#any reader

Living in “Normal People Valley” has always been very boring and ordinary. Life here has always made you feel like an extra in an old black and white film. 

It’s just been you and your father ever since mom left him 7 years ago. They had a little age gap and your mother just couldn't handle his judgemental and rude outlook on the world. So she waited until you were an adult to leave the house. She said “go to school, become something better than us and the people of this town, and then you can come move to the city with me if you’d like.” 

You were always the closest to her, especially being the only child in the house and your father being at work from 9-5. Then mom would work nights at the hospital an hour away to save up money to eventually leave the toxic household. 

At first it hurt but then you put yourself in her shoes and understood everything. You definitely felt her when she left because your father started having these angry outbursts and took it out on you. He wouldn’t hit you or anything ever but he would drink and lash out and say mean things. You don’t blame her for leaving at all.

Going to college three days a week was your solace and going to the library to study, reading books involving your major and even reading simple little fairytales. That was the real escape you had. With your parents never really being on the same page throughout your adolescence you yearned for a proper fairytale ending for yourself. 

Yes, those stories evolved as you grew older and older but the ending remained the same. All you wanted was for someone to sweep you off your feet, love and cherish you, and take you away from this stupid little town. 

You have fooled around with some boys in the past but they never gave you that feeling the princesses talked about in books or how your besties would talk to you about the guys they just met while talking to you on the phone. 

Today was a self-care day. You studied at a cafe, thrifted some new henleys and jeans for the fall season and some new books and old films. You got off the bus fifteen minutes ago and were a couple houses down from your own, it's 4:45 so your dad should be on his way home soon but as you walk more you notice his car is in the driveway already. “Weird…” You think to yourself. 

You take your keys out and unlock the door, drop your bags down and take your shoes off while locking the door. “Dad? I'm home, you got off early?” There’s shuffling coming from the kitchen so you walk over.

He was standing over the island and vigorously carving a big wooden stake. 

“Dad what the fuck?!” You run towards him while waving your arms around trying to get him out of the little trance he was in. “HELLLLOOOOOOO!”

He cursed under his breath and looked up at you, his beady eyes widening. “I was in the middle of somethin’ sweetheart,” his words slurring slightly.

You’re standing in front of him in absolute disbelief. “Are ya starring in a play or something? Why is there a huge wooden stake in the kitchen?! D-Did you even leave the house today?!” 

As you’re rambling on with more questions your father is washing wood dust off his hands by the sink. “Sit down, we need to have a talk,” completely ignoring any questions you’ve asked him. You sit down in one of the dining room chairs with a huff. 

“What is it this time dad?,” you say with a sigh. You kept thinking to yourself, “Oh he’s gonna blame you for something that happened during his campaign” or something along the lines of “I told ya, ya can’t call ya mom anymore.” Blah blah blah. That’s all it is these days. He sounded like a broken record.

Your dad sat down across from you with a tired sigh. “I needa ask ya somethin’ and ya need to tell the truth, ya hear?” You nodded slowly while giving a side eye.

“What do ya know about the guy who lives in the big spooky house at the edge of town?” He said with the most serious expression. You leaned back and gave it some thought. While buying groceries you’ve heard some of the moms saying their children have been playing near the huge home but nothing about the man who owns it… 

Since you graduated you started baking again, before college it was one of your favorite hobbies. Now since you’re home more, you bake a new recipe at least once a week you’ve been going door-door delivering sweets. Some of the kids tell you about the scary stories they tell when they play near the house at the edge of town but again never about the mystery man… Now you’re cursing yourself for being too lazy and not hand delivering cookies to the estate yourself. You could get some real answers to your own questions.

All in all though, you never really minded the creepy house. It was a wreck ever since you’ve lived here but it got fixed up by the time you were in your junior year of college. You admired the gothic architecture from afar, always too busy and very shy to go up close and examine it. It also felt very intrusive, like that’s someone’s home ya know?

“I haven’t heard anything about the man… why?” You lean forward. He looks around as if someone else could be listening but it’s just the two of you…

“He’s makin a bad impression on the youngins so… me and some othas are gonna march up there and make him leave.” He said again, with a straight face. You couldn’t help but scoff. God, he was so hyperfixated on mom leaving, so he took it out on you, started drinking, did some overtime at work, and now he’s obsessed with some guy that lives secluded from everybody else. Mind you, no one’s seen him except for the kids (maybe). 

“Dad thats fuckin ridiculous are you serious?” you said while standing up.  “Do you hear how crazy you sound? And who else is going to ‘march’ on over to someone’s house UNINVITED?” You continued to angrily ramble on while he pretended to listen. 

He stood up as well now and looked at me. “Kelly, Susie, Norman, Randall, Billy, Veronica and all their kids are comin and some others. We’re gonna meet up in townsquare in two days at 8 p.m. ya can come with us if ya care about the well bein of your home.” You couldn’t help but roll your eyes at him.

“Why are you gettin the children involved dad? This man hasn't done anythin wrong…” You started pacing back and forth. 

He leaned against the counter and sighed. “Ya just know when someone is gonna messup and the mothers are sayin their children won’t stop talkin’ about this guy, he calls himself the maestro. That just sounds like a freak that needs to be stopped. So be there or don’t I don’t care. Imma order takeout for dinner.” Then he just walked away without another word.

You put your head in your hands and just sighed. What is happening? It feels like today was the most you heard of this man and now everyone wants to interrupt his peace for… no reason whatsoever. 

It’s been hours since that conversation, you ate dinner, took a nice long shower, read some of your book and now you’re laid back in bed staring up at the ceiling. You couldn’t shake this odd feeling since that discussion with your father. The maestro… I wonder if the man really calls himself that or maybe if it's just to entertain the kids? You hope so. It was at that moment you realized you’re becoming just as obsessed as these other losers. But it isn't in the weird and borderline prejudiced way they are. It’s more of a fascination, you don’t even know what he looks like but you didn’t care you felt this invisible pull towards the direction of the house. 

Sighing you turned over on your left side and finally closed your eyes and decided you would be joining those dimwitted fools on their soul quest in two days time. 

𝒯𝓌𝑜 𝒹𝒶𝓎𝓈 𝓁𝒶𝓉𝑒𝓇

The day is winding down. You just had dinner with a friend who’s been out of town and now you’re sitting at your vanity in your candlelit room. You don’t know why you’re stressing so much over what you want to wear to… potentially break into someone’s house. To be honest this all seems like bluff from your father you do not think he actually has it in him but also you don't really know now. 

Anyways you stand up now to look at the options you’ve laid out on your bed to wear out. You laugh to yourself because this feels like you’re planning an outfit for a date. 

Your eyes keep drifting to a top you recently purchased two days ago at a salvation army almost an hour away from town. That’s where all the good clothes are around here. “Fuck it…” you curse to yourself, if you’re going to potentially get arrested tonight with all the beige moms in your town you might as well look good.

This top you’re choosing is a black satin material with a deep purple lace trim with other little lace details and two thin straps to tie around the back. You decided to wear jeans and boots because the fall chill is stronger at night. You’re so nervous but you can’t let anyone, especially your father know that.

The clock in your room reads 7:50 p.m. so you try to shake off as many nerves as you can and finally go downstairs. 

You and your father walk silently side by side together to town square. You can already hear the chatter of the concerned community of everyone before you approach them. Rolling your eyes you decide not to interact or talk with any of them. Again you’re intrigued by the mystery man and his manor out of genuine interest not because you think he’s disgusting and weird.

The walk to the mansion was about ten minutes from town square. Your father led the group while you stayed in the middle, hanging and talking to the children because it seems only they have a true common sense of things. Some of the adults carried the homemade stakes, torches, and flashlights. You roll your eyes when one of the younger men asks if you want a torch, like what is this? It's 1996. Why are we traveling to a house with torches and stakes? 

The old dark mansion finally comes into view. You’ve never been so up close to it, only seeing glimpses from afar where it just looks like a really tall cardboard cutout. From here you can actually smell the wood the home was built from and maybe the scent of candles. 

As the group approaches the gate two of the kids speak up, “Why don’t we just leave him alone?” and “He hasn’t hurt anybody, can we just go?” You look at the two boys with sympathy as the sibling of one of the kids starts to bicker. 

 “He’s a weirdo, there’s no place in this town for weirdos.” Your dad whispers gruffly under his breath as if he had years of trauma caused by this one man he’s never even met face to face. You scoff for what feels like the one thousandth time tonight. Surely there’s a record for that.

Right when you were about to knock some sense into him to turn around, the gate creaks open by itself. It must’ve been the wind… right?

Everybody gasps quietly and Noman says “t-that’s aint a good sound…” Dad ignores him and starts walking onto the estate. As we walked to the front door those doors opened on their own as well which was odd but nobody was commenting on it. 

The double doors had stained glass windows with a beautiful cobweb design, you imagined what it would look like during the daytime with the sun out and rays of light pouring onto the dark brown wooden floor. 

The doors closing behind us took you out of your trance as we all looked around to see if someone closed them but… no one was there. One of the neighbors tried to open the door but it wouldn't budge. Suddenly there were multiple cracks of thunder and gushes of wind coming at us from every direction though all the doors and windows were shut.

After that died down your father walked forward slowly with a straight face, he didn't seem moved or scared at all with what just happened. We all hesitantly and slowly followed him down the hallway, boxes were stacked on one another with dust and spiderwebs decorating them. 

The open doors we were walking towards to continue our trespassing journey closed on their own so we opted to go to the other open doors to our left. 

These doors opened for us and were guarded by two statues of knights with armor. The doors revealed a beautiful ballroom with black and white checkered floors, the white detailing was being illuminated by the moonlight shining through the tall windows, along with at least four chandeliers and there was a big fireplace warming the area as we stepped inside. 

The ballroom was pretty much the size of one football field. It was one of the most majestic sights your eyes have ever seen.

Before we could even reach the middle of the vast room some double doors to our right had opened and a crow flew down from our left and into the very dark entrance that was just revealed to us. 

Whispers from everyone and more cracks of thunder were all that could be heard. Your father started walking towards the doors slowly. The tail end of a black cloak could be seen blending in with the shadows of the dark space. We all watched in shock, mothers were holding their children, and grown men cowered in fear. Your father remained emotionless and you couldn’t move your palm from your mouth. 

With a crack of thunder and lightning the shadowed space was lit up for a split second and a tall figure, in a black cloak and what seemed to be a skull face, was revealed. Your dad led the group to inch closer and closer. Once we were almost to the entrance he halted everyone and ventured two inches in alone, then BAM a streak of lightning lit up the room and revealed the same figure again. Everyone moved back while gasping and screaming, including your father, as the cloaked figure stepped out of the shadows.

The mysterious figure revealed half of his face and you could see his smooth skin and the doe-like brown eyes you have ever seen. The black eyeliner adorning his waterline and eyelids fit so well it could’ve been natural. 

The children sighed in relief which took you out of your trance because some of your questions have been answered: the kids have seen the man who owns the manor.

He removed the skull mask completely, “did I scare ya?” you could finally move your hand away from your face and your jaw dropped just a tiny bit. This was the most beautiful man you have ever seen. 

Now, you are definitely deprived of any affection and touch from anyone of romantic or sexual interest. However no sense of depravity on your end can change the fact you needed him. Not even in a sexual way he just had the aura of an angel sky above.

Maybe it’s because the thunder suddenly stopped and the moonlight was casting an ethereal glow on the him. You snapped out of your trance again when the children started saying hello to him and you swear he tilted his head in your direction. Your posture suddenly becoming the straightest it’s ever been.

Then your father just had to speak, “well ya didn’t scare me, maybe ya scared them but ya didn’t scare me,” like oh my god!! nobody cares.

The gorgeous maestro nodded his head toward him and said, “well that’s too bad isn't it?” God, how can he get any more handsome? His perfect face scrunched up in this almost smug expression. You must be ovulating. 

“I guess I’ll have to try harder next time.” GULP. He walked to the side and your dad said, “there won’t be a next time.” While mr. good lookin placed the mask down, he smirked and replied with, “Oh Really, no next time huh?” He removed his cloak to reveal a white ruffled poet top that looked like it came from the victorian era. 

“We want ya outta town,” your dad hissed out. Well maybe he does but you certainly need him in town. He went on… “We have a nice normal town, normal people, normal kids, and we don' t need freaks like you tellin’ em ghost stories.” While your father said all those nasty things the maestro walked about the ballroom adjusting his sleeves. 

You tried to move to the back of the group to avoid being associated with your troll of a father. “So ya don’t believe in ghosts?” The maestro replied with. Some of the kids and adults said “I do!” and you nodded nonchalantly reeaaallll cool.

You coulda sworn he smirked and looked directly at you. Your mind is playing games on you. Susan, one of the mothers, points a finger at him. “You see what you’ve done? Aren’t you ashamed? Young people are impressionable.” You rolled your eyes. AGAIN.

“Show em the neat stuff ya showed us!” One of the kids said, then his little brother slapped him upside the head while his mother did it right back to him. Then there was a strong gust of wind that knocked her upside the head. You couldn’t help but stifle a giggle. She’s always had it comin. 

Everyone looked around with different expressions on their faces. Scared, confused, shocked and intrigued. You were very intrigued. 

“You’re weird, you’re strange, and I don't like you, and you’re scarin’ these kids. Livin up here all alone” Your dad speaks up again unfortunately.  

“I’m not alone,” the maestro says while nodding. “And you’re right I do like scarin’ people, yes. But it’s just for fun.” He smiles and for a second it warms your heart. 

“Don’t you kids enjoy when I do my little— ya know,” He twirls his hands around in the air. You look to see the children’s reactions and they’re all nodding and whispering “yes.” 

Your dad then whispers something you didn’t catch but the maestro did. “Back to the circus you freak,” He opened his mouth just a little and you could see the sadness in his eyes and it broke something within you. You had barely just met the man yet you were filled with so much sympathy for him already.

You pushed through the group to stand directly behind your father, you put a firm hand on his shoulder and told him to back off but he didn't listen and just continued on talking.

“And do yourself a favor… ok? Don’t force us to get rough with you, because we will if we have to.” This made you roll your eyes severely. Why would he even try that? 1. Your father is old as hell 2. He’s been drinking so often that he probably can’t throw a proper punch and 3. Take a look at this group. NO ONE is hurting a fly. 

Maybe except you but you’ll be throwin punches at your own flesh and blood. 

After your father boldly said that the others in the group collectively started backing away amd saying “pfft nooo we won’t” told ya so. 

The maestro finally spoke up again in that soft spoken voice of his. “You’re tryin to scare me aren’t you?” He says while giving your father a sideways glance. Then suddenly he un-scrunches his face and looks at him directly. You straighten your posture.

“I’ll tell ya what, we’ll play a game.” He raises his eyebrows and you raise yours. “Anybody here likes games?” He looks to the group currently cowering away. “HELLLOOOO,” he claps his hands together twice. “Game time!” The kids' expressions all widened at the words “game time.” 

You laughed to yourself, this whole situation seems so ridiculous but you haven't had any thoughts on leaving. It’s like something is compelling you to stay. 

“The first person that gets scared has to leave,” he points to the double doors behind us. “How about that?” he smiles. One of the mothers jumps and says that she’ll leave no problem. 

Your dad says he doesn’t play games with freaks, at this point you block him out. The maestro starts the game off with making silly faces making you and the children laugh gleefully. Your father and some of the other parents thought this was incredibly stupid and that the host was not taking this seriously.

A game that mind you, none of them wanted to play. It’s not supposed to be serious but theyre too dumb to see the point.

After enough rude bickering from both parties the maestro’s tone suddenly gets deeper and more serious, “Is this scary?” He then does something so unexpected and unhuman. He pulls his mouth apart and a huge tongue lols out and then he separates his jaw. It reminded you of one of the scenes from your favorite movie, “Beetlejuice.”

As soon as he did that the entire group gasped and screamed in terror. He then backed up and started snapping his fingers and yelling which caused large gusts of wind to swarm the ballroom and the fire in the hearth roared and grew taller. 

“By the way… did I say I was alone?”

Then suddenly something insane happened… many gray figures with ragged clothing appeared out of thin air… 

“Ghosts,” you whispered. So much was happening at once, the world around you was spinning, all you could hear were screams, and you had a chill down your spine.

“Meet the family.” The maestro said with a smirk and his arms were wide open. 

 Sometime after all the ghosts appeared and the wind settled down the maestro and his family started doing this interesting dance and everyone couldn’t stop watching. Whether it be in disgust, shock, or intrigue no one could look away. Including you.

While your gaze was stuck on the maestro dancing so gracefully in front of your eyes you didn’t realize you drifted away from your father, now standing aside the group but not too far.  

You felt a light tap on your shoulder. Your breath hitched and you turned oh so slowly, and what you saw surprised you. It was the maestro… but if he was dancing in front of you how was he—

“Shh come with me dear…” and with a quiet snap of his fingers you were both transported to another area of the mansion. You gasped and shook your head.

“What in the— how did you— huh?!” You were an embarrassing mess of confusion. He just stood back and smirked. 

“I’m a ghost darling. What you saw down there is another version of me, if you were to touch it, it would disappear into thin air. The one standing before you is the real solid version. My name is Michael by the way.” 

He extended his arm to shake your hand. His hands were silky smooth. You told him your name. 

“So you’re… dead?” You hesitantly asked Michael. He sighs but his smirk never wavers as he looks you up and down. 

“Yes I am technically not alive anymore. I died more than one hundred years ago however I have unfinished business here in the mortal world. I still have yet to know what that business is. Which is why I try to befriend as many children as I can to make them laugh and really lust for life.” He said all of this with a  smile on his face and you couldn’t help but smile softly too. 

“Would you like a house tour m’lady?’ You didn’t think your smile could get any bigger, you bit your lip and nodded. “I’d love nothing more Michael.”

As Michael gently took your hand in his he dragged you down the candle lit hallway showing you each room. He had a room for almost everything. He had a room for trinkets, instruments, two separate dining rooms, a drawing room, a room with all of his cute exotic pets, and a library the size of two football fields.

He even told you how he died. Michael used to be in the theatre when he was younger, then as he got older he started writing and directing plays and musicals.

So one night while rehearsing a number for his upcoming musical there was a chandelier that had been put in the studio just a week prior, some of the light bulbs must’ve been screwed on incorrectly and while he was walking under it, multiple had popped off and his hair and majority of his scalp got burned off.

Unfortunately during the era this happened they couldn’t treat Michael properly for his injury so he survived for as long as could he before he unfortunately died in his sleep.

You guys paused the tour in the library. He told you to pick all the books that caught your eye. “Really?” he nodded and waved his hand. The library had the warmest lighting due to the generous amount of candles lit. 

While you picked through the endless bookshelves your mind was occupied with so many thoughts. Not about how the man in the room is technically dead but… how the entire time he walked you through his gorgeous home you guys had this remarkable spark. You clung onto every word he said to you, he would never break eye contact with you, and he looked at you as if you hung the moon and the stars.

You shake your head and decide you should actually read the backs of the books you're choosing because this can be the only chance in a lifetime. However as you bend down to look at the books on the lower shelves you feel a presence behind you. 

It’s him of course. The man who’s been plaguing your mind for days. “Find anything to your liking?” You look up at him through your eyelashes and nod. “Good, let's head to my study.”

He reaches for your free hand and helps you up from your crouched position. You blindly follow him out of the room with a dopey smile on your face. As he walked in front you could smell his cologne wafting at you or does he just naturally smell that good? Do ghosts have pheromones?

As you got lost in your thoughts you both halted in front of another pair of double doors. You thanked him as he held one of the doors open for you. This room was just as magnificent as the others. There was a small fireplace which made the space very warm and welcoming, an old-school record player was spinning some beautiful instrumental tunes, and when you turn around you see Michael leaning against the huge desk that adorns the middle of the study. 

 “So how are you liking my humble abode so far?” He asked you with a warm smile on his face. You sat down in the nearest chair facing Michael. “I love it! Gosh it’s so so beautiful I’ve always admired it from afar and that was just from the outside… I wanted to apologize again for the uh intrusion. My father and his crazy mind, I already told you about my mother and what that did to him but even I, as his daughter, can’t seem to forgive him for his actions…” 

You bowed your head in shame. You had ranted to Michael as soon as the tour started, wanting to reassure him you had no part in this idiocy of trying to kick out an innocent man from town you, had only come out of pure curiosity. He had hushed you quickly and reassured you that he understood completely. 

He moved one step forward to stand directly in front of you now. “You don’t need to say sorry to me again, do you understand me, love?” Michael used two of his fingers and brought them under your chin to gently guide your head upright again. “Ah, there’s those eyes,” he smirked at you and pinched your skin softly. “I like lookin in em’” 

Is he actually flirting with you? How late is it right now? You must be hallucinating, that's gotta be it. You’re the daughter of the asshole mayor, your father, of this stupid little town that hates Michael and Michael is flirting with you. 

You blush and almost turn away but you feel his fingers tighten slightly on your chin. “Michael…” He tilted his head with that teasing smirk and a twinkle in his eyes. “Yes?,” as if he didn’t know. 

“I— I dunno this just doesn’t seem real to me there’s no way you… you,” before you can even finish your thought he moves away from you. Sitting in the chair next to yours. 

“Dove, I have a confession.” This raises your eyebrows. Since you’ve met him tonight he's confessed plenty of things so what's so different this time? “... Okay what is it Michael?” You try to say without stuttering. 

“Well the thing is… I’ve been watching you for a long time now. I know that sounds weird I know but the children were talkin’ bout how the sweet girl who bakes them desserts lived with the mean old mayor so I turned invisible and… observed you.” He went quiet while just staring at you with his big brown almost black eyes. He blushed but kept talking. 

“It started with a pure and innocent fascination. I just wanted to know what you looked like, sounded like, what your room looked liked and how you baked, and what all your favorite things are. I thought we’d have a lot in common with ya know lovin the kids and wanting to make them happy,” he smiled and you did too but then his smile kinda dropped. “Then… the fascination wasn’t so pure… I— started just hanging out with you in your room… without you knowing obviously again just curious. I’d listen to you gossip to your friends and I’ve watched you try on new clothes a-and I've watched… you.” 

You gasped. He doesn’t mean— 

“Yes I do mean that. I- I am ashamed I’m a disgusting man, a pervert, but I couldn’t stop you- you just looked so beautiful— heavenly and I’m sorry… you can leave if you want. I won’t be mad, I just couldn’t keep talking with you and not tell you.”

Michael, the maestro the fucking ghost. Has seen you masturbate. Great, that's wonderful even. You felt a little violated but only for a split second, because the other part of you… some sick sick part of you really liked the fact that he watched you. 

Before coming to the manor and even meeting Michael for some reason you always had this feeling you’d be attached to him in some way. Maybe you felt his presence all this time. So you rose up from the chair.

“Hey…” You softly graze his shoulder making him turn towards you. One of his large hands his covering half of his face. “It’s okay, I-I’ll forgive you under one condition…” He removed his hand and looked into your eyes with hope. You placed both of your hands on his broad shoulders and sat him back down onto the chair. 

Then you sat up on the huge desk behind you and spread your legs. 

“You watch me again… while I can see you.” You’re both blushing profusely. 

“I- you can’t be serious,” he stutters and you smirk. “Oh but I am. You weren’t afraid to watch me while I was touching myself all alone in bed, but now I want you to watch me again, now. Take it or leave it Michael.”

It was so amusing to watch how shy he got. He was so charismatic while entertaining the others downstairs and talking to you so confidently while giving you the house tour. But now he’s reduced to a little mess and you hope to see more of that real soon… if he agrees to this proposition of course. 

You were about to apologize and jump out of the window before you heard it. A tiny sound that came from under Michael’s palm, a whimper. At first you thought you brought him to tears but you examined him further—  

His face was a cute shade of pink and some sweat dribbled down his temple and dripped down his wickedly sharp jaw. 

“Aw what was that Michael? Hm? You want it that bad huh?” Truly you don’t know where this boldness came from. You aren’t a virgin but you definitely don't have enough under you belt to be acting this way. You guess Michael brings it out of you.

He nodded and removed his hand, his lip looked swollen from him biting it. “Mhm please I— 

I need it. I wanna see ya so bad in the light.” He rambled on. While he was preoccupied you slowly started undressing yourself.

By the time Michael was finished he looked back to you and sucked in a breath. You were only in your bra and panties now. The warm candle light accentuating all your features and making your skin look like it was glowing. Michael never became harder so fast in his mortal or ghost life. 

“You’re beautiful,” he blurted out and you giggled. He eagerly stood in between your legs and right when he was about to touch your thighs you stopped him. Your sock clad foot on the center of his chest. 

“Hmm I said watch remember? Or did you forget already?” You said in a teasing tone with no real bite to it.

He whimpered oh so deliciously again and sat his ass down. You smiled and stifled a giggle. Suddenly you grow a little nervous. You didn’t think any of this though you just thought with your pussy. Which is embarrassingly wet. 

So instead of risking this becoming awkward you didn’t speak and just started sensually stroking your sides and right above the waistband of your panties. Thank god they’re not an ugly pair, just a simple black pair with a lace trim. 

You used one of your hands to slowly rub yourself through the damp material, biting your lip. Michael mirroring your expression. 

Whimpering you finally moved your panties to the side and you're met with crazy amounts of slick practically pouring out of your hole. You can hear Michael groaning in his palm and the sound of him wrestling his belt with the other hand. 

You’ve never been this far gone while masturbating alone, only doing it when you can’t sleep or you’re ovulating. Your middle and pointer finger curling into your pussy making you almost howl as you arch off the desk. 

Michael has always been a very very patient man but right now he was about to lose it. 

“D-Darling please please let me touch you— let me make you feel good baby I-I need it I need to please—” He rambled but he didn’t miss your little nod as you pulled your fingers out. Michael moved at the speed of light, pushing you up further on the desk so he can sit on top of it with you. He knelt beside you he took your two slicked fingers with his left hand and brought them up to his plump lips and sucked. He moaned borderline pornographically while sucking your cream off your fingers he took his right hand and immediately picked up where you left off and shoved two long fingers into you without warning.  

“Oh Michael— fuck! D-Don’t stop please,” you moaned and begged for him. “Mmm you taste better than I imagined honey,” Michael cooed in your ear as he took his other hand and massaged one of your tits. 

His fingers reached spots you could never hit no matter how much you tried. You arched up so much you thought you were gonna fly off the fucking desk. 

“Mmm baby m’so close—” Apparently that admission made Michael stop immediately. You would kill him right now if he weren’t already dead. Before you were about to curse him out for eternity he kissed you. You melted into the kiss and moaned as he sucked on your tongue softly. 

“Honey I really need ya to come in my mouth, is that alright?” You never nodded so fast.  Michael then ripped your panties off your body but you couldn’t care less at the damage that’s been done, just needing his mouth on you.

Michael melted between your legs, wasting absolutely zero time before burying his face into your cunt. He ate you out with sudden, sloppy confidence sucking your clit, dragging his tongue through your folds, and fucking you with his tongue until your legs were shaking violently. He worshiped you completely, swallowing every noise and whine you made like he was starving.

Your thighs locked around his head, pressing his face deeper into your folds as you practically rode his face. You were already so close to an orgasm before. He sucked your clit hard, tongue working frantically while you came undone, your head knocking gently against the desk. Michael groaned against you, the vibration pushing you through your orgasm as you clutched at his hair, chanting his name over and over again.

He continued and overstimulated him until you tugged on his hair hard, he finally pulled away. After Michael kissed all on your thighs and left some hickies there and on your stomach he finally laid back on the desk next to you panting.

“Wow, I think I’d be the first woman to ever say she came from a ghost.” You said still slightly out of breath. You can’t believe this just happened and to think that was only from his hands and mouth alone. Your pussy got wetter just thinking about what his dick would feel like— 

You look Michael up and down and when you expect to see a bulge in his pants you see a big dark stain on the front of his trousers. Before you can utter a teasing comment his way he grips your thigh and says— “Not a word. I’ve been deprived of this for quite some time so give me a minute and I’ll be hard for you in no time. I suggest you rest while you can because I won’t get tired out very easily.” 

Gulp.

a/n: YAYYA YOU READ MY FIRST COMPLETED FIC SINCE LAST YEAR ILY... speaking of I'd like to apologize if you've been following me for a long time or you've asked to be tagged in an upcoming project/fic and I edged you every single time bc im a lazy pos IM SO SORRY DONT HATE MEEEE IM JUST A GIRL IN COLLEGE. but i truly love each and every single one of you and i hope to write more this summer and just more in general i just need to stop putting higher expectations on myself.

—sweetgirl out

He was wearing the same outfit you first saw him in, during Shibuya - his purple vest with a neckerchief of the same color, over his white robe and matching loose trousers. His clothes worked in and out of battle, not that any sorcerer ever had time to change when there was a sudden incident - jujutsu wasn't The Avengers.

His dark brown hair was secured in two pigtails, or ponytails, as always. The consistency only made you wonder what it looked like down and untied even more.

Dark eyes glanced into yours for a moment - the same straight, emotionless expression he wore - before flickering away, causing you to do the same.

The moment almost made you wince, but…maybe he looked at everyone that way?

Aside from Yuji, being Choso's newfound younger brother.

You carefully set the bag of takeout on the table, as well as the other bag of snacks. Yuji gasped, making you chuckle.

The brothers were sat on the couch. You'd never been in the common room before. It felt like the only part of Jujutsu High that was for teenagers, if it were a regular school.

"What's this?" asked Yuji.

"Ah, you both didn't come to dinner with us and I don't know if you already ate, but…" you trailed off, awkwardly. It felt odd to be so sheepish in front of your student, but you weren't sure how to act when his hot older brother was sat right there.

You weren't sure of the reason why they didn't go to dinner with you and the other sorcerers at Jujutsu Tech, but you couldn't help but wonder if Choso felt uncomfortable.

"You're the best, Sensei!" Yuji exclaimed, struggling to open the tightly secured knot of the takeout bag.

Choso gently took the bag from Yuji and effortlessly undid the knot for his brother.

"I was showing Choso around more and I found this room, I can't believe I've never been in here," Yuji added.

You weren't sure if Choso and Yuji went out together, or if Choso went out with the other sorcerers like Gojo, but not the gatherings where you were there.

You didn't want to assume it was you. But with the way he could barely stand to look at you, it was hard not to wonder if you were a reason.

"Neither have I. It's really warm in here too," you replied, looking around the room of beanbags and a few sparse bookshelves and cupboards.

"It is, but Choso's always cold," Yuji teased, lightly elbowing his brother, but Choso didn't respond.

So what if he didn't talk to you? You weren't exactly the most outgoing person either.

"Well," you began, trying to make your voice lighter like Yuji's, "I'll leave you both to it."

"Do you want some of this food, Sensei?" asked Yuji.

You shook your head immediately. "No, I'm really full from dinner."

"Alright, we'll eat it all," Yuji sing-songed, making you chuckle.

You wondered if Choso liked food here, if he'd like the food you bought or if he was the type to not care about the taste and just eat whatever. Or, if he hated it.

"Actually," you started, as you were about to turn around and leave. Yuji looked up as he took out the plastic containers from the bag, as did Choso. "Maybe I can treat you both to coffee soon? I feel bad that we went to dinner without you."

Both.

What were you thinking?

If it was just Yuji, you wouldn't be timid. You'd taken students out for treats before.

But when you were being watched by a man so…indescribable, it was difficult to act normal.

Perhaps it said a lot about how you acted around beautiful men, but Choso wasn't just any beautiful man - nor was it only about his looks.

You figured it would be a better invite if the only outsider was you, instead of all of the sorcerers, including the students.

"We'd love to!" Yuji exclaimed.

You forced yourself to avert your eyes, the same way Choso usually did, when Choso's lips slightly parted at Yuji's words of agreement.

He didn't like you, did he?

A few days later, you'd checked out a crime scene with Nanami, curses unfortunately behind it, before returning back to Jujutsu High. The paperwork you and him got through was a dragging process. Gojo was to take Yuji, Nobara and Megumi to have a look too.

What kept you motivated, yet the paperwork attempted to distract you with the anxiety, was the coffee "date" with Yuji and Choso later on.

It wasn't like Choso was going to do anything, the anxiety was not out of fear that he'd hurt you.

You were infatuated with the intimidation of his dark eyes, although the hard stare seemed reserved for only you. Delivering food to him and Yuji the other day just confirmed that you were intrigued by Choso, with the way you could not stop thinking about him.

It was ridiculous, since you could count the times you'd seen him on one hand. Meanwhile, the times you spoke to him equated to zero.

Perhaps you always felt this way deep down, ever since you saw him in Shibuya - even if he was on the side of the curses at first - and how you barely saw him afterwards.

You were a grown adult with a bordering-on-obsessive curiosity about a man that had no interest to even talk to you

Choso seemed off=limits.

Not only because he was Yuji's brother and you were Yuji's teacher, but Choso was half-human. You weren't sure how much he knew about society and how much he wanted to know, if he wanted to associate with another human outside of Yuji.

Yet, you wanted to know everything. You wanted to hear his deep voice that you thought you briefly heard in Shibuya, but it was so long ago and he was a fair distance from you that the sound faded from your brain. You wanted to know what his hair looked like out of ponytails.

You needed to pull yourself together, when he did not like you. You didn't think he hated the other sorcerors; he must have felt indifference.

Yuji and Choso were talking the other day, before you entered the common room, as you pressed your ear to the door. You wondered if he kept his answers short while the peach-haired boy yapped, or if he spoke back and forth with Yuji.

The copious amount of paperwork from the crime scene had been completed, as did the work day, dawning on you that it was nearly the time to meet up with Yuji and Choso for coffee. You'd arranged it with Yuji the day before, to which you said you'd be free after work today.

Stepping down the halls of Jujutsu High, you weren't sure about the living arrangements now that Choso was here. Maybe he had his own room? All you remembered was that Yuji lived in the room beside Megumi's, much to the dark-haired boy's dismal, and Yuji told you his door number.

You knocked on the door, waiting patiently.

What you did not expect, was for Choso to answer the door.

He wore a white kimono with matching loose trousers, slightly different to his usual outfit without the purple vest.

You must have looked like an idiot as he took you off-guard, stunning you into silence for a few seconds, before you snapped out of it. You were too shocked to feel the full impacts of embarrassment, but this moment would haunt you and keep you up at night later on.

"Hi," you breathed. You were unable to handle his eyes on you, as opposed to last time where he didn't want to look at you - so you were already off to a rough start. His expression was blank as usual, but he waited for you to finish. "Um…where is Yuji? We arranged for coffee at this time."

Immediate regret sunk in as soon as you asked the question. It seemed like you only wanted to go for coffee with just Yuji, but honestly, you weren't sure if Choso wanted to go - but it did't mean you opted him out, hence why you invited them both.

For once, the brothers weren't together, at least you didn't think so, because by now, you would have seen or heard Yuji.

"He said the mission was taking longer."

You almost melted.

His voice was slightly gravelly, almost gutteral, although not too low that his words were indistinguishable. There was a natural dominance in his tone, that didn't seem purposeful of him, nor did he have a "whatever I say, goes" tone.

The monotony suited his serious nature and his expression that kept his eyes on yuo.

It was a good thing you wore a coat, in case you had goosebumps on your arms from just his voice. You were embarrassed for yourself if so, but it was a reasonable feeling since you'd been dying to hear his voice.

"Oh…" you trailed off. His voice took away your ability to speak, apparently.

Taking out your phone, you saw the messages from Yuji.

Yuji: Sensei, there's even more curses UGHHH

Yuji: I'm sorry, it dragged out so much that I don't think I can come for coffee :(

Yuji: I would love to rearrange

Yuji: BRB Gojo decided to sit this one out and examine me and Megumi under pressure huh!!

You put your phone back in your coat pocket.

Only now did you actually process Choso's words. Yuji and the others had gone with Gojo to the crime scene as soon as you'd gotten back to Jujutsu High midday, so what on earth were they still doing there?

Unless Gojo was using it as one of his lessons.

If you'd seen Yuji's messages on the way to their room, would you have turned right back around knowing it would be just you and Choso?

Before you could overthink and look like a fool in front of him, you asked, "Would you…like to go anyways?"

It seemed the same bravery you had a few days ago took over, when you'd initially asked to make the plans to grab coffee, and so did your conscience that was screaming at you.

Choso was probably more concerned about Yuji's safety, although he must have also known that Yuji could handle it. He had nothing to worry about since Yuji was with Gojo.

Yet, to your surprise, he answered, "Okay."

You resisted gripping the doorframe for support. You weren't prepared for this, you just blurted out the offer and expected rejection!

If he declined, you could've turned around and dealt with the embarrassment that would haunt you for months.

Now, you'd be alone with him, one-on-one, face-to-face, or beside each other. Talking, or trying to talk, or awkward silence - that would probably only feel awkward on your side.

You were breaking the record for how fast you had cringed yourself out.

His stare made you fidget, something a man hadn't made you do since you were younger with wasteful crushes.

Unless, he was only saying yes to you because he didn't want to cause problems with Yuji. That was a fair option, although you'd never go and complain to Yuji about it - that was childish and you were his teacher, after all.

"Is it alright if I drive?" you asked. You weren't sure how much experience he had with cars, you were assuming he didn't drive and you highly doubted Kenjaku in Geto's body drove him around.

"Sure."

His soft, yet detached words of confirmation made you nod gently.

He grabbed a coat, putting his arms through it. Your eyes didn't linger too much, but you noticed his long, black coat was similar to yours. You wondered if it was his, or if he'd borrowed it from Yuji. You liked the combination of the modern coat paired with his robes.

After stepping out of the door, he gently closed it behind him.

You both stepped down the halls of Jujutsu High, exiting the hall of dormitories, side-by-side - just as you feared. Again, not because you thought Choso would do anything bad to you. It was silent as you both walked, and you weren't sure when you'd begin talking. If you wasted general small talk now, you'd have nothing to talk about at the cafe.

You gestured around the corner, for a shortcut to the car park. "This way."

He followed silently as you both turned the corner, down another hall with a door at the end.

You attempted to push one of the double doors and held back a groan as you struggled; Choso did not need to hear that.

Why on earth was it so stiff, or were you weak? Surely not, when you were a sorcerer!

The other door of the two open smoothly.

Your eyes widened slightly, head slowly turning to Choso.

He effortlessly pushed it and held it open.

"Thank you," you spoke, both flustered at his courtesy and embarrassed for yourself.

He held the top of the door open with one hand. Cold wind gusted into the hallway and you wondered why he didn't walk into it.

He was waiting for you to go first.

You ducked slightly, not that you were as tall as him, but so your body didn't brush against his as you stepped through. "Thank you."

He didn't respond, as expected. He followed you out and let go out the door, letting it shut.

Powerful wind almost blew you away, from the brewing of a storm that would probably get stronger tomorrow. It blared in your ears that you didn't hear his footsteps behind you, but you didn't dare turn around and check.

Locating your car, you unlocked the doors with the key and opened the door to the driver's side. He followed your movements, opening the passenger's side.

When you were both seated and shielded from the wind behind the car doors, the lights on the dashboard lit up when you put the key into the ignition, not turning the engine on yet as you saw an icon popping up. You turned your head to the man beside you. "Um, your seatbelt."

Choso briefly glanced at yours, before turning and grabbing the seatbelt, but it was stuck. You didn't want it to break if he pulled any harder, given his strength that he displayed at the doors, so you said, "Here."

After unclipping your own seatbelt, you scooted to the edge of your seat. You leaned over, with your knee grazing against the gearstick, giving him enough space so it didn't seem like a move fresh out of a Korean drama.

You inhaled.

Oh, gosh.

He smelled, so, so good.

His scent didn't hit you a minute ago when he held the door open for you, due to the gushing wind making it difficult to breath.

You took his seatbelt and let go of it, his own hand letting go too, returning the belt back to the top and almost "resetting" it. You pulled it back out and it was no longer stuck. You held it out for him to take.

Aromatic mixes of both wood and fruit at the same time filled your nostrils, with a hint of citrus, went straight to your lungs and your brain.

You'd never smelt a scent like that before. You wondered what cologne he used. Actually, it seemed like a mix.

You wanted to taste his scent, if that was possible.

Your eyelashes fluttered, attempting to rid of the strange thoughts.

He took the seatbelt from your hand and you returned back to your own seat, instead of borderline about to slide onto his lap. The silence between you was still.

Had you just made everything even more awkward?

You swallowed, throat dry. You realised you were in need of a drink, probably the thirst for him was getting to you.

You put your seatbelt back on and slowly exited Jujutsu High's gates.

It took a while to get out of the school's location, as it was in a forest. But you liked the drive and appreciated the green array of trees that were hundreds of years old.

No words were spoken between you, but in your peripheral, you didn't miss Choso's head turning out of the side window when you made it on the highway. It began to get dark enough where each car had their full-beam lights on.

You weren't sure which cafe to go to, what his preference of drink was or how much he'd tried. You didn't want to be rude by assuming he knew nothing, because you knew nothing about him.

Soon enough, you slowed the car and parked up around the corner from a dark start that was illuminated by open cafes and diners.

You both got out of the car and slowly walked towards one of the coffee shops that you mentally last-minute decided on.

You hesitated words to break the silence. With him, it was hard to speak without feeling like you needed to fill the silence, still thinking of what to say. "I hope you'll like this one."

Once again, he did not respond, making you all the more embarrassed.

This time you stepped ahead and opened the door of the coffee shop, standing in the doorway to hold it open for him.

The warmth of the coffee shop was enough to make you sleepy and hot under your coat. It wasn't busy this evening, only a few customers spread out through the room. It was a large, spacious place with loads of seating, even an upstairs. You were glad to bring Choso somewhere with not many people, in case it was something he disliked.

Your head turned to the man. "You can choose a seat and I can order for us, if you want. And what would you like to drink?"

"Anything you want," his deep voice spoke.

You nodded, averting your eyes and turning to wait behind the customer in front of you.

Once you had ordered your drinks, the barista said she would bring it over. Your eyes scanned for Choso, not long before you saw him by the fireplace, in the far corner.

You couldn't help the gentle smile. He'd taken his coat off and put it on the sofa chair beside him. The scene looked like the epitome of comfort in his white robes, gazing at the fire.

He looked beautiful with the glow of orange flames.

Before he caught you staring, you made your way over to sit across from him. Hopefully, you weren't disturbing his thoughts.

"The drinks should be ready soon," you spoke, snapping him out of his stare at the fire. He glanced up at you, before sitting and facing forward.

A rectangular table separated the two of you, as you both sat on the sofa chairs opposite each other. You could fall asleep right there with the warmth of the fireplace.

You also took your coat off, saying, "I got you a hot chocolate."

His eyebrows rose slightly, as to question what it was.

"It's chocolate and milk mixed together," you informed, before you realised he may not like sweet things. "I can go and change it if-"

"It's fine. Thank you." The soft deepness of his voice, or his voice in general, still took you off guard. You swallowed, nervously.

"So," you began. You weren't sure how awkward this evening was going to be in terms of conversing, you might as well start. "How much has Yuji showed you of Tokyo? Or just…human society?"

You almost winced at your last words, hoping it didn't seem like you were making fun of him. You really wanted to know how much he had experienced so far.

He gently shook his head in thought, signalling that he hadn't been shown much. His voice rumbled in your ears, even though he was sat just opposite you. "I do not wish to disturb his studying."

"He disturbs his own studying sometimes, but he is a good student," you lightly joked, a small smile growing at the mention of Choso's younger brother. Yuji was a safe topic.

Or was it? He looked down, but not a smile to match yours at the mention of Yuji. "I believe he enjoys classes taught by you."

You froze, not expecting the offhand compliment.

How much did Yuji tell Choso about your classes?

Hopefully, you hadn't done anything weird that Yuji relayed back to his older brother.

"I'm glad," you answered, with a small breath, before adding, "I know I'm not like Gojo who's all hands-on with his teaching, but…"

You didn't think you ever had a conversation about casual things that made your heart race like this before. There wasn't much time to date, other sorcerers at Jujutsu Tech felt the same way. Obviously, there could be complications with dating non-sorcerers and telling them what you did for a living. But it was difficult to even find opportunities and time to pursue sorcerers to date too, so you never bothered. And you'd never date anyone working for Jujutsu Tech, you had no interest and they were your co-workers.

Who were you kidding? This wasn't a date either!

"The structure is what he needs, especially after being pushed into this world," he responded.

You could dissect every sentence spoke, as if you were studying literature.

He seemed to understand Yuji's perspective as a teenager who was quickly swept up with and assimilated to the world of sorcery, as well as wanting Yuji to still live a somewhat normal and happy life.

You kind of always knew Choso was empathetic, from the care he showed for his brothers that Yuji killed, to forgiving and loving the other brother he never knew he had.

Before you could respond, the barista brought your drinks over and carefully placed them on the table. You thanked her and she walked away.

You got the two of you the same drink; you didn't feel like coffee or you'd be up all night. You hadn't been sleeping well lately anyway, with all of the work you did late into the night and the early morning classes the students had.

Regarding whether Choso did or didn't have a sweet tooth, you hoped you hadn't made a mistake with getting whipped cream on both of your drinks. It wasn't like how Gojo lathered his hot chocolates and frappes in not only whipped cream, but also syrup, sprinkles, marshmallows, gummy candies and more.

You lifted the tea spoon and as you always did, you began to eat some of the whipped cream. You felt eyes on you and couldn't help but glance up, spoon still in your mouth.

He lifted his spoon too.

"Sorry, I always eat it this way," you explained after taking the spoon out of your mouth, with a small chuckle. "Ever had whipped cream?"

He shook his head, taking some onto his spoon and tasting it. It was hard to believe the same man who never spoke to you and who you thought glared at you when you weren't looking, was tasting hot chocolate with you. "It…doesn't taste like anything."

"It kinda tastes like milk," you replied. He tilted his head gently, as if he considered and recognised the flavours and nodded. "I'm surprised Yuji didn't have you try it yet."

You lifted the mug, blowing on the steaming drink before taking a small, careful sip to test the temperature. It was fairly hot but it didn't burn your tongue, instead a light flavour of chocolate spread in your mouth.

You watched him do the same, lifting his mug.

It was cute that he observed you first. He blew on his too and took a sip.

"What do you think?" you asked.

"It's good," he spoke, which was more than you expected.

You gently smiled. "I'm glad."

At your smile, his eyes went to your lips. Oh, god, did you have something on it?

You quickly wiped your mouth, but you couldn't find or feel anything.

"Uh, but…what about you? What do you think about human society?" You asked, returning back to your conversation.

His lips parted slightly, in thought. "I am not sure."

You nodded, understanding. You hoped he already got to enjoy parts of contemporary society, at least, even if it was small things, like hot chocolate.

"I've…" he continued, unexpectedly, "Never known anything outside of my brothers. I have Yuji, and human society is his life, meaning it is now mine."

You slightly chewed the inside of your bottom lip in thought. "I think he'd want you to experience it for yourself too."

"Experience?" he asked, as if it were a foreign word.

"There are no major threats anymore. You could stay beside Yuji, instead of solely living for him." Your gaze travelled to the fireplace, hoping your words hadn't crossed a line by giving him unsolicited advice.

Something flickered in his eyes with his blink, seeming confused. "So, I should…"

"Live for yourself."

At your words, he did something you never expected.

His lips ever so slightly curled upwards, in a ghost of a smile.

Your heart warmed far more than the fireplace near you. He was beautiful with his usual straight face, but a slight smile on his face was in a different league.

"I am over 150 years old," he spoke. "It may be late for that."

His tone was bittersweet.

His brothers were all he had, and he must have sacrifice a lot. But to Choso, his brothers brought him genuine happiness, so was it a sacrifice?

Or as he said, was it that he had never known anything outside of his brothers?

Plus, his age meant nothing when it was his first time living as a human.

"It's never too late," you reassured, after a pause. You were slightly in a trance, staring into his eyes and considering his every words. You blinked out of it, embarrassed at how you must have sounded like a self-help book, before adding, "If…you ever, I don't know, wanted to do something for yourself, you can always ask me…if you don't know what to do."

You might as well have shouted from the rooftops: Kamo Choso, I have a thing for you! Spend time with me!

You both sipped away at your hot chocolate until your mugs were empty and you had conversed about safer topics.

When it got darker, the two of you decided to leave, slowly walking back to the car.

You didn't want the night to end, but there was no excuse to sit there all night.

You let out a breath, cold fog blowing in the air as you did. The cold got worse with the darkness of the evening, making you shiver. It made you remember something.

"I remember Yuji said you got cold often," you spoke. "Are you alright now?"

He gave a nod. "The cold seemed worse back then. Even if I did not have this body back then."

Back then, as in…the era he was born in?

If he was even "born". Well, curses were still born.

"It must have been," you agreed, silence taking over the two of you.

There was still tension between the two of you, that was always there, and hadn't dropped despite your outing tonight.

You neared the car and he spoke again, "What is it that humans in this era live for?"

You stopped in your tracks.

Your head turned to him as you thought, but you stared anywhere but his eyes, under a dim lamppost.

Many lives that had ended in front of you flashed in your mind. You would never be used to it.

No one's death felt like a number or statistic to you. You worried too much about people's individual lives. Every person, every victim, had their own world where they were important to someone.

If you and other sorcerers could not save anyone, you would arrive at their relatives or friends' doorsteps and apologise with a deep bow, with your head down on the ground. You taught your students to do the same, although Megumi already knew to do it from growing up at Jujutsu Tech.

"I would like to say it is love. Or peace. I used to think peace was necessary to love someone or something. But sometimes, love gets stronger when people have no peace," you answered, daring to glance up.

You slightly regretted it, because his intense look almost made you lose your train of thought, unless he thought you were speaking out of your ass.

Hs gaze didn't lighten up, as if he was trying to figure you out. "I am not too familiar with what they lived for in my era either. But what about you?"

Was he asking you what you lived for?

"I live for…love. Of course, it is a sorcerer's very existence to live for peace. But peace is. temporary. Love is constant," you respond, before sheepishly adding, "Sorry for the blurry answer."

"It is insightful," he spoke. "I suppose I am the same as you. I live for my brothers, therefore I live for love."

"You can still live for love, if you live for yourself," you added, circling back to the conversation from earlier. "Whether that is love for yourself…or even someone else."

"Someone else?" he asked.

Oh, no. What the hell were you even talking about? Why were you even giving him advice on what to live for? After all, he was new to all of this!

You were painfully obvious about your little crush on him.

This was perfect cringe material to hit you before bed for the next two years.

"I mean…you don't have to stay within the halls of Jujutsu High, I'm sure you won't. There is a wide ocean of people out there," you spoke, more lightheartedly to attempt to stray any ideas of that someone else being you.

His eyes searched between yours.

"It is interesting. I have met a variety of beings: curses, sorcerers, non-sorcerers, albeit not many of the latter. But there is one I cannot understand."

You blinked. There was no way he was talking about you…

You were an open book. At least, you thought you were.

The dark forest greeted you back at Jujutsu High. You parked the car up and the two of you headed back through the same shortcut into the building that you exited through, another quiet, slow walk.

You paused only near his and Yuji's room, wondering if the latter had gotten back yet. You didn't want to make Choso uncomfortable, as if you were dropping him off back to his room…as if it were date.

After this unexpected night of hesitant looks and quiet conversation the two of you finally shared, would things simply go back to how they were?

Barely seeing Choso around, but stealing glances at him on the rare occasion you did…

You weren't sure about silently burying away this evening until it was nothing but a memory, or even, forgotten by him.

"I had fun. Thank you," you spoke, gulping as the same hesitation returned.

He glanced at you, too far deep in your eyes, as if he contemplated something. "I should be thanking you."

"Why's that?" you asked.

Before he could answer, the door opened to reveal Yuji.

Uh, oh. You hadn't actually told Yuji you were still going with Choso, nor were you sure if Choso wanted his younger brother to know either.

The young student of yours stepped out, as if he was about to go somewhere, until he paused at the sight of you and Choso.

"Sensei?"

In reality, you wished it wasn't as weird as it was. After all, it wasn't like Choso was a student of yours either.

"Hi, Yuji," you spoke, trying to sound normal.

"Did you guys end up going together?" he asked, tilting his head.

"Um…no." What were you doing? You directed your gaze to Yuji, trying to block out the man beside you. "I was just…coming to check on you."

Your heart pounded in your chest, ears, even your jaw.

What the hell was wrong with you?

If Yuji was…slightly brighter, he'd probably question it, but he simply nodded with a shrug. "Eh, I'm okay. Don't tell me you're also gonna check on Megumi, he was so moody after the mission."

You were frozen still, wondering if you'd made the right decision to act like you weren't just out with Choso. At the same time, you wondered if it was what Choso preferred.

Choso…always seemed like he disliked you, even a little bit. Sure, tonight took him out of his shell a bit, but what if he didn't want any complications with Yuji?

You were Yuji's teacher after all.

"I'll see to Megumi tomorrow," you replied, hyperaware of the sound of Choso stepping closer. "I'll, um, I'll go and see Gojo now too. See you tomorrow."

You didn't hear Yuji's response when you had made it around the corner, your heart racing and making it difficult to breath.

You were such a coward.

Stupid, stupid, stupid.

That was all you thought of yourself for the next few weeks, the rest of your mind occupied with Choso.

Perhaps this was why Choso didn't like you, because you were foolish enough to act like the two of you hadn't gone out together.

Yet, you did it because it also seemed wrong to be loud and proud to Yuji, in case that wasn't what Choso wanted.

He valued his younger brother the most.

Still, it probably did not affect Choso at all. With how he never seemed to talk to you, he must have already thought you were strange. Then, you invited him out, someone you barely knew, when Yuji wasn't available.

You were anxious around Jujutsu High, even more than before you went out with Choso. You rarely saw him around anyway; he was never walking through the halls or at gatherings with other sorcerers. Now, you needed to be extra careful, even though you hadn't seen him since your meeting, or gathering, or…date?

What were you thinking? It wasn't a date!

After teaching, you were quick to go home when you had no other duties. You no longer lingered to see what Shoko was up to, or if Nanami needed help with paper work,

Instead, if Gojo went out on a mission, you tagged along more often, knowing full well he, of all people, didn't need help.

You stopped going out to eat with the other sorcerers too, in case there was a small, unlikely chance Choso was there - even though, again, he never was.

You acted normal towards Yuji because, well, he was Yuji and he hadn't done anything, as well as him being clueless to what had or hadn't happened between you and his older brother.

You didn't want to cause any issues for Choso.

From your first and only conversation with him at the cafe, it seemed he was discovering human society and told you that he lived for his brother's love. In response, you stupidly told him there is a wide ocean of people to live for.

It was difficult to have confidence about liking someone who was off-limits like Choso.

You told him love was constant, but you jumped to conclusions by crushing on someone before you'd even had one conversation with him.

After you taught the second years, you packed away your things and was about to go home. When you opened the classroom door, you nearly smacked into a tall figure.

A black blindfold that covered icy blue eyes stood up his white, almost platinum hair. Wearing his purple, silky uniform was Gojo Satoru.

"Gojo," you spoke in surprise. You stepped back so he could come into the room. "What's up?"

"You assume I want something, but I am a wellbeing officer here, after all," he spoke, cheerfully.

"You are? I didn't know we had that," you spoke. You weren't surprised; it seemed like he ran Jujutsu Tech the way he did almost every job.

"Yes, well, mental health is just as important as physical health," he replied, waving his hand dismissively. "I wanted to see why you hadn't come out with us lately."

"I didn't realise you noticed." Really, you didn't. If all the sorcerers hung out, it was only for meals; it wasn't like anyone had the energy for anything else when missions always came up.

"Oh, my silly, silly colleague. Of course I noticed! Even Nanami has a higher turnout rate than you," he spoke, stroking his chin as if in thought.

"I'm just tired."

"That's what they all say. Tell me, is it the workload? Teaching alongside missions? Or, is it even the restaurants. You might not like the food. I'll tell you what, next one is your pick," Gojo rambled. "Whatever it is, we can fix it."

"No, I…I promise it's okay. Thank you for checking, Gojo." If Choso were anyone else, maybe you'd tell Gojo exactly what was up. Then again, if Choso was anyone else, would you have acted such a fool?

"I'll tell you what. We were thinking an end of month dinner thing, at the end of this week. You in?" he asked.

You were guilty that Gojo was kind enough to check up on you and you didn't want to turn him down after receiving a forward invite like this either.

"Sure."

The week went by in a flash and next thing you knew, it was time for the end of month dinner.

Gathering with the sorcerers and students was never anything fancy. You brought a few essentials to work, like face wash and moisturiser to freshen up a bit after your last class of the semester.

Teaching at Jujutsu High was flexible since classes had a minimum of three students each, albeit Yuta who was away in Africa, and they were busy on missions when a new incident popped up. You didn't teach every day due to this, but instead, you were also on missions or doing endless paperwork - those aspects made up for the time you weren't teaching.

You drove to the restaurant where you'd meet the others. You followed the GPS and suddenly wondered if Choso would be there.

It was random and unlikely, but it was what you had feared. After all, that was why you hadn't been to a gathering in ages, although Choso had never gone to one - not that you knew of.

After you parked up, you walked into the busy restaurant. You told the waiter Gojo's name, to which they led you to the private dining room he'd paid for. It was a small place, slightly rundown and busy.

Your colleagues and students sat along an elongated table, where everyone was evenly split on either side, on the floor. Even must have just gotten there like you, as they were taking off their jackets.

It consisted of the first-years, second-years, Gojo, Shoko, Nanami, Ino, Ijichi, Principle Yaga and, no way…

Was that…

Choso?!

For once, your paranoia was right.

Two dark pigtails, white robes and a purple vest and the black stripes across his face - there he was, in all his glory.

The face you hadn't seen in weeks and had actively avoided, even though it haunted you day and night after your mindless mistake.

Your gazes met, feeling like the two of you were the only ones in the room.

"There you are!" Gojo exclaimed cheerfully, breaking you away from Choso's burning eyes and unreadable expression

You sat down on the floor at the corner of the table, closest to the door and opposite Nanami. Thankfully, Choso was at the opposite end of the table, beside Yuji. Still, you were in Choso's line of vision when he turned his head to the side, to talk to Yuji.

You meekly greeted everyone and glanced back down, listening in on whatever Ino and Nanami spoke about near you, trying to ignore the intense eyes of Yuji's older brother.

It felt like you two had gone back to square one.

It wasn't that he couldn't be here, but you wondered what made him come tonight, unless Yuji had finally convinced him.

It wasn't your business. You tried not to make him your business, by avoiding his eyes throughout the night.

However, like before, it was difficult not to steal glances. You tried to repress the urge as best as you could.

Nearing the end of the night, you went to look for a bathroom. You stepped out of the private room and into the hustle and bustle of the small restaurant. A toilet sign hung near the door, pointing outside.

You stepped out into the cold wind, rapidly chilling your body, and regret leaving your coat inside.

The strong wind was enough to remind you of a couple weeks ago, when Choso opened the door for you amidst the blowing breeze.

You quickly used the bathroom and stepped out shivering, but you abruptly stopped in your tracks at the sight of a familiar silhouette.

The evening darkened, but you could recognise him anywhere.

Choso.

You paused, almost wishing it was only the darkness of his silhouette and not the real thing.

You didn't know what to say, until you saw a cloud of breath in the air as he exhaled and shivered.

"You're cold," you blurted. Yuji said how Choso was always cold. He didn't bring a coat outside either, stood in his robes and purple vest. "Oh, the bathroom is free, if…you were waiting…"

You attempted to sound as normal as you could, but that was impossible around Choso.

He didn't reply at first and you wondered if he was ignoring you for a moment. It seemed he was also thinking of what to say, until he said, "I haven't seen you around lately."

How did he notice your absence? Why would he?

Choso was never around Jujutsu High, not where you saw him at least.

"I've just, I've been swamped lately," you lied quietly, wondering if he could hear you over the wind. You made yourself swamped. The awkward tension in the air was almost painful, that you had to add, "I'm really sorry about the other day."

It was the elephant in the room, or outside the restaurant.

Or was it?

It was his turn to look at you with shock in his eyes. "Why?"

His soft tone made you swallow nervously. He probably forgot about what happened, unlike you, but you couldn't back out now.

"Just…that evening, it was rude of me to lie and leave like that," you spoke. It was embarrassing enough to mention it, especially if Choso didn't care. He probably didn't even remember the two of you hung out, let alone your panicked reaction when Yuji saw you both together. "I didn't want you to feel uncomfortable in front of Yuji."

"I was going to apologise to you," he replied gently. "You were not rude."

Him? Apologise to you?

He had done nothing wrong.

"There's nothing for you to apologise for," you replied. You were the one at fault.

"If I had made you…feel that you couldn't tell Yuji we were together," he spoke, cold air from his breath emphasising every word.

"No, I ruined our night that day…" you trailed off.

It seemed like the two of you were dismissing each other's apology.

Perhaps everything was a misunderstanding.

Maybe he could understand that you panicked the other week and he ended up feeling guilty about it. That only made you feel worse.

He shook his head. "I'm grateful that you shared your time with me."

He was the first person you'd ever met that was so polite yet detached. His calmness and patience was almost foreign to you that he came across as standoffish. Funny how that worked.

"I would love to go out again," you offered quietly. "With Yuji or..."

You trailed off, but the way his lips turned upwards ever so slightly meant he understood what you meant; that he could have even agreed.

He nodded. The ghost of his smile almost healed the paranoia within you. "I would also like that."

Your conversation with Choso was the last.

After you'd gone home that evening of the gathering, you gained hope. You even began to envision another meet-up with Choso, selfishly without Yuji. You pictured the two of you alone in cozy cafes, introducing Choso to new beverages, timid and deep conversations; getting to know him better than you knew now.

But it was all false.

Days after, Yuji told you that him and Choso had found another place to live, and they were moving out of Jujutsu High.

Their new house was near the school. Yuji and Choso felt it was convenient to live somewhere more spacious together.

You understood it was not ideal for Choso to live here. Deep down, you knew it wasn't permanent. Hopefully, Choso would enjoy peace away from sorcery, even if he technically practiced it. He'd protect Yuji, and Gojo had put barriers with the power of his six eyes around their new place.

Yuji could also attempt to live a balanced life to human society and jujutsu. He was still a student at Jujutsu High.

For Choso, you'd likely never see him, which wasn't much different to when he did live at Jujutsu Tech, but at least then, there was a miniscule chance of it.

You tried not to be too pessimistic, but Choso had no purpose to come here - it wasn't like he worked for Jujutsu Tech.

You couldn't think of a plausible excuse to meet up with Choso again, if they'd be living away. You regretted leaving your first and only meet up with a bad note even more, even if the two of you had resolved it outside of the restaurant the other day.

You'd heard from Gojo that this week, they were packing their things and moving out. It could not have taken them long to move out, given the singular room of each Jujutsu High dorm room.

You couldn't bombard Choso when they were in the process of moving either, there was probably other important things to think about regarding their new house.

You were setting up for your class with the first years, until Yuji walked into the room dramatically fake crying, Nobara and Megumi following behind.

"What's up, Yuji?" you asked. Megumi disapprovingly shook his head that you gave Yuji the attention he wanted.

"It's my last walk to class with Megumi and Nobara!" the peach-haired boy yelled. You chuckled at his dramatics. He acted like he'd never walk into class with them again, when in reality, he just wouldn't walk from the dorms with them.

"Thank goodness for that!" Nobara exclaimed and sat down at her desk. Megumi tried to hide his slight smirk at her words, as he also sat down.

Yuji plopped down in his seat. "All of our stuff is gone. I'm mourning the room."

"You could always come back, Yuji," you spoke in a half-joke. "I doubt anyone else is going to be moving in any time soon."

"Too right, I hope not!" he exclaimed. "It's not the same though, the room is bare now. But Choso made it bare as soon as he arrived here, because he took down my pin-up posters ages ago."

The words made you subtly smile. Those types of pictures must have been weird for Choso to see, for now, at least. You assumed he hadn't seen much provocative media yet.

"Would you please stop yelling?" Megumi mumbled. "Even though you're moving, we still won't get a break from you."

The class went on and ended in only half an hour; there wasn't anything major or gripping to teach. At this stage, the three teenagers had sorcery in the palm of their hand - literally.

"Sensei," Yuji spoke, as you exited out of the PowerPoint for the class.

"Yes, Yuji?" you asked, glancing up.

"You should come and visit sometime," he spoke. "Whenever you want. I mean, Gojo will probably invite himself over every few days, and Nanami will come every now and then too."

"Sure…I'd love to," you hesitated.

Going along with Gojo or Nanami seemed normal enough, except you were selfish. You both desired and feared being alone with Choso, the thought making your heart jump.

You stayed at Jujutsu High until the official work day ended, despite ending your class with the first-years early, to catch up on paperwork. You attempted to focus, but couldn't get the thought of never talking to Choso again out of your mind.

You sighed, finally getting up from your seat when it turned 5pm, the sky and room beginning to darken.

You packed your things away, but almost had a heart attack from the figure at the door.

Your eyes widened, wondering if one of your daydreams had fully gone to your head to see Choso.

He looked slightly disheveled, as if he rushed here, his wispy fringe slightly frizzy.

He stepped into the open door of the classroom when you noticed him. "Hello."

"Hey," you breathed and stood up from your seat behind your desk, shock evident in your tone as you stood frozen.

He glanced at your things on the desk and back up to you, his purple eyelids seeming darker with the lack of bright light in the room. "Am I disturbing you?"

He stepped closer into the small classroom now, his gentle footsteps loud in the room that was so silent you could hear a pin drop, walking past the desks for the few students.

"No, not at all. How…how have you been doing?" you hesitantly asked, hyperaware of how you stood and unsure of how to react.

"Fine," he replied, nodding slowly. "We moved today."

You nodded in response. It had been hours since your last class with the first years, so him and Yuji must have sorted it all out.

"Yuji told me all of your things are packed," you recalled, attempting to make small talk, as if Choso moving away wasn't the only thing on your mind lately.

"We moved them over just now," he responded, confirming your thoughts.

If that was only a few hours ago, then why did Choso come back here? Unless they'd hired movers and Choso stayed behind?

"Oh, Yuji didn't need to attend my lesson if you guys needed to move," you spoke, although you were indirectly talking about Choso too.

"I told him to," he replied, shocking you for what felt like the millionth time. "Although, he wasn't reluctant."

"Oh…" you mumbled, with a nod. Choso did say that Yuji liked your lessons, but even then, it wasn't a necessity if the boy had a more important commitment like moving out.

"Are you busy?" he asked, glancing back at your things sprawled out on the desk. You were packing away, until you noticed he was there. How long was he stood there anyway?

You cleared your throat and shook your head. "No, no, I was just about to head home."

"I hope I won't keep you for long." He could call you whilst you were running late to a flight to the Maldives that was about to take off in thirty seconds and he would never be keeping you. "I had to come here to apologise."

Your eyebrows contorted slightly. Again? You felt like you were relieving your conversation with him from the other evening. "Apologise?"

"For not saying goodbye," he answered, stunning you into silence.

Goodbye…to you?

It was flattering that he would remember you, but it also filled you with dread.

As if he could read your mind, or if your expression gave you away, he added, "Truthfully, I'm not really saying goodbye."

"What do you mean?" you asked, confused.

"I wish to see you," he spoke.

You felt your entire world stop, your heartbeat the only thing you could hear, pounding in your ears.

"Y-you do?"

"Even if our new place is near Jujutsu High, I do not want to leave you," he said.

He actually thought of you, let alone leaving you behind?

You felt like you were going to faint.

"We haven't had our second meeting yet," you responded quietly.

"Or third, or fourth…." he added with a tinge of a smile.

Was it true?

He wanted to see more of you.

You really, really had him wrong.

"You mean…" you began.

"We're not moving far at all. I…" He reached in his pocket, pulling out a smartphone. You rose your eyebrows in surprise. "I bought this to arrange when you want to meet."

You glanced at the phone and back up at him.

If he had only just bought it, then maybe technology was out of his comfort zone.

Did he buy it with you in mind?

You let out a breath, almost a small, nervous laugh. "I can give you my number."

"I would appreciate that," he replied in his deep tone, before adding, "You are free to come over whenever you would like."

Even though Yuji told you the same thing, it was different that Choso was inviting you.

"I'd love that," you agreed gently, before adding, "Choso, you really did not have to come all this way, especially if you just moved out today."

"There was nothing else to attend to," he insisted. "Yuji and I ordered furniture and appliances, that we are waiting for. Besides, he went out with Megumi and Nobara just now.

You smiled gently. "I bet he said something along the lines of it being his last meal with them."

"Yes, he said his friends are sentimental to him…even unrealistically." Even when Yuji acted silly, Choso spoke of him highly.

"They'll probably end up sleeping at your place anyway," you nervously laughed. "Whereabouts did you both move, anyway? I heard it was nearby."

Hopefully it wasn't a creepy question.

"It's where you drove out of the trees, that evening," he began. "Just there."

Your eyebrows rose, recalling the few turns of small neighbourhoods between Jujutsu Tech and the highway. "That close? Wow."

It was like they weren't moving at all, even though you'd know Nobara and Megumi would feel Yuji's absence at the dorms - although, Yuji would probably stay over one of their rooms too if he got lazy to walk back to their house, or if he wanted to have a sleepover.

Choso, however, there was no excuse for you to see him. But perhaps, you didn't need an excuse anymore.

His eyelashes flickered. "You were about to go home, I am sorry."

"No, really, it's fine. You came at the right time," you responded, successfully holding back how glad you were that he came to you. "How did you come here? Taxi?

Jujutsu Tech was hidden deep in the woods, that the walk from their house would most likely be around twenty to thirty minutes, but only ten minutes by car. Yuji would need to do the walk every day, but he'd probably walked such distances when he used to go to school.

"Yes, well, I walked and then…ran.

He ran?

Well, that explained his disheveled state - although, disheveled for him was only a few hairs out of place.

"Why?" you asked, your voice coming out in a shocked whisper.

"I did not want to miss you. In case you had already left," he responded, blinking his eyes back to yours with a determination you hadn't seen before.

"There was no rush," you said.

"I didn't want you to think I forgot about you," he replied.

You bit your lip slightly, feeling guilty that you'd come to those conclusions due to your overthinking mind.

"It's…it's okay. I can drop you home," you offered.

"Actually, I was going to ask if you wanted to grab a drink, but it does not need to be today if you are too tired."

Your mouth dried slightly, not expecting any of this. You would never be too tired for him.

"I would love to today. What kind of drink?

"Beer," he answered.

You smiled gently. "Do you want to drink it at a restaurant or bar, or something?"

If you ever got beer with any of the others, it was usually at a restaurant.

"A bar," he answered, before shaking his head as if he realised his answers were fast. His dark eyelashes flickered. "The ones with…stools at the front."

"I might know a place like that."

You drove the two of you to a bar you had heard of, but never went to. It was a fancy place, large like a restaurant but with small tables only for drinking and snacking. A few salarymen were scattered around the bar, drinking after work.

You and Choso, just as he requested, sat at the bar stools, in front of the lighted storage, to show the different alcohol bottles. The dim light, as well as the velvet stools, gave it a luxury feel - completely opposite to anywhere you'd gone to after work.

You'd gone to BBQ restaurants with Nanami and Ino, or hotpot, or the busy restaurants like the one at the gathering Choso had come along to, or small ones to drink at - but never this. It didn't hurt to indulge, especially on an important evening like this where Choso had invited you this time.

The bartender placed two large pints of beers in front of you. Choso glanced at you, watching as you took the glass and took a few slow, large gulps. You turned your head, eyes widening slightly as you realised he witnessed that.

You wiped your mouth again, like when you drank the hot chocolate the other time, but again, it wasn't like you had a moustache of beer.

"Oh, you don't need to drink it like that. I'm just used to it from other places…" you trailed off sheepishly and placed your glass down, getting deja vu from the cafe. "I'll just keep it to one beer, since I'm driving."

You doubted he was here to get drunk either.

He nodded, taking a large sip of his own, before saying, "I've had beer before, but not in this atmosphere."

"You like it?" you asked, referring to the bar.

"I've heard that people come here after work," he said, looking around at the people in suits and formalwear from work.

"Is it something you'd ever want to do?" you asked, trying to get to know as much of him as possible.

"That depends on which job I'd have," he spoke. "Our new house is only motivating me to pursue work even more."

You nodded. "At Jujutsu Tech?"

"I don't think I'd want to do anything close to my curse side," he spoke.

You took another sip of beer, nodding in thought. Choso must have known that side of him too well by now after fighting tirelessly in Shibuya and afterwards using his Blood Manipulation.

"Would you want to know the human part of you?"

"I think it's time I learn to live as a human," his deep voice responded. "Live for myself, as someone said."

Your eyes widened slightly. He remembered that?

Hopefully, he didn't remember the part where you said he could have love for someone else, you still cringed that.

It was admirable how he valued that he wasn't only in a human body, but he had a purpose to live.

"That sounds great." You gave a nod, a subtle smile forming. You glanced at the salarymen scattered around the bar again, before returning your gaze to the man beside you. "Do you think you'd work an office job?"

"It sounds suitable for me," he agreed, matching your view of the workers in suits.

"You can ask Nanami about that. I'm sure he'll advise you on places to avoid," you spoke. Images of Choso in an office setting flickered in your mind, in a suit. You were sure that high-paying offices would accept him, especially with the black stripe across his nose - nowadays, they'd like different looking employees to show accepting a company was. They would assume it was a face tattoo. You also couldn't help but ask, "Do you think…you'd be allowed to keep your hair up?"

For the first time, Choso broke into a chuckle, his straight white teeth showing in his wide smile and purple-shadowed eyelids crinkling at the corners.

You let out a small breath. In that moment, you felt more powerful than any sorcerer for having the honour to make Choso laugh.

His smile highlighted the tint of his eyelids, the pink of his lips and the white of his teeth - colours you wanted to see over and over again.

"That is…something I did not consider," he replied, amused as his smile slightly subsided. "But if not, I can wear it down."

"Do you prefer the way it looks up?" you asked. Hopefully, you weren't obvious about your curiosity of his hair out of ponytails.

He shook his head. "Not particularly."

You nodded. He must have worn it for convenience-sake and got used to it.

"Do you want to see?" he asked, but didn't wait for your answer, before he reached up and pulled the pigtails out of their bands, with each hand. His soft light brown, slightly auburn, hair fell down to his neck. He smoothed it out with a veiny hand.

Your lips parted.

His hair, at neck-length, was not as long as you thought.

The strands were uneven, the ones at the top of his head almost sprouting out, making him look more effortless and more…modern.

"I love it," you blurted softly, before stilling at your own words. Your mouth worked ahead of your brain, again! "Sorry…"

He gently smiled again, closed-mouth, which you'd never get used to, and shook his head to dismiss your apology. "Perhaps I should give my scalp a break sometimes then."

"I…kind of wondered how long your hair was," you admitted.

He gave a nod. "It is not as long as Geto's."

It must have been weird for him to the man's name, seeing as Kenjaku used Geto's body.

Choso leaned closer, hand on the bar counter as he gazed at you. He searched between your eyes, but you weren't sure what for. "Is there…anything else you wondered about me?"

"I wondered if…" you began, chewing your lip and looking down at his robe in thought. You figured you get it all out on the table now. Choso seemed to want to talk to you, so you wanted to be honest. "If you disliked me."

Choso slightly retreated back slightly, eyelashes fluttering in shock. Had you just made everything worse? "I made you feel that way?"

"No, it wasn't you…" you trailed off, realising that your insecurities had offended him. "I just overthought it and felt a bit intimidated."

Choso tilted his head, in thought. "I said that I've met a variety of beings, even before I was in this body. But there was one I could not understand."

You nodded.

"It was you," he added, his voice rich with gravel. "I must have come across as intense because…I was trying to figure you out."

"Why?" you asked quietly.

"You were like a puzzle I couldn't piece together. A riddle I could not answer," he spoke. "I had only saw you a few times and I wanted to know what was going on in your head."

His words settled deep within you, heavy yet gentle like the last drops of rain before the sky cleared.

All these weeks of convincing yourself that he didn't notice you, didn't think about you and snapping yourself back to reality with your childish crush, they were all your overthinking anxieties.

You shook your head, almost frantic. "I'm not…there's nothing like that in my head."

You felt his gaze on you, steady and observant, as if every second meant something to him.

"You are far more complex than you give yourself credit for," he spoke.

His words were exactly how you felt about him. How you couldn't read him.

"If there's anything else you think of, can you tell me?" he asked, his low tone coming out as a murmur. When he looked at you in the dim light of the quiet bar, it was as if you were the only ones in the room. 

"But why?" you asked again, quietly. "Why me?"

"I'm…fond of you," he spoke, making your heart race. You felt stinging behind your eyes, although you were lucky that no water formed - that would be embarrassing. "It sounds unrealistic, considering the few times we have spoken."

"It's not," you managed to say. "I feel the same way. And…I always have."

"I'm sorry I did not express this to you sooner. I suppose I…I thought the only love I lived for was solely for my brothers," said Choso.

You could have cried solely from relief, that he used the word love.

You carried the weight of your feelings like it was forbidden and off-limits with Choso. But through you, it seemed he learned what it was to feel something beyond blood.

Choso's world began and ended with Yuji, is what you knew and thought from the start. You didn't want to take it from him, but maybe he was making a fraction of room for you.

"Perhaps that is what makes you human," you spoke, surprised your voice wasn't shaky. "You can love in more than one way."

He paused, glancing at you as if you'd unlocked the secret to the world. Frankly, you knew nothing about love yourself. Perhaps in his discovery of being a human, you'd discover it too.

Silence lingered between you, but not full of tension or awkwardness. For once, you didn't stop it. You let yourself, and him, feel the ache in your heart that seemed to be relieving of worry, instead of brushing it off and calling yourself foolish.

"I hope I've not wasted any time between us," he said.

"We have all the time in the world. I'm not going anywhere," you responded.

You must have looked like lovers, with both of you leaning in and with each of your hands on the countered, immersed in each other.

"Neither am I. I'm not sure where I would go, now that I have you," Choso said.

He won’t lie, he likes you clingy. However, you hadn’t been spending much time with him. Megumi knew that you would be free today. So a scary movie it was. He needed an excuse.

He had called you over and had the movie playing. Your hands were gripping his, knuckles white, and you had them pulled in front of your face. He smiled a little when he realized you were still peeking through them.

“You scared?”

He was being a little mean. He knows you know, as if the quick glare you sent him didn’t speak volumes. Freeing his hands from your death grip, he throws one arm around you. Within a second, your hands were gripping his again, and he couldn’t help but laugh right against your ear, breathy and deep.

When he feels you shiver against him, Megumi has a feeling that the jump-scare on the screen wasn’t the reason.

A few moments pass, and his head is propped up against the wall. During the dialogue scene, you glance over at him.

“Aren’t you scared?”

His eyes slid over to meet your’s. “Hm?”

You huff a little in frustration at his face. “You have no expression on your face. I’m feeling a little silly over here.”

Megumi pulls you closer to him, and your dogs bound onto the bed. Scratching them behind their ears, you continue, “They have more feeling on their face than you.”

Megumi listens quietly, snuggling his face against your neck. The movie continues, and during the next jump-scare, he kisses your neck from behind, effectively distracting you.

Your pulse thunders right against his lips as he feels you tighten your hands around his. As the movie ends, he rubs your shoulders, massaging the tension and fear away slowly.

Once you’ve relaxed against him, he kisses your hair, your neck, your shoulders. He doesn’t notice you and the dogs getting ready to pounce him.

“Rah!” You turn in his arms, throwing your weight against him as the dogs tackle him from the sides. He laughs, falling, as all three of you pepper his face with kisses.

After calming down, he opens his eyes and looks at you. Your hands are holding his face, and he knows there’s a flush in his cheeks as your thumbs graze it.

“There we go. Much better.”

Pulling you to lay down on him, he sighs. With you hugging him tightly, he knows you’re gonna spend the night because you’re scared. You’re clingy.

“Let me see it.” Bucky mutters, stepping into the bathroom.

“Just give me the medipack.” You extend your hand out but he brushes it away, crouching in front of you on one knee.

“This is going to hurt, and I’m not going to let you pass out alone in a bathroom.” He mutters, taking one of his knives out and slowly starting to cut away the cloth surrounding the wound.

“Oh, how sweet of you.” You say through clenched teeth, the methodical peeling of the fabric feeling like he’s pulling away skin.

“That’s what everybody calls me. Sweetie Bucky Barnes.” He quips dryly, and you let out a light chuckle before wincing again as he grazes a thumb on your newly uncovered cut.

“Watch it doc.” You say, but he ignores you, instead throwing you the medipack and pulling your leg on top of his bent knee.

“Give me the wipes.” He says.

Your breath hissing through your teeth, you do as you’re told, giving him the sanitizing wipes with stuttering hesitation. You know it’s going to hurt, and your body has had enough hurt for today.

He wipes away sticky blood and the burnt cloth remnants that stick to your wounds, and you close your eyes in an effort to hide away from the sensation.

“Burn aid.” He says, and you open your eyes to see him looking up at you, one palm outstretched. Dirt and soot cling to his skin, a bruise forming on his temple and a cut barely bleeding on his lip. A sight you’ve seen a lot before, but rarely with concern knitting his brow. You almost reach up to rub it away, but you hold your hand back.

“Is it bad?” You say breathlessly, and his mouth pinches into a tight line.

“It will be if you don’t give me the burn aid.” He says, and you dig in the pack, tossing him the tube. He catches it with one hand, holding your foot still with the other as he flips it open and readies it above one burn.

“Don’t thrash.” He says before he drops liquid ointment on, and you gasp as if it’s burning you all over again. Reaching out, you grab onto his metal shoulder, digging your fingers into the meld between flesh and machine as you groan. He shuffles slightly closer to you, giving you a better grip.

“Sorry. They’re acid burns. I have to stop the spread.” He says through your moans of pain.

“I’m going to make that damn octopus into takoyaki.” You hiss, and he chuckles as he continues.

“I’ve never seen you cook a damn thing.” He says. You flick his ear and he glares at you.

“Take me on a mission where we end up with a working kitchen, then. The past five places we’ve had to stay in have been basically a hole in the ground. You’ve had to sleep on the ground in three of them.”

“If it was up to me, you wouldn’t be going on missions at all.” He says, and you scoff.

“And what is that supposed to mean? Are you doubting my abilities now? It was one octopus. Which, might I add, I almost killed before you dragged me away.”

“I dragged you away because an 8-foot tentacle latched itself onto your leg and shocked you so bad I saw smoke coming from your skin.” He mutters, turning your calf around to find the rest of the tiny burns that litter your skin.

“Yeah, I got hurt. That’s what happens when you’re on mission.”

“No. You’re not supposed to get hurt. Mission or not.”

“Well, neither are you, but you still come with me every time.”

His eyes flick up to yours, and your breath hitches.

“You’re not supposed to get hurt. I’m there to keep you from being hurt. Whatever happens to me during the course of that, happens. Needle.” He looks back down at your leg, tossing the empty burn aid ointment behind his shoulder and extending a palm towards you again.

You exhale sharply.

“You treat me like I’m a civilian. I’ve fought, you know. Wherever they sent me, I fought. I’m not weak just because I have less experience than you.” You take out the needle and thread pack, slapping them down in his hand. He glances up at you again.

“I never said you were weak.”

You stop talking as soon as he makes the first stitch, your thoughts blinded by pain. You don’t realize you’re white-knuckling his shoulder until he pats your arm with his metal hand.

“Done. How you feeling?” He asks, looking into your face as you look at him blearily. “Because you look like shit.”

“Aw gee, thanks Sweetie Barnes. You really know how to make a gal feel better.” You put on the hokey accent that usually makes him roll his eyes, but he doesn’t now. Concern still knits his forehead as grabs the gauze out of the medipack on your lap, quickly wrapping it tightly around your leg. Your eyes flutter closed again, and he snaps his metal fingers in your face. You open your eyes, annoyed.

“Watch it.” You hiss.

“Don’t fall asleep.”

“I’ll do what I want.”

He tightens the bandages in response, and you curse at him. He smirks.

“Right back at you. Get up.” He takes the medipack off your lap and lets your leg down gently, standing next to you. He leans down, putting his metal arm around your ribs and hoisting you up, his other hand on your waist as you throw your arm over his shoulders.

Together, you limp over to the only bed in the place, an old mattress in the main room in front of a large, dirty window. He leans you against a wall and throws one of your two blankets over its dirty surface, coming back to you to lead you to it.

“Easy.” He mutters as he lowers you gently onto it. You fall back as you land, stretching out your leg and hazily looking up at the ceiling.

The sunset from outside throws diffuse pink and yellow light on the dingy apartment walls, covering the moldy plaster with a heavenly hue. You blink slowly, exhausted, pain radiating from your leg. The world seems to stand still as you look over to him again.

The same light halos Bucky, now looking down at you from beside the mattress, arms crossed. You smile lazily up at him.

“Howdy.” You say.

“What’s so funny?” He asks.

“Nothin’. You look pretty.”

“You’ve lost too much blood.”

“I’m saying the truth!”

“You’re obviously losing it.”

“You don’t think you’re pretty?”

“I’m not the pretty one in the room.”

His cheeks blush a dusty pink as you blink up at him, taken aback even in this dizzy state. He looks away from you, walking away quickly.

“I thought I looked like shit?” You say after him.

“Yeah. You do. Drink this.” He comes back in your vision, crouching down and putting a pouch in your hand. You make a face, knowing what it is instinctively.

“Is it strawberry?” You ask, and he chuckles.

“Of course.”

“It’s the only one that tastes remotely good.”

“I know. Just drink it.”

You sigh as you bring the chalky protein pouch to your mouth, trying to swallow it as fast as you can.

“With all this Stark and government money, you’d think they’d make it taste better.” You choke out, which nets you a chuckle from Bucky. Your heart flutters.

“I guess life-saving EPO smoothie pouches are difficult to make taste good. Are you done?” He holds a hand out for the crumpled pouch. He throws it over his shoulder as soon as you give it to him.

“Littering is bad, you know.” You say.

“I’m a bad guy.”

“No, you’re not.” You furrow your brow and match his silent gaze. His cold blue eyes stay bright in the darkening room, and you’re not sure if its the soft look he’s giving you or the blood loss that makes you feel weightless.

“You should sleep.” He says quietly.

“Finally.” You yawn, breaking eye contact first as you roll away from him, laying on your non-injured side on one half of the mattress. A moment later, a blanket is thrown over you, and you quickly tuck it under your chin, trying to get warmer.

“Thank you, Bucky.” You yawn, and you hear his grunt of affirmation from across the room. You lean up on an elbow to see him sitting against the wall yards away from you, one knee bent up and his metal arm laying on it. At your movement, he looks over at you.

“Yes?” He says, and you pull the blanket back to leave an opening.

“I’m cold.” You say.

“What?”

“And you can’t sleep against the wall.”

“Yes I can.”

Your thoughts whirl out before you can stop any of them.

“You shouldn’t sleep against the wall. You’re old. Maybe you’ll get stuck there. Your knees locking up. Then what’ll happen? Neither of us can get up? We die, starving in this shitty apartment? You want that?”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“I’m cold. Please.” You say, quietly. His jaw clenches.

It must be the blood loss that’s letting you plead with him. Usually these raw, aching feelings are ones that you keep to yourself. His silent, watching eye always having to be blanket enough.

But now, the cold is to your bones. And in this open-air apartment, he must be cold too. He watches you, shadows now hiding the expression on his face.

“I’m not old.” He grunts as he gets up. You smile until he reaches a deft finger behind his metal shoulder, pressing an invisible button. His arm pops off with a hiss into his hand.

“What are you doing?” You ask. He looks over at you.

“Taking off my arm. What are you doing?”

“Questioning why you feel the need to do that.” It looks uncanny, him standing there with the limp and lifeless part of him in his hand.

“If I’m getting in bed with you, I have to take off the arm.” He says, slowly.

“Who says that?”

“Me.”

“Well, you’re being stupid.”

“What?”

“What’s the point of taking off your arm?”

“Do you know what I’ve done with this arm?” He shakes it a little in your direction, hand stiff.

“You mean years ago?”

“I beat three men into a pulp with it today.”

“Yeah, after their walking seafood platter tried frying me into oblivion.” You scoff.

He scowls, a beam of moonlight shining across his face and down onto the arm. You lay back down, looking at him as he thinks. He always thinks so deeply, his jaw clenched. You often think about how it would feel to rub the tension out of his expression, running your fingers through his hair and down to his shoulders. Being able to touch him without pretense.

“I don’t want to hurt you.” He mutters after minutes of silence. Your heart flutters again as your confusion grows.

“What do you mean, hurt me? You’re not going to hurt me.”

“You don’t know that.” His voice is so soft, it stabs your heart. You sit back up.

“Bucky-”

“I hurt people. That’s what I was made for, and that’s what I do. Whether I want to or not. This arm has-” He cuts himself off, his voice dying in his throat as he clenches his jaw again. “I’m a weapon. And I don’t want to be used against you.”

His words hang heavy in the air, broken when you chuckle and shake your head. He snaps up to look at you.

“You don’t get it, Barnes.” You say.

“And what don’t I get?”

“I trust you.”

“What?”

“Intrinsically. To my core. I trust you. I know you’re not going to hurt me.”

“You can’t know something that I don’t know myself.”

“Bucky, you just stitched up my leg with that arm.”

“That’s what you do if your partner is hurt.”

“You pulled me out of that flaming car in Beirut a month ago, with that arm.”

“I wouldn’t have had to if you didn’t speed into the wall.”

“Minor mishap. You pulled that drowning woman out of the sea in Miami. Stopped that runaway train in Bucharest. You even saved that cat in Sheffield, like an honest-to-god superhero. All with that arm.”

He stays silent, looking at you from across the room.

“You’re not a weapon. You’re a person forced into a position that you’ve broken out of. You use your arm as a tool for your own goals, which since I’ve known you, have never been anything except rooted in the care and protection of others.” You say, and he still doesn’t say a word.

“Bucky, I’m not scared of you. I would never be scared of a hero.”

Bucky stands photo-still across the room. Your heart inexplicably beats faster as you grow more tired.

Restlessly, you drop your head back onto the bundle of clothing that acts as your pillow, and pat the empty space behind you as you look at his silhouette.

He slowly clips his arm back on, shrugging his shoulder, and hesitantly walks over to the mattress. It sinks as he sits down on it, taking off his boots with precision. You close your eyes.

Already, you feel warmer.

He lays on his back next to you, his own jacket bundled up under his head, and your skin rejoices at the light touch of his warm arm on your spine as he settles in.

“Better?” He says quietly, and you flush at the feeling of him so close.

“Still cold.” You say, half into the blanket bunched near your face. After a moments hesitation, you hold your palm up to him. “Arm, please.”

“I thought you didn’t want it off.” He says, and you roll your eyes.

“Cuddle me, idiot.”

“What did I just say about hurting you?”

“You’re not going to hurt me. Unless you let me freeze to death.” You chatter your teeth. His eye roll was practically audible. It takes a moment until he brushes your hand aside, turning to press his chest against your back and putting his warm arm curled under his head. He slides his metal one over your waist.

He keeps it there, delicate and uncertain, and you’re hesitant yourself as you reach down to it, pulling it up your body and laying it against your chest. Hugging his forearm, his hand twitches as you kiss his palm gently.

Bucky stiffens behind you, a sharp intake of breath making a small bit of panic flash in your brain, but he doesn’t pull away.

After a moment, he pulls you closer, nestling you into the curve of his body. You drift off to sleep, the ghost of his lips burning a kiss in the delicate skin behind your ear.

----------

He proceeded to ask again in the same tone. Perhaps he should be worried with how your eyes were the only thing that moved to look at him yet your body seemingly still remains life-less on the very bed you both are on. And you simply hum back at him. He sighed before moving tad bit more closer to you, unsure if you want to be left alone or not. "Rough day?" He asked in a gentle manner, while still scrolling through his device. Trying to act casual.

You seemed to wonder while he waited patiently. And he waited, for long, until he can't. "So?.." and yet again all you do is hum back at him. Is he concerned? Yes, Does he want to shake you violently until you feel more alive like and answer him? also yes. After another few moments of silence he finally puts away his device and scoots closer to you. laying in front of you, not daring to hold you just yet, at least not until you want him too. "..." For a while you both silently looked at each other.. or at least he did, your eyes still seemed lost. And it bothers him to a great extent. "Are you... mad at me?" Well.., at least this seemed to have gotten your attention. Letting out a confused hum you scooted a bit more closer to him. "I asked if you are.. mad at me. Is it because I have been busy lately?" His tone didn't change once from the starting, as if he were talking to a child, slow and mellow. You slowly, almost barely, shook your head side to side as he gently moved the strands of hair behind your ear. "Then, what's the matter?" He whispered out as you close your eyes under the touch of his warm hand. The same hand that slides behind your head and gently pulls it closer to him.

And you instinctively wrap your arm around his chest while the other stays between you both. Silence falls over once again as you hear your own heartbeat within your ears. His hand gently patting your head until it stops. "I.. Miss you.." your voice was barely audible, eyes still closed, yet he heard you or at least you hope he did.

"Have I been far for too long?" You can feel the smugness present in his voice which brings a small smile on your face. "way too far" You mumble out, pulling him, wanting him even more close to you then he already was.

"Don't worry, I'm not going anywhere." He mumbled back while resting his chin above your head.

"Liar" Voice low, your eyes still closed as you tried to find warmth from his body.

"why would I lie?"

You didn't answer back.

His hand moved from behind your head to cup you face as he brought his face down to your face level.

"Look at me" It didn't sound like a request but rather a lingering tone of confusion.

This made you shake your head, denying his request, squeezing your already shut eyes even more.

"why not?" You didn't answer, just tried to pull him even more closer.

"hmm? Have I gotten ugly? thought you said you loved looking in my eyes" this earned him a light smack on his chest. He mocked out a grunt and a small "ow"

"Its not like that..." You whispered. And Honestly, you wanted too. To look in his pretty eyes, to look at his cute yet handsome face. To feel his warmth. To feel his warm breath on your body. To feel his warm hands hold you. To feel his cold finger tips sooth you. To feel his lip.. on you.

"Then look at me, or, let me look at you" "I would, but If I do-" You finally opened your eyes to look into his cause you wanted to, to look into his so bad, desperately wanting it to feel real.

and yet,

all you see is your pillow which you're holding on too like your life depends on it..

"I won't.. see you" You mumble out to no one in particular.

The room felt colder than ever, dark with no lights on, only being illuminated with the lights outside. The night sky being dulled due to clouds of pollution with almost no stars in view as you stare out.

For a few minutes you did nothing. Just stared out. Until you finally got up, head aching, eyes begging for sleep, chest heavy with emotions you can't explain.

Heading straight to your window/balcony, you stare out in nothingness, letting the breeze hit you face. Head filled with thoughts.

thoughts about a life you know isn't possible no matter what.

Yet, in the back of your mind, you feel him. Behind you, laying on your bed, sleeping peacefully and it swelled your heart with affection.

So you didn't turn to look at him. Just.. just not yet.

At least for a bit.

So you could feel less lonely.

A/n: Ehehe-.. So that happened :D Anyways I hope you found some peace reading this because I sure do feel a bit more peaceful after writing this. (I have an exam tomorrow and its almost 2 am) Ahem- so I kinda tried making it make more sense by not adding few details like the reader unable to feel his breath on their face and pure desperation to feel close only to feel his non-existing warmth and what not. I suck at writing :D Take care sweet people- good nighty

93.

You glance up at Peter as the feeling of nausea washes over you. Your exam is in fourty minutes.

He claps your back with his attempt of an encouraging smile.

"You're gonna do well. You revised a lot, remember?"

Of course you know that. The worksheets were so easy it made you paranoid.

There must've been a glare on your face since Peter retracts his hand from your back and raises both of them in a 'surrender' position.

117.

117bmp is the exact rate your heartbeat when you enter the school.

You had brought your notes just so you could revise whilst you wait for your exam to start.

"Didn't the teacher say we might need to know the S and the J curves??" You ask before flicking through your notes to the pages where you had the notes written -just incase.

"You just need to know why they're like that." Peter replies as his shoulder brushes against yours to glance at the notes you took, to which you tilt your book to show him the notes.

"S is the realistic one, and J is the, unrealistic one -the one that hasn't reached carrying capacity," Peter explains as he reads through your notes.

It didn't take long for a teacher to walk out of the classroom and make her announcements as you shove everything into your bag and grab out a pen and a calculator.

After the teacher finishes speaking, she lets you inside and you take your seat next to Peter.

The wait was worse. You couldn't do anything. Your leg quickly bounced in its spot. You sat in silence, watching the timer on the screen, waiting for it to hit 11:55 before you can start the exam.

The teacher runs through everything before waiting a few seconds and giving everyone the green light to begin flick through their papers.