically at the innuendo.

Those clever little fingers that seemed to type without ever stopping dropped to the waistband of his sweats and tugged them down his thighs. He kicked a bit awkwardly to get them off his ankles but you were already yanking the elastic of his boxers. You smiled up at him through your lashes as you tucked the fabric just under his balls and let your eyes wander slowly from his splotchy red chest to the patch of hair just at the base of his dick.

If he hadn’t known better, he might have thought you were drooling.

Tomura felt a bit more in his element here, having had some actual frame of reference—as his asshole roommate was so generous to provide—so he didn’t waste any time. Falling onto his back, he squirmed up the sheets until his head was resting on a pillow and you were crawling between his thighs. God and you and you had your ass up too, wiggling it back and forth like you were wagging your tail at just the thought of getting his cock in your mouth.

Well, since you were so eager, Tomura decided to jump right in. You seemed to like things a bit rough anyway, so he reached out, burying a hand roughly in your hair and plunging in.

The cute and kinda disgusting choking gasp you let out was addictive.

And now he fucking knew Dabi was lying about his dick being small, cause you had a big fucking mouth to talk all that shit and it was absolutely stuffed full. Your lips were stretched obscenely not even halfway down his shaft and your eyes were already pricked with tears at the edges. The fucking feel of your mouth was like how he imagine silk might feel, if it was soaked and scorching. Your throat constricted around him as you gagged and oh it was fucking cock sucking heaven he was in.

Tomura was almost tempted to grab his phone and snap a—

Actually, that was a fucking great idea.

His free hand fumbled for his pants, closing around his phone and unlocking it while you hummed and pulled back, bobbing your head twice before sinking back down, Your eyes flew open when the camera flash lit up the dark corner of his room. He could feel you trying to move away, to snap at him for taking his little keepsake but he quickly fisted your hair and bucked his hips up to keep you firmly on his dick.

“Oh no, you were so eager to suck me off, you’re gonna finish the fucking job before you breathe again,” he panted, holding the sides of your face and fucking your mouth in earnest.

He’d found it easy to simply follow the instinctive rhythm of his hips, constantly seeking out the wet heat source. Your eyes rolled back in your goddamn as his length slid past your lips over and over again

Holy shit it felt so good.

And it felt even better when he could see how much you loved it.

How much you loved his filthy fucking almost virgin cock shoved down your throat and he finally felt the vulgar dam in his mind break.

“I think about you all the time,” he gasped, keening high when you ran your tongue over his slit on ever upstroke, just how he liked it. “I lay here at night and fuck my hand and think about sinking into your tight fucking cunt. I wanna fill you up so bad, it’s the only thing on my mind whenever I talk to you.”

The only thing stopping him from cumming straight down your throat in that moment was sheer horny force of will.

“When you mouth off in class, all I hear is you just begging for someone to bend you over and fuck that cocky fucking arrogance right out of you,” below him, you reached a hand up, pinching hard at his nipple and humming at the squeal he made. “Fuck, and I want eat your pussy while you’re up there presenting this shit, so I can watch you try and keep it together so know one else knows what a fucking whore you are for me. Such a fucking slut for me.”

Something was washing over him, some weird, intense revelation of something that perhaps he’d always known but just needed the motivation of a fucking earth shattering blowjob to work out of him—that he wanted you. Really wanted you. Felt entitled to you. He’d spent so much mental energy obsessing over it, that really, no one else fucking deserved to touch you but him.

No one else would want you this much.

No one else would want him this much.

Your hands had found their way to his thighs and they were rubbing sweet little circles into the soft skin.

“You’d love that wouldn’t you?” his voice was wrecked, even more than usual, from the near constant string of high pitched whining “You’d love to have me fucking ruin you, make you cum all over my tongue in front of everyone. Let them fucking know who does that shit to you.”

You managed a nod, even with his cock buried deepdeepdeep in your throat. And Tomura was fucking twitching at the thought. The muscles in his legs jumped under your touch. A slimy mix of spit and precum was gushing down his length, slipping over his balls and slicking his ass. It was sloppy and the room was so full of the wet slap of his hips against your mouth.

It was so much, too much, oh shit, shit he didn’t want to cum like this—

“Wait, wait!” he cried, back arching with the agony of leaving the plush paradise between your lips. “Please—I wanna cum in you.”

You looked up at him, head hanging from his grip in your hair, with your jaw slack and dripping and nodded. He felt as though his ribs were lined with magnets that pulled him into your outstretched arms, kneeling as he pressed his mouth frantically to yours, uncaring of the mess of the faint taste of bitter precum.

There was something frantic in the air, like a switch had been flipped. The need to feel you, to be connected at every point— to get just a little bit more of what he’d earned—grew stronger with every passing second.

His lips were rough and raw and stung when you licked them but that only made it sweeter. You tongued at his teeth and sucked him into your mouth like he was warm food after months without. It was needy. Needy and ragged because you needed him.

You needed him.

What a fucking thought that was.

Your pants were quickly discarded along with his boxers, and for the first time in his life, Tomura didn’t care about all the exposed skin. He didn’t think about all the unsightly patches of irritation or scaring, because you never had. Not once had you ever stared or commented and you weren’t starting now. Your hands smoothed over every inch of him, just as desperate like he always knew you would be.

Because you were so—

Perfect.

Fucking disgusting.

Tomura let you fall back onto the mattress and whimpered at the feeling of your thighs hitched around his waist. He made the mistake of letting his eyes leave your mouth to glance down and oh, oh he was enraptured.

Dabi was right, he’d never actually seen a pussy in real life and holy shit.

His fingers gravitated immediately to your lips, fucking soaked, soaked in arousal that had smeared on your thighs.

“You get this fucking hot just from my cock in your mouth?” he asked, grinning as he collected some of the slick on his fingers and brought them curiously to his mouth.

Delicious.

“Yes—fuck—yes!” you whined and pulled him closer with your thighs.

“You want me to fuck you that bad?” his fingers ghosted over where he thought your clit might be and was rewarded when you moaned low as he brushed over a raised little bud. “Does this nasty little slut want me that fucking bad?”

“Please Tomura…” his name on your tongue was better than any crazy ass party drug Dabi ever brought home, “you have no fucking idea how long I’ve been wanting you so fucking deep in me—”

Your words cut off with a sob as he ran his fingers down, searching for your entrance and sinking in hard when he found it. And it was so nice in there. So fucking hot.

“What are you?” he asked, thrusting his fingers in and out, trying to remember how Dabi did it to him and what felt good.

He plunged them deep and curled up towards your belly and you sobbed, “A fucking slut!”

God he was so glad no one else was here to hear that.

This was just for him.

“And who’s fucking slut are you?”

He really could help himself, he just wanted to hear it so fucking bad.

“Yours,” you whined and rolled your hips down so his thumb caught on your clit and. “I’m your fucking slut!”

“Shit,” he rasped and ripped his fingers from you.

He wasn’t entirely conscious of his movements. There was just one, very loud voice, screaming in his head to bury his cock in that perfect fucking heat and suddenly his was gripping himself and pushing in and—

“Ahh, fucking god,” Tomura whimpered, body going limp as his tip was sheathed fully inside you.

His forehead dropped down to rest against yours, arms like half cooked pasta on either side of your head, failing to hold him up. You brought your arms up, sliding fingers through his hair and down his back as your ankles locked right above his ass to urge him forward.

Tomura’s cock sunk in inch by inch until he bottomed out with a groan. His mouth moved even when the rest of him couldn’t

“So tight…” he mumbled, head slipping into the crook of your neck and sucking lightly at the skin, feeling the comfort of it in his mouth. “Didn’t think it’d be this tight.”

“Are you trying to insult me or were you just a virgin?” you huffed out, but there was a laugh bubbling just behind the words.

He weakly held up to fingers to indicate the second, dropping them immediately to clutch at the sheets when you clamped down on his cock, nestled sweetly against your cervix.

“Wait really?” you asked, hands skimming up his back to grip his cheeks.

Tomura tried to hide himself in your shoulder, because the fucking dopey ass smile on his face would surely feed your ego and he didn’t need you knowing that your pussy had him fucking higher than a goddamn kite.

If only his bones hadn’t suddenly taken on all the physical properties of jello.

“I’ve fucked around before,” he said, which was technically true, “just never...like this.”

He didn’t even need to move—which, well, wasn’t entirely true he was burning with the urge to drive himself frantically into your dripping cunt—but he was so blissed out from just the soft, warm, tight hug of your walls around his cock that pulsed precum with ever clench, was enough.

What he wouldn’t give to have this all the time. Have you constantly sitting on his cock, keeping him warm and hard and cumming inside you.

At the reminder of why exactly he’d set out to do this, his body regained a bit of it’s former solidity.

“Oh,” you began, voice strained and hips shaking with the effort of not rocking back on his dick. “Well, you feel fucking amazing—”

Tomura cut you off with an experimental thrust. He pulled all the way back, watching as his tip just nearly popped out of your cute fucking hole and then snapped in again. You were a fucking mess above him, gripping at the pillows and then at his arms, dragging red scratches down the pale, fragile skin there.

It only spurred him on.

“You like that? Like my huge fucking cock in you?” he growled, flopping down so he could feel your nipples brush against his while he railed into you.

As much as you apparently enjoyed hearing all the filth that spewed from him, he really liked having a receptacle for it all. It had been hidden inside him for so long, the release was only made sweeter with the addition of your slutty fucking pussy clenching at every word.

“So fucking big, Tomura—”

You rocked up to slip your tongue into his mouth again, sucking softly at his rough lower lip and drinking down all the less than dominant cries that poured from him as his release grew again. He wasn’t really sure how to get you off, but you seemed to understand the intentions behind his hand wandering to nudge at the space he was driving his cock into.

Those soft fingers held his and guided them up to that nub he’d found before and moved his hand in little, rhythmic circles that had you fucking sobbing into his mouth.

Real tears streaked down your face as you moaned into him, “Oh fuck, yes Tomura, baby, just like that…!”

And for once, he had absolutely no qualms with doing exactly what you said. He wanted—needed—to know what it would feel like for you to cream all over his dick. Wanted to see the stupid fucking face you would make as he ripped you apart on his definitely massive length.

You were rocked back into ever thrust, drinking in the sound of slapping skin, mouth permanently attached to his—tongues locked together.

The taste of fruit gum mixed with salty cum and the smell of sweat and sex and cleanlaundryshampoo was fucking everywhere. It was intoxicating and heady and all he had ever needed.

Really, you weren’t so bad when you were crying on his cock.

And you were fucking crying, screaming for him—his name, calling him ‘baby’ in a way that had his heart stuttering uncomfortably in his throat and babbling about how good, how fucking perfect he felt inside.

“C’mon,” he grunted, “c’mon, I wanna see my fucking slut cum for me, all over my cock.”

And for once, you actually followed an order.

His fingers on your clit never gave up and he could fucking feel the orgasm wash over you. Your cunt spasmed and clamped hard like a vice, tighter than anything he ever could have imagined. And you choked out his name, so desperate:

“Tomura, fuck yes baby!”

God your face was so good, all scrunched up and then relaxing into a blissful, panting, open-mouth grin.

It was sort of beautiful.

But he wasn’t gonna fucking say that.

“Good fucking slut,” he said instead, and arched his chest into yours so he could feel the swell of your pretty tits against his chest.

And he almost fucking lost it right there but he needed more, needed to feel full too. The clenching of your pussy was so unmatched by any sensation but he guessed Dabi always called him a greedy whore for a reason.

His hand grabbed at yours—hips only letting up when he couldn’t actively get his dick out of you as you came—and brought it roughly to his lips. Tomura was still slick, covered in spit and sweat but he sucked two of your fingers into his mouth anyway. His tongue delved between them as you watched with wide eyes as he spat onto them and whined.

“I need—oh shit—inside, inside...fuck…”

He could fucking get his tongue to make words but he dragged your hand to his ass and prayed you’d get the hint. Prayed you’d fill him up too.

And you certainly delivered.

His hips started up their unforgiving rhythm again now that you’d rode out your release, slipping even more easily into your pussy with all the slick spilling out of you. God that would be his cum soon—his cum dripping out onto your thighs. Your feet dropped to the bed and Tomura grabbed your waist for leverage.

Your clever little finger circled his hole, wrist bent from the awkward angle below him but working nonetheless. His spit and precum made less than ideal lube but he welcomed the burn of you entering him. A second one joined behind the first and it was rough going for a moment until he was able to rock back fully, finding a certain bend of the knee and half thrust that had him simultaneously grinding into you and fucking himself on your fingers.

And then you managed to get deep enough to brush against that fucking spot, that magic fucking spot that had him seeing stars and screaming your name—not slut, not bitch, not some other fucking cruelty—your name and spilling rope after rope of hot cum against your walls.

Your eyes did that thing where they rolled halfway up and crossed like this was some fucking hentai and you weren’t knuckles deep in his ass while he came inside you.

Tomura went completely limp then, boneless like a cheap chicken wing and collapsed onto your chest, whimpering when your fingers left him empty but comforted by the rhythmic clenching of your cunt, warming his cock and keeping his cum safe inside.

“So good,” you whispered into his hair, soft palms smoothing over his back in slow circles. “Felt so good, Tomura. You were so good.”

He shivered in your arms, lulled by the feeling of your breasts under him and breathing in the mixture of soap and sex that radiated from your skin. Everything about it was strange, but in that wonderful kind of way that new games sometimes were. A tingling at the prospect of a new adventure, a new world, and a new journey to embark on.

You pressed your lips to his sweat slicked forehead and didn’t turn away in disgust.

No, instead you just held him on his cum soaked sheets and slept.

---

Tomura woke about an hour later, dick finally soft and tangled in a knot of limbs with you on his bed. You’d stretched and let him kiss you without asking, accepting his tongue on yours just as easily as you had before.

After detangling yourself from him, you left to take a shower and Tomura found that he couldn’t bare the notion of being apart from you for more than twenty minutes now even more than he couldn’t fucking stand showering, so he’d joined you anyway.

You didn’t talk much and neither did he, but it was that same comfortable silence you’d formed in your little study room hideout. He let you drag him under the spray just long enough to wash most of the jizz and spit from his thighs before he stepped back to lean on the tile and watch as you rinsed yourself.

Only once did you mention the rough, scaly skin on his neck and face. Your hand was gentle, roving over the cracks and asking him if he’d tried any soap for sensitive skin. That yours was like that too and you’d let him borrow some to try out. He blushed at the implication of seeing you again after this.

It was well past midnight when you toweled off and dried him as well. He lent you one of his few clean t-shirts and you wore it without any underwear. Tomura shameless stared at your bare ass when you bent over to strip the ruined comforter from his bed.

He thought about burying himself in you again, and because he hasn’t dressed yet—and you don’t push him away when he presses against you—he does. And you moan for him again when he fucks you from behind, just as rough but it all comes easier the second time around.

You told Tomura, later—when you were both exhausted again and stained with release—he was kinda a natural and something about the praise really got to him.

“You’d fucking know,” he snipped at you, curled on his side with his face in your tits.

This was his new favorite position, he’d decided and he snickered at the thought of planting his face right in your chest while you were both in class. He’d pay money to see the horrified look on your prim fucking face.

“Yes I would,” you hummed into his hairline, mouthing softly at the baby curls around his crown. “So, when are you gonna take me out?”

Tomura felt the loading circle of death spinning in his brain for a moment. Like a 404 error had occurred somewhere in amongst his neural pathways.

“I thought you said you were a slut?” he asked and almost immediately wished he could quit the game, even if it meant he had to replay all the scenes before this moment.

But you didn’t pull away.

You really never do.

He thought idly that you both must have some weirdo bug making you enjoy all the disgusting bits of the other.

“Well yeah, but that doesn’t mean you can’t take me on a date if that’s something you’d like,” you chuckled and he felt your chest rise with it and the breath on his forehead.

He nestled his face deeper into your tits, “yeahsurefinewhatever.”

The lips pressed to his head smiled but you didn’t say anything again for a long time. Not until both of you were drifting off again, falling into the trap of shared body heat and the odd human craving of skin against skin.

“Your freaky roommate isn’t going to walk in right?”

Tomura grumbled, mouthing at your nipple and suckling softly, “no, you’re mine now, he can’t have either of us.”

You signed contentedly for a moment, moaning lightly as he swiped his tongue over your sensitive skin before the words caught up to you.

“Wait, what?”

“Nothing, go to sleep.”

You didn’t push it any farther, or remove Tomura from his sucking at your tits. It was quite possibly the most peaceful night of sleep he’d ever gotten, which only ensured the fact that you would never be allowed to sleep anywhere else.

This was your responsibility now, after all, and you fucking loved responsibility so he didn’t see any problems.

Shockingly, Tomura did let you leave the next morning to grab some things from home and change clothes. He watched you walk down the sidewalk from his window and only meandered back into the kitchen when you turned a corner out of sight and the front door slammed open.

Dabi was plopped on the couch when he ventured out, shirtless and absolutely covered in hickeys. Tomura would have commented on it, but he knew he didn’t look much better and didn't want to invite the comparison.

“What the hell got into you, creep?” he asked incredulously, leering from the cushions, looking him up and down.

“I got into bitch (endearing),” he cupped his hands to form parenthesis in the air and grabbed a Monster from the fridge.

Dabi gaped, pushing himself up and not so subtly limping over to cage him against the counter, “No you fucking did not.”

“Did so,” he shot back, knocking his shoulder roughly into Dabi’s chest so he could stalk back into his room. “Looks more like someone got into you.”

You’d put him in such a weirdly pleasant mood, he really didn’t want to give that up, but Dabi was present, the bitch.

“We got into each other,” Dabi huffed, flopping down on Tomura’s bed and ruining your scent on his sheets, “No fucking way you had the balls dude.”

Impulsively—in part because he really needed to ego boost of proving Dabi wrong and to convince himself as well that last night (and this morning) had really happened—Tomura whipped out his phone, flashing that pretty picture of you choking on his dick right into that smug bastards face.

The fucking grin only grew wider.

“I’ll be fucking damned, creep,” he stood from the bed to get a closer look, but Tomura locked the screen quickly and shoved it back in his pocket. “How much did you have to pay her?”

“I don’t know what you have to do to get some,” Tomura scoffed, “but mine was free.”

Dabi looked like he had something smart to say back to that but Tomura didn’t want to hear it.

“Get out,” he called over his shoulder as he took Dabi’s place on his bed, inhaling the little wisps of you left over on the cotton. God he was never gonna wash these.

“Aw, don’t wanna give me all the details?”

He peaked up at Dabi, leaned against his doorframe.

“No, I have to get dressed,” he paused before the next words that left his mouth, hiding his face in the pillow so Dabi wouldn’t see the furious red of blood rushing to his cheeks. “I have a date later.”

---

“Stop fucking squirming,” you leaned forward to bite at Tomura’s lips as he shifted under you.

Your hands were gathering his hair and pulling it in twists to the side, tying the strands away from his face. It wasn’t exactly uncomfortable, but your legs wrapped around his waist as he sat in his desk chair, cock soaked and deliciously warm in your pussy was harder to ignore. Especially when you clamped down on him every time he moved while you worked.

“Then get off my dick,” he snapped, leaning back in the chair for better leverage as he snapped his hips up. You looked straight out of those hentai memes, eyes almost crossing when he pushed you down to meet his thrust. “Fucking greedy slut.”

“Excuse-ah,” this time it was you bouncing on his length unprompted, “me, but I wasn’t the one with my cock out begging cause it was so cold.”

Your tone was entirely too even for his liking, and Tomura frowned as he dug his hands into your hips and made you grind into his lap. He really was dating such a fucking whore.

“Well, if you hadn’t fucking insisted we go to this dumbass party, then I could have fucked you hours ago,” he knew he was pouting, but you’d started meeting every roll of his hips halfway, using your thighs now to start up a slow rhythm. “Maybe don’t take so long picking an outfit next time.”

“I was picking yours asshole,” you caught his lip between your teeth again and sucked.

Joke was on you though, the more you tried to fucking tease him, the deeper he was gonna fuck you.

How d’you like that, bitch?

“What—don’t you dare fucking stop—was wrong with my outfit?”

He could feel spit pooling under his tongue. Your fucking pussy always did this to him, made his mouth water and this thighs shake while you rode him in earnest now, moaning into his ear as he made sure you felt him in your fucking guts.

God, he was never gonna get over that—the sounds you made. The sounds he pulled from you.

“Tomura, baby,” every word was punctuated with a gasp, one of his thumbs drawing those little circles on your clit that he figured out pretty quick made you cry. “I love you—and the easy dick access sweatpants provide—dearly, but your ass looks so fucking good in these jeans.”

Something weird always happened to his chest when you said stupid, cheesy shit like that. He knew that was thing fucking normies said all the time, and he used to gag whenever he heard people in the halls professing their feelings to each other. But whenever you did it, Tomura’s lips just instinctively fought to turn up at the edges and his lungs suddenly forgot what air felt like in favor of dedicating ever braincell in his body to memorizing whatever dumb as hell, sweet thing you said.

“Why does—mm yes fuck...” he stared entranced at his lap where your slutty goddamn pussy swallowed him up and pulsed around his cock with every tight circle drawn on your clit. “Why does it matter how my ass looks?”

You paused while he fought with the neckline of your top so your tits bounced free and he could suck at your nipples. And holy shit, you could call him a baby all you wanted, but he’d never get tired of the fucking taste feel smell of your chest filling his mouth and pressed so nice against his face.

Shit, he’d fucking live in your tits if he could. Suckle at you endlessly until you poured sweet fucking milk onto his waiting tongue.

Cause you told him one time that was a thing that could happen. Swatted his head away when he pawed at you for too long cause apparently if he sucked hard enough all the time—

“Listen, if your cute little boyfriend had the tightest ass on the fucking planet, wouldn’t you want to show that off to all your friends.”

His face lit up. Tomura could feel whatever blood left not pumping through this dick, rush to his cheeks and he buried his face more resolutely in your tits so as not to give you the satisfaction of flustering him.

You fucking cooed at him every time and squished his cheeks up, calling him your baby boy.

Fucking disgusting.

But damn if he didn’t love it.

“Whatever,” he groaned, picking up his pace and drinking down the delicious little whimpers you let out every time his cock met you coming down on his lap. “Shut the fuck up, and take it like a good fucking whore.”

“My fucking pleasure,” you grunted before losing all semblance of attempted hairstyling entirely, letting out a long, low moan as he pummeled that pretty pussy and sped up on your clit.

Tomura would absolutely never admit to it, but fucking you always had him feeling so fucking needy. The second your lips or your cunt were swallowing him up it was like a dam broke and every selfish request just poured out of him.

“Wanna cum,” he mumbled into your breast, whining as your walls fluttered and pulsed.

He knew what that meant now. Tomura was what you called ‘quick on the uptake’ and honed in fast on what it felt like when you started to lose it.

“Yeah? Does my pretty boy want me to make him feel good?”

God fuck yeah.

He couldn’t quite bring himself to say it out loud but, yes. Tomura was your pretty, baby boy and he needed he sweet fucking bitch to make him bust so deep inside you.

He was about to reach his peak too, teetering on the edge when the pounding started.

And not the fun kind. Not the bend you over his bed and rail you till you couldn’t fucking walk.

No, no, no.

This was balled fist slamming against his door and Dabi’s grating, smoky voice shouting from the hall.

“Could you fornicate later freaks?!” he called through the door. “You’re gonna be fucking late.”

Tomura’s orgasm hurtled to a painful halt and you groaned again—well growled was probably a more appropriate term for the snarl you let out into the crook of his neck.

“Why the hell does it matter to you?!” Tomura shouted back, the force of his voice shifting the angle of his cock. The minute stimulation felt so good he kept up the slow grinding motion.

You groaned again—decidedly much sweeter—and sucked a cheeky fucking mark right on the side of his neck.

“What are you fucking doing?” he hissed to you, but it was Dabi’s voice who answered.

Along with the click of his knob turning.

“Well, it sounded like you were having a hard time getting your bitch off, so I was gonna offer—“

Dabi stopped, taking the split second before the controller Tomura chucked at his head connected to stare fixedly at your bare ass seated on Tomura’s thighs.

“Yes, my bitch, so get the fuck out!” he yelled, coming out a little choked at the end as your slutty self kept grinding on his cock.

“Yeah, and he’s doing a great job,” you mused, languidly raising your head from his shoulder and kissing up his jawline, completely unfazed entirely by the new audience.

Tomura’s brain was ping ponging so hard between rage, cheek burning embarrassment, and being the most turned on he’d ever been in his life.

The things you fucking did to him.

“If you say so sweetheart,” Dabi, also completely unperturbed by watching you grind on his roommates dick, leaned against the doorframe like you all were chatting about the fucking mayoral election.

“I do,” you lifted your hips then, showing off one full bounce that had both Dabi and Tomura’s eyes rolling.

Though the latter was much more annoyed than Tomura could hope to be.

“Fucking show off,” his roommate muttered.

“Isn’t your boyfriend waiting in the kitchen?” you huffed and glared over your shoulder at Dabi in his platform boots and mesh top.

He scowled and flipped the two of you off with chipped, black nails and sauntered back down the hall calling, “not my boyfriend,” as he went.

He left the door wide open.

Tomura almost yelled for him to come back and close it, but you took the silence as an opportunity to start riding him full force and even though you were the one bouncing in his lap, he had to grip your waist and hold on for the ride.

Fucking bitch.

Tomura’s fucking bitch.

You held his hand as you walked across campus to the media building in the budding Spring evening. And that was almost as bad as you saying all those pointless, nice things to him.

Cause people looked, like they watched you linking fingers with that creepy guy in their classes or from the dining hall, and you walked swinging his hand in yours the whole way like it didn’t fucking matter.

Didn’t even occur to you that everyone on campus would know now that the hot chick they saw walking around was with him.

But all those imaginary eyes seemed to melt away as you dragged him behind you, down the old path you both used to take everyday after working in the library. Along the worn concrete sidewalk to the ‘secret door’ in the alley that was perpetually propped open with a copy of the Manifesto, taking two flights of stairs down to the basement and following the soft blue glow to the unofficial layer of The League.

You didn’t let go of his hand even after your both walked through the door.

Tomura recognized most of the people there as friends you introduced him to. You’d met them all through classes or through other friends, forming a close knit group of everyone who knew everyone which was apparent from the way they all cheered when you walked in.

He suddenly was reminded why he never came to shit like this. Not that people were scrambling to invite Tomura Shigaraki to their parties, but his skin itched even when the eyes never focused on him.

Across the room Spinner, the other co-leader of the club, who he knew the best out of everyone, waved at him, and Tomura nodded back. His eyes quickly picked Dabi out of the crowd, leaning off in the corner with a red cup in hand, forehead pushed up against his blond boyfriend’s. Keigo was apparently a reluctant member of the other gaming club on campus—cause of course there was a demand for fucking two—the president of which knew Spinner and who, of course, knew you, which led to Tomura’s asshole, sometimes voyeur roommate being invited along.

Fucking social circles were so needlessly complicated.

Tomura vaguely recognized the other blond guy in the room—Jin was his name? Maybe?—enough to pick his wild, sandy hair out of the crowd, tucked off to the side of the table laden with shitty vending machine snacks. He had his arm slung around someone Tomura had never met before, talking with another short blond girl he didn’t know and Jin’s roommate, Magne. He patted himself on the back for remembering two out of the four names. He also remembered Jin worked at the library, though he hated it, and had been tangentially responsible for hooking the two of you up in that study room, your study room.

Tomura nodded at Jin too as he saw the two of you walk in and enthusiastically shouted some greetings and only one profanity. A new record for him.

Someone else Tomura hadn’t been introduced to shouted from the floor by the gaming set up as Spinner punched the air in triumph in the glow of the victory screen.

“I’m gonna grab us some drinks,” you whispered to him, and he let go of your hand reluctantly, watching as you stopped, doling out hugs to everyone—excluding Dabi—as you went.

He looked around, cast adrift without you to hold him to the dock of social interaction.

It was clear he’d have to find a backup person to cling to for the remainder of the night if you were just gonna fucking abandon him for your friends.

Though Tomura did his best to not be all that salty about it. The residual anger melted a little bit as he watched Magne bear hug you off the floor so hard your back popped. It was only when he felt a hand on his shaking shoulder that Tomura realized he’d been laughing at the spectacle.

Spinner flashed him a toothy smile, arms crossed and watching intently as you pretended to gasp in a breath when Magne finally dropped you from her massive arms.

“Hey man,” he said, wild hair the color of those weird unicorn drinks from that cafe you liked sticking up on end. “How’s it going?”

Tomura shrugged, unsure how to respond without you to fill in the unmediated gaps in conversation.

“Fine, I guess.”

Spinner was not who he would have chosen to hang with all night. Yeah, he knew him the best, but Tomura sorta got the vibes your roommate lowkey hated his fucking guts. And while no one would say he was the master at interpersonal relationships, Tomura could fucking tell when someone didn’t like him. Most of his life till now had been spent in a constant state of snide side eyes and fake politeness.

Maybe that’s why he used to find you so fucking off putting.

But you were different now. He knew you meant all that bullshit. Spinner just wasn’t as good at pretending as he thought he was.

“Nice,” Spinner acted as though he didn’t notice the edge in Tomura’s tone. Or he was just fucking stupid. “I’m glad you guys actually came tonight, I haven’t seen you in awhile.”

He chuckled a bit to soften the blow of that last part, rubbing his neck and smiling sheepishly. Tomura didn’t return the gesture.

“Yeah,” he said simply, kicking at the scuffed linoleum with his sneakers.

He very much wished that you hadn’t tied his hair back so he could hide his face away from Spinner’s stare.

“Listen bro,” that pink head ducked down to catch Tomura’s eye, looking a little bit more guilty now than before. “I know I’ve been kind of a dick lately—and I already talked with them,” he gestured to you, currently pouring some awful, glittery concoction into Jin’s mouth as the smaller blond girl clapped beside you. “But I was just sort of ‘going through it’ for awhile and, well it doesn’t fucking matter, anyway sorry for being such an asshole...”

Tomura’s mouth got dry like it did whenever you hugged him in public or said you liked his eyes. The words drifted around in his head, spitting back error codes as they swirled.

He honestly couldn’t recall a time anyone had ever apologized to him. And he never knew what to say in normal conversation, much less fucking this. Spinner kept looking at him expectantly, but as the silence dragged on, Tomura watched his face falter just a bit.

And that made him feel even worse.

Fuck.

What would you say? Something nice??

“Don’t worry about it,” he blurted—which really was your catchphrase, but he was sure you wouldn’t mind him borrowing it.

“Thanks bro,” Spinner grinned again, this eyes closed, thin lipped thing that made Tomura feel hot just looking into the glow of it. “We’re cool yeah?”

He couldn’t see you, but he could feel that disgusting, proud stare you got every time he elected to order both your drinks when you went out or asked for extra ketchup on his own.

“Whatever, yeah,” Tomura scratched absently at his throat and Spinner jerked his head over to the gaming setup. The Smash music was drifting softly out of twin speakers.

“Wanna play a round?” he asked.

Tomura glanced quickly over at you, now watching as Jin attempted to juggle some of the small snack bags and Magne tossed more flying chips into the mix.

Yeah, you’d probably be awhile.

“...sure.”

It was halfway through the round—in which Tomura was goddamn slaughtering Spinner’s Kirby—that you finally wandered back over to him, two red cups in hand and a few bags of stolen Chex mix.

You set them both down on the small coffee table—also ‘donated’ from the theater department—and plopped next to him on the couch. Spinner growled from the floor, the other club president—The Commission apparently, who the fuck was coming up with these names?—sat kneeled behind him, hands on his shoulders and shouting words of encouragement.

The adrenaline of the fight rushing through him increased exponentially when you gripped his bicep and added your voice to the din.

“Fuck yeah, baby! Kick his fucking ass!”

“Oh wow,” Spinner yelled back. “Now I see where your fucking loyalties lie.”

“Has nothing to do with loyalty,” you laughed. “I just want to see you eat shit for once.”

“Should have come to the big tournament then!” The Commission president chuckled too, looking over their shoulder with a grin.

“Damn, now I’m really sorry I missed it,” you swung your legs up onto the cushions only to tuck them up under yourself as you stared down at the couch. “Ew what the hell is this stain?”

The Commission president was suddenly very much not looking back at you anymore, Tomura noticed. Spinner, at your comment, choked on his fucking spit, not quite dodging Tomura fast enough and tumbling straight off the map.

As Tomura’s character flashed first on the screen you cheered and gripped his face, landing a quick, wet smack of a kiss straight to his fucking lips. Spinner and his friend groaned in unison and there was a chorus of friendly disgust from everyone else gathered around watching.

He could care less.

The air felt strangely alive, people’s gazes flitting over him as though he were part of the scenery. But in a good way this time. Not the purposeful overlooking of his existence, not as though he were an accessory to the room, but a crucial part of it. Like there might be an empty space they would notice if he wasn’t occupying it.

Like he belonged attached to your hand or your hip or just on his own, playing games and drinking shitty juice and laughing at whatever weird as fuck thing Jin shouted at unprompted, random intervals.

Everyone remained gathered by the monitor as you selected your character to face off against him in the next round.

“I’m gonna...” you growled, coming in with an impressive attack and backing out of range, a move signature of yours, “suck your fucking dick!”

“I’m gonna fucking suck yours first, bitch,” he retorted and Magne offered up a kind “hell yeah” in support.

Her large fist came into view over his shoulder, which he found himself bumping against his own without a second thought.

The music filled his ears, the shouting voices no longer suffocating, but adding to the thrum in his chest—the same beat that had his lips pulled up in a smile which ached in his cheeks, but it didn’t matter.

The burn in the cracking skin around his lips and eyes was inconsequential. His face bare of the usual curtains of hair was turned up towards the screen in full display.

He watched you, silhouetted in the blue like of the monitor, saw the figures of your friends gather close around him, engulfing him like an ameba, adding Tomura in as another cell to this new organism.

He breathed.

And felt alive.

#tomura shigaraki x reader #shigaraki x reader #tomura x reader #tw mysoginy #tomura x dabi #shigadabi #bee.talks

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strawboorybunny · 2 years

Text

History

Pairing: Bad Boy!Bucky Barnes x Nerd!Reader

Words: 1800+

Author’s note: Alright guys, my second fic! I hope you guys enjoy reading it! Let me know what your think! Enjoy and happy reading!

Warnings: Fluff, some violence and I wanna say that’s about it.

You sigh in relief as you look around your dorm room. You had just finished unpacking your side of the room. You looked at Brittney and laughed, she was sprawled out on her bed staring at the ceiling. “Enjoying yourself?”

She hummed in response. “Very. Let’s go out and see the campus more. Maybe meet a few new people?”

You look at your best friend. “Us meet people? Is that what introverts do?”

She laughed and sat up. “Well, we are in college now. So let’s enjoy ourselves! Go to parties and hoe it out!”

You gave her a look. “Hoe it out?”

She nodded. “Yup. We need to get laid. Especially you bookworm.”

Your face went bright red. “I…well…shut up and let’s go…”

The two girls changed and walked out of their dorm. The two of you talked and pointed out random things and shared when your classes would be until you saw him. James Buchanan Barnes. The man you have had a crush on since middle school.

Brittney turned and waved a hand in front of your face. “Hey, y/n. Are you good?” You looked at her then back at him. He was laughing along with his friends Steve and Sam. His hair was a bit longer and he wore his signature leather jacket and jeans.

“I didn’t know he was going here…” you muttered.

Brittney looked to see Bucky. “Oh my god…you still like him!”

You immediately went red. “Not so loud Britt!”

She smiled. “You should go talk to him.”

“Britt, I don’t think he would even remember me. He didn’t even know I existed until our project in high school and I’m sure he’s forgotten about me.”

She sighed. “You’re way too hard on yourself. Let's go and talk to them.” Before you could say another word, she dragged you down to the three boys. Steve was the first to notice you. He gave you a smile. “Y/n, I haven’t seen you since graduation. I didn’t know you were attending here.” You blushed slightly and tucked a piece of hair behind your ear. You nodded as he chuckled. “Just as shy as always. This is my friend Sam and you remember Bucky.”

“How are you ladies doing?” Sam said with a smile while Bucky looked uninterested to be in the conversation. You gulped slightly when you glanced at him. Your heart dropped slightly as you looked back at Steve.

“This is my friend Brittney.” You said quietly. She waved as Steve greeted her.

“You know, some of the guys are throwing a party. You guys should come.” Sam said as he took out his phone.

As you opened your mouth to reject the offer, Brittney spoke, “We would love to! Here, text me the address.” She handed her phone to Sam and they exchanged numbers. You glanced at Bucky again to notice he was looking at you. He smirked when your face got red.

“We should get going. It was nice catching up. We’ll see you at the party.” You quickly said as you grabbed Brittney’s arm and walked away from the boys.

Your leg bounced as you thought about the party tonight. You looked out the window, every scenario running through your head. The professor’s words sound like background noise to your raging thoughts. You perked up when you heard the word “partners”.

“I have already assigned you partners. Please, once you get your papers, get with your partner and begin to brainstorm. This project is due in two weeks.” Your professor said as she placed a paper with the assignment on your desk. Your heart dropped when you noticed that Bucky was your partner. You didn’t even realize he took this class with you. You glanced to your left when you saw someone sit right next to you.

“I guess we should get started.” Bucky said with an uninterested tone. You nodded and read over the assignment. Bucky watched as you twirl your hair. He knew you did that when you were focused. He found it cute. He hated that he loved to know these little things about you. He’s been learning them since he was your partner in high school. You were a lot more quiet back then but he didn’t mind. You were different from the rest of the girls. You didn’t chase after him nor did you just want to sleep with him. You just sat in the back of the classroom either looking out the window in a deep daydream or you were reading books. Back then, he asked Steve about these emotions he felt. He grew embarrassed when Steve just laughed and said he had a little crush on you. He thought that he had gotten rid of this crush but when he saw you on campus, he knew his feelings never went away.

“...What do you think?” You asked as you looked at Bucky. You had written down a set plan for the outline of the presentation and as nervous as you were, you asked him to meet at your dorm sometime.

“Huh? Sorry, I wasn’t paying attention.”

You sighed slightly. “It’s okay. I have a plan for the presentation. I was asking if you think it would be a good idea to do it at my dorm.”

He hummed and nodded. “Yup. Sounds good.”

“Do you need my number?”

He shrugged. “I can just get it from Steve.” You looked away and nodded. Once your professor dismissed you, you quickly grabbed everything and left the classroom. You sighed with relief once you reached your dorm room.

“Britt, you are not going to believe...what is this?”

She gave you a smile as she held up outfits in front of the mirror. “Our outfits for tonight. I already picked them out.”

You set your bag down before looking at them on the bed. “They’re so revealing…”

She hummed in agreement. “Yes, and you’re going to actually show some skin.” She grabbed one of the outfits off the bed. “Now, put this on.”

You and Brittney walked into the party. Anxiety ran through your body as you looked at everyone dancing and drinking. You held on to each other as you both made your way to the backyard. “Hey ladies!” You both look over to see Sam waving at you. A feeling of relief washed over you seeing your friend. You smiled and waved back before letting go of Brittney. “I’m gonna go get some drinks.” You nodded and watched her walk towards Sam. You looked around and frowned when you didn’t see Bucky. You sighed at your own stupidness knowing he was probably in some room with another girl.

You jumped when you felt a hand on your shoulder. You looked over to see a smiling Steve. “Hey. He’s not here yet.”

“Bucky not at a party? That’s unusual.” Steve laughed and nodded his head. “Want a drink?”

“Oh sure. Britt knows what I like.” He nodded and went to the bar. You sighed as you sat down on one of the steps. Steve smiled at you as he came back over. He handed you a red solo cup as he sat down next to you. “Thanks.” He nodded as you took a sip.

The two of you made small talk before an arm wrapped around Steve’s shoulder. “Hey pal. Sorry I’m late. Was a little busy.” Bucky said as he held up the case of beer. He sat down next to Steve. Bucky then looked over at you. His breath hitched as he took in your appearance. It was definitely different from your everyday attire. He glanced around to see some of the guys eying you. Steve smirked slightly when he noticed the annoyed look on his best friend's face.

You eventually got up in search of the bathroom. You had let Brittney know just in case Sam or Steve was looking for you. You made your way through the crowd of people and up the stairs. As you were searching, someone grabbed you from behind. “Hello beautiful.”

You turned around to see Brock Rumlow. You immediately became annoyed, knowing him and his antics. His grip got tighter when you tried to leave. “Get off me.” He laughed and pulled you into a room.

“If I knew you were able to get this hot, I would have fucked you earlier.” You gasped before struggling again. He slammed you up against the wall right as the door flew open. You saw pure rage in Bucky’s eyes. He pulled Rumlow back and punched him.

“Don’t fucking touch her.” He said with each punch. You watched before grabbing his arm.

“Bucky stop! You’re going to kill him!” You yelled as you tried to pull him away. Bucky lightened up before turning and grabbing your hand. He pulled you out of the room and downstairs before leaving the house. “Bucky, where are we going?”

“Away from this party.” He climbed onto his bike before motioning for you to do the same. You looked back at the house before following him. Once you wrapped your arms around his waist, he took off down the road. You squealed and tightened your grip. He chucked and patted your hands. You looked around at the scenery around you. You had assumed he would have brought you back to the dorms and call it a night but he made his way to the park. He pulled into the parking lot and got off. He turned and looked at you. “Are you alright?”

You nodded and glanced at him. “I’m just a bit shaken up.”

Bucky nodded. “Rumlow’s an ass. He just thinks you’re some slut who wants to be fucked but, I know that’s not you.” You looked at him in surprise. He chuckled. “What? You think I would forget about the shy girl who somehow made a bigger impact on some people than she realizes.” You blushed and smiled. Bucky made his way over to you. He placed a hand on your cheek. You placed your hand on top of his. He looked into your eyes before claiming your lips. You blushed before kissing him back. “You have no idea what you do to me.” He said once he broke the kiss.

You smiled and looked into his eyes. “Probably the same as what you do to me.”

“And here I thought history was just repeating itself.” He chuckled when you gave him a confused look. “High school. I had a crush on you back then and then class today, I found it funny. It was the first place where I thought you were beautiful.” You then caught Bucky off guard as you kissed him. Bucky wrapped his arms around you as he deepened the kiss. Bucky held you close as he broke the kiss. “Be mine?” You giggled and nodded.

Taglist: @cxddlyash @jessalyn-jpeg @noisynightmarefest @shyartistmaddie

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes imagines #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes one shot #bucky barnes oneshot #bucky barnes preference #bucky barnes preferences #sebastian stan #sebastian stan imagine

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sunrisefairy · 3 years

Text

My muse

Pairing: Art student!Sirius x reader Warning: NSFW! MDNI 18+, swearing, fingering, unprotected sex, if I’ve forgotten anything please let me know! Summary: Sirius is struggling with an art assignment until he finds inspiration in his girlfriend. Or the one when Sirius and reader bang on a canvas. A/N: wrote this for @anxiousblanketqueen writing challenge, I had a lot of fun with this one Jill so I hope you enjoy it too. Based of the prompt Art Sex. This article is helpful with visualising the art work!

Taglist: if you’re crossed out i couldn’t tag you @theweasleyslut @anxiousblanketqueen @accioweaslcy @widowdays @inglourious-imagines @garbdump @star-sunshine-sage @weelittleweasley @a-dusty-emerald @starlightkell @omghufflepuff @weasleysprincess @j-amespotter @gryffindorgirl To be added to the taglist click here

“Oh my god this is fucking bullshit!” Sirius groans before throwing his paint brush, it landing with a clatter on the hardwood floor of his art studio.

You hear all the commotion from the kitchen and decided to check in on your boyfriend. It was nearing the end of the term and Sirius had been very agitated and snappy from all the stress.

“You okay babe?” you poke your head through the door to see Sirius standing in the middle of the room, practically death staring a half-finished painting resting on one of his wooden easels.

��Fucking bullshit,” your boyfriend mumbles, clenching and unclenching his paint stained hands.

You slowly walk up to him and wind your arms around his waist and kissing his back through his white cotton t-shirt, “wanna talk to me about it?” you whisper.

Sirius twists in your grip until he’s facing you allowing you to get a good look at him; his shoulders are tense, his jaw clenched tightly from the pressure of school and his eyebrows are furrowed which has become a regular facial expression of him the past few weeks. You reach your hand up and delicately trace the worry lines in his forehead. Sirius immediately relaxes at your touch; his faces becomes more natural and his shoulders slump. Since dating Sirius you’ve come to understand how much he struggles to talk about his feelings. He doesn’t like dumping his problems on those around him as it makes him feel like a burden. So you try your best to be patient with him and always remind him you’ll be here no matter what.

“Just stressed about school,” Sirius murmurs his eyes looking down at the floor between your bodies.

You let your hand fall down to his shoulders, lightly squeezing, “yeah? What about school?”

Sirius’ hands find their way under the t-shirt you’re wearing which evidently is one of his that you’ve stolen, he lets his fingers trace patterns on your warm skin. “Just this one assignment is making me go insane. Can’t seem to get it right.” He gestures to the canvas sitting in the middle of the room.

If you’re being honest, anything Sirius paints leaves you memorised and evokes numerous emotions from you. You are constantly telling your boyfriend how talented he is and every time he’ll roll his eyes at your compliment. “I think it looks amazing babe,” you state truthfully.

To no surprise, Sirius rolls his eyes at your comment. “yes, well you have to say that ‘cos you’re my girlfriend.”

Sirius leaves your embrace and walks back over to the painting, crossing his arms over his chest and frowning so intensely you think laser beam might shoot from his eyes and through this artwork. He starts mumbling again, irritation is laced thickly on his words, “representation of raw love,” he mocks, “what a load of utter crap. My professor is so pretentious, the only instruction he gives us for this stupid bloody assignment is ‘make a piece which represents raw love’ what does that even mean? I’ll tell you what it is, it’s fucking bullshit.”

You shuffle closer to Sirius so you’re standing at his side, both staring at his current piece. You’re not really sure how to help, you’re no artist but you hate seeing Sirius so worked up. “What are other people in your class doing for the assignment? Maybe you can gather inspiration from them?”

Sirius shrugs and stuffs his hands in his dark jeans which are covered in paint splatters, “Kirra’s doing a photography piece of her husband and kids, Gage is making some sculpture of his dog.”

“Alright,” you pause for a brief moment “well maybe think of ways people show love or how you show love, like real emotional love ya’know?” you feel like you’re grasping at straws here and making up some bullshit.

You glance over at Sirius, he’s biting his bottom lip deep in thought, you stay silent not really knowing what else to say to assist him. Slowly a look of realisation washes over your boyfriend’s face, eyes wide and a grin gracing his lips. “Holy shit baby, you’re a genius!”

Butterflies erupt deep in your belly from the praise and you giggle when Sirius starts peppering your face with tiny kisses to show his gratitude. Eventually he connects your lips together in what you thought would be a short but sweet kiss. However, you squeak in surprise when Sirius quickly deepens the kiss, his hands gripping tightly at your waist before slowly moving them down to grope at your arse.

“You should probably get working on your project then Sirius,” you breathe against his mouth, disappointed to stop things before they get too heated but you know Sirius’ inspiration comes and goes in waves and if you wait until after the two of you get off, then he might fall back into feeling unmotivated again.

“I am working on it,” you pull away confusion all over your face.

“What do you mean?” you query.

Sirius chuckles and moves away from you to move the canvas and easel to the edge of the room out of the way, he starts laying out a large piece of cream canvas fabric on the floor. “Think about it, what’s a way people show love?” he asks you, squirting numerous colours of paint carelessly onto the fabric.

“Babe there’s a lot of way people show love,” you answer puzzled, what did making out with you have to do with his piece? And why was he now squirting colours onto a blank canvas.

Sirius continues, “yes I know that but what about a raw, emotional way people show love? a primal way to show love so to speak?”

When you finally look back up at Sirius’ face you’re met with a cheeky smirk that you know all too well. It’s not until he removes his shirt do you connect the dots. “Sirius I’m not letting you fuck me on this canvas for a university project for god’s sake.”

The raven-haired boy’s grin only widens as he slowly moves closer to you, his eyes burning into your skin. You feel hot and vulnerable under his gaze, it’s like he’s stalking his prey. Your breath hitches in your throat when Sirius’ body is pressed flush against your own and you can feel his hot breath fanning your face as he speaks in a low, hushed tone, “I’m not going to fuck you,” his voice drops an octave like it does when he’s feeling horny. Just the tone of his voice alone causes a wetness to pool in your panties. “Wanna make love to you baby. Wanna show you how much I love you, can I do that darlin’?”

You bite your lip trying to swallow the moan that is threatening to spill from your mouth when Sirius starts leaving sloppy kisses on your neck. Damn Sirius Black for knowing all your weak spots.

“Just want to make you feel good baby girl,” he tugs the off t-shirt your body. “Can I do that? Can I make you feel good?”

You close your eyes and focus on Sirius’ large hands cupping and massaging your breasts tenderly, you always were putty in his hands. Fuck it you thought. “Yes, please make love to me Sirius.”

The boy grins and whispers a thank you against your skin. He takes no time in removing both of your clothes until you’re standing in front of each other naked. You and Sirius take the opportunity to study each other. You gaze over all the curves and lines on Sirius’ body, the way his muscle flex and move, the freckle on his hip bone, the tiny scar on his left shoulder, the coarse hair of his happy trail. He was beautiful, stunning, breathtaking. And he was all yours.

Sirius helps you lay down against the canvas, you gasp at the cold, squishy feeling of the paint beneath you. It feels foreign but not unwelcoming, you wriggle a little, enjoying the way the substance slides around. Sirius kneels between your legs, relishing in the way your chest is already rising and falling frantically from arousal, “so gorgeous darlin,” he traces a finger down from your collar bone all the way to your core finding it soaked already.

You squirm when Sirius teases your entrance with his finger, the cold paint moving and mixing into the canvas under you. A quiet whine escapes your lips the moment Sirius pushes his index finger inside you and starts pumping it steadily.

“Need you to be loud for me baby, want to know how good I make you feel ��kay?” Sirius commands trying to get into a comfortable position in between your spread legs, his body sliding slighting from the paint.

You answer him with a loud moan. Soon Sirius has added 2 more fingers into the mix causing you to wriggle and rock your hips into his hand, “so good Sirius, fuck.”

With his free hand, Sirius grips your thigh trying to keep you still, blue paint smears against the soft flesh of your thigh and Sirius is captured by how striking you look laying here right now, chest flushed, and eyes closed. The way your body is squirming from pleasure is causing the paint on the canvas to blend and mix together. Sirius scoops up some red paint from the fabric and swipes it across your breasts and over your nipples, “so pretty.” He mumbles tugging and pinching your nipples.

“Sirius,” you pant desperately, “please. Need more.”

Sirius withdraws his fingers earning a whine from you and strokes his cock a few times before lining it up with your entrance, “shh darlin’. M’here to make you feel good, yeah? Want me to make you feel good?”

You wrap your legs around him urging him to finally push into you. You needed it, needed to feel Sirius stretch you out and fill you up with his cock, needed to hear Sirius gasp and groan into your ear, needed to feel him rock his hips into yours, “please Sirius.”

With a low groan escapes from both of you when Sirius finally pushes into you, Sirius begins thrusting his hips deep and slow into yours, both of your relishing in the feeling and sensation coursing your bodies. Hands around running along the others body, squeezing, tugging, scratching at skin, leaving traces of paint in its wake. Sirius has buried his head in the crook of your neck, his hair tickling your cheek, mumbling how beautiful you look spread out for him.

Deeper, you need it deeper. Wrapping your legs tightly around your boyfriend, you manage to roll the two of you over, Sirius underneath you with you straddling his waist, allowing you to bounce of his cock. From this angle, he reaches deeper inside of you, his hard cock prodding at that sponging spot inside of you. The pure affection and love the two of you feel for each other was unmistakeable in this moment. The tenderness and intimacy of this act made your toes tingle and heart warm in your chest.

Continuing to bounce up and down on Sirius cock, you take a second to watch the boy below you, the only word seemingly fitting to describe him was angelic. His dark locks are sprawled out around the canvas, a mixture of red, blue and purple paint framing his body as well as splotches on his skin. His eyes are trained on yours, a look set in them that you’ve come to be familiar with, undying love.

You lower your head to connect your lips together, wanting-no needing to feel close, to feel connected.

“I love you,” you mumble breathlessly against Sirius’ pink lips. You feel that familiar euphoric sensation creeping up on you, Sirius’ cock hitting your g-spot every time you lower your body.

Sirius’ grips your waist tight and firmly, his own hips slamming up into you, “I love you too baby, so much.” He can feel your pussy clenching around him, he watches the way your breasts bounce between your bodies, he reaches his head forward to latch his mouth onto your nipple, sucking and licking on the sensitive bud. The noises slipping from your mouth makes his cock twitch.

“Sirius,” you pant threading your fingers through his dark hair to keep him close to your body.

Your body feels like it’s on fire and ready to combust, your legs trembling, and you know you won’t last much longer with the way Sirius is suckling at your nipple and he knows it.

“Want you to cum for me darlin, be my good girl and cum on my cock,” he groans into your breast, sucking and licking at your salty skin.

The coil in the pit of your belly snaps and with a load high pitched whine you’re releasing all over Sirius’ cock, your pussy clenching and legs shaking from the stimulation. After your release, it only takes Sirius a few more thrusts until he’s following suit, his load shooting and filling you up, a string of I love you’s tumbling from both of your mouths.

You collapse onto Sirius’ chest, neither of you make any effort to move even once your breathing has settled. Laying here with Sirius made you feel safe and protected. The way his index finger was trailing up and down your spine made you shiver, and you could feel him kissing your scalp gently. Undeniably, there was love radiating from his body, you could feel it and you only hope he could feel it radiating from yours too.

~~~

“Hey guys, that painting hanging up in the bedroom is new, yeah?” James questions, traipsing back into the living room where the rest of the group was.

You feel a heat rise in your cheeks when you realise which painting the bespectacled boy is referring too. Sirius nods pulling you tighter into his side.

“Did you paint that one Pads?” Remus asks. Most, if not all the artwork displayed in yours and Sirius’ home was created by him. It normally took a bit of persuading Sirius to let you hang up his work, he didn’t like to come across as cocky. But as soon as this canvas was dried and stretched onto a frame Sirius wasted no time in mounting it; above your shared bed, him claiming it ‘gets him in the mood whenever he looks at it’ (and he really wasn’t lying).

The boy beside you grins and plants a sloppy kiss against your cheek, “me and Y/N painted that one,” he says teasingly.

You shoot him a death glare warning him to keep his big mouth shut. “Don’t,” you mouth.

“That’s so cool! Didn’t know you were so artistic Y/N!” James exclaims excitedly, clearly impressed by the painting.

Sirius chuckles loudly pinching your side making you yelp, “oh she’s very talented when he comes to that type of stuff. I think we might need to make another piece together babe, what do you think?”

#JTR23 #Sirius Black #Sirius Black smut #Sirius Black x reader #Sirius Black x you #Sirius Black imagine #Sirius Black imagines #smut

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221bshrlocked · 3 years

Text

Show Me Your True Colors

Pairing: Marcus Pike x Fem!Reader

Words: 14092 (I swear this was supposed to be a short oneshot but it got out of hand. I'm so so sorry.)

Warnings: 28% smut, 72% plot. Penetrative, unprotected sex (wrap the shlong before you king kong my dudes). Oral (male and female receiving). Fingering and Squirting due to overstimulation. Some dom/sub elements but not full-on. Creampie. Rough handling (e.g. hair-pulling, spanking, hand-binding, some more hair-pulling). I think that's all?!

Inspired by these posts [x] [x] and by this lovely artist. Thanks @danniburgh for humoring me with my thots.

A/N: I came back from my temporary hiatus to post this because I couldn't wait. And now I shall return to my little corner again. Sorry guys these school/administrative issues are taking longer to deal with so I'm for the most part still away. This is not beta'd. Let me know how I'm doing in the comments please and reblogs are always appreciated. Enjoy. And you can add yourself to the taglist here.

It’s such a different atmosphere, from what he remembers at least. It’s been so long since he stepped foot on a university campus, and he can’t help but smile at the spectrum of personalities all around him. While some students lounge underneath the trees and on the grass, others ran hastily to their courses. Those were probably freshmen.

As he makes his way through the campus, he has to look at his phone numerous times to figure out where exactly he was going. That’s definitely one thing he didn’t miss about being in school, the fact that he was shit in directions and how he almost always got lost during the beginning of each semester.

When he does finally find the art history department, he silences his phone and heads to the first office he can find.

“Good afternoon, my name is Nicola. How can I help you?”

“Hi Nicola, I’m here to see Dr. Y/N Y/L/N. I was wondering if you could direct me to her office please?” Marcus smiles as he unbuttons his suit jacket, not realizing that his FBI tag was now visible to the world.

“She’s currently in one of her lectures, you could-” Marcus follows Nicola’s line of sight when she grows quiet and groans when he sees that she noticed his FBI tag.

“Please, she’s not in trouble. I am part of the FBI Art Crime Team, and I’m actually coming to ask if we could get her professional opinion on an artifact. Just need her to consult on something.” He smiles at Nicola and waits for her expression to relax before he continues.

“Do you mind telling me which lecture hall she’s in?”

“Y-yes, she’s in H140. Make a right at the door and it’s the hall all the way at the end.”

“Thank you Nicola, have a good day.” Marcus nods at her before he buttons his jacket again to avoid any suspicious, terrified looks as he makes his way to the lecture hall. He walks quietly, avoiding the students walking past him as they exit the rooms. When he reaches the door, he turns the knob slowly to not make any noise, hoping that he wasn’t being too disruptive once he walks in. As he shuts it behind him and looks around, his eyes almost fall out of their sockets.

There are at least 250, maybe 300 students filling the seats of the room. He awkwardly smiles when some students look to the side and see him standing at the foot of the door. He quickly takes a seat and says nothing as the students return their attention to the large projected screen. Marcus hears what he assumes is your voice through the large speakers but he can’t place your position. As he looks at the projected images, he finally catches you through his peripheral vision as you step off the railing near the exit doors at the front of the room.

“Because of this association with the gods, many amulets used to ward off the evil eye include depictions of mythological figures and deities who are almost, if not always, female. To the Greeks and Romans, the most common fascinations with an evil eye were women in any shape or form. They were thought to have the most powerful and harmful gaze that might kill if eye contact was established. That’s basically me telling you to never look me in the eye or else I will curse the cow of your second cousin twice removed.” Laughter reverberates off the walls at your joke and only grows louder when you whisper, “just kidding...or am I?” Marcus can’t help but smile at your jokes, watching with fascination as you move up and down the stairs of one side of the lecture hall once you continue to speak.

“Now, I know what some of you are thinking...isn’t that a bit sexist? Well, to the ancients, no. And to us, it’s kind of a meh thing. I know that doesn’t sound very feminist of me but it all comes down to the culture and the ancient practices that carried over. Just remember that it wasn’t because they were women, it was because they were thought to be powerful...a glass half-full kinda thing.” Marcus watches you closely as you maintain your focus on the students before you switch the slide and stand in the middle of the stairway with your back towards the projector.

“So, we find goddesses such as Erinnyes or the Furies associated with the evil eye because of their avenging nature. Their heads were covered in serpents and their eyes were always bloodshot and one of the Furies by the name of Megaera was considered in late antiquity as the personification of envy and whose eyes were the most envious and deadly of all the Furies. She was described by poets as baskanon omma pherousa...bearing the evil eye. Naturally, many children in late antiquity constantly wore amulets of stone galactite to protect them from the eyes of Megaera, and sometimes even wore necklaces with her face on it to counteract the evil eye of someone else and have her curse the ones who tried to harm them. Basically, the ancients were playing a game of tag with the evil eye.” You descend the stairs and walk to the other side of the hall, and Marcus feels his chest tighten with how much confidence you exude, not just through your words but with how you carry yourself as well.

“Perhaps the most famous of these dangerous women is Medusa who was one of the Gorgones in Greek mythology. The Gorgones were one of many female beings such as the Harpies, the Erinnyes, the Graiae, and the Keres, who were said to be grim-faced, and who held horrible looks. Briefly, the story tells of how she was one of the most beautiful women to ever walk the earth and later became hateful-looking by Athena as punishment for being raped by Poseidon in the middle of the huntress’ temple. Her hair became serpents and she was so furious that anyone who would look at her would turn into stone...at least that is the version you will hear from the “all-knowing” male scholars within this field. But, and I know I’m going on a rant here, if you’re like me, you’re more likely to argue that Athena pretended to hate Medusa. The serpents were no punishment! The goddess looked at the poor woman and gave her a weapon to use against men because unfortunately, she couldn’t do anything to avenge her...not only because she didn’t get along with Poseidon but also because he was a god as well. Anyway, back to Medusa’s amazing power which I would love to have so I could use it whenever I’m talking to some professors in this department...don’t quote me on that.” Again, Marcus chuckles at your side commentary and notices how calm and enjoyable the atmosphere of the lecture is. If only he had professors like you when he was in university.

“Even after she was decapitated by Perseus, her powers were very much alive and it is said that Athena placed Medusa’s image on her shield, once Perseus returned it, in order to use it when she hunted. This suggests that depictions of her severed head held apotropaic power and like earlier, one could use a creature who held the power of the evil eye against another being who is said to use the evil eye. Following this principle of similia similibus, it is not surprising that most of the amulets found in Greece and Rome contained illustrations of Medusa’s decapitated head on them. What was once the possessor of the evil eye became a protective symbol against the very same thing.” Just as you are about to continue with the next image, an alarm goes off and Marcus frowns in shock at how inconsiderate it was that phones weren’t silenced. But his surprise only heightens when he sees you running down the steps to your desk and picking up the phone sitting in the middle of the table.

“Ahhhh man, we were just about to get to the cavalier. That’s okay. Remember, the second response is due first thing on Friday. If you can’t turn it in during class, shoot me an email and we can work something out with my TAs. Go forth my clever spawns!” Marcus stands up and glues himself to the wall when he sees students emptying the lecture hall, his eyes on your form at the front of the class. He hopes you don’t leave out of the front exit and begins to make his way to you through the multitude of undergrads leaving. When he reaches your desk, he stands to the side until you finish chatting with one of the students and begins to collect your work.

“Dr. Y/L/N?”

“Please, it’s just Y/N. Who are you and how can I help you today?” You almost do a double take when you look up from your bag and see the man standing in front of you. To say that you were starstruck by the man in front of you would have been the understatement of the century.

“I’m Special Agent Marcus Pike,” he holds out his FBI tag for you and watches as you raise an eyebrow at him before you swing your bag across your shoulders and motion for him to follow you out of the hall.

“I would like to put it on record that I do not, in fact, wish to turn any of my colleagues to stone.” You joke, and Marcus senses that you are perhaps nervous at seeing his tag.

“Believe me, I would like to do that to some of mine as well...but no, not why I’m here.” Marcus clips the tag below his jacket as he walks with you.

“May I ask what I have done that caught the FBI’s attention?” You walk ahead of him, and ask him if it was okay for him to head over to your office with you.

“I’m with the FBI Art Crime Team and I’m here on a request. We would like to consult you on an open investigation and I came here to ask what your availability is.” Marcus follows you up the stairs, barely forcing his eyes to remain on your feet instead of elsewhere.

“Oh, me? That’s...wow. Of all the things I thought I would accomplish in my life, that’s definitely not one of them. May I ask what it is you need my opinion on?” You push open the doorway of the staircase and point at your office across the quiet hall.

“Unfortunately, there is a lot of paperwork you need to fill out before we get to work so I can’t disclose anything about the case until you sign in.” Marcus steps into the office behind you and watches as you set your things down before you move to your desk. He can’t help but feel his muscles loosen at the sight of the bookshelves across your room.

“This is probably the most exciting thing to happen to me all year long so yes, hundred percent. I’m available for the rest of the day today as well as tomorrow and Friday after lecture which ends at the same time as today’s.” You beam up at him as you take two books out of your bag and replace them with a folder that was sitting in the middle of your desk. Marcus looks at you quizzically, marveling at how much easier this was going. He genuinely thought he was going to meet with someone who was probably a bit proud and perhaps as much of an asshole as his previous professors but you were so much different than anyone he’s ever met within this field.

“Are you sure? I understand if you need to take a week or two-”

“No please, you’ll be saving me from faculty lunches and two seminars by colleagues that I genuinely cannot fucking stand- oh, sorry. Sorry, didn’t mean to-” You swing your leather bag around your shoulder again and shut the blinds of the windows before you walk to the door.

“Please, you don’t have to worry about that with me.” Marcus chuckles at the excitement rolling off of you and bites his lower lip when he watches you quickly fix your hair.

“I might need to have lunch on the way to your office though if that’s okay?” You take a plastic container out of your bag and smile sheepishly at him as you lock your door.

“Wow...is your bag bigger on the inside or something? And, yeah fine by me.” He pushes his hands into his pockets again and walks next to you, a little corner in his heart gradually filling with hope letting him know that he should be cautious. He didn’t want a repeat of last time.

You both chat briefly on your way to headquarters and Marcus apologizes every time he looks over and sees you struggling with your food. By the time you make it to the building, Marcus can tell you are a bit nervous and he assures you once more that this was merely a consultation.

“Wait how did you even find me?” You take your jacket off along with everything in your pockets, laying them down near your bag as they go through the scanner. Marcus passes through with his badge and waits for you on the other side, picking up your things as you put your jacket back on.

“I made some calls and a friend suggested to get in touch with you because of your expertise.”

“Oh now we’re getting somewhere. You have a Greek artifact don’t you?” Marcus halts in his steps and looks over to you as he shuts his eyes in irritation. He should have watched what he said.

“S-sorry I couldn’t help it. I’ll stop until I fill out whatever paperwork you have for me.” You take your things from him and walk quietly as he leads you to the elevators.

“I didn’t mean to be rude. It’s not personal, it’s just-”

“Business I know. I know. I’m so used to watching this kind of stuff in movies that I tend to forget it’s all fake and you’re...the real deal.” You hope he doesn’t see the way your eyes trail over his taller form, silently cursing yourself when you meet his eyes and notice how he’s already staring at you with a smile.

“Sorry.” You apologize again and look straight ahead, hands tightening around the leather strap when you realize that he’s still looking at you.

Marcus fists the hands in his pockets to prevent himself from saying anything else that might make you uncomfortable, and he looks at the increasing numbers as they reach his floor. A loud ring signals your arrival and Marcus stretches out his hand so you could walk ahead of him. You wait until he tells you where to go and say nothing when he stops for a second and whispers something to another agent.

When you arrive at his office, you stand to the side and wait for him to tell you what to do.

“What’re you doing all the way over there? Come here.” Marcus calls you over to his desk and smiles, hoping to put you a little at ease. You step towards him and set your stuff on the floor as you sit opposite him on one of the two chairs. He pulls out a couple of files and sets them in front of you in four different piles.

“That’s a lot of paperwork.” You chuckle nervously as you take out a pen from your bag.

“I know, I’m sorry. But that’s why I’m here. These are the building rules and your signature is basically you telling us you’ll abide by all of them.”

“I don’t know any of them.” You respond immediately, and rub harshly at the pen between your fingers.

“I’ll be with you at all times so you don’t have to worry about that.” His smile throws you off guard and you nod before you sign the highlighted areas.

“And these are you swearing that you will tell no one of whatever you see, hear, do, etc. within the building.” You nod and sign through the stapled paperwork before sliding them his way.

“We’re almost done. These two are like the second pile but they have to do with this case specifically. And they extend to outside the premises, meaning that if I or another agent on the case tells you anything that has to do with your work here today while we’re grabbing coffee from across the street, you can’t say it to a living soul.” Marcus points at the four highlighted boxes and tells you to sign the date next to them as well.

“So I can say it to my dead cousin?” You ask as you sign the two papers and hand them to him, unable to hold your laughter when he shakes his head as he pushes the last pile towards you.

“I had a feeling you were going to say that.”

“Can’t help it.”

“And finally, these are you swearing that whatever you tell us today, be it an opinion, a fact, or anything else, is the absolute truth. Basically, you’re not fucking with us.” You raise an eyebrow at his choice in words and he shrugs his shoulders as he motions for the empty spaces again. When you’re done, Marcus collects all the files and places them in a folder before he unlocks his desk and pushes them inside.

“I don’t ever want to see my signature again.” You whisper as he leads you out of the office towards a conference room. He holds the door for you and nods ahead, waiting for you to step in before he shuts the door behind him and turns around. You try to ignore the hand pushing on your lower back as you walk in and spot three gentlemen and one woman standing towards the end of the long table.

“Wow, that was quick.” The female agent is first to speak and you say nothing as Marcus introduces you to them.

“Thank you for coming on such a short notice.”

“Of course. This is very exciting for me so I’m happy to help in any way.” You shake her hand and stand to the side as Marcus motions for you to sit down.

“This is Lydia, Ethan, Henry, and Noah.” Marcus points to each member of his team as he pulls out a chair next to you and sits down.

“It’s nice to meet you.” You nod towards them and look at the folder that Lydia hands to you. Marcus says something as you flip open the folder but you can’t respond, eyes almost falling out of their sockets as you take in the large image on the page. You look up at Marcus and everyone else before you return your attention to the picture.

“You recognize what this is then?” Ethan breaks the silence and watches as you move through the pages quickly.

“Umm, that seems like an oversimplification but yes.” You continue to study the images in front of you for another few minutes before you set them down and look up at Marcus.

“Some explanation would really help me out right now.” You tap softly on the papers, and your mind conjures up the wildest possible stories behind the images currently displayed in front of you.

“Oh right yes. We received a tip from the Smithsonian’s acquisitions department about a man trying to sell them this artifact for three million dollars,” Marcus notices your eyes widen but he continues, “but they’re not sure if it’s stolen or not. And he refuses to cooperate.”

“Which is where you come in. Have you seen anything like this before and if so, where?” Lydia stares at you as you return your attention to the pictures again.

“And the Smithsonian can’t confirm this?”

“Far from it. Marcus here is just afraid they’ll eventually get greedy and do anything to get their hands on it.” You look next to you and watch a faint blush take over the agent’s handsome features.

“I mean I don’t blame you. There are a bunch of real assholes in this field.” You laugh when he gives Lydia a ‘told you’ look.

“I’m sorry, but I don’t think I’ll be able to help you if I don’t see the actual pendant.” You shut the folder and push it away from you.

“That might be a problem.” Henry takes his glasses off and proceeds to clean them as he looks at his co-workers.

“Why? Do you not have it anymore?” Your heart skips a beat at the prospect of the FBI losing such an object.

“Oh no we have it. Our guy is afraid we’ll switch it out with a fake so he refuses to hand it to us unless he’s in the same room.”

“That’s funny. Is there a rule that says I can’t look at it while this man is in the room?” You ask Marcus and he can’t help but notice how giddy you’re being all of a sudden. Your excitement is almost palpable and he wills himself to focus on the question and not how you bite your lower lip as you wait for him.

“I mean…”

“You’re all going to be in the room aren’t you?” You cut him off before he says anything and when they all nod, you turn to Marcus once more and wait for his response.

“I guess it’s fine.” Marcus reluctantly answers before he asks Ethan and Noah to bring the man from the interrogation room he’s been in for the past couple of hours. Lydia and Henry let you in on more details and Marcus watches as you furrow your eyebrows in focus, occasionally cutting them off to ask them a question.

Fifteen minutes later and a knock on the door breaks you out of your haze. You look up just as Ethan and Noah walk in with a man in front of them. You say nothing as they bring him to your side of the room and set him down across from you.

“How many times do I have to tell you, I didn’t steal it. I found it!” Your ears perk at his comment but you say nothing as he crosses his arms and narrows his eyes at you.

“May I see it?” You ask before anyone else says anything and the man continues to stare at you before he ignores your question.

“Please, I’m just here to confirm your story. I know for a fact there isn’t a museum out there that has this.” You notice the hardened expression on Henry’s face but he says nothing. A few long moments pass by and the man shifts to take something out of the inside his jacket. You inhale deeply and watch as he unwraps the cloth before he places the small pendant on the table in front of you.

“May I?” You ask again and if Marcus didn’t know any better, he’d think that you’re just trying to put the man at ease. If you were nervous around five FBI agents and you did nothing wrong, then his little thief must have been scared shitless.

When the man nods, you bring out a pair of gloves from your handbag and put them on, forcing yourself to remain calm as you pick up the pendant.

“What a beautiful work of art you are baby. Red jasper, my favorite!” Your excited words break the silence and you look up at the man in front of you with a smile, feeling your hands sweat when he slowly returns the expression.

Got you.

“Greek is marvelous...crystal clear, grammatically correct, unique placement.” It’s as silent as a cemetery and Marcus watches you closely as you narrow your eyes and adjust the stone under the light. If he wasn’t dealing with a criminal and a potentially stolen artifact, he would have told you how beautiful you looked when you were deep in the middle of a task.

“Hmm, what is this 6th century-ish spell? Oh my bad, no no no, I tend to mix them up sometimes. It’s definitely a 7th century formula.” You make an awkward face and watch as Lydia shakes her head at your little mix up.

“Now, let’s see what you got on the other side sweetheart.” You carefully turn the amulet around in the palm of your hand and barely hold back from gasping dramatically.

“My god...what a goddamn sight...oh oops sorry, that was probably blasphemous. A perfectly etched crucifixion...cross with 4 sides, with a plaque at the top...and of course, can’t forget the clothed Christ. The detail on this is truly unlike anything I’ve ever seen, down to the ‘Iesous Xristos Theou Yios Sotare’ around the figure. Where did you say you found it again?” You casually ask as you continue to inspect the stone, almost laughing when the man responds immediately to your question.

“Mount Athos.” Marcus turns to his team in shock. You’d managed to get the information out of him so easily while they spent an entire day trying to get him to say anything. It was a little funny how at ease the man seemed now, leaning forward towards you as you flipped the stone around.

“Ohh the hub of Eastern monasteries. Boy is this the most valuable artifact I’ve ever had the pleasure of looking at then.” You set it down on the cloth and wrap it up before taking your gloves off and leaning back on the chair.

“See, told you its one of a kind. No one’s ever found anything like it before.” The man beams at you before he takes the object and puts it back in his jacket.

“Oh yeah it’s one of a kind alright...because it’s the most fake amulet I’ve ever had the misfortune of examining. I honestly don’t think I’ve ever been this disappointed in my life. And here I thought another one of these was out there. Did you even bother to do any research on this?” You frown at him and cross your arms in irritation, completely missing Marcus’ reaction and how he turns to Lydia to confirm that yes, you just said that it was a fake artifact.

“W-what?”

“I’d love to know where you got the red jasper because you could have fooled me with that. Let’s break this down shall we? The Greek is perfect, too perfect if I’m being honest. You never have grammatically correct syntax etched on a magical amulet, let alone proper diction. Oh and you should have probably used Classical Greek instead of modern Greek, like were you even trying? Really bad move to use a 7th century formula with a non-altered 6th century spell. The formula didn’t even exist yet!” You tilt your head to the side and watch as the man in front of you begins to fidget. His smile is replaced with a shocked expression and you watch as it slowly becomes angry.

Marcus was speechless. He never saw this coming and was looking at you with a mixture of awe and surprise at the turn of events. He could only stare at you as he took in your energy, the same confidence and intelligence he saw earlier in the day when he walked into your lecture.

“As for the back, you never get 4-sided crosses with these, only three, and the head of Christ makes up the fourth which you don’t actually see because of his head. No plaque, too detailed and non-existent in protection spells. Christ is always nude on magical amulets by the way...yes it’s weird, but it’s a fucking amulet and he was just some extra deity. And finally, never, ever, write out ‘Iesous Xristos Theou Yios Sotare.’ You write the acronym IXOYE.” You flip open the folder that was in front of you and grab a sharpie from Marcus’ file, circling the first letter of each Greek word and holding it up as if he was one of your students and you were trying to lecture him.

“Don’t even get me started on your provenance. Mount Athos? I mean for fuck’s sake, Constanza would have been a better option. At least we actually found amulets out there. How much was he asking for this?” You turn to Marcus and completely miss the starstruck eyes he’s giving you. When you raise an eyebrow at him, he finally realizes that you asked him a question.

“Uhhh 3 mil.”

“Oh boy...yeah, this is worth jack shit. Wouldn’t even do it’s intended job if you actually wore it as a protection pendant.” You watch as the man’s expression changes from anger to outrage and you barely have any time to push away your chair and hide behind Marcus before the man tries to jump on top of the table towards you. It takes Ethan and Noah approximately five seconds to tackle him down before they take him out of the room. You watch as they reach for the amulet in his pocket and give it to Henry just as they push him out.

You’re still coming down from the adrenaline rush when Marcus turns around and asks you if you are alright. As soon as you see the gun in his hands, your hold on his jacket tightens and you gulp nervously when you meet his eyes. He apologizes quickly once he sees where you’re looking and quickly puts the gun back in its holster.

“You okay?” Marcus holds your wrist and rubs his thumb over your pulse point until you begin to relax. You fix your jacket and take a deep breath before you meet his eyes, almost gasping when you see how dark and oddly calming they are.

“Didn’t think a consultation would get this exciting but uhh, yeah I’m good. I think.” You try to laugh it off but looking at the object in Henry’s hand makes you realize that the last five minutes did really happen and you actually managed to piss off someone to the point where he tried to attack you.

“And we were worried it was stolen…” Lydia shakes her head when she takes the amulet and swirls it around in her hand.

“I might be wrong but I think you should try to find out who made it, especially because of the red jasper. This came real close to a fake. And you should also try to date it as well...there might be more of these out there.” You smile when Lydia agrees and collects the folders on the table, thanking you on her way out.

“My pleasure...apart from that last bit.” You laugh it off and watch as she exits the conference room with Henry.

“So…” You turn to Marcus and whisper a quick thank you when he hands you your bag.

“So, this definitely wasn’t what I had in mind when I asked you to consult on this case. I- I can’t begin to tell you how sorry I am that this happened. It’s not always like this, I promise. The exciting stuff usually happens when we find guys like him in abandoned warehouses.” Marcus continues to word vomit as he leads you back to his office.

“It’s okay really. My advisor always warned me about this.”

“About working with the FBI?”

“No no, about rambling so much that I piss off someone to the point where they try to kill me.” You’re taken aback by Marcus’ laugh and can’t help but giggle along with him as he leans back in his chair and continues to laugh.

“I hope that doesn’t mean you won’t work with us again?” There’s something in his voice that doesn’t ease the butterflies in your stomach and you place your hand on your chest dramatically as you bat your eyes at him.

“Why Agent Pike, are you trying to recruit me to the FBI?” You ask sarcastically and watch as he shrugs his shoulders before shutting off his computer and standing up.

“Just a consult here and there, should we meet another Greco-Roman artifact? Or...a fake one I guess.” You swallow the lump in your throat when you see the way he’s looking at you and hope that you’re not misreading any signs.

“Can I take you out to dinner? As a thank you and an apology for putting your life in danger?” Marcus is reluctant to ask but he takes the leap of faith and hopes that you wouldn’t reject him.

“I- actually...in all honesty, I don’t think I’ll do well in public after that whole thing.” You gesture towards the outside offices, and Marcus nods in disappointment and contemplates on whether he should ask you to dinner some other time. You never give him a chance to follow-up though.

“How about take-out at my place?” You stand up and smile when you see his eyes beam with excitement as he fixes his tie and motions towards the door.

“Lead the way doctor.” You flush under the title and walk ahead so he doesn’t notice the obvious effect he’s having on you. You glance at Marcus every now and then as you make your way out of the building and towards his car.

You chat about random things as he drives through the busy streets, and you feel your heart skip a beat when he says something scandalous about your favorite Impressionist artwork, not because of the comment but because of the way he winks at you as he slides his hand to your thighs and nudges them to let you know he was just joking. You hope that Marcus asks for your number by the end of the night, maybe even invite you to dinner again, because if you’re being honest, it’s been a while since you met a decent guy and he’s been checking all of your boxes all day long.

Kind. Intelligent. Hard-working. Funny. And of course, attractive. There was something about the way he smiles and you kept on replaying the moment he hid you behind him and continued to ask if you were alright.

“What do you mean you don’t like Bal du moulin de la Galette? It’s one of the most magnificent paintings out there. Best of Renoir’s if you ask me.” You unlock the door and switch on the lights, throwing your coat and bag on the wall before telling Marcus to make himself at him. He takes his jacket off and hangs it as well, turning around to continue his argument.

“Listen, I’m just not a crowd kind of guy. I’m more of a Paris Street, Rainy Day man okay so-”

“Why am I not surprised by that?” You laugh as you bring him a cup of water, hoping you were being subtle as you continued to check out the gun resting in his holster. Shaking your head, you take your phone out again and tell him that it’ll take you a few minutes to order pizza since neither of you can make up your mind.

Marcus looks around when you walk away to place the order, his eyes taking in the three bookshelves behind your couch. It’s almost as if the office space wasn’t enough so you had to make more room for all of your textbooks and novels. Maybe it was the other way around…

He takes a sip of water and glances to the side, instantly choking on the liquid when his eyes zero in on the three watercolor paintings hanging above your television. Marcus blinks rapidly and rubs his eyes to make sure that he wasn’t seeing things. He approaches the wall and looks between the three artworks, unable to tear his gaze away. He notices new details every time he focuses on a different corner of each painting, and his pants suddenly feel uncomfortable when he shifts closer.

“Pizza will be here in thirty-ish minutes and-” You almost drop the phone when Marcus jumps back and almost trips over his own feet. “Sorry I didn’t mean to scare you.” When you walk closer and see the blush creeping down his neck, you can’t help but giggle and glance at your paintings, almost as if you were taunting him into commenting on your choice in decoration.

“These are...interesting.” Marcus avoids looking at them when you stand next to him, merely pointing to the side as he looks at you.

“Oh no...here we go. I know what that means. You don’t like them?” You tilt your head to the side and hold back from smiling when he takes a long sip of water before he sets down the glass.

“N-no no, that’s not...I didn’t mean- I just...it’s a bold choice.” His stutter makes you laugh even harder and you apologize when his blush deepens. “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to laugh. It’s always really funny when people come over because I get all kinds of reactions but you’re definitely the first guy that doesn’t call me a slut because I have pornographic paintings hanging in my living room.”

“Why not? The Dutch lords and the Italian merchants did it, why can’t you?” Marcus is almost offended by the remark and he forgets all about the awkwardness of the paintings when he sees you nod aggressively in agreement.

“Exactly!? Why is a guy allowed to hang an Odalisque in his home but I can’t hang some BDSM scenes?” You take the glass from the table and ask him if he wants more. Marcus shakes his head and quickly attempts to fix himself through his pants before you return.

“So you like them then?” You lounge on one chair and wait for Marcus to sit on the couch before you ask him.

“It’s a different aesthetic I think, and it somehow goes well with your bookshelves. Something about textbooks and nude paintings depicting sex just goes together...can’t explain how. And kudos to the artist too! The brushstrokes, the layering, the complementary colors...the scenes and positions are so natural. They’re perfect combinations. Did you pick them or did you commission them?”

“Oh I commissioned two of them. The third was just too good to not order. I’ll ask you this then, which ones do you think I commissioned?” Marcus glances to the canvases again and grows quiet for a few moments, his eyes switching from one painting to another before he meets your gaze.

“I think you commissioned the two on the left.”

“Why?” You try to hide how impressed you are by how he correctly figured you out, almost cringing when the question leaves your mouth before you could stop yourself. As much as you enjoy where this conversation was going, you really hope this wouldn’t lead to some misogynistic response on his part. Just as Marcus is about to respond, the doorbell rings and you tell him you’ll be right back.

Marcus thanks the heavens that the pizza arrives because he isn’t sure how he could respond to that question without accidentally giving his train of thoughts away. When you come back with plates and napkins, Marcus thanks you and proceeds to separate the pizza slices.

“It was the closest I could get to owning something that resembled the area I study.” You say through chewing and Marcus furrows his eyebrows, silently asking you to elaborate on your comment.

“Nudity I mean. I can’t afford sculptures so I settled with these.”

“They are beautiful. And the positions are-” Marcus stops abruptly when he realizes that his inner monologue just rolled off of his tongue.

“Go on, what were you going to say?”

“I- uh, I just think that the positions are intimate. And they become more intimate the longer you look at them.” He chews faster when you nod and take another slice of pizza.

“You have a favorite?” You ask and pretend you aren’t paying attention to every single word he says. You get the sense that he has a lot to say about the paintings but is choosing to hold back so you don’t get the wrong idea about why he is having dinner with you in your apartment after only knowing you for a few hours.

“Definitely the middle one.” His answer surprises you, especially because the one on the right has handcuffs and you genuinely thought he’d be into that because of his line of work.

“Really? Why?”

“Oh...I- this might sound weird but I think the scene is intense and- and close? Private? I’m not sure what it is I’m trying to say but the fact that she’s completely nude except for the panties around her thighs while he’s fully clothed and is focusing on her pleasure is- it’s intimate. And the hand on her back is a mixture of dominance and care, like he’s letting her know that she has his undivided attention but she has to behave for him.” You’re not sure when exactly you stopped eating and you clear your throat when you realize that Marcus was looking at you to gauge your reaction.

“Y-yeah that...ahuh.” Something about the way he says the word ‘behave’ twists your insides and you immediately stand up and head to the kitchen, whispering something about needing to wash down the food with something. Marcus eats quietly and hopes he hasn’t just made things even more awkward. When you come back and hand him a glass of red wine, Marcus relaxes and continues to eat.

“Have you ever drawn something like this?” You shake your head as you take a sip of the wine, laying against the back of the couch and crossing your legs.

“I wish. Human anatomy is so fascinating I think. I sometimes get this adrenaline rush when I look at the far right one and I tell myself that I’ll sketch all the risque and open positions I can think of but then I remember how long it would take me to finish one piece and I- I don’t have time for that sadly.”

“You can always start out with simpler ones? Maybe solo pieces, and move up from there.” Marcus mirrors you and sits back with the wine glass in his hand.

“Yeah, but I just love this kind of genre so much. It needs to be passionate, and sexy and out there you know.” Marcus smiles at the energetic response, feeling much more relaxed now that he’s had a cup of wine and found chatting about your choice in decoration less awkward.

“I get you. It’s why that lifestyle is interesting to so many people. The whole dynamic, whether we’re talking about the figures in the scene or actual partners, is based on that trust. You- you have to create that sense of trust and comfort for the scene to be enjoyable...pleasurable. It’s not as easy as some think it to be. As a Dom, you have to be aware of your partner at all times and the effect you have on them. And the same goes for a Sub too. You need to ensure that your Dom knows how much trust you put in them and the level of dedication that’s going into the scene. Both parties are depending on each other and it’s- it’s amazing.” Marcus smiles when he notices the intensity swimming in your eyes and he gives you a few seconds to collect your bearings before he asks his next question.

“Would you draw something as intimate as that?” He breaks the silence and watches your train of thought come and go.

“Would you?” You throw the question right back at him, holding in a breath when you see him lean forward with a dangerous glint in his eyes.

“I would...but only if I have the right model.” Marcus doesn’t know where all of this is coming from but he can’t find it in himself to break whatever bubble the two of you found yourselves in. You’re silent for a few moments, long enough for Marcus to think that maybe, just maybe, he’s crossed the line.

But then you’re smiling at him mischievously, chugging down the rest of the wine before standing up and heading towards the hallway.

“I have an easel and some 16x20 papers lying around...I hope you don’t mind working with chalk.” You throw back at him before you walk down the hallway and Marcus has to give himself a quick pep talk before he follows you. He slowly makes his way into your bedroom and stands at the doorstep until you allow him to come in.

“I think the lighting is best in this corner but you’ll be the one working so sit wherever you prefer.” You bring over a chair and set it in front of the easel before you grab the large box of supplies and pull out all the chalk sticks that you have. Marcus nods in silence as he pushes the easel closer to your bed and begins to choose which of the chalk sticks he wants. There is a variety of shapes and sizes, and he’s not sure if he should start out bold or if he should ease himself into this. It’s been a while since he’s drawn a model and he really doesn’t want to screw up, especially because it is you.

Marcus is so busy preparing his workstation that he doesn’t notice you stripping off your clothes. You keep your eyes on him and find the little scrunch he does with his eyebrows when he focuses on something endearing. Taking a deep breath, you take off your bra and panties before laying on the bed and getting in a comfortable position. Your movements are minimal, and you stretch out your legs in wait for him. You fight the part of you that’s yelling at you to cover yourself and keep your focus on him to gauge his reaction.

“Pose however you want and we can work on the postures once we-” The words die in his throat as soon as he looks up from the easel and sees your state of dress, or lack thereof. The thick chalk stick he’s holding between his fingers snaps in half and breaks the blanket of silence that fell on the room. He visibly gulps and doesn’t try to hide the way his eyes trail down your form slowly before they return to look into your dilated ones. Marcus knows for a fact that the image of your heaving chest and hardened nipples will forever be etched in his mind.

“I- uhh, are you...c-comfortable?” He hates how much he’s stuttering and you smile at him when you notice how he is focusing on the wall behind you and not you.

You look around for a few moments, grabbing a couple of pillows and placing them behind your back before you stretch out one leg and bend the other one to your chest. Marcus almost chokes on his breath when he sees how open you are being with him but he says nothing and turns his attention to the blank piece of paper underneath his hand.

“I’m ready.” Your voice brings him out of his stupor and he nods briefly as he tries to reason with himself. He cannot draw you unless he looks at you. But he is well aware of the hardening predicament he’s currently suffering from and he’s sure you probably noticed by now the effect you were having on him.

“I won’t tell you how to do your job Agent, but artists usually have to look at the models they’re drawing to...you know, draw them.” Marcus rolls his eyes at the teasing remark, briefly glancing at you with a raised eyebrow before he begins to softly outline the shape of your shoulders. His cock twitches in his pants and he tries his hardest to not squirm too much in his seat. But every time his eyes move towards your nude form laying not five feet away from him, he silently curses himself and pretends he’s fine and that he isn’t imagining pushing you down and shoving his tongue deep into your wet cunt.

“Are you usually this quiet when you’re sketching, Agent Pike?” Something about the way you’re addressing him makes him clench his jaw tightly and he unintentionally whispers a little louder than he intends in response.

“Jesus fucking Christ.”

Your giggles let him know that you heard his remark and he is sure his face is growing a deeper shade of red but he shrugs his shoulders and ignores your obvious amusement. Marcus swallows the lump in his throat as he shifts his focus below your neck, parting his lips when he notices the tilt of your head from his peripheral vision as he ceases all movement and continues to stare at your chest.

“Oh sorry, is my arm in the way,” you lower your arms and move them behind you to support your weight, never breaking eye contact with him as you rock your bent leg back and forth and give him a full view of your most intimate parts.

Marcus is almost shaking in his seat at the sight of your breasts, unaware that he’s harshly rubbing the chalk stick with his thumb the more your leg sways to the side and reveals the outer folds of your pussy.

“P-perfect, thank you.” He whispers and returns to the sheet in front of him, biting into his lower lip as he rolls the chalk across and sketches the curves of your breasts. For a moment, he forgets what he is doing and narrows his eyes at the shapes in front of him before he smudges the black material across to shade in the skin. He looks back and forth for a couple of minutes until he’s happy with the shading of your body.

You marvel at how he’s managing to keep it together for this long when all you can think about is begging for him to fuck you into the mattress. You thought it would be easy for him to break but ever the gentleman, he takes the task seriously and tries his hardest to not dwell on your skin for longer than necessary.

A thought comes through your mind and you smile to yourself as you shift your bent leg to the side and move the other one until it falls from the side of the bed. You stare at him and hope this is what finally does the trick. And you don’t have to wait for too long because the next time Marcus looks at you, he takes a double-take and doesn’t bother to hide how he’s only focusing on the skin between your thighs.

“I thought it would be easier for you, you know. Easier access and everything.” You’re not sure what you’re going on about but you can tell that it’s taking every ounce of control in his body to not pounce on you. You hold your breath when Marcus stands up and meets your eyes, and you think this is it. This is the moment you’ve been waiting for.

But then he’s freeing the paper from the easel and moving towards you, his expression never once giving his plan away. You gulp when he kneels at the foot of your bed and sets the paper between your thighs.

“You’re right, easier access,” Marcus says as he brings the chalk down on the paper and sketches your thighs, not bothering for propriety as his eyes zero in on your slit. You know you’re wet and you can feel slick easing down your folds but you don’t move a muscle, watching him as he expertly outlines your skin before he rubs the chalk with his thumb to shade the area again.

“It’s not quite how I want it…” His remark makes you shiver and you’re about to beg him to forgo the sketch when he leans forward and nudges your legs apart, perhaps a little carelessly, before he collects your arousal with his middle finger and swipes it across your folds. You’re shocked by the turn of events and barely hold back from moaning as he dips the clean finger into your pussy and rubs your walls for a few more seconds, his soft brown eyes turning dangerous as pushes his finger a little deeper and bites his lower lip when he feels you clenching around him. Marcus turns his attention back to you, his jaw tensing when he sees sheer bliss etched on your expression. Your little gasps are music to his ears and just as he feels your hips moving against him, he pulls his hand away.

You watch him like a hawk as he inspects his finger, gasping when he smudges at the chalk on the sketch to create darker shades around your center.

“Hmm, that’s more like it.” Marcus turns to you and smirks when he sees your parted lips turn into a frown.

“Do you not like it?” He feigns ignorance and raises an eyebrow when your frown deepens as you move back into your pillows. You lean back but continue to hold his gaze as you part your thighs and lazily stroke your cunt. Marcus slowly puts down the paper and chalk onto the floor and stands up just as you begin to pinch your nipples.

“Please…” Your whispered plea shoots straight to his cock and he laughs when it turns into a whine once he makes his way to the bathroom in your room. He says nothing as he quickly washes his hands and dries them before moving back and standing next to your bed.

You don’t stop touching yourself, hoping the needy sight of you is all the push he needs to take what he wants.

“What’s your safeword doctor?” Marcus keeps his hands in his pockets as he trails his eyes down your shivering body. He’s itching to touch you but he remains still and waits for confirmation that you do, in fact, want this as much as him. A part of him knows that the two of you should probably slow down and perhaps discuss whatever this is before you go any further. But it feels right being here with you. And he doesn’t want to give it up just yet.

“J-Jasper.” Your voice breaks when you see the hunger swimming in his eyes and you shift to the center of your bed as Marcus kicks off his shoes before taking off his socks.

“Hmm.” Marcus hums as he takes off the holster from his belt and quietly places the gun on your nightstand. When he turns back and sees you watching the gun and increasing your movements, he groans down at you before walking around the bed.

“Maybe another time baby...when you and I are a little more acquainted with each other.” You flush at the implications behind his words and nod at him. You watch as he begins to roll up his sleeves and your anticipation grows with each inch of skin he reveals.

“You look so pretty sweetheart, all needy and desperate for my touch. Do you want to cum baby?” Marcus asks teasingly and you nod frantically as you begin to push two fingers into your cunt.

“Nuh uh, use your words. I’ll let it go this time but from now on, you use your words if you want something from me.” His tone is less gentle and your inner walls spasm at the thought of hearing that same commanding voice telling you to get on your knees for him.

“S-sorry yes...yes please. I- I want to cum, please.” Marcus smiles in amusement as he steps closer to the bed until his knees touch the mattress.

“Good girl. Now, if you really want to cum, then you better come here and suck me off. Be a good girl for me and show me what that sweet fucking mouth of yours can do.” His chest puffs out proudly when he sees how quickly you’re moving to please him. You lay on your stomach and palm him through his pants, moaning along with him when you find him hard and ready for you.

“May I undress you?”

“Go on sweetheart, take what you want.” Marcus caresses your cheek as you excitedly unbuckle his belt and unzip his pants. He doesn’t dare look away as you shove his pants down his thighs before leaning forward and nuzzling your nose into the bulge of his boxer briefs.

“Fuck baby, are you trying to kill me?” You giggle and shake your head in response, purposely rubbing his length with your nose just before you feel his fingers combing through your hair and tugging on it.

“Remember sweetheart...bad girls don’t get to cum. Stop your teasing before I shove my cock down your throat.” Marcus pulls on your hair harshly and groans when he sees you smiling up at him.

“Is that a promise Agent Pike?” You know you’re pushing his buttons and don’t hold back from gasping his name as he rolls you onto your back and aggressively pushes his boxer briefs down far enough to free his cock. He’s not really a vain man but seeing you lick your lips and inch closer to him as you stare at his hard dick makes him just a little cocky.

“Go on baby, open your mouth. Part those pretty fucking lips for me.” Marcus pats your lips softly and shivers when you respond to him right before you shut your eyes and wait for him to give you his cock.

“Yes sir.”

His knees buckle for a second the moment you take his tip into your mouth and suck on it. Marcus is torn between throwing his head back to enjoy the softness of your mouth and keeping his eyes on you as you suck on his cock. He leans forward and bites his cheek when you relax your throat and take more of his cock down your throat.

“P-part your legs for me baby please. Let me- oh fuck, your mouth is made of magic sweetheart. Let me- let me see how wet that pretty cunt is.” Marcus is already breathing heavily and he furrows his eyebrows in focus, not wanting to end this night early. You swallow around him a few times and hum when you feel his hand cupping your breasts while the other rests around your throat.

Taking a deep breath through your nose, you try to take him down as deep as possible just as you part your thighs and begin to play with your pussy. Marcus groans and swears above you as you work him expertly and he can’t hold back from pushing the palm of his hand a little harder on your throat. He can feel his cock passing across your pharynx and moans your name over and over again when he looks down and sees drool rolling down your cheeks.

“Ahh fuck oh god, s-sweetheart you’re a fucking dream. W-where have you been all my life?” Marcus continues to kneed at your tits, but when he gets a little irritated when he sees your fingers rubbing your clit. Without warning, he leans forward as far as he can and slaps your hand away, replacing it with his own and biting his cheek when he finds you soaking.

“Shit baby, you’re so wet. Is this all for me?” You hum around him and twitch in surprise when you feel two of his thick fingers pushing past your wet folds and into your cunt. You’re already so close to coming from his teasing and you whimper when he nudges your thighs apart aggressively.

“Keep those legs open for me baby. Shit, the smell of you is fucking intoxicating. Fuck, that it’s, get on your hands and knees for me.” Marcus moves away and silences you with one look when you start to whine and reach for his cock.

“Unless you want to call it a night, you’ll get on your fucking hands and knees for me. Shit baby I’ve wanted to shove my tongue in that pussy as soon as you stripped for me.” He never breaks eye contact as he kicks away his pants and briefs before he makes quick work of his shirt. You quickly turn around and bite into your wrist as you get on all fours and try to look at him through your elbow. You reach down and ease two fingers into your cunt as you take in his broad shoulders and lean form. You swear his muscles flex the longer you stare at him and when you finally look at him, you’re a little embarrassed at being caught openly ogling him.

“Look at you, like a bitch in heat.” Regret rolls off of him as soon as he registers what he just said. An apology is on the tip of his tongue but then you’re arching your back and shifting closer to him, giving him a show as you curve your knuckles to try and hit that sweet spot inside of you.

“Oh aren’t you the prettiest sweetheart in the world.” You moan his name when he caresses your back and kneels behind you, laying soft kisses across your back as he palms and lightly smacks your ass. Marcus removes your hand away slowly but not before licking your fingers and humming around them as the taste of you fills his mouth.

“Marcus please...I- I need you inside me.”

“What do you need from me? You want my tongue and fingers? Or do you think this cunt is ready to take my cock?” Marcus nips at your skin and pushes a hand on your lower back when you try and move away from him.

“W-whatever you want...just- need to feel you inside me. I don’t care, please. Oh fuck...please.” You squeal when Marcus spreads your cheeks apart and spits on your slit right before licking across your cunt. You fist your hands into the sheets and bite down on your wrist when you feel his nose nudge at your entrance as his tongue flicks your engorged clit.

“Good answer sweetheart,” you hear him whisper just as he kisses across your folds and dips his tongue into your core. You’re already shaking with need and rock back against him, hoping he’d end your agony and give you his fingers as well. Marcus is losing his mind and he tries his hardest to focus on pleasuring you. But it’s so hard to hold back when you’re whimpering at his touch and shoving your pussy in his face to get more friction.

“Stop moving,” Marcus growls against you, and you cry out his name when his palms land on your ass cheeks three consecutive times before he rubs the reddening skin.

“Oh god, your tongue feels so good Marcus. D-don’t stop, please. I want to cum, l-let me cum. You’re so fucking- ahh s-shit.” You think you feel him smile against you as he pushes two fingers into your pussy but you can’t be sure because you suddenly feel full. Fuck, and it’s only his fingers.

“Jesus Christ sweetheart, you’re so fucking tight. Can’t wait to feel you around my cock.” He slowly parts you with his fingers and groans when he feels you squeezing his fingers. When you try to move against him again, Marcus slithers his hand across your back and grabs your neck, pushing your face into the bed as he leans over to whisper in your ears.

“You’re being such a bad girl tonight. I won’t give you another warning baby. Move again and I won’t fuck you.” You shiver when you hear his hoarse voice on your ears, grasping the pillows as hard as you can when he pushes his fingers as deep as possible and curls his knuckles.

“N-no please...I’m s-sorry- ahh gahd I’ll stop. I’ll stop.” Marcus is pleased with the effect he’s clearly having on you and almost gives in. But he wants you to cum before he takes you. From the looks of it, you aren’t looking for anything gentle, and with how hard he is, has been for the entire day, he doesn’t have the self-control to be anything but rough.

“Good girl...sweet fucking girl.” You force yourself to remain immobile as you feel him reaching deeper and applying more pressure on your spongy walls. The hand on your neck moves to your back and massages your heated skin. It takes you a while to realize that he’s reenacting the paintings in your living room and the thought shakes you to your core. Before you can even warn him, you feel a familiar pressure growing in the depths of your stomach and your heart hammers in your chest as you lose yourself to the sudden swelling sensation. You gasp his name over and over again as you cum around his fingers, and Marcus fists his hand in your hair when he feels you shuddering beneath him.

He’s shocked at how quickly you unravel at his ministrations and he doesn’t look away as he brushes his thumb against your clit and watches your body fight to not move away from him.

“M-Marcus wait- I...too much.” You can barely form a coherent sentence, let alone a thought, and you bite into the sheets when you feel his scruff scratch your skin deliciously as he licks off your juices.

“Use your safeword sweetheart and I’ll stop. But you came without asking so now I have to punish you...fuck, you taste as good as you smell baby, shit, maybe even better.” Marcus slows down but continues to move his digits across your tightening walls and when you say nothing, he sits up and twists his hand, waiting for your breathing to slow down before he begins to fuck you with his fingers.

“Oh oh f-fuck I- Marcus M-Marcus oh god...yes please fuck ahh I- I’m…” You try to warn him but he doesn’t slow down once, continuing his assault on your abused cunt until he feels you tightening around him again.

“Beg!”

“Can I- oh god, can I cum? Please fuck, I- I can’t s-stah ahh fuck.” You reach around and dig your nails into the hand fisting in your hair. You try to warn him again of what’s about to happen but he doesn’t give you a chance, picking up the pace just as he curves his digits and rubs at your sensitive spot.

“Drench me baby.” It’s all you need to fall over the edge again and your vision whites out as you convulse around him. Marcus smiles proudly when you listen to his command but his expression changes to one of awe when he feels you gush around his hand and wet his arm and thighs. He doesn’t stop once, completely captivated by the sight of your juices flowing around him so easily. When you try to move up the bed, Marcus lets go of your neck and pushes down on your lower back to keep you still. The damp spot beneath you is growing and something primal takes over Marcus. He wants nothing more than to soak the entire bed.

But he snaps out of his haze when you cry out his name and beg him to slow down. He looks at you as he gradually comes to a halt but keeps his fingers in your pussy. Marcus massages your muscles as he eases his wet fingers out of you and carefully maneuvers you until you’re laying on your back. You hiss at the sudden feeling of emptiness and almost jump away when you feel his tongue passing across the skin of your thighs. When you finally have enough mind to look at him, you’re taken aback by the sheer bliss written on his face as he closes his eyes and cleans you up. Your eyes widen in horror and embarrassment when you look at his glistening skin and you call for him shyly to grab his attention.

“I-I’m so sorry...I- I’ve never-”

“Don’t you dare apologize. That was the prettiest thing I’ve ever seen and the fact that I’m the first to make you squirt...best feedback I’ve ever gotten.” Marcus cuts you off as he licks at his forearm and fingers before he sits up behind you. You find his gaze much more intense than before and you hide behind your arm to avoid it.

“Marcus, stop.” He laughs at your sudden shyness and leans over to pull your arms away from your face.

“Please baby, don’t hide from me. Please.” You feel exposed underneath him and it’s a stupid thought considering what the two of you have been doing so far. But something about the way he’s staring at you with those deep, brown, soulful eyes makes you want to hide under the sheets. But instead, you take his hand and pull him close until he’s flush against you.

“K-kiss me.” You watch as his expression intensifies just as he leans forward and molds his lips with yours. You expected him to be rough but the way he parts his lips and allows you access to his mouth leaves you breathless. His scruff and mustache heighten the sensation and you instantly shove your tongue in his mouth when he melts against you. You hum when you finally taste yourself on his tongue and Marcus growls as the kiss grows more desperate. Just as you run out of breath, Marcus pulls away and holds back from smiling when you chase after him.

“Sweetheart, c-can I have you?” You’re amazed by how he’s still asking you if you want to do this even after the events of the past hour or so.

“Yes, please.” You respond as you push him off to resume your previous position again. Marcus feels his cock harden at the sight of you on your knees for him. But the moment shatters into a million pieces when he looks down and realizes that he doesn’t have any condoms.

“Fuck.” He hisses and begins to move away when he feels your hands reach for his thighs to stop him.

“What? What is it?”

“I- I didn’t think this would...I don’t have any condoms baby.” You stare at him for a few seconds before you break the silence and hope he doesn’t think any less of you. “I was tested after the last time and I’m clear. A-are you?” Marcus pins you with his eyes as he nods along. “I’m clean too...and, it’s been a while.” He hates to admit that last bit but he wants you to know that this, whatever it is, is serious.

“Same.” Your answer surprises him and he’s about to ask how that’s possible but forgets the question when you shift closer to him and dig your nails into his thighs to grab his attention.

“Fuck me.” The vulgar request sounds so pure rolling off of your tongue and Marcus pushes your knees wide open and settles between them. You continue to stare at him with hunger in your eyes as he strokes his cock a few times before he slides it across your wet slit. You’re already so sensitive from earlier but you can’t care less because you’ve only wanted to feel him inside you for the better half of the day. Marcus bites his lower lip and grasps your hips with one hand as he positions himself against your entrance and slowly pushes past your wet folds. He feels your walls already clenching around him and he hesitates for a moment as he moves his hands across your back to try and get you to loosen up.

“F-fuck...relax sweetheart. Relax for me please. I- I don’t- oh god, h-how are you this tight?” Your walls flutter around him when his hoarse, almost pained voice sounds through the room. “You’re doing so good baby, taking my cock in that pretty little cunt. Fuck, that’s it. Let me in sweetheart...could make you feel so good. Shit, that’s it.” Marcus cooes above you as he feels you slowly sucking him in. You sigh heavily when he finally sheathes himself completely inside you and it’s not until a few moments later that you realize he hasn’t moved a muscle.

“Marcus, m-move. Fuck, just- move.” Your impatient groans make him twitch inside you and the two of you hiss when his hips jut forward at your gasped requests. His hands hold onto you a little harshly, squeezing the skin of your hips and making you giddy at the thought of seeing those bruises the following day.

“Just wait...please baby I- I don’t want to hurt you. You feel so fucking good around me and- and I...oh fuck, f-fuck...squeezing the shit out of me. Please I-”

“Fuck. Me.” You turn your head around enough to look at him and find the sight of his sweaty forehead and furrowed eyebrows intoxicating. He can sense your eyes on him and reluctantly looks down at you when you pronounce those two words, watching as you pierce him with a harsh gaze as you roll your hips against him.

“I- are you…”

“Fucking please...take what you want.” The desperate tone of your voice breaks him and he pulls away until the tip of his cock is nudged in between your folds before he snaps his hips forward aggressively.

You shut your eyes and cry into your pillows as Marcus lets go and pounds into you. He’s no longer trying to hold back and you feel proud of the effect you have on him. Thinking back to the past hour, you realize that Marcus was going out of his way to control himself and not hurt you. But with every brush of his cock against your inner walls, with every groaned swear word and whispered affirmation, you can’t help but beg for him to fuck you harder. To take you like a crazed man. Because now that you’ve had a taste of what he’s capable of, you don’t want him to ease up on you.

“Shit baby, you’re perfect. Fucking perfect. Your cunt is begging for my cock sweetheart. Can you feel how deep I am? How deep this tight pussy is sucking me in?” Marcus nudges your knees a little farther apart as he plunges into you over and over again. You’re a moaning mess beneath him and as you try to reach back to hold onto his hands, Marcus lets go of your hips and grabs your wrists, using them as leverage to fuck you deeper.

You scream his name as his thrusts become relentless, the resonating sound of skin against skin reminding you of how sore you were going to feel for the rest of the week. You can’t really pay attention to what he’s saying anymore, choosing to focus on the way his dick fills you up completely and hits your special spot with precision. The thought of knowing that you’re at this man’s mercy and that he’s using you like he owns you makes you shudder and Marcus doesn’t realize you’re coming around him until he feels a pressure push out of you. He looks down and watches your cunt gushes on his cock and thighs again, the sight somehow even prettier the second time than the first.

He waits until you’re no longer convulsing in his arms before he thrusts his cock back into your pussy. Marcus leans down and wraps his arms around your front to bring you flush against his chest. Marcus brushes your hair aside and nuzzles into your neck as he begins to roll his hips against your ass, trying to drive his cock into you even further without hurting you. You reach around and pull on his hair when he bites on the juncture of your neck.

“You’re amazing, sweetheart.” The confession feels more intimate than anything he’s said to you thus far and you throw your head back and smile when his hands roam your front and settle on your navel.

“Marcus...please.”

“What do you need, baby? I’ll give you anything. Tell me...oh god, I- I’m so close.” Marcus kisses across your shoulder as one hand cups your breasts while the other descends to your clit. He feels you convulse around him but he doesn’t move his hand away, wanting to feel you cum one last time around his cock.

“I- I need you to cum for me...cum inside me. Fill me up baby...wanna feel you so deep inside me. Make a mess of my cunt. Please.”

“C-can you give me another?” He’s breathless, his pace faltering when he feels your walls squeeze around him tightly with every pass of his cock against your heated core.

‘I- I don’t think I can...too much baby.”

“Please, for me. Cum for me o-one last time...oh god, I’m close sweetheart. B-but I wanna cum with you. Please oh fuck- oh god, I- I’m fucking coming.” He growls into the crook of your neck as he rubs at your clit harshly, crying your name like a prayer as he feels you milk him dry. His thrusts are desperate and you pull on his hair harder than you intend when you feel his cum fill you up. Marcus can barely breathe as he shoots his seed deep in your pussy and feels you pulse around him. He continues to buck against you, the caveman mindset telling him to breed you and fill you up until you can’t take it anymore.

He stays motionless for a few minutes before he finally registers that you probably need to rest. As carefully as possible, Marcus pulls out and cradles your body against him as he lays you on your back. He looks down at you and smiles when he sees the mess he’s made between your thighs. He tries to get off the bed to bring you a cup of water and grab a wet towel when you reach out and pull him by his wrist.

“I need to clean you up sweetheart.” He tries to reason with you but you shake your head and pull harder on his hand so he could sit next to you.

“No just- come here. I need you. Please.” Marcus doesn’t have to be told twice. He lays down next to you and kisses your forehead when you cuddle into his arms. He draws circles on your shoulder and back when he feels your fingers play with his chest hair.

“Are you alright baby?” Marcus asks and pulls his head back when you hum a soft ‘yes.’ He searches your expression for any sign of discomfort, and when he finds none, he rests his head back again and lets you explore his skin.

“Hmm...did you know that hair was used in some ancient spells to ensure that the desired outcome occurred?” You break the silence after a while and Marcus furrows his eyebrows at you when you look up from his chest and meet his face.

“Uhh should I be worried Y/N?” He asks almost immediately and laughs when you panic and try to retract what you just said.

“Oh god sorry that- I didn’t mean...Jesus, I still need to work on my bedside manner.”

“I was kidding sweetheart. I actually enjoy listening to people talking about their interests, it’s a little calming. And no, I didn’t know that. What kind of spells are we talking about here?” You’re surprised by his response but say nothing and continue to follow the soft trail of hairs down his chest.

“Well, there are lots of curses that didn’t need hair but it was better if they were added...for efficacy and such. But the most common spells that required little curls like these were love spells, which technically are also curses but it sounds better when you say that it’s just a spell.”

“Are you trying to tell me something doctor?” Marcus can’t help but tease you again and he snorts when you sit up on your elbow and try to justify what you just said. He pulls you back into his arms and brushes your hair aside to take a better look at you.

“Oh no no, I just- I tend to think about this stuff at random times. Sorry. I swear I’m too much of a wimp to actually try anything. You never know if the desired outcome has any side effects...”

“No need to apologize baby. Besides, I don’t think you’ll ever need love magic with me.” The admission is out before he can stop himself and he cringes at himself, hoping that you don’t misunderstand him.

“Oh yeah, and why is that Agent Pike?” The hint of amusement in your tone lets him know that you didn’t mind teasing him back and he blinks a few times at the ceiling before he turns to gaze into your eyes.

“Well, you’re doing fine on your own being this amazing human being. You’re mesmerizing when you’re lecturing, you’re confident in your skills and knowledge, your intelligence is- I’m sure I’ve only scratched the surface with the case today. And you’re the prettiest little thing I’ve ever seen...we could work a bit on your art choices but-”

“Hey!” You slap his shoulder and try to slither away from him but he’s too quick and wraps his arms around you before you can get off the bed.

“I’m kidding, I'm kidding...your art choices are the cherry on top.” Marcus nudges your nose with his and leans down to kiss you. He smiles when you moan beneath him. But the kiss is cut short when you push him away suddenly and narrow your eyes at him.

“You never told me how you knew which ones I commissioned.”

“Ugh no please, you’re going to think I’m a pervert.” Marcus falls back on the bed and tries to hide behind his arms.

“Oh yeah?” You slowly trail your hand down his stomach and wrap it around his cock. It’s all Marcus needs to lower his arm and look down to where you’re touching him. He shuts his eyes and lets his head fall back when you lean forward and nip at his jaw.

“B-baby fuck...oh god, please. I- I need a few more minutes and-”

“Tell me, please.” You cut him off with a bite to the shoulder, giggling when he thrusts up into your loose hold to get more friction.

“I- I was picturing the two of us...fuck, re-reenacting those scenes and those two jumped out more...more than the third.” He can barely speak through the haze you’ve put him in, and moans your name when you reach down and fondle his balls just as you whisper in his ears.

“How scandalous of you Agent Pike!”

“Sweetheart, please.” Marcus whines for you, the arm around your back pulling you flush to him and giving him perfect access to your breasts. He wraps his lips around one nipple and softly sucks on it as you continue to stroke his cock.

“Hmm, I like the sound of you begging...baby. Tell me, do you by any chance have your handcuffs on you?” The question catches him off guard, and he pulls away to look at you, finding a different kind of fire dancing behind your eyes.

“Fuck…I- uhh, they’re in the car. W-wait where are you going?” Marcus regrets his answer as soon as you let go of him and jump off of the bed. He watches as you run to the bathroom without answering him, only to return a few seconds later with bright red handcuffs clanking between your fingers.

“To get my own set Agent. Like you said, you and I need to get acquainted.” You unlock them as you walk back to the bed and straddle his thighs. Marcus looks at you with adoration and softly nods at you when you silently ask him if you could cuff him to the headboard of your bed.

“I’m yours sweetheart, take what you want.”

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@pastel-0-princess @feelmyroarrrr @libbymouse @its--fandom--darling @spideysimpossiblegirl @princess76179 @cheekygeek05 @miraclesoflove @purple-mango @freeshavocadoooo @metalarmsandmanbuns @acthenerd @greeneyedblondie44 @cannedsoupsucks @purplepascal042 @talesfromtheguild @f0rever15elf @vibin-hippie @onesmokinbabe @leaiorganas @words-way-of-life @kideyz @lovesickmadsadpoet @niall7inches @rosiefridayrogersunday @tati-adventures @sleep-tight1 @itsfreeekinbats @cybergroupie @vibin-hippie @marsplsstop @fan-of-encouragement @evelynseventyr

#marcus pike x reader #marcus pike/reader #marcus pike #marcus pike fanfiction #the mentalist #pedro pascal #yall don't understand how much I love this fucking character #he's literally the softest #and he deserves the world #ugh #anyway

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