#but this slipped right through the cracks I guess

[i2sunric]

𝐋𝐎𝐘𝐀𝐋𝐓𝐘 (p.sh)

PAIRING: hockeyplayer!sunghoon x classpresident!reader (f)

SUMMARY: after an argument caused by his overwhelming jealousy, you decide to find him in the hockey changing rooms to show him your loyalty, by getting down on your knees.

WARNINGS: jealousy (borderline toxic?) argument, fighting, sunghoon has a bad temperament, smut (blowjob, deepthroat), dirty talking, dom!hoon but reader knows her way with him, cum in mouth, cum eating, high school au (but they’re both 19), hoon is slightly toxic, pet names (slut, baby), messy blowjob, lmk if more. NOT PROOFREAD

PUBLISHED: 27th November 2024

WC: 2.1k

TAGLIST: permanent) @stolasisyourparent @jaeyunsbimbo @jwnghyuns @bangtancultsposts @shawnyle @jooniesbears-blog @skzenhalove @ro-diaries @onlyhyunjin @xcosmi @strawberrhypen @heeheeswifey @destinyhoon @jakeflvrz @emislove @astratlantis @tunafishyfishylike @branchrkive @insommni4 @kirinaa08 @leiclerc @nxzz-skz @laurradoesloveu @beomluvr r @heeshlove @17ericas @riribelle @senascoooop @mitmit01 @cloud-lyy @won4me @slut4hee @leov3rse @aanniikkaa @lvnglysunoo @lovingvoidgoatee @talesofthegreatest @yeonjunswife05 @soobieboo @llearlert @j1sb4e @roslayy @yunhoswrldddd @eneiyri @jakeswifez @malak13567889 @seochangbinnnnnnnnnnn @hoonics BOLDS COULD NOT BE TAGGED

a/n: peekaboo! guess who rose from not the dead but my drafts? yup, this fic i never actually had the inspiration to write. please REBLOG & COMMENT to share and lmk your thoughts.

The cold air from the rink clung to your skin as you stormed down the corridor, the sound of your heels clicking pounding in your ears.

Every word from the argument replayed in your mind, sharper each time, like tiny blades cutting into your chest. You’d always known about Sunghoon’s temper, how he buried that dangerous, jealous side of himself for you.

He was used to getting into fights and spending more time in detention than in class, but he had tried to change the exact moment you became his girlfriend.

He tried, but sometimes it slipped through the cracks. Sometimes it surged to the surface, fiery and unrelenting, like it had the day before.

For a moment, you just stood there, breathing hard. You thought you’d gotten used to it—the way his jealousy twisted into anger, the way he let it consume him.

It hadn’t, truthfully, but you were going to make everything right again, even if it meant swallowing your pride — and his dick — Because he was more important.

As soon as your council meeting ended, you decided to rush to the hockey changing room in order to get Sunghoon before morning classes.

You waited for everyone to exit, knowing that if your boyfriend was any the annoyed teenage kid he was, he’d take a long shower to calm his nerves.

You ignored all the wolf whistles and viscous smirk as you pushed the door of the male changing rooms open, after making sure everyone except Sunghoon was out.

And there you saw him, sculpted like a Greek god as his dignity was covered only with a towel while he dried his hair with another.

His eyes closed momentarily before quickly snapping back open as his head turned towards the door.

Sunghoon stepped forwards with the towel wrapped around his waist, water still dripping from his hair but his muscles were prominent as he stared down at you

"What the hell are you doing in here?" he spoke, tone harsh and annoyed as he stepped closer to you.

You already knew he was mad, so be it. You stood in front of him with your backpack in hand, your hair perfectly combed and uniform neat “We need to talk.”

Sunghoon's jaw tightened at your words, his eyes narrowing on you as he continued to walk towards you while looking down at you like you were some kind of prey. "Yeah? Well, if you couldn't tell, I’m kind of busy here,"

You sighed, placing your backpack on one of the benches, side stepping him “I can wait.”

"And you think you're allowed to just wait in here? You shouldn't be in here in the first place," He retorted impatiently as he also turned around, walking towards his own locker to grab some clean clothes.

“Then I’ll just have to break some rules.” You replied, letting him know you weren’t backing down. “Why are you mad at me?”

Sunghoon clenched his jaw as he grabbed his boxers, pulling them on under his towel and removing it around his waist before reaching for his school pants.

He didn't bother to turn around to look at you as he was getting dressed, but his attitude changed a bit at your question, scoffing in response. "You really wanna know why I'm mad?" he retorted as he grabbed a plain black t-shirt to go over his head.

You eyed him shamelessly as he got dressed. "That's what I just asked."

Sunghoon couldn't help but notice the way your eyes remained on him, watching as he pulled the t-shirt over his head, his muscles straining against the fabric as he finally looked back at you, eyes dark and expression cold. "It's because of that prick from the council you've been spending so much time with," He responded with venom in his tone as he spoke.

“What about him?” You already knew what was the rant about, you had already heard all of his jealous tantrum the day before.

Still, you needed him to talk to you.

He clearly was not happy about the fact that you were acting clueless. "Don't play stupid with me," he sneered, "You know exactly why I’m mad. You've been spending so much time with that bastard from the council, right under my nose."

You sighed, hands resting on your hip “Because he helps me with my election campaign,” you filled in “Nothing more, don’t act like I’m hooking up with someone.”

Sunghoon couldn't help but scoff again, clearly not believing you whatsoever. "You really expect me to believe that bullshit?" he retorted, his tone cold. "You're constantly with that prick every time I see you. How am I supposed to believe you haven't been doing anything behind my back?"

You raised a brow at him. Clearly, what he had said wasn’t of your liking, “Why do you doubt me?”

"Oh, don't give me that look," He shot back, his expression cold and indifferent as he stared down at you with narrowed eyes. "I have every reason to doubt you. Everytime I see the two of you, you're all chummy, standing way too close together."

You walked close to him, slowly, like a panther ready to attack; waiting for the right time.

“Choose your words carefully.” You said, lowly “Because you know well I would never cheat on you.”

His nostrils filled with the smell of your perfume that he always loved.

He was about to attack again but your words shut him up immediately, his eyes locking with yours as he was slightly intimidated.

However, he still tried to keep his cold, indifferent façade, scoffing again as he leaned against a locker. "I can say whatever the hell I want," he retorted stubbornly.

You looked up at him “What do you need?” you asked “Do you need me to prove myself to you?”

Sunghoon couldn't help but notice the way you stared up at him, and as much as he wanted to keep his cold facade and be stubborn, he was also slightly affected by the fact that you were making it so difficult for him to stay mad at you.

“What are you getting at?" he asked, his tone still harsh as he kept his eyes locked on yours, his arms folded as he leaned against the locker.

Your tone was low “You need my reassurance, Hoon?” his heart skipped a beat as you called him by his nickname, something you never did when you're upset.

"What kind of reassurance?" he questioned, “My loyalty.” you replied.

“And how do you plan on showing me?” your hand slowly travelled up his thigh to squeeze his groin.

Sunghoon reached out for you, his hands gripping onto your hips tightly as he pulled you closer so your body was now pressed against his. "Is this you being loyal?"

You smirked and squeezed him, nodding your head, making Sunghoon suppress a shiver. A mocking scoff left his lips “Yeah? You think that is enough?”

You rolled your eyes, “You think so lowly of me.” you slowly sank down to your knees.

Your long socks weren’t long enough to cover your knees and neither was your skirt, which meant you’d have some serious sore knees later. But it didn’t matter, not when you needed to redeem yourself to your boyfriend.

Sunghoon's eyes widened as you sank to your knees in front of him, now face to face with the prominent tent in his pants he had tried to hide from you moments ago.

“This isn't proving anything yet," he managed to spit out, his tone shakier than ever.

Instead of verbally replying, something you know would only lead to yet another fight, you decided to lower his pants.

Sunghoon wasn’t average, he was thick and long, something you had tried to cope with over the time you dated. Because it hurt, but it hurt so good.

As his boxers and pants fell down to his ankles, his cock sprung free, proud and red in front of you.

“Are you such a slut?” He asked, even if his hands gently gathered your hair so you wouldn’t dirty them “Going to your knees to resolve everything, uh?”

You rolled your eyes and began giving kitten kisses to his prominent bulge, making Sunghoon shiver.

Your hand wrapped around his cock, and you pumped him painfully slowly.

He let out a soft groan in response, especially when your finger brushed against a certain vein that had his hips buck.

Your lips enfolded his angry tip, tasting the salty precum “Fuck,” Sunghoon sighed.

Impatient, and still irritated by your argument, he gripped your hair and pushed his length deep inside your throat.

You gagged at the sudden action, trying to take deep breaths not to actually retch your breakfast.

You looked up at him with an annoyed gaze, making your boyfriend chuckle “Can’t take it?”

You hummed, sending vibrations through his whole body as you bobbed your head back and forth.

Sunghoon leaned his own against the locker, his other hand flexing as he got lost in the pleasure you were giving him.

You pulled away to gather your breath, saliva and spit coating your lips. It was such a hot sight for Sunghoon.

You cleaned your mouth and used your saliva to lubricate his shaft, pumping him and then taking him again.

You tried not to gag again around him, using one of your hands to help you where you couldn’t reach.

“Good girl.” Sunghoon murmured, slowly going back to his usual self.

You smirked around his cock and pushed your head deeper, feeling his thick tip hitting the back of your throat.

Sunghoon let out a low moan, “Fuck, just like that.” he breathed out, “Bet that guy would dream of having you like this, mh? Should I take a picture and send it to him?”

You shook your head, but at the idea of Sunghoon being so jealous he’d even snap a picture while you were sucking his dick aroused you. You squeezed your thighs together to soothe the aching feeling in your core.

“Keep going,” Sunghoon changed as he matched your pace with his own thrust, each one almost making you gag, “Your mouth was made to suck my dick.”

It was a challenge, but you’d endure it if it meant soothing the beast that lay under his skin. Your beast, your demon.

When you felt his legs tremble, you knew he was close, so you hollowed your cheeks and let him fuck into your mouth.

One of your hands dropped limp while you used the other to palm his balls, adding to the already overwhelming pleasure he was feeling.

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum, baby.” He said, trying and failing to get you to move away.

You were all dolled up for school, and he had already messed up your hair, he didn’t want to stain your uniform with his cum, however erotic such an image was.

You let out a disapproving hum, which was enough to send him over the edge.

“Ah— Shit.” His cock twitched in your mouth as you wrapped your lips around his length and swallowed all off his seed, greedily taking every drop.

His hips bucked weakly a couple of times before you pulled away and licked your lips.

Standing up on wobbly legs, you took a tissue from the pocket of your skirt and cleaned your mouth, as well as some smudged make up.

“You didn’t have to swallow it.” Sunghoon said as he tucked his softened cock inside his pants, “I know how much you don’t enjoy it.”

It was true. You thought it was gross to swallow whenever you gave him head, but you also knew how much he loved it. He loved when you took his cum, when you gave him a reason to claim you.

“If I didn’t want to swallow, I wouldn’t have done it.” You replied, fixing your hair and taking your discarded backpack.

Just in time, the bell rang. Being the (hopefully) soon-to-be school president, you couldn’t manage to arrive late to class, so you tiptoed and pressed a quick peck on Sunghoon’s lips.

“I’ll see you after school, yeah?” You murmured, smirking when you noticed how flustered he was, “I’ll let you take me in whatever position you want.”

Sunghoon shook his head, wrapping a strong arm around your waist and pressing a hot kiss to your mouth. Argument long forgotten, “Where did I find you?”

You wiggle your brows “In your wildest dreams.”

[domesticgoddess22]

banana creampie

a thanksgiving one shot

pairing: dbf!joel miller x fem!reader summary: Your dad is hosting Thanksgiving this year, and he's invited his closest friends, including Joel Miller, who drives you to get ingredients for your famous banana cream pie. warnings: dbf!joel, age gap (early 20s/mid 40s), car sex, unprotected piv, daddy kink, breeding kink, cowgirl, rough sex, creampie, daddy issues, TLOU AU no outbreak, dubcon, praise kink word count: 3.3k rating: explicit MDNI

Happy Holidays <3 This is a little something I cooked up on Thanksgiving day, so I hope you enjoy it. Sorry it isn't edited yet.

~~~~~~~~

Rays of orange spilled across the living room carpet, the sun peeking through the curtains that ebbed and flowed to the cool Austin breeze. The slivers of the light that dotted the couch warmed your bare legs, still shining from the lotion you lathered yourself up with. You turned the TV volume to blasting to overpower the chaotic sounds of your dad’s cooking. 

“You gonna get dressed and help your old man out here, kiddo?” Your dad’s head poked out from around the archway that led to the kitchen, a greasy spatula in hand and your brow furrowed at the drips that now splattered on the white tile.

“I am dressed,” you contested, eyes rolling into the back of your head. You just came back from college, celebrated your twenty-second birthday even, but your dad would always see you as a kid.

He frowned, eyes closing as he shook his head in disapproval before dipping back into the kitchen. It would take some getting used to, your new attire since coming back from NYU, that is. If there’s one thing your fashion degree taught you, it’s how to dress. You wore a juniper green corset top, laced up from the front and tied together to display your breasts nicely. The top was fashioned with a black, skin tight mini skirt with a slit along the right thigh, leaving little to the imagination.

You groaned, rolling off the couch lazily, but careful enough not to ruin your hair. Big, glossy curls cascaded down your back, bouncing slightly as you stood. There was a bow as red as wine that held your hair together in a half updo, so any cream from the pie you were about to make wouldn’t splash into your hair.

You dragged your feet to the kitchen, cracking open the pantry and digging for the ingredients to make your famous banana cream pie. 

“So whose all comin’ again?” You asked, eyeing the recipe to determine if you should still double the portions. You knew your dad’s friends were comin’, they always did, but you figured you’d check and make sure there wasn’t any changes.

“Donna and Rick, Keith, Rob,” your dad began listing off his friends, cursing when a splash of sausage grease sprayed his arm. “Oh yeah, and Joel and Sarah are comin’.”

Your eyes widened. “Oh?” You tried to come off casual, like your heart wasn’t about to burst in your chest at the sound of your dad’s best friend–the hottest guy on the block. “Thought they were goin’ to Tommy’s this year?” 

“They were, but Tommy and Maria are sick, so there’s been a change of plans,” your dad said, oblivious to how Joel’s name reddened your cheeks.

“That okay?” Your dad finally asked when you didn’t say anything.

“‘Course, why wouldn’t it be?”

“I guess I forgot to tell ya with all the holiday craziness, it must of slipped my mind. Do you have enough ingredients to make your little tart?”

“Pie,” you corrected. “It’s a banana cream pie, dad.” You chewed your cheek, annoyed with his inability to pay any attention to you.

“Right, of course, of course. Do you have everything you need?” He’s half focused on checking the turkey now, the oven door screeching at the hinges as he stabs a thermometer into the near-browning meat.

“Actually, I’m gonna need more cream if I double this recipe.” You frowned, thinking about how you’d need to run to the store on Thanksgiving day and fight traffic and long lines. Not to mention, you haven’t gotten your license yet, there was no need for it in New York with all the subways and taxi cabs. 

“Call Joel ‘n ask him to be a doll and pick some up for you ‘fore he gets here.”

You slipped back into the living room, away from the hiss of sausages cooking, and flipped your phone open. Joel picked up, the sound of his rumbly voice left you forgetting what it was you called for in the first place.

“Hey, darlin’. What do you need?”

“Hey. Was just wonderin’ if you could be a doll and pick up some heavy cream for me before you get here?”

You heard him laugh through his nose. “On Thanksgiving Day?” 

“The stores are open for a half-day,” you said flatly. “But I guess if you don’t want my famous banana cream pie, then don’t bother.” There was a sweet, playful lilt to your tone at the latter, but their was a shuffling sound followed by a car door slamming.

You heard the sound of the front door crank open, as old and rusty as it was, and your head whipped around to see the very man you were on the phone with. He held a case of bears in his other hand. The two of you mirrored each other, flipping your phones shut.

“Look who decided to come back from New York.” Maybe it was wishful thinking or ovulation that was playing tricks on your mind, but you swore that his eyes clung to your hips, your breasts. 

“For now.” You said, ending the conversation right then and there. You didn’t want to entertain questions about what direction your career was going in and all that bullshit that you didn’t have answers to. “So I take it you’re not gettin’ cream then?”

“Didn’t say that. 'Course I want your pie.” He smirked at you right as Sarah came flying in, a giant sack of potatoes in her hand. She nearly jumped out of her boots when she saw you, screaming your name in excitement.

“You’re here, you’re here, you’re here!” Sarah dropped the potatoes on the floor with a thump, rushing to hug you. Your arms tightened around her, breathing in the sweet, citrusy scent of her curls.

“Oh my god, I haven’t seen you in forever! And you’ve gotten so big!” It was true. Last time you saw Sarah was probably a year ago. She had just started middle school, but now she was almost as tall as you. “What, did ya hit a growth spurt or something?!” She beamed at you proudly.

“I’m 5’1” now!”

“Where’s your dad?” Joel asked.

“Kitchen. Makin’ a mess, cooking up a storm.”

“Hey bud,” you hear Joel say casually to your dad. And then you hear him say that he’s going to take you to the store, ordering Sarah to get started on the potatoes while the two of you run out. You feel your face go hot and your palms all sweaty at the thought of being alone with Joel. The two of you have never been alone before.

You rush to the side table, dotting your lips with a subtle, pink gloss. Joel strides back into the living room.

“Alright, let’s go.”

“It takes two people to go pick up some cream?” You taunt, and not quite sure why you do. Your heart was soaring at just the thought of being alone with him, and maybe it was because of that you put on the facade. The mask that you didn’t want to, just so he didn’t somehow find out that you were dying to be around him. 

“Did New York teach you to be this sassy? I liked it better when you were just Texas sassy.” He smirked, grabbing his keys and motioning for you to follow him to the front of the house to his truck parked in the driveway. Still the same old chevy. Still the same old Joel. 

“Aww, are you sayin’ you missed me?” You liked keeping up with his playful, teasing banter.

“We all did.” There was a sweet look in those big brown eyes that, for the first time, locked on yours. “Didn’t think you were gonna come back to this old town.”

“Yeah, I’m still figuring things out I guess. New York… wasn’t everything I had imagined it would be.” The thought seeped in and you felt the pang of disappointment. 

“You’re young. You have plenty of chances to try things, fuck up, and then try som’ new.” 

The engine roars to life, and you realize then that you were freezing. But it was too late to change now, Joel was already halfway down the block by the time you really gave it some thought.

“Those flimsy pieces of fabric not keepin’ you warm?” He gave you a quick side glance. He sounded like a scolding father with the way he said it. Not the same judgement as your dad, but of a similar breath, as if to say ‘I told you you shouldn’t have worn that in this weather.’ 

“I’m fine,” you scowled, but Joel must not have believed you as he cranked up the heater. 

“I have a sweatshirt in the back, you can wear that when we get out.” He jabbed a thumb toward the back of the cab, and then gave you another side glance, this time his eyes were on your thighs. “I know I ain’t your dad but–”

“No, you’re not.”

“You wear som’ like that, on a day like today, Kieth is gonna get drunk and his eyes’ll be all over you,” his face scrunched in disgust.

“I can handle Kieth,” you snorted. Kieth was your dad’s other friend, one that has been blatantly lusting after you every time you’ve come to visit. Your dad never seemed to notice, but it seemed like Joel had.

“Or…” You teased, lips pulling into a cat-like smile. “I can just let him look at me, if he wants to. He’s a decent looking guy, could probably use a little fun since he’s been divorced for what, two years now? Three?” In all honesty, if Kieth hadn’t been standing next to Joel every time he came around, you’d probably think he was the hottest guy on the block.

Joel’s grip around the steering wheel tightened. “You like him?”

“I dunno. I’m young, I don’t know what I want. I have plenty of time to fuck up.”

“My advice to you? Don’t fuck up with Keith. Guy’s a fuckin’ mess. And your dad would probably kill him.”

Your head slams back against the headrest and you let out a roaring laugh. “My dad wouldn’t even notice.” 

“He would.”

“Well, then who should I fuck up with then?”

“That’s for you to decide, darlin’.” Joel’s voice was low, his sweet Texan tang like music to your ears.

“But not really because you said I can’t have Keith, so who does that leave me with? You?” You bit your lip and smiled while Joel continued to look straight ahead at the open road. “I guess it’s only fair. It’s only been three years since Kieth’s divorce, but it’s been nearly a decade for you.”

It was quiet for a minute, and you worried that you pushed to far. Flirted to hard. You waited for him to scold you, say something and make you feel ashamed for your advances and commenting on his failed marriage.

“You’re gonna piss off your old man, sleepin’ with all his friends,” Joel finally said, and it was that comment that gave you the opening to press forward. Joel put the car in park when you pulled up to the country market, the lot nearly empty. Not quite as a packed as you thought it’d be. 

“Not all of them.” Your gaze bore down at his lap and then slowly, slowly let your eyes roam up his chest until you met his, lookin up at his through thick lashes, biting your lip. “Just one.”

He shifted in his seat, cracking open the chevy door. “Let’s get your cream.”

You wore Joel’s sweatshirt, just like he told you to. It smelled like him, a musky, woody scent that made your pulse quicken with each inhale. He trailed behind you as you all but skipped down the aisles, heading straight for the cream. You grabbed another set of bananas too, just in case you needed to top off the pie. Joel was eerily silent the entire time, and you hoped it was because he was horny, not becuase he was mad. Or maybe it was a little bit of both. You smiled devilishly at the thought.

When you dropped the bananas and cream on the belt, you pulled out a few bucks to pay for it all, but Joel’s wallet was already out, handing the cashier a few bills. “Hey, I was gonna pay for it.”

The cashier, a kind old woman, bless her soul, just smiled at the two of you. “Let daddy pay.” Your face dropped and Joel stiffened, grabbing the receipt and storming out. You tail after him, but his footsteps eat the ground, and you’re practically running to keep up.

“Woah, woah, woah! Slowdown their cowboy, I’m not used to running this much.” 

He flung the door open, jumped in the truck and took a long, deep breath. He was silent again. Joel was always a man of few words, and you always wondered what he was thinking. There were times over summer break–when you’d come back to visit, wearing nothing but a string bikini while you splashed around in his pool–you wondered if he thought of you. 

“Is everything okay?” You tore his sweatshirt off, feeling the heat build up on your skin now that something was amiss with Joel.

Joel groaned quietly, letting his elbow rest on the side door and burying his eyes in his left palm. 

“You’re so young. We shouldn’t be… shouldn’t be talkin’ like this. It ain’t right.”

“I thought we were just havin’ fun.” You said, eyebrows stitching inward at the fear of rejection.

“Yeah. Yeah, it’s fun.”

“Then what’s the problem?” An innocent question, and then your eyes trailed back down to his pants and it was then that you realized you didn’t need an answer.

“Seeing you, prancing around in your little fuckin’ skirt and your shirt that barely covers your tits… fuck. I–that’s part of why I gave you my sweatshirt. So I didn’t have to look at you and torture myself anymore.” He starts, slowly turning his gaze to look at you. “But it didn’t make a difference. You… are so fuckin’ gorgeous I can’t hide my desire. Can’t go back to your dad’s like this.” He buried his face in his palm again, wishing away his erection. 

Wetness pooled between your thighs at his confession. You felt your mouth water as you eyed the length of him through his jean, a pulsing throbbing mass that you’d give anything to have a taste of.

“Then let’s not go back like that.”

He turned back to you, slowly. You exchanged a look of mutual agreement, and as he opened his mouth to respond, you slid a leg over him and perched yourself on his lap, straddling him. Feeling the heat of him through the fabric of your panties. He rolled the sit back slowly, and then ground his hips against yours, his mouth hot on your neck, sucking and licking at your sensitive skin. The hair of his beard scraped against your chest and shoulder, but you didn’t care. 

“Baby…” he whispered into your ear, hands groping your mounds, thumbing the sensitive peaks. And then his mouth was back to sucking your neck, pulling soft moans from your lips as he did so. He slid his hand up your shirt, his calloused palm flush against your bare skin. His body heat warmed you in the cold november air.

Your moans became louder and more frequent with every fondling stroke of his hands on your breasts, your hips, and your ass. The wetness of his tongue against your neck. You cried out his name, begging, pleading him for more as your ground your hips on his lap. He groaned in approval.

“This what you want?” He asked, teasinglly pulling your pants to the side and letting his finger feel the wetness there before pulling away. 

“Yes, yes, please, please, please.”

And then he let his fingers slide along your clit before rubbing in a smooth, circular motion. “Fuck, you’re wet…” 

You moaned and begged him to continue, and your sweet cries left him thirsty for your lips. His mouth locked onto yours, tongue exploring you without any reservation. He kissed you roughly, like you belonged to him, and when you moaned at his touch between your legs, the rumbling growl that came from somewhere deep within his chest poured into your mouth. You cried out, spreading your legs as far as you could in the driver’s seat and let yourself fall into the white hot release, body convulsing as he rubbed you through your high. 

As you came too, you heard the sound of his belt unbuckling. His cock was out not even a second later, the massive, swollen head slick with precum. He was huge, both in girth and length, and you almost shied away. Worried he wouldn’t fit. But he didn’t give you time to turn back as he lifted your hips from his lap, lined up at your entrance, and then forced you down on him in one long stroke. 

“Good girl,” he said into your ear.

You screamed, biting his shoulder to hold back any other screams that might tear from your lungs and give you both away. Your hips moved on their own accord, bouncing on his cock, bigger than any dildo you’d ever used. 

“Joel… fuck me! Please, please!”

His hips bucked up, slammed into you, somehow deeper with every thrust. He growled, eyes trained on your bouncing breasts that are now exposed, the corset snug underneath them, propping them up for his pleasure. His hands found a spot on your hips, gripping you hard enough to bruise. 

He slammed into you, filling you to the brim in violent thrusts. You continued to bounce, your movements matching his but his stamina outmatched yours and you let him use your body for his pleasure. He fucked you, the truck bouncing in rhythm to his thrusts, the sound of Pink Floyd’s Shine On You Crazy Diamond playing quietly on the radio. You thanked God for the cold air fogging the windows of the truck, otherwise you’d be on display for the world.

“Come inside me, please daddy.” You begged, and then wrapped our arms around his neck and pulled him in for a kiss.

And that’s what undid him. You. Both of you. Joel bucked his hips into you in sloppy, violent thrusts. You screamed, reaching the blissful release again, screaming daddy, daddy, daddy as he took you there, pouring his white hot cream into you in an endless load. You begged him for more and he buried himself into you.

And then your body went limp against his. Once bouncy, boisterous curls now sticking to the sweat on both of your faces.

“Fuck…” Joel groaned, pulling his cock out of you. Both of you pulled yourselves back together. You combed your fingers through your hair and Joel handed you a wipe to clean yourself up. “‘M too old to be this impulsive. Look what you did to me.”

You smirked, wiping the white milk from between your legs. “And I’d do it again.”

When Joel pulled up to the driveway, you noticed more cars parked out front. “Looks like everyone else showed up.”

Keith was in the living room as you and Joel entered the house, a frown plastered on his face when he looked at you, your neck, and then cast a glance at Joel. You looked in the mirror by the door and found a hickey the size of a golfball tattooed on your neck, covering it with your curls as soon as your realized the evidence.

“Hey, look who finally came back!” Your dad strolled over, a smile on his face that you knew would be wiped away the second he found out what you did with his best friend just moments ago. “Did you get what you needed?”

“Yeah, we got the cream.”

More cream than you needed, actually.

[curiouslavellan]

referenced the Ides of March yesterday at work and got a blank stare because apparently not everyone celebrates this holiday

[twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat]

I THINK YOUR LOVE WOULD BE TOO MUCH ; SATORU GOJO

summary; satoru knows that you’re worried about something. he just doesn’t know what.

word count; 4.1k

contents; satoru gojo/reader, gn!reader, sickening amounts of fluff, (that’s literally all. that’s it. thank you for your time), you’re both down horrendous, the ”something” reader is worried about is very very silly <333, mostly satoru’s pov!!

a/n; i love this man so fucking much my chest hurts so i dug up the sappiest wip i could find in my drafts <333 you can tell i completely lost the plot halfway through but just pretend that i didn’t ok. i dedicate this to gojo nation :3

satoru feels your stare prickle at the back of his neck.

he’s rummaging through the fridge, one hand on his hip, grabbing two cans of iced tea from the bottom compartment. peach for him, lime for you. his infinity is down, the pads of his fingers meeting chilled aluminum, condensation licking at his skin.

but the goosebumps that sensation causes is nothing compared to the ones he gets from this — your stare digging into the back of his head, your attention aimed directly at him. when he turns around, closing the fridge with a bump of his hipbone, you freeze. like a deer caught in headlights. 

satoru grins.

”you checkin’ me out?”

”no,” you blurt. his smile only grows.

”aw…” he waltzes across the room, from the kitchen island to the living room, fuzzy socks against the floorboards. ”what’s up, then? something on your mind?”

with a clink, he puts the cans of tea down on the coffee table. you murmur out a breath of thanks, but make no move to reach for either of them.

now that he’s close enough to see you properly — he thinks to himself that you do look a little ill at ease. something in the crease between your brows, shying away from the eye contact he wants. something in the way your voice comes out somewhat strained.

”it’s nothing… i just —” 

you stop. gaze fleeing from his own, slipping down to your lap. he thinks you look particularly small like this. curled up on his expensive couch, curling in on yourself; gnawing at your bottom lip.

”… i’m being dumb.”

satoru hums. tilting his head, taking you in — wasting no more than a mere moment before taking action. 

you feel him plop down next to you, a shift in the weight bearing down on his couch. comforting. when you glance up, he’s smiling, patient and light. hand sneakily slipping between the cracks of your own, squeezing your palm, running his thumb over the ridges of your knuckle.

”wanna tell me about it?”

from behind the black layer of glass obscuring your frame, satoru watches you intently. watches your expression shift, drinking in the twitch of your brows, how the colour of your eyes flickers in the light. the way your soul sulks and sputters under the weight of his all-seeing gaze. 

you part your lips. slowly, searching for the right words — only to close them again.

you try once more. hesitant. 

all you can manage is a frustrated huff.

”it’s nothing, honestly,” you’re quick to backtrack, wincing inwardly. ”i've just… been thinking. i guess.”

a hum. his smile doesn’t waver. ”about what?”

you avert your gaze. biting your lip, again, turning away from him; resting your chin on the heel of your palm. avoiding his stare like it could turn you to stone. he barely picks up on the words you murmur, flowing out beneath your breath.

”i... can't tell you.”

satoru raises a brow. 

a moment passes. two, three — the silence is telling. you can hear the discontentment in his voice, despite his attempts to mask it.

”why not?”

”i… haah.” you scoot away, just a little more, turning away so he can’t dissect your expression the way he’d like to. ”i just can’t, okay?”

silently, silently, he observes you. the little of you he can see, at the very least; fixating on the side of your face, your cheek, those fluttering eyelashes. as if it could tell him something. you can’t see the way his eyes narrow, behind his shades, black glass shielding you from the weight of his scrutiny.

satoru bites back a huff. 

curiosity and impatience aside, he feels offended. thoroughly so. he doesn't like it when you shut him out, like this, when you don’t allow him to soothe you.

your relationship has been a slow one — steady, a kind of settling in he never thought he’d experience. calm waves lapping along the edges of smooth sand, washing away tiny pebbles and handfuls of sea glass; delicately coming closer. getting him used to the sensation before gently urging him to take a dip. 

that’s the kind of love you share. 

so it stings, a little, when you won’t let him return the favour. it stings in the same way his phantom scars itch on cold nights.

he knows opening up isn't easy. for you, for anyone, least of all for him — but he still finds himself feeling a little bit dejected. because he's supposed to be your safe space. the person you can trust with absolutely anything.

(if he can’t be that, for you, then what the hell is he even good for?)

he can’t help but feel the slightest tug of worry, too. seeing the tight line of your closed lips, that hardness of your expression. the unmistakable stress accumulating in the corners of your eyes.

but he doesn’t voice that worry. he simply gives your hand another squeeze, and smiles a little wider.

”try me.”

a sigh flows from your lips. ”you don't get it, satoru.”

your voice has a bite to it, now, just a little harsh. something akin to a soft hiss — defensiveness, he ultimately settles on. but why?

”it’s —” you muster up a glance his way, the slightest little peek, before turning away again. blurting out the words on the tip of your tongue. ”it’s so fucking embarrassing. you’ll laugh.”

satoru blinks.

”… huh?”

”you’ll laugh, and you'll tease me, and — ” he feels your hand slip from his own, muffling a groan as it covers your face. ”i’ll never live it down.”

you’re hiding, squirming, and satoru’s curiosity increases at an alarming rate. he leans forward, trying to catch a glimpse of your face, but you don’t let him. 

now he’s nothing short of intrigued.

”i won't,” he says, simply. voice as clear as glass. you scoff into your hands.

”you will!”

”i promise you i won't laugh.”

”you always say that.” a sigh falls from your lips, deep and heavy, as your hands finally slip down to your lap. ”but you never mean it. you’ll laugh so much. i know you will.”

you bite down on your lip. he wants to cup your jaw and kiss you, mend the bruising with a swipe of his tongue — but he tactfully decides against it.

”it’s — it's so…” you trail off, fidgeting with your hands, nervously linking your fingers together. gazing down with a pout. ”so stupid.” 

”baby…”  his voice takes on a fond tone, tender and patient. everything he strives to be, when it comes to you; you and you alone. ”c’mon. you can tell me anything.” 

with a sense of delicacy, he takes your hands into his bigger ones. tucking them into his palms, bringing them into his own lap — meeting your meek eyes. 

”right?”

through the blue of his gaze, he watches you falter. watches your eyes soften, crumbling a little, as you silently weigh your options. you look flustered.

then you slowly part your lips.

”you’re gonna think i’m just joking, or whatever, but — but i mean it. i’m…” your throat bobs with a shallow gulp. ”i’m seriously worried.” 

satoru nods. ”i’ll take you seriously.”

you look up. all you’re met with is a reassuring smile, familiar dimples, the slightest hint of a kind blue behind his shades.

and you finally give in.

”i… i think i might —”

shifting and squirming, your gaze flits from spot to spot, hands still intertwined with his own. you’re caged in, forced to face him, and it only adds to your nervosity. his eyes never leave your face.

”i think… i…”

your voice comes out sounding tiny. gaze stuck to the couch beneath you, as your lips form around the right syllables, and you finally blurt out out the words you've been trying to keep at bay —

”i think i love you too much.”

…

silence.

you still refuse to meet his gaze. a red hue crawls up your neck, spreading to the tips of your ears, heartbeat pounding under your ribs. the sentence spills out of your lips like an arrow; so rushed he barely deciphers it in time.

before the silence can swallow you whole, you continue. trying not to stammer, holding back an embarrassed wince. pouting softly, brows furrowed as your clammy hands twitch anxiously against his own. ”like... to the point where… it drives me a little insane.”

and then you wait. with bated breath, too embarrassed to look up, bottom lip tensing and softening between your teeth. dreading the explosive reaction he’ll undoubtedly give you.

… except it doesn’t come.

he’s not saying a word. nothing. the silence is so deafening you could cut it in half, lingering, festering in the air around you. all you hear is your own stupid, erratic little heartbeat — refusing to settle down. 

a couple painful moments pass, before you physically can't take it anymore.

as slowly as you can muster, your gaze travels upwards — from his lap to his chest to his exposed collarbone, until his face finally enters your field of vision. you can’t resist the temptation.

(why is he being so quiet? satoru is never quiet.)

you meet his gaze. or what you think is his gaze, anyhow, because you can’t see the way his eyes are squeezed shut. what you do notice is the twitch of his lips, quivering ever so slightly, as if unsure of which direction to go — and you know one of satoru’s sharp teeth must be biting down hard to keep them in place. his shoulders are shaking, only barely, and he breathes out sharply through his nose; in a desperate attempt to keep his promise.

desperately struggling to maintain his composure. 

he makes the mistake of opening his eyes, and all that effort goes down the drain. met with the sight of your flushed face, wide eyes, shining with embarrassment and disbelief. 

like a stack of cards blown over by the wind, satoru’s poker face crumbles. he fails to bite back the wide grin that breaks out across his lips, showing off the white of his teeth, and a soft bout of fresh laughter flows from out his lips.

you gape at him. 

then your brows furrow, harshly, and you choke on a scoff. with a start, you’re scrambling to stand up, tugging your hands away from his. 

”see?” you hiss, almost tripping over your own two feet as you shoot up from the couch. ”i told you! you're laughing!”

(you sound so embarrassed he thinks he might cry.)

satoru gives up. laughter reverberating throughout his entire body, deep and loud, from the very bottom of his gut — enough to have him clutching at his sides. that only makes you flush deeper, glare harder, and all he can think is that he wants to kiss you silly.

”you promised!”

”i’m —” he chokes on a sharp wheeze, one hand reaching out to keep you from leaving. ”i’m sorry, baby, i —”

but he only ends up doubling over. sputtering with laughter, feeling the leather of the couch meet his cheek. you turn away sharply, and he pulls himself up again. ”wait — sweetheart —” 

a fond chuckle rumbles through his chest, his long arms circling around your waist and pulling you into his embrace. caging you in. you struggle helplessly, trying desperately to break free, but it’s useless — he’s the strongest for a reason.

all you can do is writhe and grumble under your breath, inhaling a familiar scent of vanilla and musk. the fabric softener he uses puts your senses hopelessly at ease, but he’s still laughing — so you can’t help but kick and struggle seamlessly.

”let me go, satoru!”

said man chokes on another little laugh, shoulders shaking, tucking you so close he can feel the pitter patter of your heartbeat against his stomach. you’re so upset with him. but he can’t stop, can't reel it back in, and every weak punch to his chest and muffled protest just makes his composure feel more out of reach. he tried his best. 

he really, really did. 

he tried so hard not to laugh.

(”i think i love you too much.”)

god. just what is he supposed to do with you, huh?

”i’m sorry,” he grins, almost entirely out of breath. ”’m not doing it on purpose, you're just —” 

a sudden fit of giggles. 

"you're so cute.”

”satoru, it’s — not funny,” you whine, practically burning up. every single sound he makes buzzes in your ear. ”i’m serious. i —”

you squeeze your eyes shut. giving in, finally, allowing yourself to melt into his arms. limbs losing their feistiness. he delights in the sensation.

”you don't get it.”

it’s a whisper, muffled against the fabric of his shirt, but he hears it nonetheless. deep breaths, he reminds himself. it’s hard to take such an adorable confession seriously, but he tries. for whatever reason, you genuinely sound troubled. 

”wait, so you —” he bites back an amused breath, but can’t hide the palpable smile in his voice. ”you love me… too much?”

a groan. you hide away, nuzzling further into his chest; your safe harbour. 

”… i told you it was embarrassing.”

”it’s not,” he’s quick to console you. ”i’m just confused.” a big palm glides across the back of your head, smoothing down your tousled hair. he pats your head softly. ”i mean…” 

a deep inhale. his heartbeat finally settles into a calm rhythm, slow and steady, lungs flooding with oxygen. he breathes out through his nose.

”is that really such a bad thing?”

”it is.” a frown finds its way onto your lips. your reply is instantaneous. ”i don’t think it’s normal. i’m just…”

satoru listens. patiently, feeling your fingers grip onto the edges of his shirt — comforting yourself with the soft fabric. then you sigh.

”i don’t know. i just can’t, like…” you grapple for the right word, moving your hands haphazardly, blurting out the first thing that comes to mind. ”comprehend how much i love you.”

satoru bites back a smile. 

(his heart flutters, flutters, flutters, like cherry blossoms on a windy spring morning.)

before he has the chance to, you part your lips again; speaking in a soft voice. resigned, he thinks. ”it’s just weird. it’s not exactly bad, but —” 

you bite down on your lip. 

”... it’s scary.”

a soft coo buzzes in your ear. satoru can’t help but pull you closer, closer still, smothering you in the warmth of his embrace. conveying what he knows will be too much for you to hear in words — what he knows he couldn’t convey in the language that you speak. you feel warm, still burning up a bit. like a little firefly. 

he isn’t faring much better, though; a vague heat blooming under the skin of his nape. smiling so wide his cheeks are starting to hurt.

(what on earth did he do to deserve you?)

a firm jaw settles on the top of your head. satoru parts his glossy lips, voice flowing out somewhat breathlessly, affectionate as can be. 

”don’t you think i feel exactly the same about you?”

his pulse trembles against you. when you strain your ears, you can hear the rhythmic thumping of his heartbeat, mingling with your own; still resounding in your ears. 

”… i dunno.”

satoru’s hold around you tightens, ever so slightly. something in the way he cradles you, strong arms around your waist, a low hum accompanying the light squeeze of his limbs. he can’t see your face, from this angle, but his pupils still flicker downwards — hungry for a glimpse of your expression.

then he smiles. 

”i’m terrified of you, y’know?”

you blink. once, then twice, eyelids fluttering. a moment of silence passes.

”… huh?”

”beyond terrified, actually,” his smile builds into a grin. ”i’m getting goosebumps just thinking about it. no one scares me more than you do.”

satoru pulls away, just a little, just enough to finally get a good look at you. your eyes are brimming with confusion. a large palm goes to cradle your cheek, and he tilts his head — inhaling a breath.

”i love you so much that it hurts.”

…

a soft chuckle slips from out his lips, when he catches your flustered, wide-eyed stare. sneaking a hand towards the small of your back, leaning in to press a kiss against the apple of your cheek.

”i adore you,” he whispers, smooth syllables melting into a purr. you stiffen under his touch. his fingertips trace the lines of your jaw, lips trailing down to your neck, chaste and sweet as he nips at the sensitive skin. muttering under his breath. ”you have no idea.”

and you truly, truly don't. satoru doesn't think you even know the half of it. 

you can’t possibly know what you mean to him — that your very presence makes him forget who he is, what he has to be, a weight on his shoulders he grew used to long ago. you can’t possibly know that just the feeling of your hand in his makes the distance between you feel so inconsequential. 

you are the most precious thing in his life. he doesn't think you could ever understand the weight that sentiment carries — he wouldn't want you to. 

and here you are, so awfully worried, because you're too in love with him. he still can't help but grin. you’re so sweet, so silly. the words make him feel as if his heart is crumbling.

”… i can't believe you’re real sometimes.”

something tender rests under the whisper. something frighteningly sincere. it makes you feel a little like you’ve been sliced open. it’s raw, it’s heavy and light and it’s love. it’s satoru — all his little inconsistencies, and the stability beneath it all. 

and some part of you knows that he's telling the truth. that he understands your ridiculous little confession, your embarrassing worries. satoru understands. 

that alone is enough to quell the turmoil in your chest. 

(what he gives you is a love as boundless as the sky; one that covers everything you could ever be. unconditional.)

”so there’s no need to worry.” 

he pulls back, lips leaving your skin. you still feel their warmth linger. his shades have slipped down, barely hanging on to the bridge of his nose, and you can see the blue of his eyes. they’re shining like jewels, soft around the edges. consumed by love.

”there’s no way you could ever love me as much as i love you.”

gazing into his eyes, as if hypnotized by their glow, your own gleam with a mesmerizing shine. glazed over with something sweet and wonderful, something satoru wants to burn into his retinas so he never forgets it. he wishes he could wring it out of you and put it in his pocket — but it looks prettier behind your cornea.

he savours the moment, slowly, until it abruptly ends.

with a second of pause, your brows draw together, forming into an irritated furrow. lips tugging downwards into a frown. ”that’s not true.”

satoru blinks. still smiling. 

”i love you way more,” you huff. petulant, almost, something soft and amused in your tone. he thinks the sound fits you more than anything; unburdened and stubborn.

(as charming as you are, though — this is one battle he refuses to lose.)

”nu-uh,” he pokes the tip of your nose, delighting in the soft flutter of your blinking eyelashes. ”i love you more. sorry, sweetie.”

a huff. ”you don't.”

”i do.”

”you don't."

this time, you're the one reaching out, the pad of your finger landing on the tip of satoru’s nose — teasingly trailing up to the bridge of it. his heartbeat stutters, but he feigns nonchalance, raising an unimpressed brow; eyes unknowingly gleaming with mirth. 

and mischief.

you barely have time to react. one moment you're seated on satoru’s lap, the next you're looking up at him with your back against the couch. he towers over you, keeping your hands pinned above your head with a single palm. 

a familiar chill runs down your spine.

”i do,” he grins, free hand reaching towards you. recognizing the danger of a situation you've been in more times than you can count, you try to squirm away — but you don't get very far.

satoru’s fingers ghost over your sides, and panic floods your wide eyes. 

even though you know exactly what’s about to happen, a yelp still pushes past your lips when he begins to tickle you. mercilessly, fingers trailing over your most sensitive spots. all you can do is squirm, trying your damnedest to bite back the bout of laughter crawling up your throat —

but apparently neither of you are very good at that.

when the familiar cling of your laughter finally spills past your lips, flowing into satoru’s ears, his smile blooms into a grin. big and happy, childish in its innocence — not even attempting to hide his joy. his own giggles melt into your soft wheezes and desperate pleas, as you struggle to break free, straining against the firm hold he has on your wrists.

”i love you way, way, way more,” he continues to tease, halting his movement just enough to let you catch your breath. ”it’s not even close.”

even as giggles breathlessly spill from your lips, you manage a shake of your head. ”no, you —”

”wrong answer.”

he cuts you off with a smirk, and the torture starts anew. you can't get the words out, caught in your throat and muffled by a loud squeak, followed by forced laughter. satoru watches, in pure adoration, waiting for the moment you finally relent. 

it doesn’t take long.

”f — fine, fine!”

he stills. eyes crinkled, shades barely hanging on to the bridge of his nose, fighting the urge to keep going. if only so he can hear your melodic giggles.

”can’t we —” you struggle to catch your breath, words stuck between bouts of leftover laughter. cheeks flushed and chest heaving. ”just call it a tie?”

satoru pauses. he drags it out, exaggerated, building up suspense. eyes narrowing playfully. ”hmmm…” 

then he smiles. a soft, resigned little thing. 

”alright, alright.” he leans forward, keeping you in place. ”that works, i guess.”

and then his lips meet yours. soft and glossy, tasting of cherries, a pleased sigh against your mouth. you’re still panting a little, but he doesn’t seem to mind — slow to pull away, with a drawn out mwah, grinning boyishly at your disheveled state. he lets your wrists go free.

an unimpressed look is all you give him, quick to melt into a soft chuckle. 

”well, that’s that.” you push yourself up with your elbows, fixing your tousled hair. ”now we can forget this ever happened.”

satoru raises a brow. 

”oh, i dunno about that,” he purrs, voice ripe with mischief. a teasing glint flashes in his eyes, as he scrutinizes you, and it’s enough to have your face heating up again. the sight makes him coo. ”you love me so much you can't comprehend it, huh?”

you blink. it takes a moment for your expression to shift, from bafflement to embarrassment — but he thinks it’s all worth it when it does. barely restraining the urge to kiss you again.

”satoru…”

a giggle leaves his lips. reaching a hand out, he pinches your cheek. ”you’re cute.”

with a roll of your eyes, you swat him away; unable to bite back a smile. “quit it.”

”aw.”

he looks so smug. you can’t help but want to bite back, somehow — so you muster up your most shit-eating grin, a distinctly teasing lilt coating your sugar-sweet voice. 

”you love me so much that it hurts, huh?”

satoru blinks.

endearment blooms, in the depths of his cerulean eyes. he watches you carefully, awfully amused — thinking to himself that he must be rubbing off on you. what a scary thought.

”yeah,” he breathes, a sigh laced with sincerity. cupping your cheek with the palm of his hand, settling on the option he knows will fluster you most. ”i do.”

this time, you’re the one who blinks. once, twice, before letting out a groan — slumping against his broad frame. satoru chuckles, breathlessly, consumed by you; by every move you make. all six of his eyes aimed directly at you.

(if he gives you the sky, then what you give him is a love as steady as the ocean; one that’ll drown every bit of his sadness. entirely unyielding.)

”can’t you ever just let me win?” you mutter, breathing in his cologne and tugging at his shirt. pressed up against him, on his couch, safe and secure. right where you should be.

he noses at your neck, pressing a little kiss against your pulsepoint. a quiet, quiet offering at the altar of your soul. ”nope,” he hums, smiling cheekily. 

”i love you too much for that.”

[saetoru]

✩ ‧₊˚ ✩ 4:08 AM — GOJO SATORU.

contents. fluff, established relationships, sleepy n cuddly toru :(, just needed to write this to cope with the 236 manga leaks i guess. i just love him tons sobs i need him happy and loved and peaceful

“hey,” you poke satoru’s chest, hearing a low groan rumble under your cheek, “toru?”

“hmm?” oh. he sounds a little tired—maybe you should let him sleep.

“you awake?” you ask anyway.

“am now,” he mumbles—well, he’s already awake, so you might as well indulge in it now. “need somethin’, sweetheart?”

“jus’ missed you is all,” you pout—that makes him grin despite the way he yawns, all wide and smooth even as he fights the sleep in his eyes. you feel just a bit guilty, reaching to cup his cheek and running a thumb over his eyelid carefully.

“yeah?” he chuckles quietly, “‘m right here. you still miss me?”

“yeah,” you whisper, “always miss you. even when you’re right here.”

satoru’s grinning into your cheek as he leans down and presses a wet kiss to the skin—he can’t possibly be mad that you’ve woken him so late. he can’t be mad when it’s you, and it’s him, and it’s each other.

sleep can wait, there’s always time for that later. but there’s never a moment where he wants to risk counting on later when it comes to you.

“what’d you miss about me?” he hums, nibbling on your earlobe as his head buries into your neck. you shift, letting his body tuck against yours as your arms wrap around him—he feels safe like this, somehow. infinity doesn’t make him feel nearly as secure as the way your arms do, tight and warm and made just for holding him.

“dunno,” you murmur, “everything.”

“love me that much?” he asks cheekily, “me sleeping right beside you isn’t enough?”

“no,” you huff, “you can’t pay attention to me in your sleep.”

“my needy baby,” he snickers, rubbing circles into the small of your back with his large palm. he’s warm against you—you can feel the rhythm of his heart as it beats against your body. he’s pressed so close to you, that not even air can slip through the cracks.

truthfully, you don’t know why you wake satoru. you don’t know why you can’t sleep—you just know that you need him. here. now. always. forever. more and more and more and even more.

“toru?” you ask quietly, making him hum as his eyes droop back shut slowly—he must really be tired.

you stare at him fondly, stroking his hair as he sighs happily at the feeling. and then you press a kiss to his forehead, to his cheek, to the corner of his eyes where they crinkle when he smiles, and to those lips of his that always find yours no matter how long it takes.

he always comes back to you. always. he never won’t—that much you trust.

“got somethin’ on your mind, baby?” he asks slowly, voice thick with sleep. you giggle, scratching at his scalp as he smiles lightly.

he dozing off—you watch him, hopelessly endeared.

“i love you,” you whisper, “need you to know that. love you so, so much. kay?”

he cracks an eye open—stares at you like you’re the reason his heart ever started beating, like you’re the only one that could ever command it to stop. every inch of his face is laced with love so gentle, you can see the way it makes his skin glow.

you love him. you’re sure he loves you. that’s all you need to know it’ll be fine. everything else is an afterthought—just as long as you have satoru.

“woke me just to confess your love for me?” he gasps, “you’re down bad. real, real bad. i must be a super handsome, totally awesome boyfriend. i do try,” he says cheekily.

you giggle, rolling your eyes as you pinch his cheek.

“be humble, you jerk,” you say exasperatedly.

it sounds more like you’re in love. too much fondness slipping into your voice that it might make your teeth hurt from how sweet. satoru’s always had a sweet tooth, though—he accepts your love graciously, like it’s never too much.

if fact, it might just not be enough. he needs more, more, more.

“can’t,” he says slowly, yawning again, “you waking me up just to love me is a bit ego boosting.”

“this was a mistake,” you scoff—its playful, it’s fond. it sounds like deeply falling headfirst.

“aw c’mon,” he pouts—and then he’s brushing his lips against your neck a he clings closer to you, curling into your body with his six-foot-something stature as you pull the blanket tighter around him, “love you too. what was it you said again? oh, right—so, so much.”

“good,” you hum, nodding in satisfaction. “you better.”

“i do,” he chuckles, “can i sleep now? or are we gonna start talking about all the things we love about each other? cause i can stay up to listen to that, of course.”

“go to sleep, you idiot,” you scoff.

he grins. you press one last kiss to his forehead as you count the soft breaths he takes while he falls back asleep.

you love him—it’s all you ever want to do.

i cried while writing this and i cried thinking about the leaks and i cried while reading the leaks and i cried and cried and i’m tired of crying. gege when i catch you gege 🔫

[3verythingiknowaboutlove]

the limit does not exist!

how spencer helps college!reader understand a little calculus and therefore understand how he loves her.

MDNI | smut word count: 1931 warnings & tags & stuff: fem reader, fingering, oral sex (f receiving), lil bit of overstim hehe, pure unbridled affection, LOVE, FLUFF, hugging, reader cries, this was in fact meant to be written for spence's birthday... sorry about that school is kicking my butt lets just pretend it's october! author's note: this one is for my folks who HATE their calculus class and want spencer reid to give them head instead <3 maybe this can help you romanticize it a bit. i think this is classified as self indulgent…like REALLY self indulgent… hah... anyway i hope you enjoy! let me know your thoughts if u have any, i loveeeee you!! have a great day my hands are shaking posting this smut is so scary!!!!!

You sat in bed, staring down your notebook, eyes narrowed. Limits stared back at you. You were just about at your own limit, if you were being honest. 

Your brain, however sharp and witty it may be, is absolutely not one designed for calculus. A literary analysis essay? Done in half an hour. In depth scientific research project? Easiest months of your life. But there’s something about finding the instantaneous rate of change of a curve at one point in time by finding the slope of a tangent line that hasn't clicked yet. 

A slew of other papers- notes, practice worksheets printed from obscure websites, and formulas- surround you, a sea of unfinished thoughts from the past month of the semester.

You bite on the end of your pen, the little hope you had for a good grade in this class slipping further and further away with each passing moment, like the last ember dying in the remains of a fire.

What you really wanted to be doing was celebrating Spencer’s birthday with him right now. A chocolate cake lay on the kitchen counter and pasta simmers on the stove, but you and your boyfriend had agreed to do a solid hour of work before the celebrations ensued.

You were never particularly strong willed when it came to following through on such agreements.

“Teach me calculus,” you say, a very impressive three minutes later, flopping down on the couch. Your head makes its way to its forever resting spot, Spencer’s lap. He raises his eyebrows slightly, thumb reaching out to trace over the slope of your nose. His eyes flit between you and the file to the side of him. 

“I thought we agreed on an hour.”

“Yeah. But it wouldn’t be a very productive hour if I didn’t know how to do what I have to do. And I missed you.” 

He sighs quietly, closing the file next to him. 

“What do you not understand?” You smile at that, loving how quickly you won.

“Related rates. Like, conceptually.” 

Spencer hums in response.

“It’s October. You’re not even supposed to know related rates yet.”

“Fine. Then let's open presents,” you respond, smiley. His eyebrows get impossibly higher, hand stroking your cheek delicately.

“No. I want our night to be a little more stress free when we celebrate, okay? How about you think about that lovely cake you made for me. What if I decided to squash it so that the diameter would get bigger, going from…let’s say, 20 centimeters to 26 centimeters in 3 seconds, and the height would get smal-”

“That wouldn't be nice. It took me like four hours,” you interrupt, grumbling. He cracks a smile.

“For the sake of the example, let's say I was an awful boyfriend and really wanted to ruin all the hard work you put in for me.”

You roll your eyes.

“Hey,” he says, hand moving down to touch your jaw softly. “Don’t do that. Don’t be difficult. I’m helping you.”

“Sorry. I guess I need you to zoom out a little. I don’t really get why I’m learning this as a whole.” Spencer’s eyes pore into yours, staring down at you adoringly for a small moment as he comes up with an answer.

“Calculus helps us begin to explain the unexplainable by harnessing what we can,” Spencer says simply. “Einstein once said that, ‘Pure mathematics is, in its way, the poetry of logical ideas,’ which makes it simple in practice, but I actually like to think about it as the opposite philosophically. Trying to find logic in the more poetic ideas.”

You cuddle deeper in his lap.

“Think he would agree with that?” you ask. “I do answer to Einstein before you, unfortunately.” Spencer bends down to kiss your hair.

“I think so. He also had a really nice quote where he remarked that, ‘Gravitation cannot be held responsible for people falling in love.’ He said, ‘How on earth can you explain in terms of chemistry and physics so important a biological phenomenon as first love? Put your hand on a stove for a minute and it seems like an hour. Sit with that special girl for an hour and it seems like a minute. That's relativity.’”

Spencer takes a deep breath.

“Math doesn’t explain how I love you. It can’t. But I love the fact that it tries to. It kinda makes you wanna learn it as best you can.”

You process that for a long second and nod. He keeps talking.

… 

Presents get opened, and cake gets eaten before dinner. Of course.

You’re now in bed, on top of the covers, forcing Spencer to give you a fashion show of the new sweater vest and tie you got him. He turns to you after putting it on, and you beam. 

“I really like it. You look great. Do you like it?” you ask. He nods, smiling back at you.

“I’m gonna wear it to work tomorrow.” 

You beckon for Spencer to come closer, sitting up in bed. Your hands go out to the tie, tugging at the knot softly. He stares down at you until eventually interrupting your motions with a slow kiss, hands cupping your face.

“You’re so pretty,” he mutters.

He pulls away and finishes what you started, folding the tie neatly and setting it in the drawer. Then comes the vest, and soon enough, he’s just in his boxers.

“You’re the pretty one,” you say quietly. “Come to bed.” He crawls on next to you, tugging you into his arms. “Happy birthday, Spence. I love you.” He dips his forehead to your shoulder.

“I love you.”

Before you know it, he’s shifted on top of you, moving down. Fast. You blink, hard, trying to rid your head of the hazy endorphins as you register what he’s doing.

“What? No, I was gonna do that. It’s your birthday. You don’t have to,” you protest.

“But I really, really want to, darling girl,” he murmurs back, kissing your knee and softly pushing it to the side.

You fluster and Spencer just looks at you, fingers tracing shapes on your waist, waiting for you to be ready. 

“Well. Um. Okay. If you insist. I can’t really deny the birthday boy.” Your voice is small, and a little giddy smile grows on your face. Of course Spencer Reid would want to give you head on his birthday. 

He smiles a little against the bare skin of your hip where your top meets your shorts. Then he meets your eyes. 

“You know you can, though, right?” he asks, voice a little more serious. You reach out to touch his hair softly. 

“Yeah. I know.”

Fingers hook your shorts, gently pulling them down. He presses a kiss to your thigh, and then he suddenly looks down at it. 

“Soft,” he murmurs, like he’s making a mental note. He presses another, and another, incrementally going closer and closer to your soaked through underwear. His eyebrows scrunch when he sees the wet spot. “All this from a few kisses?” 

You blush, unable to respond. 

Spencer’s fingers hook a centimeter of your underwear. “These?” he checks.

“Yes, please,” you manage. He tugs them down, silently noticing the slickness of your sex, and exhales shakily.

“How many times on average does it take for a guy to call you pretty on a given day before you get annoyed?” he murmurs, soft smile playing on his face. You smile too, head cloudy from his words, but it immediately drops when his lips press directly against your pulsing clit, kissing it softly.

“Fuck,” you say (Spencer would argue moan) softly (loudly). You let out a content sigh, and he moves to suckle it, actions becoming less and less delicate. 

It’s not harsh, but incessant. Spencer knows what you can take. He knows exactly what you can take. You’re both quiet for a bit, save for your breathy moans. 

“Spencer,” you say softly, ripping you both out of your individually hazy and dirty and distracted minds. “You’re too far away.” He looks up to you, face parallel to your aching core, hair beautifully messy and mouth glistening.

After a second, he grabs your hips, gently pushing you up against the pillows so you’re propped up at a better angle. He then shifts his body up wordlessly so he’s more above you, dipping his head down to give you a soft kiss. You taste yourself, tongue darting out to lick your lips.

His hand takes over where his mouth was, sliding in between your folds with a practiced ease. Spencer looks down at you, eyes wide and flitting between yours, searching for a reaction.

You reach out and wrap your arms around him, holding him close. “Holy shit, I love you,” you murmur.

His fingers lightly graze your clit again before one slides into you. “Angel,” he breathes out, so quietly. “I love you too. This okay? Are you okay?”

You nod feverishly and lift your hips to meet his hand, always in a perpetual state of wanting more, to be closer. Your bodies are melded so close together, barely giving him room to push his hand into you. He doesn’t even bother to ask you to use your words or keep your hips down, like he might on a regular night.

He pulls his head back to watch as he pushes another finger into you, stretching you just a little. “There we go. You always feel like heaven around me.”

Your eyes flit up to his face as he says those words, now having a little more room to observe him. You focus on the slope of his nose and curve of his mouth. 

“You’re so perfect,” you say quietly, adoringly, before you even realize it was true.

You blink at that thought. Spencer Reid is perfect, despite whatever universal odds deeming that impossible.

Those graphs, those formulas, now laying discarded & crumpled on the ground. They click, a little bit. You understand why Albert Einstein wanted to spend his life developing theories of relativity.

This is how Spencer sees you? What he was talking about earlier?

This is how he sees you?

The thought is almost too much.

Spencer sees your face, and not knowing what's going on in your head, slides down his free hand from your cheek to your carotid, feeling your racing pulse. “Take a deep breath for me, okay? You're about to come, huh?”

You inhale and are met with peace. Then your orgasm hits you like a wave. You clench hard around his fingers, and he just watches it happen, fascinated. “Baby,” he coos softly at you.

It wasn’t just your sensitivity he’s currently maximizing on or the little kisses he dips down to leave on your neck that sealed the deal, but the very thought that you could be loved in a way that is so perfectly impossible.

You exhale breathily as Spencer pushes you through the last trails of your climax, fingers not caring one bit that you just had your world tilted on its axis. 

“Spencer. Ohmygodohmygodohmygod,” you say eventually, overstimulated.

“You’re okay. Did so good.” he murmurs, fingers slipping out of you. 

His thumb brushes your cheek, wiping away a tear you didn't even realize was dripping down.

“Don’t cry, you always cry. It’s my birthday. Don’t cry on my birthday,” he whispers soothingly, affection lacing his voice.

“I’m not.” 

Another one falls. 

You reach and press out that perpetual little slope between his eyebrows with your thumb, gentle, like you might break him. “I’m not crying.”

Spencer lets you lie.

[hoshifighting]

      jeonghan + anonymous sex

— where you discover that behind the scary mask, who's eating you out, is your professor, mr. yoon.

WARNINGS: +18, smut, oral, halloween party setting, penetrative sex, oral [f. rec], dirty talk, edging, taboo, fingering.

KINKTOBER MASTERLIST

halloween at uni was always a wild time—like, the one night when everyone just let loose and acted like idiots without any shame. it was a free pass to look either insanely sexy or terrifying as hell, and you’d seen both ends of that spectrum in past years. mostly, you loved it ‘cause it was kinda like a game of guess-who after the party, everyone spending the week after trying to figure out who was who under those masks. and that’s why the costumes just got more and more wild. anonymity? sign you up.

you and jewie, your ride-or-die dormmate, had done the whole horror bit every year, rocking the most messed up, bloodied-up outfits you could think of. but this year you both decided to go full-on sexy for once. jewie was rocking this short-ass witch outfit, all black and lace and pointy hat, and you—well, you were killing it (pun intended) in your killer bunny getup. thigh-high lacy white socks that clung to your skin, corset cinching you in, and this creepy-ass bunny mask that made you look both cute and dangerous. not to mention, the whole mask thing meant anything could go down and nobody would know.

“yo, you really gonna leave a note in his locker?” jewie whispered, eyes sparkling as the two of you snuck into the staff wing, the sound of your heels echoing off the empty halls.

“hell yeah, i’ve been crushing on prof yoon since he walked into his first lecture looking like a whole-ass snack,” you hissed back, your heart racing.

she let out a cackle, almost too loud. “he’s gonna die when he sees it. also, maybe don't bend over like that unless you want your ass out for the world to see.”

you shot her a look over your shoulder, half squinting through your mask. “fuck you, i’m not gonna walk like i’ve got a stick up my ass.”

“babe, that’s your job,” she teased, slapping your ass as you fumbled with the lock on the door. she was always like that—pushy, teasing, but down for whatever dumb thing you suggested, no questions asked.

finally, you managed to crack open the door to prof yoon’s locker, and the nervous excitement flared up all over again. “i’m doin’ it,” you muttered, mostly to yourself, as you slid the note into his stuff. just a stupid little flirty note. something anonymous and mysterious. if he recognized your handwriting? well, oops. that’s a future problem.

jewie watched, leaning against the doorframe, eyes flicking between you and the locker. “if he likes it, we might need to sneak you back in here to leave more. like a killer bunny pen pal situation.”

you laughed under your breath, shaking your head. “he’s not that dumb, but if he was, i’d consider it.”

you straightened up, adjusting your mask before looking back at jewie. the whole night felt like some weird fever dream—maybe it was the booze from earlier or just the high of running around campus dressed like this, but you felt unstoppable.

“okay, let’s get outta here before we get caught,” jewie said, pushing herself off the wall. “i swear if we see anyone, i’m pretending i don’t know you.”

“bitch, please, you’d totally rat me out,” you shot back, nudging her as the two of you slipped out of the staff room, adrenaline still pumping.

you took a long sip from your pouch, the cheap booze hitting just right as you swayed along with jewie to the beat. then, mid-spin, you spotted something—or rather, someone—that made you freeze in place, your lips still wrapped around the straw.

“i can’t fucking believe it,” you muttered, pulling the straw out and sulking like a kid who just had their candy stolen.

jewie gave you a sideways glance, eyebrows raised. “what’s got your panties in a twist now?”

you nodded toward the door, where another killer bunny had just strutted in, looking way too damn good for your liking. “look at that,” you said, gesturing with your drink. “bunny? okay, fine. but killer too? are you shitting me? what’re the odds?”

you huffed, feeling your vibe slightly killed by the sight of the other guy wearing basically the same damn thing as you—except he had this slutty, fitted black suit, and his mask was just as creepy as yours, that luscious black hair peeking out from behind it.

“wow,” jewie scoffed, following your gaze. “you’re really pressed about another killer bunny? seriously? it's halloween, dude, chill. everyone’s doubling up.”

“easy for you to say,” you muttered, still eyeing the guy. “you're not the only slutty witch in the room.”

she rolled her eyes, snorting. “uh, excuse me? i've seen, like, five other witches tonight, and one of them even had a broom—a broom, y/n. i just accepted it. it’s halloween.”

it was halloween, and sure, half the campus was probably dressed as witches, zombies, or sexy cops. but still, the nerve of this guy, strutting in like he invented the killer bunny look.

“and, you know what? my panties are in a twist, actually,” you shot back, glaring at jewie, who just gave you an unimpressed look. “like, literal twist. feels like they’re strangling me.”

she burst out laughing, clutching her stomach. “oh my god, you’re such a mess. there’s a whole locker room situation going on if you wanna fix it. no one’s gonna be in there anyway..”

“the locker room?” you hummed, considering it for a second. “yeah, might as well. better than walking around with my ass in knots.”

you slipped away from the party, the beat of the music fading as you made your way down the empty hallway, heels clacking against the floor. it was eerily quiet outside the main campus area, the darkness swallowing up the noise from the party like you were walking into another world. halfway there, though, you swore you heard something. footsteps, maybe? you glanced back over your shoulder, but the hallway was just as empty as before. shrugging it off, you kept walking.

then again—footsteps.

you whipped around, heart starting to race a bit. nothing. nobody. great, you thought. either you’re paranoid or some dude in a clown costume’s gonna jump out at you any second.

you sped up, practically rushing into the locker room, slamming the door behind you like that would keep the creepy vibes out. with a sigh, you lifted your skirt and fixed the tangled mess of fabric underneath. “goddamn,” you muttered, whistling in relief as the tension eased up. “finally.”

you made your way to the mirror, fluffing up your hair, adjusting your bunny ears, trying to look like you hadn’t just freaked yourself out. but then you heard it again—footsteps. this time, not so distant. real close.

before you could even react, the door creaked open, and there he was. the other killer bunny. strolling in like he owned the place, chill as could be, like it wasn’t the feminine locker room he’d just waltzed into.

“you’ve gotta be kidding me,” you muttered under your breath, shooting him a glare through the mirror. “stole my idea and my spot?”

he snorted, leaning against the sink with his back turned to the mirror, eyes just fixed forward, hands shoved casually in his pockets. “stole your idea? babe, i’ve been rockin’ this for ages.”

“you saw it from me!” you shot back, turning around to face him, pointing at him accusingly. “i should sue for copyright or some shit.”

he let out a low chuckle, tilting his head slightly like he was amused by your little outburst. “you can have the bunny part. i’ll keep the killer part.”

“real original,” you scoffed, turning back to the mirror, fixing a stray curl in your hair. “and what’re you even doing in the locker room? you lost or just stupid?”

“neither,” he said simply, his voice way too smug for someone who looked like he just broke into the wrong locker room. “it was either this, or i piss in a bush somewhere. decided to be classy tonight.”

you rolled your eyes but couldn’t help the slight smirk pulling at your lips. “yeah, real classy, creeping around the women’s locker room.”

he leaned closer, still not turning to look in the mirror. “who says i’m creeping? maybe you just walked into my locker room.”

“oh, so now it’s your locker room too? boy, you’re bold.”

“what can i say? bunny privileges,” he said, shrugging like it was the most normal thing in the world.

you shook your head, turning to look at him fully now, sizing him up. he was tall, broad, the slutty suit clinging to him just right, his posture relaxed like he didn’t have a care in the world. and that hair, black and messy behind his mask—well, you’d give him one thing. he wore the costume well. too well.

“you know,” you said, leaning back against the sink next to him, crossing your arms. “if you’re tryna intimidate me, it’s not working. you’re just another bunny.”

he chuckled again, that low, almost lazy sound that somehow made your skin tingle. “maybe i’m not tryna intimidate you. maybe i’m just waiting for you to admit i look better.”

you scoffed, pushing off the sink and standing up straight, close enough now that you could smell the faint cologne clinging to him. it was… annoyingly nice. “please, i wouldn’t give you that satisfaction even if you paid me.”

“we’ll... see about that?” he murmured, finally turning to face you, his body looming over yours. his mask obscured most of his face, but his eyes locked onto yours, like he could see right through the sass.

and there it was. that thing on your lower stomach that snuck up on you out of nowhere. “you really think you can handle me, bunny?” you teased.

he didn’t flinch. his lips twitched into a grin under the mask.

“handle you?” he echoed, his voice dropping an octave. “baby, i’m just getting started.”

you raised an eyebrow, leaning in just a little closer, testing him, seeing how far you could push. “then show me what you got.”

his hand was on you in a second, pulling you toward him with a firm grip on your waist, his breath hot through the mask. and suddenly, the empty locker room didn’t feel so empty anymore. his other hand slid down, grazing your thigh before hiking your skirt up. “you sure you wanna play this game?” he cooed, lips brushing the shell of your ear.

you let out a breathy laugh, your hands fisting into the fabric of his suit. “you started it.”

“yeah?” his grip tightened, pulling you flush against him, your bodies fitting together too perfectly. “then let me finish it.”

he leaned in for the kiss, but both of you realized, almost at the same time, that the stupid mask was in the way. your lips collided with the hard plastic, and for a second, it was awkward as hell—until you both burst into laughter. “yeah, that’s not gonna work,” you muttered, shaking your head.

“guess we’ll just have to improvise,” he murmured back, and before you knew it, he had spun you around, pressing your hips firmly against the cold sink. the chill of the ceramic made you gasp, but it was nothing compared to the way his fingers slid under the elastic of your garter, pulling it away from your skin before letting it snap back on ur skin.

“fuck,” you hissed, as the sting amde your pussy drool. he was watching you through that damn mask, his fingers traced the hem of your skirt before he flipped it over your lower back, exposing the white lacy set you’d chosen to match the whole killer bunny thing.

“fuckin’ cute,” he growled as he took in the sight of your barely-there panties and thigh-highs. “you really wore this for halloween? shit’s a fuckin’ joke,”

the degradation in his tone made your cheeks burn, you bit down on your lip, trying to keep your composure, he noticed everything.

“what’s the matter?” he asked, mock concern as his hands skimmed over your thighs, squeezing just hard enough to make you gasp again. “you like being called cute while i fuck you up?”

you didn’t even have time to respond before his fingers hooked into the waistband of your panties, dragging them down painfully slow, the lace barely clinging to your hips before he let them drop to your ankles. you kicked them off instinctively, your breath hitching when you saw him bend down slightly, he picked them up off the floor, turning the flimsy lace in his fingers for a second before shoving them deep into his pocket.

“gonna keep these,” he muttered, half to himself, half to you. standing up straight again. his hands, slid up your legs, spreading them just a bit more. the rough pads of his fingers brushed against the inside of your thighs, teasing you, waiting for you to beg, or break.

and god, you were close to breaking already.

one hand held your waist firmly in place, pressing you harder against the sink, while the other slipped between your legs, his fingers sliding against your wetness with an agonizing slowness.

“oh.. all soaked already?” he muttered, like he knew exactly how ruined you were just from his touch. “and we haven’t even started. you’ve been thinking about this? about me bending you over, fingers deep in this pretty little pussy?”

you couldn’t help the whimper that escaped you as his middle and ring fingers dipped inside, your pussy swallow him immediately, even when the skin burns a little with the stretch. his long fingers immediately finding that sweet, squishy spot, for a moment, resting the fingers there.

he kept the pads of his fingers facing down, rubbing slow, tight circles against that sensitive spot, making you clench around him. you've never been stimulated like this, it looked so different and knowing for a college boy. the sensation was enough to make your knees weak, but his grip on your hips kept you steady, held in place as he worked you open.

he leaned down, the mask still in place, but you could feel the heat of him behind you. “you hear that? hear how fucking wet you are? all for me, huh?”

you did, in fact, it echoed in the empty locker room, as you try to be quiet. but you moaned in response, your head falling forward, resting on your arms as you tried to catch your breath. every stroke of his fingers had your pussy tightening, thighs shaking, and you were half-sure you’d collapse if it weren’t for the him keeping you upright.

his other hand moving up your back just enough so he could press his lips against your bare shoulder. you felt him lift the mask just slightly, and then his mouth was on you, kissing, biting, his teeth grazing your skin in a manner that had you arching into him.

“fuck, you taste so good,” he muttered. “so sweet. but i bet you taste even better down here.”

you groaned in frustration when you realized he was still wearing that damn mask, completely blocking the possibility of him going down on you. he noticed the way you moaned extra loud, probably because you’d been imagining it—his mouth between your legs, tasting how worked up you were.

he cooed, amused by your reaction, shaking his head like you were some kind of innocent mess. “fuck baby, i’d love to, but this mask is getting in the way. you know that.” his voice was so casual, like it wasn’t a big deal at all, like it wasn’t torture for you. and god, that whimper that left your throat? pathetic. even you knew it. you rolled your hips on his fingers, desperate for something, anything to replace what you couldn’t have right now. the wet, slick sound of his fingers working into you echoed around the room, filling the space with a vulgar kind of music that had him biting his lip, watching you fall apart over nothing.

“oh, you really want it bad, huh?” he laughed, and you whined again, the sound so embarrassingly needy that it should’ve made you blush. but instead, it only made you more desperate. his teasing was too much.

“fuck,” you muttered, half-begging, and he pulled back a bit, thinking for a second before a playful smirk took over his lips.

“let’s play a game then,” he offered, your brows furrowed in confusion, but the second he leaned in, lips brushing your ear, you felt your whole body heat up in response. “we take the masks off. but,” he paused, his fingers still torturing you, making your hips twitch every time he pressed just right. “we keep our eyes closed. i’ll eat you out, i’ll do anything you want, but no peeking.”

you hummed at the idea, already thinking of how good it would feel to have him without the barrier of those stupid masks. but before you could even respond, he tilted his head, adding with a teasing lilt, “but first... i gotta fuck you. because you’re so fucking tight, so fucking pretty squirming around my fingers like this.” his voice softened into something almost sweet, like he was praising you, and the way he cooed when you shyly squirmed against his hand, embarrassed by his words, had your body tightening in response. “such a good girl for me, aren’t you?”

you were nodding before you even realized, the words barely out of your mouth before you agreed to it. the mask was yanked off, tossed to the side, and you felt him pull away slightly. you didn’t dare look back at him, though—you kept your promise, eyes shut tight, chest rising and falling rapidly.

you felt him shift behind you, the rustle of fabric as he undid his pants filling the locker room with a sharp, exciting edge. his fingers left you with a wet pop, and the sound made you shiver. god, you could still hear it—how soaked you were, how turned on he’d made you. your body reacted to the absence of his touch with a small gasp, but the moment you felt his warm breath near your ear again, your nerves melted away.

“don’t open your eyes,” he warned in that same serious tone, even though you could practically hear the smile on his face. you nodded, swallowing hard, trying to keep still. his fingers returned, now gripping your hips firmly, and you couldn’t help but arch into him, needing more.

“good girl,” he murmured, guiding you to bend further over the sink. your chest pressed against the cold surface, your eyes squeezed shut, but you could feel everything. you were painfully aware of how exposed you were to him, the skirt flipped up, your wetness on full display.

the blunt head of his cock nudged at your entrance, slick and heavy, and you braced yourself, but he didn’t push in. instead, he slid it up, dragging it along your folds, teasing your clit and the leaking hole. the sensation had your toes curling, and you couldn’t stop yourself from asking, “you just gonna rub it?”

he chuckled darkly, pressing the tip against your entrance again but not entering. “thought i’d take my time, make you beg a little more.”

you groaned, squirming under him, your hips moving on their own as you chased the penetration. you could feel him smiling behind you, still teasing, but his hand was firm on your hips, holding you steady as he slowly dragged his cock up and down, brushing against your clit every time. it was maddening, the way he was holding back, making you wait, making you ache for him.

“you want it that bad, hm?” he asked, and before you could even answer, he pushed in, sliding into you with a slick, deep thrust that knocked the breath out of your lungs as you watch pitch black. “fuck, there it is.”

you moaned, the sudden fullness overwhelming, your fingers gripping the edge of the sink as he held you in place, his cock buried deep inside. he didn’t move at first, just let you adjust to the stretch, but his hands were still moving—one sliding up your back, the other gripping your ass, squeezing hard as he groaned low in his throat.

“ah!–don' squeeze me like that,” he muttered, his voice strained as he began to move, his hips grinding into yours rolling the dick in and out of you. “taking me so well... pretty pussy devouring my cock.”

you whimpered at his praise, your body trembling with every slow stroke. he wasn’t holding back anymore, his pace picking up, his hand slipped down between your legs, his fingers finding your clit, rubbing light, quick circles that had you moaning loudly.

the thing was;

his eyes had been wide open the whole time.

he was practically glowing with the fact that you hadn’t recognized him at all. he knew it was you from the second you stepped into the party, making him choke on his own spit, all dressed up in that killer bunny costume, and it made him feel like he was holding onto the biggest secret ever. you had no idea who you were fucking, and that made everything ten times hotter.

as you leaned over the sink, he got a perfect view of your face blushing beneath your expertly done makeup, all those little details you’d spent hours perfecting. the way the light caught the shimmer on your cheeks, the dark eyeliner framing your eyes just right—it was beautiful. even though you planned on hiding your face with that mask for the entire night.

he pretended to keep his eyes closed, even though he could barely contain his excitement. “i hope you don't open your eyes hm? you wouldn't want to lose me eating you out, right?” he’d said with a smirk, watching as you nodded obediently. you were so good at this—everything about you, from the way you shifted on the sink to the way you were biting your lip in need, made him ache to see your true reaction when you finally figured it out.

he could feel your nervous energy as you followed his lead, trusting him completely. it was almost comical how easy it was to manipulate the situation, how horny you were, and he couldn’t help but chuckle quietly to himself.

“you’ve got no idea how fucking cute you moan,” he murmured, leaning closer, his breath ghosting over your ear as he continued to thrust into you. the way you squirmed made him even harder, and he could feel his own arousal rising at the thought of keeping this secret just a little longer.

“shut up,” you whined, clearly flustered by his words, and he couldn’t help but laugh softly. god, you were adorable. he kept it playful, teasing you even more as he leaned down to press his lips against your shoulder, kissing a line up your neck as he continued to roll his hips into you. “just focus on how good you feel.”

every thrust sent a quiver through you, and he could feel you responding to him, getting wetter with every move. you were lost in it, and he was completely taken by the way your body reacted to his touch. he loved how your sounds filled the space, how you couldn’t help but moan louder and louder as he picked up the pace, fucking you deeper.

“tell me how good it feels.”

“so good, you feel so good—your cock—s'big!” you breathed, and he reveled in the power he had over you. he could see the way your body squirmed beneath him, anguished for more, and it only pushed him to keep going.

“that’s right, keep saying it,” he encouraged, his fingers curling around your waist, pulling you back against him as he hit that sweet spot inside you. “i want to hear everything, since i cant see it.”

he could feel you tightening around him, your that sweet release pulsing, and just when you were about to hit that peak, he pulled out, leaving you gasping “what the fuck?!” you cried, your voice high-pitched with desperation, eyes still closed. he couldn’t help but chuckle at your frustration, knowing just how good you felt, but wanting to keep you on that brink a little longer.

“patience, bunny,” he teased, leaning in closer, his breath warm against your ear. “you’ll get what you want.”

with that, he pushed back into you, driving deep and hard, and the sound of your moan filled the locker room. “yes! please!” you begged, fingers digging into the sink as you rocked back against him.

but again, right when you were so close, he slipped out. “no, no, don’t do that!” you whined, the desperation in your voice making him grin. “i was so close!”

“i won’t let you cum on my cock,” he said, a teasing grin playing on his lips as he watched your expression crumble. your face fell against your arms in defeat, sulking like a petulant child. “why?” you whined, the sulk evident in your voice, and he couldn’t help but scoff at how adorable you looked, all flustered and desperate.

just then, his hand tangled in your hair, tugging enough to make you almost open your eyes. the sudden pressure made a strangled moan escape your throat, and he loved it.

he slowly turned you around, guiding you to sit on the cold sink. you cursed under your breath, your legs instinctively spreading wide as you positioned yourself for him.

“this is so unfair, i cant see you...” you muttered, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks as you thought about how you couldn’t see what he was doing. you could hear the sound of your breath quickening as he dropped to his knees in front of you, the idea of him between your legs making you almost cum on spot.

“you don’t need to see it, babe,” he said, all sultry. fuck you needed to know who he was, and with that, you could feel him get closer, his breath hot against your pussy, making you squirm.

“you’re such an ass for doing this to me,” you groaned, but deep down, you were practically begging for it, and you knew it. he laughed softly, the sound thundering in his chest as he spread your legs wider, giving himself a perfect view of your pussy, the folds puffy, and flushed, dripping beautifully.

a sudden creak from somewhere down the hallway snapped you out of the fog of pleasure, and, instinctively, you opened your eyes. it took a second to adjust, to blink away the haze clouding your vision, but then you looked down—straight at him.

and—

mr. yoon?

“shh,” he whispered, a finger pressed to his own lips, a hint of a smirk twitching as he maintained eye contact with you, even as his head dipped between your legs. you wanted to pull back, to process that your professor was there, settled on his knees in front of you in a locked room, but his mouth had already found your clit.

“oh my god,” you moan, in disbelief, in pure ecstasy. he starts sucking your clit with so hard that makes you dizzy, and your back arches instinctively, the sensations overwhelming. your mind races, but the sight of him—mr. yoon, your strict, no-nonsense professor—eating you out is enough to push you right back over the edge.

you bite your lip to stifle your cries, but it’s no use. the combination of the taboo and the sucking sends you spiraling into the orgasm, and you can feel yourself clenching around his tongue as you cum in his mouth, a whimper escaping your lips.

“holy—” you breathe, panting as he pulls away, licking his lips like he’s savoring the taste of you.

he raises up to kiss you, but you back away instinctively, the shock paralyzing you.

“wait, you didn’t like that it was… me?” he asks, worry flashing across his eyes.

your mind is racing. so he was the one fucking you? after the letter—oh my god. “i… i didn’t know it was you!” you manage to stammer.

he licks his cum-covered lips, that sly grin still in place. he steps back slightly, still unsure of what to say. “so… you liked it, then?”

“well, yeah, but—” you start, but the words fail you. how do you even explain this? how do you tell your professor that he just made you come like that, and it was one of the best experiences of your life?

you catch his gaze, and for the first time, there’s a flicker of worry in mr. yoon’s eyes. he's probably already imagining that expulsion letter or the scandal that’d blow up his career.

“relax,” you murmur, smirking as he watches you. “i’m not about to go blabbing to the dean or anything.” he quirks a skeptical brow, clearly not convinced yet, and you give him a playful shrug. “but only if… you get on your knees again and show me just how much you wanna keep me quiet.”

the corner of his mouth lifts. “oh, is that right?” he murmurs, and before you know it, he’s stepping forward, hands sliding around your waist as he leans down, lips ghosting over the shell of your ear.

“guess i’ll have to make sure you’re too busy to even think about talking,” he whispers.

[...]

monday rolls around, and it’s like the entire campus is still buzzing about the halloween party. people are dissecting every detail, trying to figure out who was behind which mask. you’re sitting at your desk, pretending to read the same damn paragraph for the fifth time, but let’s be real—there’s only one thing on your mind: mr. yoon’s dick.

jeonghan’s up at the front, leaning against his desk, teaching as if nothing happened, and you can barely keep a straight face. every time you glance up, you can’t help but picture the way he looked at you, the feel of his hands, his mouth… yeah, not the kind of thoughts you should be having in the middle of class.

the bell finally rings, snapping you out of it as everyone starts packing up. your friend pauses by the door, waiting, but just as you’re about to leave, mr. yoon clears his throat.

“y/n,” he says, there’s that hint of something under it, something only you would catch. “stay a moment, would you?”

you wave your friend off, muttering something about catching up later. she glances between the two of you and, of course, shoots you a knowing smile before shutting the door on her way out. it’s just you and jeonghan now, the room empty and quiet, his gaze pinned on you.

he raises an eyebrow, and his eyes flick towards the closed door. “should i be worried about that smile she gave you?” he asks, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.

you blink, caught off guard. “no! no one knows about… us,” you insist, a bit too quickly.

he scoffs, giving you this look like he’s amused but skeptical. “oh, i know that,” he says smoothly, but then he taps his finger on his desk. “but she definitely knows… about this.”

with a dramatic flourish, he slides open a drawer and pulls out the letter. your stomach drops as he lays it out on his desk for you to see, the unmistakable swoop of your handwriting there in all its glory, complete with little heart and butterfly stickers surrounding a mortifyingly filthy sentence.

“wanna feel your cock hitting the deepest part of my pussy until i can’t even remember my name.”

you freeze, face heating up instantly. oh, god. did you really write that?

he chuckles softly, watching you squirm as you avoid his gaze, suddenly very interested in the stack of textbooks on his desk. you press your lips together, practically biting down to keep from making any sound, because your brain is malfunctioning.

“so,” he murmurs, “did you really mean every word?”

[upsidedownwithsteve]

Steve Harrington x fem!reader [3.4K] request from anon: what about Steve teaching reader how to really kiss? Like she’s only ever had bad ones before? 

“Sloppy?” Steve grimaced, smiling through your word choice despite the disappointment he felt for you. 

You shrugged, nose crinkled as you remembered. “Yeah. Wet, y’know? And not like— it was just too much…tongue.”

There was a silence, a sad kind that filled the room. Steve wasn’t sure what to say. You kind of regretted telling the boy. So you sighed and shrugged it off again, biting the head off of red Sour Patch Kid.

“Maybe I just don’t like making out,” you sounded defeated and Steve hated it, frowning as he watched you chew your candy mournfully, your back pressed to the side of his unmade bed. “That’s normal, right? Like, some people just don’t like things like that and—”

“Hey, hey,” Steve knocked his foot against yours, legs stretched out across his bedroom floor. The pack of playing cards had been abandoned beside some unopened twizzlers and Steve’s can of cherry soda. “Look, of course that’s normal. And— and if that’s how you feel, that’s totally okay, alright?”

The boy hesitated, worried his bottom lip between his teeth and wondered if he should keep talking. You watched him, brows raised expectantly. 

“I just think—” Steve cleared his throat, his pointer finger dragging patterned across his carpet. He shrugged, all faux nonchalance. He didn’t want to sound like a creep, not to his best friend. Not to you. “I just think that maybe you’ve not had a good kiss, y’know?”

You didn’t answer, not right away. And Steve didn’t try and backtrack, or explain himself, he just waited, watching you think. His bedroom window was open, the sounds of the early evening slipping through. Someone’s backyard pool filter, their sprinklers out the front, the quiet spin of a kids bike going down the sidewalk.  

You didn’t look at Steve when you finally asked, “well, what is a good kiss?”

You felt stupid, asking such a thing at your age but maybe you’d grown up picking all the wrong kinds of guys. Impatient boys, greedy boys, selfish boys. Boys who turned into men who didn’t have the time of day to take it slow with a girl like you. Boys who thought they were men, who used too much teeth and tongue and pressure and tasted like cheap party beer and the leftover smoke of their cigarette. 

Guys who got too handsy too quick, guys who didn’t care that when they pulled away from your lips, you swiped the back of your hand over your mouth and tried not to frown. 

Steve shifted a little, cheeks turning pink as his eyes found yours. “Well,” he gestured at you, awkward. His gaze settled on your lips before he blinked and looked away. “I mean, it helps when you really like the person, y’know? The uh, the chemistry of it all.”

You swallowed, throat feeling tight, chest feeling too warm. You remember Nancy talking about those kinds of feelings when she first kissed Jonathan, a dopey, soft smile on her lips as she recounted it, telling you of the buzz under her skin, the flips that her stomach did when he leaned in to meet her, eyes closing. 

“Sure,” you agreed. You don’t think you’d ever felt that way about the boys you had kissed. “Right.”  

“But I guess you’re supposed to take your time with it? I mean, at first, when you’re getting to know someone.” Steve smiled, soft, reassuring. His knee knocked yours. “You find out what they like.”

“What they like?” You asked, voice cracking a little. You didn’t know where to look, what to do with your hands. You picked up a green sour patch and bit its leg. “What does that mean?”

Steve looked bashful, miles apart from the boy you’d know in high school, with a girl on his arm in the hallways, a different one in his lap at a party that weekend. 

“I’d, uh, I mean— person A would go slow with person B, right? They’d start soft. Gentle, I guess? You gotta— they’d have to figure out how the other person likes to be kissed. Not everyone shoves their tongue down your throat, y’know.”

You huffed out a laugh but it sounded weak, too breathy. You wanted the boy to keep talking, you wanted to watch his pink cheeks and his pretty eyes dart across your face, like he was searching for something. 

You wondered if he’d find it. 

“Not everyone?” You whispered. 

“No,” Steve shook his head, his smile wry. He leaned forward, elbows on his knees and he was closer now, closer than before and you could smell his cologne, the cherry soda fizz that hung in the air along with Mr Jackson’s freshly mown grass. “No, no, not everyone. I’d give the girl a peck at first, yeah? Just something PG-13. Then, when she relaxes and you know, she moves closer, kisses me back, I’d—”

Steve broke off, blinking like he was getting rid of something hazy. He’d been looking at you as he spoke, words coming too easy, the air between you both warm despite the setting sun. He licked his lips, suddenly nervous, awkward again, a bashful thing that made him suddenly even more endearing than you thought he ever could be. 

“You’d what, Steve?” You blinked, feeling warm, wondering if the boy could tell. You didn’t know what to do so you moved, leaning forward until you could fold your legs underneath yourself and your thigh bumped Steve’s shin. “You’d what?”

Steve’s eyes searched yours, his gaze falling to your lips and back again. You thought he found it then, that thing he seemed to be looking for. Because he cleared his throat and let one hand fall to the carpet between you, his fingers brushing over your socked toes and you almost jumped at the contact. 

The silence was too loud now. 

“I could show you, if you wanted.”

Someone’s lawn mower started up a few yards over, white noise buzzing in the distance as you tried to take in what Steve had just said. He was watching you, head tilted to the side, cheeks still rosy and when you looked at him carefully, you could see the barely concealed panic in his brown eyes. 

He pressed his lips together and tried to smile, tight and nervous and he was picking at the carpet, fingers fidgeting as you sat there dumbly. You heard the shake in his voice when he tried to say, “I am—,” he choked on his words, panicked. “—so, so sorry, I shouldn’t have—”

“Steve,” you stopped the boy with a hand on his shin, your warm palm against the denim. “We’re friends, right?”

The word seemed to burn on your tongue, like it tasted like a lie, like it was as dangerous as one. You waited, breath held, wondering if you wanted Steve to agree or not. 

“Yeah,” he nodded, suddenly so serious. “Yeah, yeah, ‘course we are.” He worried at his bottom lip again, looking at your own. “Best friends.”

You nodded, tongue feeling too big for your mouth to speak. Words felt clumsy, your skin too warm. Buzzing. Fizzing. You weren’t sure if it was you or the air. 

“Show me.”

You thought Steve would maybe hesitate, maybe he’d back out or shout, ‘got you!’ like those prank shows Dustin liked to watch. You thought he’d maybe lay down some rules, maybe he’d tell you how this didn’t mean anything and really, he was only doing his sad friend a favour. 

He didn’t do any of that. In fact he didn’t say anything else at all. Steve just let out a breath and nodded once, almost to himself before he let his hand curl around the back of your calf and he tugged, gentle. 

He lifted his chin, a casual ‘c’mere’ that had your heart thundering and you wondered if this confidence, this way of acting so sure of himself, was how he got all the girls. 

A quiet sort of assertiveness that made your stomach flip inside out. 

You unfurled yourself from your sitting position, shuffling to your knees as you moved across Steve’s bedroom floor, bare shins burning against the carpet. You leaned back on your heels, brought yourself down to Steve’s level where he sat against his wall, legs stretched out before him. 

He didn’t warn you when he brought his hand to your face, fingers cupping your cheek and his thumb brushed the corner of your mouth and you were suddenly left wondering when Steve’s hands had gotten so big. You’d watched him grow, from a middle school kid to king Steve the senior. You’d seen the new muscles, the height, the hair. You’d never noticed his hands before but now they were on you, it’s all you could think about.

Dizzy. You felt dizzy. 

“Okay?” Was all he asked, voice softer and quieter now he was so much closer. 

You nodded, face too warm and licking across your bottom lip like a reflex. You weren’t sure where to look. Or where to put your hands. Most kisses you’d shared had happened in the crowds at parties or in the front seat of a boy’s car after a date. You usually lay your palms on their shoulders, holding on and wondering if every boy took these opportunities to grope your ass like a pile of dough. 

“We can stop,” Steve told you. He looked nervous and if anything, it made you feel more anxious than ever. “Whenever you want, ‘kay?” 

You nodded again, unable to really speak, too scared that your voice would crack or something equally stupid would happen. And maybe Steve knew this, maybe he knew you so much better than you ever thought he would, because he smiled and nodded too. 

“Okay,” he announced, quiet and soft and he was moving closer, noses bumping, his eyes fluttering shut. “Here goes.”

“Wait.”

Steve paused, gaze back on your own and he looked concerned, he looked worried and before he could ask you what was wrong you were sucking in a panicked breath and asking: “what if I’m the bad kisser?”

“What?” Steve let out a laugh, breathy and disbelieving and he was still so close, his hand on your jaw and his thumb rubbing absentmindedly over the apple of your cheek. He was shaking his head, smiling, looking too pretty and suddenly this seemed like a monumental thing, something gargantuan. “No, there’s no way.”

You squirmed on the floor, shifting further and then closer and Steve loosened his hold on you but you didn’t go anywhere. You just blinked at him, pained with worry. “How could you know?”

Steve paused as he thought and you wondered if he had an answer, if he was going to say something truthful or he was simply thinking of something sweet to say to placate you. Instead, he looked into your eyes and seemed to search for that… thing, again. 

I— I just—” Steve didn’t say anything, he didn’t give you an explanation or a reason. 

He simply pressed his lips to yours. 

It was chaste and sweet and entirely innocent, lips closed and nothing close to scandalous. But then he parted from you just a breath, looking at you from heavy lidded eyes, watching you from beneath his lashes. And when you didn’t move, you didn’t panic, Steve leaned in again, kissing you the same way until he nudged your chin up with his hand and his lips slotted between your own. 

He moved slowly, carefully, with a practised ease that made your toes curl and it was still sweet, it made your tummy warm and your head spin and Steve’s lips were soft, tasting like cherry soda and sugar. 

You caught up after a beat or two, your hand that wasn’t braced on the floor reaching up to cling to where you could reach. Your fingers found the collar of Steve’s t-shirt, fisting the soft material and doing everything to make sure he didn’t move away. You moved with him, lips meeting and parting over and over until Steve sucked in a breath and tilted his head to the other side, pressing closer, a little deeper. 

After another soft peck, he pulled away, eyes still closed and his thumb on your chin as he whispered, voice hoarse. “See? Nothin’ to worry about.” He brushed your hair behind your ear, pressed his fingers under your jaw. “And now, a guy should be testing the waters, right?”

“They should?” You whispered back. Your eyes were still closed too, your fingers sneaking up past Steve’s collar to stroke at the skin at the base of his throat, experimental, adventurous. “How’d they do that?”

You were sure you felt the boy smile, sensed it. A warm breath across your lips as he moved closer again. “Like this—” 

Another kiss, the same as before, once, twice and then Steve was parting his mouth over your own and letting the tip of his tongue lick over your bottom lip. It was a fleeting touch, a zap, a buzz, a tingle down your spine and you gasped without thinking about it, lips parting for the boy and you followed suit, tongue moving past Steve’s lips to meet his own. 

He groaned then, a vibration against you, his hand skating back from your cheek to thread into your hair and he let his tongue move over your own, lips clicking every time they parted. It was slower than you’d been kissed before, something sensual about it despite being sat on your best friend’s bedroom floor and it made your insides somersault, the skin where Steve slouched burning. 

“Told you,” he murmured, breath heavy as he spoke. “Nothing to worry about,” he repeated and when you finally opened your eyes to look at him, face blazing with heat, Steve was looking at you like he didn’t know what to do with himself. 

“Mhmm,” you agreed, barely listening, eyes still on the boy’s mouth, fingering the collar of his shirt, not ready to let go yet. “You must be a good teacher, or something.”

Steve looked distracted, Adam’s apple bobbing, gaze on your lips too. You weren’t sure he had stopped looking at them. “Yeah, yeah. Or something.” He swallowed, throat tight. “Do you wanna stop? Or—?”

“No,” you said, maybe too quickly. “Do you?”

“God, no,” Steve agreed just as fast. “You can keep going— just— what do you want…?”

Steve’s words died on his lips as you moved suddenly, rising to your knees only to push Steve back to the wall. His hands fell to his sides, hovering in mid air as he stared, watching as you swung a leg over his knees and sat carefully on his lap. You were cautious, more on his thighs that closer to anything else but you tried to breathe evenly as you took in the position. 

“Okay?” You asked him, voice caught sticky in your throat with nerves but Steve nodded, head bobbing hurriedly. You sucked in a breath, smoothing your hands over Steve’s shoulders before you did as he had, smoothing them up the sides of his neck and holding his jaw carefully. “What do I do now?”

‘Whatever you want,’ Steve wanted to beg. But apparently this was a lesson of sorts and he  had something to teach you. So he cleared his throat to make sure his voice wouldn’t crack and held your hips, hands gentle and polite. “You, uh, you find out what I like.”

You nails scratched at the back of his neck, unconsciously. You licked your lips. “How do I do that?”

Steve’s hands flexed on your hips, climbing to your waist, holding you a little tighter. Something seemed to shift then, his eyes lighting up. He looked like he was ready to fight, like you’d asked him if he were up for a challenge. It made you grin. 

“Kiss me.”

 So you did. 

You did as Steve had at the start, kissing him soft and slow and chaste, pulling away before he could catch you, teasing, nose bumping his and breaths mixing, cherry soda to fizzy candy. And just before Steve was about to groan, frustrated, you shifted closer, chest pressed to his and you parted your lips, catching his bottom lip between your own. 

It was a greedier kiss and Steve let his head fall back against the wall with a dull thunk, opening his mouth for you, nails digging into your sides when you licked over his tongue, exploratory, gentle. You felt him nod, the tip of his nose smushed to your cheek and you smiled, amused at his praise. 

“Like that?” You asked, breathless, barley parting from him to speak. 

“Yeah, like that,” Steve agreed, sounding just as wrecked. “Keep going, please.”

He didn’t have to ask again. Fuck, he didn’t even have to ask as nicely as he did because you were back on him in a heartbeat, kissing your best friend like you didn’t want him to remember anyone else. 

“Slower,” he whispered, muttering instructions against your mouth and you didn’t feel scolded, you didn’t feel embarrassed you just followed Steve’s instructions, pulling back slightly to kiss him softer, lips moving with his slower, slower, slower. 

You heard him groan, felt his chest rumble and his hands squeeze at you in silent praise and you knew then he liked it like that, liked to be teased. You nosed at his cheek, did as he had done and pushed your thumb under his jaw to bring his mouth up to yours, his head tipping back, back, back. You pecked over his cheeks then, over the bridge of his nose and at the corner of his lips until he was panting, waiting for you. 

“Yeah?” Was all you asked. 

“Yeah,” he hummed, feeling like he was vibrating. He let his eyes shutter closed, waiting for your next touch. “Yeah.”

You felt bolder, brazen, pushing your lips back to Steve’s and when you pulled away this time, you nipped at the boy’s bottom lip, pulling at it gently with your teeth and until it popped softly back into place and Steve swore, he cursed, he grunted and his hips shifted under yours. 

“You like that,” you noted with a smile and it wasn’t a question. 

Steve didn’t speak, he couldn’t. Instead he stared up at you and nodded, dazed, throat bobbing as he swallowed tightly and tried to get himself under control. 

You moved into each other again without discussion, an unconscious need that didn’t need a conversation. Your hands went to his hair, holding onto the messy ends at the nape of his neck as his travelled the expanse of your back, fingertips lifting the hem of your shirt every downstroke, his skin on yours. It was enough for you to make soft noises against him, nudging closer and Steve helped, his hands pulling at your waist until your chest pressed against his and were seated over his crotch. 

You felt him then, hard and pressed underneath his jeans and it made you kiss him like you had something to prove, mouths moving together, open and panting, tongues touching teasingly, teeth grazing against lips to try and make the other moan louder. 

And when Steve’s garage door opened, a groaning, grating sound below his window, it was an interruption that told you both his father had arrived home. 

You slid from his lap, chest heaving and eyes heavy on Steve’s pink cheeks. His lips were shiny from your work, his hands leaving your waist at the very last second, your butt hitting his carpet rather ungracefully as you backed away, suddenly so aware of the line that had been crossed. 

You were burning still, an ache between your legs that hadn’t quite been satisfied and your lips buzzed from Steve’s kisses, the slow, careful way he’d pressed his to your own. He’d paid attention, you realised, picked up on every noise you made, every shift against him, the way you kissed him back eagerly when he did something you liked. And you’d done the same, taking in his gasps and sighs, stomach flipping when his hips bucked and his chest moved a little quicker than before. 

Your fingers touched your bottom lip before you pressed the back of your hand to it, as if to hide the evidence. Steve was still staring at you, panting, doing nothing to hide the obvious bulge in his jeans. 

And when his front door opened and closed and you could hear his fathers footsteps lead into his office, Steve stayed quiet. Only when the sound of the door clicking shut filled the silent house did he smile, boyish and all charm.

“See?” He reminded you, cheeks still burning. His hair was a mess from where you’d pulled on it. He looked rumpled, undone at the seams. “Told you, you weren’t a bad kisser.”

[gojoest]

A LUCKY ONE — satoru being sickeningly in love with you, gn! reader, you're naked in bed, calls you beauty

“well, well… look what we have here”, satoru’s morning voice wafts through the air as he lifts the blanket covering the two of you up, just a tiny bit but enough to take a peek — “a naked beauty in my bed”. the view of your bare legs (one of which is thrown over his) helps the idiotic smile on his lips crack wider. his lips look a little dry, you think. you haven’t kissed them since you fell asleep last night. you should fix that, you think, because yours start to feel a bit dry too.

you slowly charge towards his face with yours until your lips meet his for a short kiss. “you’re a lucky one — because i have a naked loser in mine”, you sigh as you pull away but—

—he pulls you back,

“oh, so?”, and effortlessly drags your body on top of his, wrapping his arms around you. both of his hands resting at the small of your back. “beauty and the loser sounds like a good match, no?”

“it’s not like i have much of a choice here. the beauty is stuck with the loser, you see”, you try to slip away but no use, he’s got you good — his arms won’t budge. “see what i’m talking about?”

“so you’d choose someone else to be stuck with if given the chance?”, he gasps, then purses his lips into a pout.

“as if you’d ever give me that chance”

“absolutely never”, he squeezes you tightly — physically emphasizing what he just said — before placing a hand at the back of your neck to pull your face close and hide it in the crook of his neck. “you’re mine”

“see, do i even have a choice?”, you try to hold back your chuckle at his adorable reaction.

“no. you’re stuck with this loser right here, like it or not”, he responds. still pouting, still holding you close.

“guess i have to learn to live with that”

“good. make sure to excel at it because it’s a matter of life and death — this loser can’t live without you”

“i’ll do my best then, or it’ll weigh on my conscious”

“that’s the only reason?”, another gasp leaves his mouth.

“hmm…”, you take your time before you continue, pretending to think very hard of another reason. “maybe the fact that he’s my loser has something to do with it, but i’m not very sure — either way, he’s a lucky one i’d say”

“yea”, his cheek squishes against your head, a pout still present on his lips. “he really is a lucky one, but you — you’re a very mean one, you know? just tell me you love me already”, he whines.

“or what?”

“or we’ll stay like this in bed all day”

“okay. i don’t mind”

“oh? neither do i, to be honest”, he snorts.

after all this is much better for him.

[luveline]

I’m obsessed with the sister!hotch and Reid fics. I can’t stop imagining that scene where Rossi goes to Garcia’s house and she’s fresh from the shower with Kevin. But instead is Hotch at readers house and Spencer is there.

—you and Spencer are in the midst of a long weekend together when your brother shows up unannounced. fem, 1.3k

“You’re really handsome.” 

Spencer laughs as you drag your hands back over his ears and through his sopping wet hair. The shower water is blissfully warm and soaking your front as it rains down on his head. You shield his eyes but otherwise have your fun. His hair is softer than anything you’ve ever felt. 

He holds your hands flat to his head. “You’re handsomer.” 

“Am I supposed to take that in a good way or a bad way?” you ask. 

“A good way!” he says, forgetting your hands in favour of guiding you under the water. “Handsome has nearly always been used for men more than women, but it didn’t fall out of fashion for girls until the fifties.” He tilts your head upward and to one side as his own begins to fall the other way. “You’re beautiful.” His voice is warm on your lips, “you’re so–”

His kiss is ridiculous; he kisses like he’s starving. You didn’t realise men could actually kiss like this until you met him. It’s not just in the movies, it’s right now, his hand at the back of your neck, unbothered by your laughing or your hand slipping down his wet t-shirt. 

“This is the stupidest thing I’ve ever done,” you say. 

“We were covered in mud.” 

“We should’ve just got naked.” 

“We’re taking things slow,” he says, laughing, “it’s fun. But what are we gonna do about our wet clothes?”

“You got the most of the mud on you,” you say. Spencer had performed a valiant rescue in that when you fell, he was straight down into the grass after you in an attempt to save your jeans. It didn’t work, obviously, but the thought was there, and he’s such a good kisser in the shower that you don’t mind the loss. “I’m gonna get out and get changed, you can have a real shower, okay? I’ll get you a towel and your pyjamas and stuff.” 

“You sure?” 

“Yeah, it’s fine. I think all the mud from my top half is gone.” 

Spencer takes your face into his hand. His thumb rubs a line along your jaw. “Now it’s gone.” 

You beam. Who knew Dr. Spencer Reid was such a tender guy? You could sort of guess from looking at him that he’d touch you like that, but it’s a contrast, too, to be kissed as though you’re some irresistible siren and to have your face held like fragile glass. 

You step out of the shower still sodden, clothes heavy, and close the frosted door between you and Spencer to strip down. Separated but still shy, you hurry out of your clothes and into a towel, wrapping yourself tightly to head into your bedroom. 

You put on blissfully dry underwear and blot your face. Next is loose pyjama pants and a big t-shirt: you’ve never worried about being sexy for Spencer and you’re not about to start. Your first date was a walk in the park, your second date at the bowling alley. He’s not concerned with that stuff. It’s why his frankness about wanting to take things slow isn’t scary, because when he holds your face and tells you you’re pretty, you believe it. 

“Y/N?” 

You flinch so hard your neck cracks. “Ow,” you whine. 

“What’s wrong?” 

You walk forward before Aaron can let himself into your bedroom. Sure enough, your older brother is in your apartment (as he’s allowed, given that he furnished the entire place and paid the security deposit, and, also, awfully, is a very nice big brother). He’s smiling, carrying two pizza boxes and a carton atop it that smells like French fries. “What have you done now?” he asks fondly. 

“I hurt my neck, you scared me.” 

“If you answered your phone, you’d know I was here.” 

“I was in the shower!” 

“I can see that. You’re getting slovenly, it’s almost midday.” 

You’re so genuinely happy to see him that you forget for a moment your predicament. “It’s the weekend, I can do what I want.” You’re gonna have to let him down, which won’t be easy. “I’m not feeling the best, actually.” 

Aaron lets the pizza boxes rest against his stomach. “How come?” 

“I don’t know, I just feel tired. Maybe we can do something tomorrow.” 

“Honey,” Aaron says, with all the cadence of someone who’s used to rubbing your back when you’re sick, “what’s wrong? Let’s go sit down, I can make you something less greasy.” 

“I think you should just go home, actually. I might be contagious.” 

He looks less concerned and more gutted. “What? I don’t care if you’re contagious. When has that stuff ever bothered me?” Aaron takes another step toward you, his gaze flitting past you toward your bathroom. “What’s really going on?” 

The age gap between you and Aaron is expansive. Your being adopted is another gap, and neither have ever bothered him. The moment you showed up in his life he gave you everything he could manage, which has manifested in long phone calls, in hugs, in homemade soup and delivery when he couldn’t be there. Asking him not to look after you is like telling him you don’t want him to, and it isn’t true. 

He means a lot more to you than whatever awkwardness your confession will inspire. 

“Aaron,” you say, crossing your arms over your chest. “Spencer’s in the shower.” 

He squeezes his pizza boxes. “Sorry?” 

“We went to the park and I fell by the lake. He’s in the shower.” 

“But you were just in the shower,” Aaron says. 

“Well, we weren’t in there at the same time,” you drag. 

Your lie is obvious to him, not just as a profiler but as your brother. His brow pinches and his nose wrinkles, not disgusted with you or anything so cruelly stupid, but dissatisfied, at least. “Did you have to tell me that?” he asks, pained.

“I didn’t tell you that, you profiled that, and it’s sort of not what you think anyways! We didn’t do anything–”

“Honey.” 

“I’m really sorry, but it’s not what you think.” 

“Listen to me.” The shower turns off and Aaron’s cheek twitches. “You are a grown up. You can do what you like with who you like. It’s my fault for coming here unannounced, I keep thinking of you as younger than you are.” Says the adult. Then, the more friendly part of being a sibling emerges, “Could you send him home?” he whispers. “I got your favourite.” 

You laugh at his proposition. “That’s kinda rude, isn’t it? Can’t he stay? He’s cool.” 

“I’m having trouble coalescing the two of you as more than acquaintances in my mind,” he says, as though he has much more to say about it, even if he’s smiling. 

Spencer chooses that moment to walk from the en-suite bathroom and out of your room, a t-shirt stuck to his chest with damp, his own pyjama pants baggy at the ankles.

“Hey, are you okay?” Spencer grabs your hand impulsively, twining his fingers in yours. Then he sees Aaron and does a double take. “Hotch?”

You give Aaron a sorry smile. “Does that make it easier?” 

“I’ll wait in the kitchen.” 

You and Spencer watch Aaron retreat. His hand stays in yours, but he squeezes you too tightly. “Wait for what?” Spencer whispers fervently. 

You lean up on tiptoes to kiss his eyebrow. “You’re about to get the shovel talk, I think.” 

“Oh. Great.” He drops his forehead against your shoulder, wet hair dripping a path down your shirt. “This is really bad.” 

“He brought pizza.” 

“I don’t think that’s going to help me.” 

You crane your head and kiss-kiss-kiss the top of his ear. “You’re really pretty when your hair is wet.” 

Spencer murmurs to you reluctantly. “You’re really pretty all the time.” 

[creative-crybaby]

Trifle

PAIRING: Gojo Satoru x fem!reader

GENRE: crack? crack. | smut (18+)

Minors DNI

TAGS + WARNINGS: fingering, oral (m receiving), praise kink, dacryphilia (?), cum eating, squirting

Let me know if I missed anything.

WORD COUNT: 1.7k

SUMMARY: Two things can be true at the same time. Does Gojo make you want to hit him upside the head with a frying pan, should his Infinity allow it? Yes. Does he also know how to make your ovaries explode with his fingers alone? Also yes.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Heeeeyyyy~ yes it's been several months without a fic and this comes out under 2k words buuuuuutttt~ u get bitchass!Gojo (we love him)

© creative-crybaby, do not repost or modify

You’re going to kill him. 

He’s a walking, talking headache. Questioning your teaching methods for your students, eating your sweets even though you’ve labelled them (it’s right there!), swooping into your missions like he’s saving the day. Those are just a few of the many examples, but he does it all on purpose, you’re sure of it. 

So to be sitting between his long legs with his slender fingers knuckle-deep into your sopping cunt feels like a blow to your integrity and pride. 

Especially since he knows exactly what he’s doing.

“So,” Gojo drawls, pausing his ministrations between your trembling thighs, “how many orgasms was that?”

Your face is boiling. From rage or embarrassment, you can’t decide. “Fuck you.”

The sorcerer hums at your crude remark before slipping his digits out of your pussy, holding his hand a foot away from your face to catch your essence blanketing his skin. 

“Patience, patience.” His easy-going tone makes you want to jab your elbow into his stomach. “Jeez, someone’s eager. You finally warming up to me, Princess?”

And that damn nickname. Either Gojo genuinely doesn’t know how much you hate it, or he’s just trying to push your buttons some more. With the clueless grins he’d offer as he’d call you that, you’d assume the former. But with his explanation for calling you that being that you always stick your nose up at him, you don’t think he deserves any benefit of the doubt. 

You hate that nickname, yet you find yourself clenching around nothing just from hearing those familiar syllables. 

His first question came out like he was asking for the time, yet with the number of times he’s made you see galaxies, you ought to be grateful that his tone holds no cockiness. No, actually, you might prefer that instead—how dare he handle this victory with grace and nonchalance?

“This doesn’t even make us friends,” you manage to stammer through gritted teeth. Your glare remains on his hand, still drenched before you, though your frustration lies more down south than anywhere else. 

You can hear the taunting frown in the sorcerer’s voice. “Guess you won’t care for this anymore, then.”

His arm, responsible for putting you in your puddle-like state, slowly retracts, and you can feel the sorcerer take his time raising from his seated position. 

Now he’s finally giving you the space you always wanted from him, yet you surprise yourself by grabbing him by the wrist. You let go as soon as you recognize your action, but the deed has already been done. 

An overly enthusiastic gasp. “You do like me!”

“Oh, my God—If I say yes, will you just finish the job already?” you groan. 

Gojo plops back to his seating position behind you, nestling his chin onto your shoulder as he teases his hand to return between your thighs. His warm breath fans your cheek while his lips graze your earlobe. Miniscule actions that have your body heating up. Intentional on his part, most likely, though you refuse to give him any more ammo against you. 

A heavy sigh. The feigned disappointment in his tone has your brows furrowing so intensely that you worry you might pop a vein. 

“No gratitude for the hand that feeds you, huh?” The special-grade sorcerer nuzzles into your neck, his woe-is-me attitude soon replaced with a blinding grin and boyish giggle. “Oh, but you know I can’t be mad at you for long!”

Long and slender fingers bury themselves in your weeping cunt before you process his mood swings. A trembling moan slips from your mouth as his skilled ministrations resume, your sweet spot welcoming the familiar touch. His speed and rhythm return as if he never paused, further turning your brain to mush as your thighs tremble. Gojo chuckles childishly once more, the charming melody syncing with the embarrassingly loud squelching of your soaking pussy. 

Multiple orgasms later, and you ask for more. The heat from the situation must be melting your sense of reason because you can’t tell if you’re greedy or just plain stupid. 

“You crying?” Gojo’s voice carries its usual teasing lilt, the one he has specifically for you. You don’t even realize how the fresh tears glaze your vision—as if he didn’t already have enough fuel for the fire.

But you bite your tongue. You bite your tongue because there’s no convincing anyone that he’s crazy and seeing things and the last thing you need is for him to stall some more when you’re already sososo close to the edge.

A slight change in angle. It does the trick, his fingers still bullying that one spot while his palm brushes against your throbbing clit with just as much vigour. Your body tenses, a choked sob escaping your glossy lips as your orgasm hits you like a tsunami. Warm liquid follows soon after, the blue-eyed sorcerer’s movements refusing to halt and making lewd splashing sounds in the process. 

Even once everything simmers down, the impact decides to remain a bit longer. With a heaving chest and stuttering hips, the room stops spinning, slowly but surely.

A low whistle. “If you had to pee, you could have just said so.”

“Why are you like this?”

Gojo hums before slipping his fingers out of your pussy, earning him a slightly pained whimper from you. He stands back up as you wipe away the evidence of your crying, peering up at him when his shadow blankets you. His towering frame never fails to catch you off-guard, but what currently has your attention is the Special Grade sorcerer sucking his digits clean of your juices, a satisfied mewl coming straight from his throat.

“Welp,” he stretches his arms above his head, “we still have a bit of time left before we have that meeting with good ol’ Principal Yaga, so,” the sound of a zipper reaches your ears, and it's only a few seconds later that he pulls out his cock—long, stiff and painfully ready, “why not return the favour?” 

You’re too fucked out to argue against him. That’s the reasoning you’d think of using should he confront you about your willingness to comply. You can’t help it if you’re losing the staring contest against his cock, saliva pooling on your tongue as he taps his vermillion tip against your cheek.

Your lips part as your eyes flutter closed, unable to bear to look at the Special Grade sorcerer as you take him down your throat, inch by inch. The gagging sound that erupts from your throat halfway through makes your brows furrow, and you can only hope the man above you doesn’t comment. With clenched fists sitting on your lap, you further shield your sight with screwed-shut lids as you push yourself to take more, using your tongue for good measure.

A shuddered sigh leaves Gojo’s soft lips when you tease one of his veins. “That’s a good fuckin’ girl.”

You moan in response, feeling bold enough to create a steady pace to bob your head. Whatever you couldn’t reach, your hand took care of, a part of your brain urging you to squeeze him just a bit harder. His responses only grow louder, his groaning and panting setting your face on fire.

“You’re so good at this,” he rasps, his large hand finding the top of your head. Despite his gentle touch, you furrow your brows at the contact. “Too good…” You don’t expect him to slip himself out of your mouth, holding his base away from your mouth and making you finally look up at him. Gojo tilts his head to the side. “You’ve done this before?”

You'd have thought he was teasing if it weren’t for the pout on his lips. You look at him for a moment with an incredulous expression.

“What are you talking about?” You swat his hand out of your hair. “You seriously think being with anyone outside our line of work would be easy?” The male sorcerer’s gaze carries hope at your words, a noticeable shine in those cerulean blues that make your heart stutter. Unsure of what to do next, you continue the lost momentum by pumping his pulsing cock in your hand. “I’m stuck with you, Gojo.”

You figure his shuddered gasp is from your returning touch, especially with the combination of pinched brows, quivering lips and heavy blush on his cheeks and ears. But his large hand on top of yours–the one doing all the work–tells another story.

“You really do like me, Princess!” The sorcerer exclaims, his voice wavering halfway. 

At this point, you don’t care to dissect whether or not he’s pushing your buttons. Even at a time like this….

“I meant I’m settling for you,” you grumble, ignoring how his hand practically devours yours. You manage to retract your hold from his. “Don’t make me bite you.”

Gojo giggles at your threat, his bottom lip slipping between his teeth when you plop his dick back in your mouth. “Don’t threaten me with a good time.”

Without warning, you graze his shaft with your teeth the more you take him in your mouth. Not enough to hurt, but enough to send a message, if your irritated expression wasn’t already doing the job. 

Although, you suppose it is your fault for not taking him seriously either. Your actions earn you a whimper from the Special Grade sorcerer. Not a second later, he has his head thrown back as he pours his load down your throat. Your eyes widen at the overpowering taste, doing what you can to swallow every drop without choking. Even through his orgasm, you find yourself thinking about how he ought to cut down on the sweets. 

You’re quick to pull back for air once Gojo comes down from his high, sputtering in your hand as he sighs happily. 

“Told ya,” he muses, tucking himself back in. You wipe your mouth, glaring at him from your spot on the floor. 

“Whatever,” you grunt, putting your clothes back on before attempting to stand. If he notices your legs still wobbling, he thankfully doesn’t comment. “Let’s just hurry and get to that meeting before Yaga gets mad.”

Gojo hums with a tilt of his head as he watches you dusting off your pants.

“Oh, yeah!” He drops his fist into his palm. You throw a wary look his way when he grins. “We’ve been late this whole time, actually.”

© creative-crybaby, do not repost or modify

[minisugakoobies]

three am | csc, hjs

Pairing: Seungcheol x GNReader (afab) x Joshua

Genre: smut, angst, porn with the barest of plot, non-idol!AU

Rating: M (18+)

Warnings: slight exhibitionism, unexpected voyeurism, threesome, grinding, dirty talk, oral sex (reader receiving), p in v sex (protected), joshua and coups are lowkey sweethearts and highkey horny opportunists, jeonghan is still an asshole

Word Count: 3.5k

Disclaimers: NSFW, obviously I don’t own SVT - they just inspire me

Summary: It’s three am and your ex is nowhere to be found. But his two roommates are there for you.

A/N: Soooo... I wasn't planning on writing a sequel to two am but then someone commented "im begging a pt 2 where she sleeps with cheol or shua or both to fuck with jeonghan" and I blinked and this happened. See how powerful commenting can be??

Although this is technically a sequel, this story can be read as a standalone fic - all you need to know is that Jeonghan is reader's toxic ex, and Joshua and Seungcheol are his roommates.

Unbeta’d as usual. If you like this, please let me know! I’d love to hear what you think (but please be kind I’m fragile 🥺) 💕

SVT Masterlist 💜 Main Masterlist

This is a bad idea.

You knock hard on the door in front of you, as if the motion could knock the words out of your head, too. They’ve been on repeat since you arrived at the building where your ex lives. Kept you company in the elevator. But despite how loud they are, you’re not listening. 

Instead, you’re straining your ears for any sign of life inside the apartment. You’re about to knock again when you hear footsteps. 

They stop, and you hold your breath, waiting. 

The door opens. 

“YN?” It’s Joshua, peering at you from a crack in the doorway. His soft eyes are full of confusion at the sight of you at his door at midnight.  

“Hey Shua,” you smile, calling him by the nickname you used to use, back when you practically lived here as Jeonghan’s girlfriend. “Can I come in?” 

“Uh, sure.” The door closes and reopens as Joshua removes the chain. He steps back to allow you to slip past him. “But, um, ‘Han’s not here?”

“Oh.” You pause, then fish your phone out of your pocket. “But he told me he’d be home by midnight?”

Joshua shrugs, shuffling away from the door. “I dunno when he’ll be back. You can wait here if you want.” He slumps onto the couch, then gestures to the open half. “I’m just watching a movie.” 

You feel his eyes on you as you settle into the saggy cushions. If you looked at him right now, you know he’d be gazing at you with open pity. It’s the same look he gives you whenever he catches you sneaking out of Jeonghan’s bedroom. 

The movie isn’t very interesting, so you scroll through your phone as you wait, trying to be patient. You hate waiting, but this is going to be worth it. 

About 10 minutes later, though, you’re getting antsy. You clear your throat. “Hey, uh, can I get something to drink?”

Joshua’s latent host instincts stumble clumsily to life. “Oh yeah, right, what do you want?”

He shuffles off to the kitchen without waiting for an answer, so you hop up to follow. He pours some Jack Daniels into his glass before adding a little cola, then gestures to a second glass he’s produced from the cupboard. “Whiskey, soda, water, that’s pretty much all we have right now.” 

“Uh, I’ll take the same as you.” You tap your fingers on the counter. “So, uh, how’ve you been?” 

Joshua shrugs. “Same as always, nothing new. I guess I can’t complain but I’d kinda like to.” He grins and hands you your drink, then taps his against yours. “Geonbae.” 

“What are we drinking to?” Seungcheol’s voice is deep and grumbly as he enters the kitchen. Jeonghan’s other roommate was obviously sleeping based not only on his timbre but also the physical state of him - shorts and hoodie rumpled, fluffy dark hair flying in different directions, eyes barely open. At least, until he realizes who you are, at which point they widen. “Oh, shit, hey, YN. I didn’t know… who was here.” 

“Hey Cheollie.” You flash the other man a friendly smile. You’ve always liked Jeonghan’s roommates. They both seem so nice, if a little bro-y. Hard to understand how they’re friends with Jeonghan sometimes. But then again, you once thought he was the sweetest man on the planet, so maybe your judge of character is a bit shit.

One thing you are empirically certain of, though, is that both of Jeonghan’s roommates are so, so fine. Joshua has a lithe frame thanks to his skateboarding while Seungcheol’s got a boxer’s build due to the many hours he spends in the gym. And they both have face cards that have never once in their lives declined.

“We’re drinking to the status quo,” Joshua informs his roommate, sliding him the bottle of Jack. Seungcheol hums, already recovering from the surprise of seeing you. He knows you’re still fucking Jeonghan. It’s just that usually when you’re here, they never actually see you.

Seongcheol lifts his cup. “Keeping it or fucking it up?” 

“Keeping.” Joshua’s eyes flicker to you. Seungcheol nods. 

You take a sip of your drink. The atmosphere in the kitchen is awkward now, both of the men exchanging glances that clearly telegraph that it’s because of you. Part of you wants to flee - but you need to wait it out, if you’re going to get what you want. 

And fuck do you want it. 

Joshua slinks back to the couch. Relieved for a break in the tension, you do the same. Seungcheol drops into the armchair, legs spreading, sculpted thighs catching your eye, before you avert your gaze, reaching for your phone again.

By the time the credits start to roll on the movie you’re thinking it’s time to give up. You finish your drink, setting it on the coffee table before standing. “I’m just gonna…” With that, you head for the exit. “Thanks for the drink.” 

“See ya,” Joshua’s voice floats past you into the hallway as you close the door. It hangs around just as long as you do before disappearing towards the elevator. 

It’s Seungcheol who greets you the next week. He gives you a once-over before letting you in without a word. Vacates the apartment not long after you arrive. Joshua is on the couch again. Remembers to offer you a drink before ignoring you for a solid twenty minutes, after which you leave. 

The third time you show up, Joshua is back at the door. Tonight the surprise in his gaze has been replaced with a knowing, and familiar, look. 

“He’s not here. What did he tell you this time?” 

“Uh…” Caught off guard, you blink rapidly. “He said he’d meet me at midnight again.” You’re a little earlier than you meant to be, too eager to make yourself sit at home much longer. It’s a sickness, really. 

“Uh-huh. And yet, he’s not here again.” He tilts his head, waiting for you to arrive at whatever unspoken conclusion he’s reached.

“Just let them in, man.” Seungcheol raises his head on the couch, giving you a once-over before lying back down. “Don’t get in their business.” 

“Relax, I was going to ask them in.” Joshua rolls his eyes at his roommate as you slip past him towards the empty armchair. “You want a drink?”

He gives you a noticeably stronger pour this week, the alcohol stinging your throat with the first sip. Must be his way of sympathizing. You’re grateful to Seungcheol for shutting down Joshua’s burgeoning interrogation earlier. You don’t require their judgment. You know exactly what you’re doing. 

Which is why you nurse slowly at your cocktail. Both men are on their phones while a baseball game plays on the television. You’re content to scroll on your own phone, listening mindlessly to the sound of the announcing droning in the background. 

Joshua clears his throat. “You know you’re wasting your time, right.”

It’s not a question. 

“Josh…” Seungcheol intones warningly.

“I’m just saying!” Joshua turns so he’s facing you “There’s no reason to sit here and pretend we’re not thinking it.” 

“I’m not thinking it,” his roommate responds, not bothering to look up from his phone as he talks. “You’re the one thinking it. Knock it off.” 

“Hey, if you want to pretend this isn’t weird, fine. But I’m not. I’m calling what I see, and - “

“Dude you’re making it so weird just by pointing it out! If you’d - “

“Guys.” 

They stop arguing and look at you. It’s a little dizzying, honestly, having their combined full attention on you for the first time. 

“I’m not stupid. I know he’s out with someone else.” You hold out your phone, showing the latest post from Jeonghan. As if they weren’t just looking at it on their own screens. 

“He ghosted you. Again.” 

You sigh at Joshua’s declaration. He only presses on. 

“If you hadn’t seen that photo, how long would you have kept waiting? Another fifteen minutes? Half an hour?”

“Damn, what do you want from them?” Seungcheol finally sits up, giving his roommate a look. He’s imposing without even trying to be, his frame towering over Joshua’s as he sits on the floor. 

Joshua doesn’t back down, not concerned in the least. “I want to know what they want!” He suddenly gets up, taking a seat on the corner of the couch next to your armchair. You quirk an eyebrow at him when he takes your hand, holding it gently between his. “YN. What is it you really want?” 

“What is - what are you doing?” You wiggle your hand free from his grip. His concern is somehow touching and condescending at the same time. 

“I’m asking you an honest question. I don’t get it.” Joshua snorts. “There’s no way Jeonghan’s dick is that amazing. Why do you keep coming back when he treats you like shit?” 

You have no answer for that, because you don’t understand it yourself. Why can’t you stay away? 

“YN, you don’t have to answer that.” Seungcheol scoots down the couch so he’s closer to you, close enough for you to breathe in the spicy warmth of his cologne. “But look, I agree with Joshua on one thing. Jeonghan’s being a total asshole to you. You don’t deserve that.”

“Right,” you laugh, sarcasm slipping into your tone, “I forgot. You think I’d remember that by now, given how many times I hear it.” Or at least you used to, back before your friends gave up on convincing you of the truth of that statement. 

Seungcheol examines you with a quiet intensity that makes your heart jump in your chest. “I’m serious,” he finally says. “Always thought you were too good for him.”

Joshua doesn’t give you the time necessary to unpack that weight before he’s adding to it. “Me too.”

“You both… that’s - that’s sweet of you to say.” You draw in a deep breath. “But I don’t need your pity. I don’t want it.”

Joshua shakes his head. “It’s not pity, it’s…” he trails off, shoulders lifting helplessly. “I don’t know. It makes me mad. Why is he out there when he’s got you waiting for him here? Doesn’t he know any other guy would kill to have you show up at their door?!”

His eyes are wide and honest as he speaks, but there’s something else burning there, something that makes your stomach swoop. It’s in Seungcheol’s gaze too as he nods along in agreement with his friend’s words.

“Okay…” you glance away, giggling nervously.

“No, don’t do that,” Joshua says, straightening up, tone serious. “Don’t laugh me off.”

There’s a palpable shift in the mood of the room. An air of frustration tinges everything being said. It makes you squirm a little, and you can tell the other two are feeling it too as Joshua continues.

“You don’t need him. You never did, but you especially don’t now.” He pauses. “And also… ah, fuck, nevermind.”

You feel like you’ve been hanging on his every word. He can’t stop now. “What?”

“I was gonna - I was gonna say - “ Joshua’s gaze lingers on his roommate for a moment. “Fuck, it’s gonna be more awkward now, but - oh, fuck it.” His eyes meet yours again. “If you’re here to get fucked, that can still happen.”

You think you hear Seungcheol curse under his breath, but you can’t break eye contact with Joshua right now. There’s an unusual ferocity in his expression that has your breath hitching in your chest.

After a quiet moment, you speak. “You’re saying…” Seungcheol doesn’t react as your gaze bounces to him, then back to Joshua. “You wanna fuck me?”

“Yeah.”

Again you can't stop yourself from looking at Seungcheol. Of the two, he’s always been the more difficult one to read. Now is no exception. You’d love to know what’s going on behind those dark eyes of his. All you’ve got to go on is the slight furrowing of his brow. Does he think Joshua’s out of line? 

“I-I don’t know what to say.”

Joshua shrugs. “You don’t have to say anything. I’m just letting you know, I’m more than happy to give you what you came here for.”

“I never said that was why I’m here.”

“YN. Come on. We all know.”

“I’m down too.”

Seungcheol chuckles as you and Joshua snap your heads to look at him.

“What? I’m just letting you know, too.”

Joshua mumbles something that ends in “hypocrite,” and gives his roommate a challenging stare. It feels like someone kicked the dial up on the tension in the room. You nibble thoughtfully on your bottom lip, practically tasting it, lit up with a new energy. 

“So you… both… wanna fuck me.”

The longer your sentence lingers out there, the quicker your heart beats. But you’re not about to speak first.

Joshua opens his mouth but Seungcheol cuts him off mid-inhale. “It’ll only be weird if you make it weird.”

It’s not weird. It’s the most you’ve been turned on in ages, sitting with your back to Seungcheol’s chest, both of your legs spread so Joshua can lie between them and eat you out as he’d so kindly offered. That sweet smile of his turns cocky as he easily mouth fucks you into an orgasm, your clit fluttering fast as a hummingbird’s wings. 

There’s only the briefest of discussions about who you want to fuck you first. You’re thinking it over - something tells you that Seungcheol is a ride you’ll need to work yourself up to - when says he doesn’t mind watching if you want Joshua to go first, and you quickly agree. Joshua’s not about to disagree, so you start to shift, to move away from Seungcheol, but he stops you with a strong arm around your waist. 

“Stay here,” he murmurs, lips pressing against the side of your neck. “Wanna feel you fall apart.”

Seungcheol’s other hand has found your clit and is circling lightly. It has you lifting your hips shamelessly, openly seeking more pleasure. You whimper Seungcheol’s name with a shudder, then Joshua’s with surprise when his hands wrap around your thighs and push them up into your stomach.

“You don’t have to move, you’re perfect just like this,” Joshua informs you, and the hunger in his eyes makes you clench in anticipation. “Absolutely perfect.” 

The head of his cock slides into you, just a little, before Joshua pulls back, then thrusts in again. He does this again, and again, going deeper, until your hips are flush. He moves with such gentleness at first, making sure you’re comfortable, that he’s not hurting you in any way. When he knows you’re ready, his hand cups your face, and he kisses you, tongue gliding into your mouth as he slowly strokes into your tight walls. 

“‘Shua!” Somehow his name gets past your tongue and his. You reach for him, fingernails digging into his back, not to hurt, just to hold.

“Just like this,” he groans, the hand on your cheek drifting, pausing at your throat for a moment before brushing over your breast, palm rubbing your nipple roughly enough to elicit a loud whine. “That’s it. Let us hear you, gorgeous.” 

“We hear you with him ,” Seungcheol says, casually confirming what you’ve always known. The rhythmic rolling of your hips into Seungcheol’s groin has your ass rubbing his hard cock. He grips your waist tighter, teeth grazing your earlobe. “I always thought I could make you scream louder.”

“Guess w-we’ll find out,” you stammer, words trembling into breathiness, because it’s hard to talk while Joshua has you bouncing on his cock. Seungcheol hums, placing his thumb under your chin, tilting your face to his for a kiss. 

“Get back here,” Joshua murmurs, raspy voiced and flushed as he nudges his lips into your cheek, knocking Seungcheol away from your mouth. You giggle into Joshua's kiss, while Seungcheol mutters a few low threats against his roommate directly into your ear, all hot breath and low grumbles. A loud creak sounds, and you wonder if Seungcheol’s bed might not be able to handle all this.

Joshua breaks away to glance over your shoulder at Seungcheol. Whatever he sees makes him smirk, and he leans towards you again, lips brushing yours. 

Seungcheol whispers, “Hold on,” and then he slides down the bed until he’s flat on his back. He brings you with him as Joshua straddles his thighs so he can follow, thrusting back into you without a moment’s delay. The swiftness of their movements makes you gasp, has you writhing in desperation against Seungcheol as he spreads your legs, holding them open for Joshua to fuck you harder, faster. You cry with every snap of his hips until it’s practically one long wail. 

“Let it all out, gorgeous,” Joshua urges as he stares down at you from beneath sweaty bangs. He dips his thumb past your parted lips into your mouth, and you instinctively flick your tongue over it before he drags it down to your clit. “Let us hear that sweet voice.” 

“Yeah,” Seungcheol huffs, humping wildly against your ass, his hands so hot on your thighs, keeping your knees spread open like butterfly wings. “Don’t be shy now.” 

You’re not shy at all, sandwiched tightly between the two men, sobbing both their names as your wave crests. Joshua grunts and then he stills as he fills the condom he wears. There’s no sound from Seungcheol, no sudden movements or wetness on your back that lead you to believe he’s also climaxed, and this is confirmed when Joshua finally pulls out and you have the space to move. 

“I said I didn’t mind waiting,” Seungcheol informs you as you eye his big cock again, noting how darkened it is, precum dripping down the shaft. You’re not quite sure you believe him, but it doesn’t matter. Whether or not it’s about to blow, you’re getting on that rocket. 

But before you attempt that challenge - 

“I think I need some water.” 

Joshua merely hums. He’s flopped onto his back, and you can’t tell from this angle if his eyes are even open. 

Seungcheol starts to rise. “I can grab you a b-”

“No, that’s okay,” you cut him off, placing your hands on his shoulders to pull him back to the bed. “I should, um, pee, too. Before we…” 

Seungcheol hesitates, glancing at Joshua, and they exchange a mysterious look before he nods, returning to his spot on the bed. It’s a little chilly, so you grab Joshua’s hoodie and Seungcheol’s shorts and throw them on before darting out into the hallway and into the bathroom. 

You down a glass of water at the sink, staring at yourself in the mirror. Your reflection looks proud. It only took three attempts but you did it. In retrospect, it was surprisingly easy to manipulate your ex’s roommates into a threesome. You just had to play up your patheticness - maybe you should feel a little insulted that the guys bought it so easily, but who cares, it worked. All you need now is a photo or video, to send to Jeonghan the next time he texts. Then your plan will be complete.

Your hand is on Joshua’s door knob when you hear a loud creak. Jeonghan’s door opens.

“I thought I heard your voice.” 

You jump, glaring at your ex. “Fuck, you scared me!” 

“Having fun in there? Sounded like you were.” 

Vaguely, you remember the loud noise you’d heard earlier while you were with Joshua and Seungcheol. That must’ve been Jeonghan getting home. 

Jeonghan leans against his door frame, arms crossing while he takes in your outfit, recognition sweeping over his face. Anger simmers in your gut, stoked by the annoyance you feel at him for scaring you. 

There goes your plan. Although, maybe this will be more fun….

“Yes, I was,” you reply with a grin. Jeonghan scowls, turning away. “Not that it’s any of your fucking business.” 

He laughs sourly, pushing himself off the wall to crowd into your space, blocking Joshua’s door. “You tell yourself that, baby.” He brushes his finger along your cheek, and you shudder. “But it is my business. Because you’ll always be mine.” 

It’s sick, how you want to agree, his sultry voice hypnotizing you like it always does. He drops his hand to your hip, pulling you to him as he kisses you. His lips demand that you yield to him. But not this time. This time, you’re going to resist. 

“I haven’t been yours for a long time, Jeonghan. I just haven’t acted like it.” With two hands on his chest, you push Jeonghan away, 

“Oh, right, but you are now?” He scoffs, rolling his eyes. “Fucking my roommates to prove the point?” 

You shrug. “Did it work?” 

“It’s gonna take more than that to hurt me, baby,” he huffs, but when his eyes meet yours, you catch a brief glimpse of uncertainty beneath the smug expression he wears. 

That’s all you need - that tiny moment of doubt. You’ve got him right where you want him. You step into Jeonghan’s embrace again and kiss him gently. It surprises him, shakes his composure a little, and you slip past him, reaching for Joshua’s door with a sweet smile.

“If you insist.” 

If you liked this fic, please consider reblogging! Likes do not help it get seen by other readers. 💕

© 2024 by minisugakoobies. Crossposted to AO3. Please do not copy or repost. I do not allow translations of my work.

[certifiedcodbabygirl]

Simon Riley who realizes how much he fucked up and that maybe therapy isn't such a bad idea

AN: Lil bit longer than usual, but it's been on my mind

Art credit to SubsurfaceChaos on Twitter

Something was off with him all day. It wasn't too noticeable until he began distancing himself, getting irritated at being around anyone. You confronted him, simply trying to see if you could help or maybe provide comfort, and fuck did that backfire.

He was sitting in the living room watching whatever was on the channel, but it's not like he was paying attention to it. Thoughts and feelings of the deployment he just came back from a few days ago build up, irritation filling him like water in a bathtub. He doesn't usually have flashbacks or anything like that, the military would discharge him if he had PTSD, but some days he thinks too much.

He didn't even notice you coming in until you were sitting next to him. He snaps out of his thoughts just to meet your soft eyes. You sat on the other end of the couch, not wanting to crowd him too much while he's like this.

"What." He deadpans, voice devoid of all emotion.

Yeah something's definitely up.

"What's wrong, Si? Somethin' been messing with you today?" You ask gently, not wanting to come off as if you're accusing him.

He gives you and irritated look, suggesting you drop it, "Nothin', 'm fine"

You're not stupid. He tends to need a little push in order to open up.

"I know you're not", tone still soft, "I'm not trying to irritate you or anything, I ju-"

"Well you certainly got an affinity for it" He snaps, "Drop it"

You inhale, trying to not take his words personally, "Si, I'm your girlfriend, it's kinda my job to check in with you"

The bathtub overflows.

"You can't listen, can you? I said drop it, fuckin' 'ell" He stands up from the couch and walks to the kitchen, trying to create distance.

"Simon I'm just trying to help, I'm not here to make things harder for you" You try to reason with him, swallowing the lump in your throat.

You follow him into the kitchen but still give him space. He doesn't say anything back, a small part of him knowing you're right but the larger part won't connect to that. Pouring a class of orange juice, he keeps his back to you.

"Si-"

"Can you shut up for once?! Can you? I said bloody drop it. It's not up for discussion!" He sets the cup on the counter with a thud and snaps at you, "You're always fuckin' naggin' at me, clearly not takin' a bloody hint. Jesus Christ"

That shuts you up. The lump in your throat intensifies, tears beginning to form in your eyes. He's never yelled at you like that before. Sure, he's had bursts of irritation during arguments, but he's worked hard to make sure he never treats you how you don't deserve.

"Why are you yelling at me? All I'm doing is trying to be there for you" You ask quietly, voice not really allowing you to speak louder. a couple tears fall down your face, and your nose begins to get stuffed up. You try to quietly sniffle but he still hears it. He hangs his head down and groans quietly.

"Now you're fuckin' cryin'. Great."

Not wanting to be around him much longer, you turn to leave, "Come find me when you're calmer", Your voice betrays you and cracks a little.

You walk away and go upstairs to your shared bedroom. Once you close the door, the crying begins. His words cut through you like a knife, a deep pressure-like hurt seeping through your chest. Sobs rack your body yet you still try to be quiet, not wanting him to hear. You know he's gonna snap out of it and fuckin hate himself for what he did. You know he loves you, and if he were in his right mind he would have never uttered a single degrading word to you.

You slip into bed and lay there, crying. You guessed he would be up anytime soon and the smell of him on the pillows was both comforting and hurtful.

Downstairs though, Simon was fucking fuming. Seeing you go up the stairs, lip quivering, evaporated every bit of him anger. He groans loudly and throws an arm over his eyes.

'How fuckin' stupid can you be? How the fuck can you speak to her like that?'

He removes his arm and leans against the counter, arms crossed over his chest. You've stuck through with him since the moment you meet. Never once judged his off stand-ish behavior and learned to find ways to work with him. He cherished you so wholly, feeling what he thought he never would. You came into his life and slowly broke down his walls, allowing you to see him apart from his exterior.

He thought he was going to lose you. Sure, you had arguments before, but he had never purposefully tried to hurt you. Knowing that he did made his stomach churn, nausea kicking in. 2 years of the best relationship (not that there were very many before you) all to be broken down, at least what he thought, because he was pissed off.

'Maybe I should fuckin' go to therapy.'

Let's be honest, he could use it. He tried to go through it before but just quit due to how uncomfortable it made him. He figured he was on his own, all before you, and there was no one to deal with his bullshit besides him. Now he has someone who he cares about so much that it doesn't matter if he's uncomfortable. He'd rather be uncomfortable than never be with you again.

He gathers the balls to go upstairs and carefully opens the door. He's met with the sight of you curled up, your sniffles being the only sound in the room.

"Go away" You call out, although not too loudly. Your voice is wobbly and stuffy.

He'd think it was adorable, had he not been the one to cause it. He walks to the opposite side of the bed and gets in, spooning you. He kisses your hair so gently it would give you butterflies if you weren't so upset.

"I'm so sorry, love. I haven't a clue why I did that to you and you didn't deserve a single lick of it." He feels the small burn in his nose as he starts tearing up a little, "I promise it'll never happen again"

You sniffle as more tears fall, the pain sticking to you despite his words.

"I wasn't trying to piss you off" You whisper.

"I know baby, it wasn't you. I promise it wasn't. Could never be that mad at you" He says softly, a tear falling. He grips you a little bit tighter and kisses the back of your neck, trying to bring comfort to both of you.

"Then why did you yell at me? I've never heard you like that before."

He sighs, "Been thinkin' 'bout what happened while I was gone and it came out at you. 'M gonna go back to therapy 'n try to fix what ever the hell is wrong with me" He kisses your neck again, " 'M gonna do better, gonna be better"

He's not stupid, he knows his words aren't gonna go away overnight. He knows how much you love him, even if he doesn't understand it, and knows hearing that from him hurts more than it would anyone else. He knows you're gonna be affected by them for a bit and he's prepared to fix it. Anything for his love.

You turn around so you're both still on your sides but you're cuddled into his chest. Wasting no time, not even hesitating, he wraps his arms around you and holds you tight. He lets out a sigh of relief, knowing this is your way of accepting his apology. He softly kisses your forehead and cheek, whispering how much he loves you and how it's gonna be better.

He knows he can't run from his issues anymore and for once he's ready to face them.

[ceilidho]

take me home, country road

[ao3]

You have nothing on your person apart from a hastily packed suitcase and the dress you came into town wearing, on the run from trouble back home. Too bad John's missing a bride that matches your description. Or: the 1800s (mistaken) mail order bride au (chapter 11)

first chapter >> last chapter

-

Your heart could very well have stopped beating and you’d be none the wiser.

By now, you’ve experienced fear in all its varietals. The stomach churning and the latent, the languid; the swift moving silverfish slipping out of your grasp. The monstrous rising beast of it the day you turned around to find the master of the house turning the lock on the door and trapping you in with him. Then the delayed panic in the aftermath of bringing the bust down over his head and hearing his skull crack under its weight, the blood pooling around his body, almost aureole-like. Pondering the miraculous like, well, isn’t that just the devil of it. A halo for a man intent on your ruin.

 The fear washing over you now is entirely new though. Like a rapid exhalation. Of course you were right all along . Right to expect the devil showing up on your doorstep. The weeks of silence had imbued you with a sense of confidence. An arrogant, undeserved confidence that whispered in your ear to let your guard down. 

But you know now that the world is not large enough to hide in. It is a wasteland of false prophets and false directions. There are no second chances.

The only consolation is the silence from the man behind the counter as he studies the warrant. You imagine him standing there giving it a good once over, his face maybe scrunching up as it calls to mind the woman that just walked through his door. You wonder if they thought to add a sketch of your likeness, whether there’ll be a woman on the warrant that looks an awful lot like you. 

You stay put behind the shelf though, not risking so much as a peep. 

“Any information you might have would be much obliged,” Graves says, trying to coax an answer out.

After a few more seconds, the shop attendant answers with a rueful, “Can’t say I have, sir. You want me to leave this with the sheriff?”

Graves breathes out through his nose in frustration. “Now, are you positive about that? Take a closer look—I don’t mind waitin’ a bit longer for you to sift through your memories. I’m sure a town as big as this must get passersby from time to time.”

“No. I’m sorry, sir, but I’m certain. Never seen a woman fitting this description or name. Couldn’t even tell you the last time we had a stranger come through town and stay longer than a day.”

“I see.” It’s hard to tell whether Graves takes him at his word or not. The aura of menace that the man exudes suggests that anything said to him might rouse his suspicions. That they’ve already been roused, in fact. It makes even you second guess the man behind the counter, wondering if perhaps he knows and simply stays his tongue. 

“Sorry I couldn’t be of more help. Still want me to pass this along to the sheriff?”

The floorboards creak under his feet when Graves takes a step back. “If you don’t mind. Been having the darndest time tryin’ to track down the man and, frankly, I’ve got other obligations. I do appreciate your time though.”

You stay hidden behind the shelf, listening to the sound of the spurs on his boots rattling as he leaves. The chime on the door jingles when it slams shut. You flinch at the sound. For a minute after his departure, you wonder if the door will burst back open and he’ll come crashing in, heading straight for the back to haul you out by your hair.  

A minute passes and nothing happens. The floor beneath you still feels like it might give out at any moment.

When you take your first step, the nausea comes rushing up. 

“Mrs. Price,” the shop attendant says, perking up at the sight of you coming out from behind the shelf. “I forgot you were still here.”

You feel like an automaton or a ball-jointed doll, your movements stiff as you approach him. Morbidly curious as to what you’ll see on the warrant spread out on the counter separating the two of you. When you look down, your breath comes shuddering out. 

The sketch on the paper does bear a passing resemblance to you, but only if you squint. Nothing that anyone could point to and claim with certainty that it depicts you. Underneath the sketch, you balk when you see your real name. It’s jarring to even look at. Though you’ve gone most of your life answering to it, the past few weeks have disabused you of any connection to it. Now, you feel permeable, malleable—a substance that has been reshaped into something new. That girl on the warrant is gone now. Done and dusted. So detached from memory that even the sketch of her depicts someone else, proves false. 

Still, you’re shaken by how close he’d gotten. Supposing Graves had come in while you’d been within sight. Supposing he’d looked you in the eye and asked you directly, and you’d stuttered under his sharklike gaze and drawn further scrutiny. You almost can’t believe how close it’d grazed you. The sharp edge of fate like a blade now sheathed again. 

“Would you mind taking this to the sheriff?” he asks, not realizing the gift he’s given you. “I’m a bit tied up minding the shop.”

You nod wordlessly and take the folded up warrant from him.

It burns red hot in your hands when you step outside. You glance around nervously, unsure as to whether Graves had stuck around to question more people. You wouldn’t be surprised if he were still within earshot. 

You waver in the street with the folded piece of paper tucked in your hands. A horse pulling along a cart laden with firewood creaks as it passes, rousing you from the trance you’d fallen into. You flinch, raising a hand to shield your eyes from the sun. It’s blinding suddenly. A clear sky, the clouds long since taken away by the wind. 

John could be anywhere at this time of day. Despite the fear curdling in your belly, you can’t help the knee jerk reaction to go to him. That’s precisely what you don’t want to do though. You don’t want to be around the county sheriff on the day a bounty hunter came into town looking for you. 

A crow sitting on the roof of a building across the street caws and flaps its wings, taking off into the sky. 

You want to be anywhere but in town waiting anxiously for John to come find you. You don’t want to lay eyes on him and see that he’s found you out. The thought of John finding out about the man you killed back east is beyond contemplation. It nearly has you keeling over in the middle of the street. You can hardly bear the thought. How could you bear to live a moment beyond that, withering under his disapproval? His contempt? 

You don’t think you can.

Every shadow fills you with dread. A barmaid comes out to toss a bucket of dirty water in the alley and you flinch like you’ve been caught. You keep your head down as you walk, eyes straight on the ground. Someone calls out your fake name and you ignore them. 

Your instinct, as usual, is to run. Abscond from the scene of the crime. Even if the thought hurts. Even though you’d let yourself begin to hope that the times of trouble had passed you by. That perhaps you could’ve made a home out here in the middle of nowhere. You should have known that those dreams were just that. You should have known better than to want. These days, it is dangerous to long for anything.

It’s better if you fade from memory like a bad dream, you think when you spot Buttercup fixed to the post outside the sheriff’s office. Better if they think of you with a bad taste in their mouth and nothing more. A girl that came and stole their sheriff’s heart and his horse and then vanished into the night. 

When one of her black eyes fixes on you, you still in your advance. A horse can’t possibly read your intentions, but you feel like she does somehow. Like she knows you intend to take her and flee. She shifts, hooves coming up and back down, and you swallow the saliva pooling in your mouth suddenly, nerves taking on. You won’t let yourself be ruled by them though. There are bigger things to fear.  

“Come on, Buttercup,” you whisper, hesitating before smoothing your hand down her nose. You flinch when she nickers. “I just—I need you to help me, okay?”

It’s an outrageously bad idea. Even to you that’s obvious. You don’t have nearly enough experience riding solo or even with John trailing behind you on another horse to help offer correction if you falter on your own. You’re blinded by fear though, practically shaking as you undo Buttercup’s lead from the post outside the sheriff’s office. 

You’re clumsy trying to hoist yourself up onto her without John to boost you up and hold you steady. It takes a couple of tries before you manage to swing your leg over, and you curse under your breath when your dress bunches up around your waist, exposing the bare flesh of your legs. There aren’t many people roaming the street, fortunately for you.

Buttercup resists at first when you tug lightly on the reins to guide her away. She stomps her foot when you try again, giving a light whinny. Panic seizes you, a coil in your belly. You’ve only ever ridden her before with John at your side; you wonder if she’ll even listen to you in his absence or if even she can tell you’re about to do something foolish and wants nothing to do with it. 

“Please, girl,” you beg. “I promise—I’ll figure out some way to get you back.”

On the third attempt, she finally listens. The way she abruptly breaks into a fast trot nearly sends you toppling over. You catch yourself by clutching the horn, tight enough that your knuckles ache. Your forehead breaks out in a nervous sweat. Buttercup covers ground fast, and without John sitting behind you like a silent sentinel, you feel control slip out of your slippery hands, clammy with sweat too. 

“Whoa, girl,” you breathe, trying to calm her by stroking a hand down her neck. 

It does precious little to calm her down. You remember something John once said about animals smelling fear. They know it like your name. 

You lose control of her fast. Almost in the blink of an eye, you go from steering Buttercup towards John’s house to holding on for dear life. Your body rocks with hers and you’re forced to tighten your thighs around her midsection when she breaks into a gallop, your hands still clinging tight to the reins. Her hooves kick up dust and dirt in her haste, sending it flying behind you. 

“Slow down!” you shout, but the words are swept away by the wind, already behind you. 

Not once have you ever ridden a horse at this speed. Your direction seems like more of a suggestion to Buttercup, and not one she’s inclined to take. The town rapidly vanishes behind you, the vegetation sparse for the first few hundred yards, arid scrubland scorched by the sun and fed off of by the horses and mules coming in and out of town. The sun beats down hot on your head, no hat to shield you from the heat.

You can’t imagine you would’ve been able to hold it down though, you think wildly, mind still in a flurry of panic. It would’ve flown right off ages before. 

Your breath comes out in hitched pants as you clutch with all your might to the horn of the saddle, your hands soon transferring to her mane for better purchase. Buttercup moves like a rogue wave beneath you, like something sailors only speak about in hushed whispers. She takes a wide arc around John’s property, heading towards the mountains instead, and no amount of trying to steer her with your legs seems to work. 

Your head whips back to watch the house pass, the dark shape of it sailing past you, and it nearly causes you to lose your balance. Looking back in front of you only makes it worse. Panic courses through you when you stare ahead only for the world in front of you to spin. Bile creeps up your throat. You swallow it back, but only just.

The half-formulated plan you’d had in mind is long gone. All you can focus on now is remaining astride the horse beating dirt under you. Any thought of bringing her to a halt dissipates. Even the thought of escape evaporates into thin air. 

Only when you feel Buttercup slow to a trot do you peel open your eyes. The breath you let out as you look around is short, panic still churning in your guts.

Over the weeks since John married you and took you home, he’s taken you through the mountains a fair few times, familiarizing you with the land to the best of his abilities in such a short amount of time. But the wilderness stretches far and the terrain beyond John’s homestead is rough, treacherous. 

When you look around, you realize that you don’t recognize this part of the mountainside. 

The trail Buttercup takes you down is cut haphazard into the landscape—a crude, handmade path, not one seared into the ground from frequent travel. It feels distinctly wilder than where you’ve been before. Your head swivels around as you try to look for something that might jog your memory. The striated mountainside tells you nothing. The trees out this deep into the mountains are thicker and older, gnarled root systems bursting up from the earth and coiling around the nearby rocks like snakes winding around their prey. 

You sit up a bit straighter, still shaking when you rub your hand down Buttercup’s neck. “You know where we are, girl?”

She puffs out a breath.

That tells you nothing, but she keeps going down the same path deeper into the woods. No amount of squeezing your thighs or patting her neck gets her to stop. You should be thankful that she’s at least no longer sprinting, that you can actually sit up and catch your breath now, but the fear from earlier is but a paltry shadow compared to that which is brewing in you now. 

Every crick and snapping twig makes your head spin round. You stare intensely past the treeline, searching for the barest hint of motion. You don’t know much about these parts, but you know that this is no place for a woman by her lonesome. Even a man on his own out here might feel jumpy. This far out of the way, only cougars and bears take refuge, and the odd band of outlaws making camp for the night and taking advantage of the relative isolation this far out west. 

“Come on, girl, we can’t be out here,” you whisper, leaning closer to Buttercup to hopefully muffle your voice. Even as low as you speak, it still seems to echo.

You don’t know where you’re meant to go though. In the flurry of panic that had come over you at Graves’ arrival, you’d bolted without thought. Without a compass or map, you’re as good as lost in the unsettled land deep in the mountains. 

As that reality dawns on you, you realize that you haven’t had a drink of water in quite some time. 

An hour must pass with Buttercup stubbornly refusing to listen to your commands to turn back. Maybe longer. She resists even when you pull on the reins. In truth, you don’t blame her. Your commands come feeble, no strength behind them. The fear of being bucked off her back makes you soft. John would be gruff, unyielding—you can’t imagine him giving into fear.

That somehow upsets you even more. You can’t help but wish more than anything that he were here with you. 

The temperature drops as the sun begins to set. Without the sun beating down on you, you shiver in the cold air. There’s nothing to keep you warm other than the clothes on your back. Your lips smack when you part them, parched after hours without water. You haven’t stumbled across a river or stream in the hours since starting down this path.

Then, from behind you, you hear it. 

The name that isn’t yours. You don’t catch it at first until it comes again, louder this time. When you look over your shoulder and down the path behind you, John’s furious face stares back at you, his lips worked into a flat line. 

The way you gasp must spook Buttercup, because she abruptly breaks into a gallop, forcing you to hunker down and hold on. You want desperately to look back, torn between relief and distress, but you stare ahead instead. 

The black horse he rides gains on you fast, legs pumping beneath its massive body. It’s not a horse you’ve seen before. Maybe borrowed in his haste to chase after you. You don’t let yourself digest that thought though, too concerned with remaining astride. 

Despite its size, it collapses the distance between you two quickly, nearly on you now. Instinct has you leaning into Buttercup, trying to get as low as possible and let the air glide around you. Her gallop quickens into a sprint. You’re just holding on now, facing straight ahead, no chance of being more than a passenger on this trip. 

John shouts at you from your rear to bring Buttercup to a stop. You squeeze your lips together instead of shouting back that you can’t. If you open your mouth, you think your stomach will come straight out. 

Your body jostles around on top of your horse, on the verge of slipping off with every passing second. When she takes a turn too quickly down a trail leading up into the mountains and you slide a bit to one side on the saddle, only your foot in the stirrup catching you, your heart stops. Fear is ice inverted; poured over you. It drenches you in another layer of sweat that dries rapidly in the air whipping around you. 

Hot and cold. The ground seems to come towards you every time Buttercup’s legs kick up. Always on the verge of falling and breaking every bone in your body. You suck your tongue to the roof of your mouth so it doesn’t get caught between your clacking teeth and bitten right off. 

“Pull up on the reins!” John roars over the cacophony of stomping hooves. 

A glance to your right finds him close enough to graze with your fingertips. Your heart jumps in your chest.

“Pull up!” he shouts again, but all you can do is stare uncomprehendingly. 

You don’t know if he can see the terror in your eyes. It must be splayed clean across your face. He has to see the way his words mean nothing to you. Your panic effaces any meaning; all you hear is noise and anger pouring from his mouth, and trampled dirt and labored breath. 

When his horse pulls up alongside yours, he gets close enough to lean over and snatch the reins out of your hands. He pulls firm, tugging Buttercup’s head back until she almost rears up and you scream, hands fisting in her mane. 

Your body lurches forward when she comes back down, slumped over the saddle horn. It digs hard into your stomach. There’ll be a bruise there come morning, but nothing like the bruises that’ll bloom between your thighs. Even now the ache radiates down your body. You look up at the sound of John’s breath panting out like a bull, and he glares down at you with undisguised fury, the angriest you’ve ever seen him. 

“What in the blazes were you thinkin’?” he booms. Even the horse he sits astride shakes its head at the sound. “There’s nothing out here but outlaws and predators!”

The hand fisted in Buttercup’s reins pulls her closer, and he guides both horses into a slow trot and then to a stop. You can feel the way Buttercup’s ribs expand and contract under your legs. 

“Stop it— don’t touch me!” you snap when he reaches for you, smacking his hand away.

“Darlin’, if you get off that damned horse—” John warns, but you’re already swinging your leg over the saddle as the words come out of his mouth. 

You almost trip over the stirrup when you slide off Buttercup’s back and take off on foot. You fist the skirt of your dress in both hands to lift it as you run, letting it swish around you with the force of your strides. A curse and grunt come from back behind you. The sound of John’s boots hitting the dirt is loud, and when he chases after you, his boots pound into the earth.  

It’s a desperate last move, but all you can think is that you’d rather be anywhere else but in his arms. You’d rather take your chances with the wolves and bears in the woods, or with the bandits and brigands on the trails leading to the next town. 

You barely make it past the next tree before he barrels into you and takes you both to the ground, the world spinning as you fall down. He angles his body to take the brunt of the impact, but you still cry out when your hip hits the ground hard. The way he pulls you into his chest just barely keeps your head from slamming into a rock. 

“Goddamn it, woman,” John spits. “Where d’ya think you’re even going? There ain’t nowhere to run out here!”

Your head spins. When you open your mouth, all you can taste is rust and salt, sweat dripping off your upper lip. You can feel the heat of his chest against your back and he doesn’t give you a chance to gather your bearings before hauling you to your feet, tugging both of your arms behind your back. 

“Let me go!” you scream, trying to wrestle out of his hold to no avail. 

You know he doesn’t understand, but you can’t help the way you try to fight your way out of his hold. There’s no explanation that’ll make sense to him other than the truth, which you clamp tight in your chest. There's no telling if he already knows, if maybe Graves finally tracked him down or if someone else brought their suspicions to his attention, but you won't go spilling the truth yourself. 

He’s a solid mass behind you, breath labored from hours spent tracking you. You wonder if he noticed mere moments after you took Buttercup and left or whether he came back to the sheriff’s office only to find the two of you gone. 

John holds your wrists in one big hand at the small of your back and gives you a mean shake. “I don’t know what’s got you so riled up, but you better fix this attitude of yours and explain yourself before we get home or so help me God, I’ll take my belt to your ass.”

The mention of him belting your backside makes your hands go clammy, but you must have abandoned your common sense a mile back because your mouth keeps running. “I’ll gut you like a pig if you touch a hair on my head!” 

“We’ll just see about that,” he grunts, and you can hear the raw edged smirk in his voice and the anger behind it. 

When he leads you stumbling towards the horses waiting in the middle of the trail, you realize that capture had always been an inevitability in your mind. Maybe it even comes as a relief to know that the jig is up. 

You just hadn’t realized that it would be someone else hauling you back by your hair.

[ha-rinrin]

Torn Between Fire and Ice Sequel

Continuation of this fic, if you haven't read it, please do before reading this otherwise you won't understand most of it.

Pairing: Jinx x fem!reader (Caitlyns little sister)

Word count: 20k

Warning: smut

Authors note: well.. this took longer than expected. I got carried away and made it way to long, sorry for that, if this isn't what you expected I'm sorry to disappoint. To be honest, I’m not completely satisfied with it, but oh well—too late now.

materlist

You’re curled up on Jinx’s makeshift couch, nestled against her in the dim, cluttered space she calls home. Her arms are wrapped around you, holding you close like she’s afraid to let go. The familiar scent of gunpowder and paint clings to her clothes, grounding you in the chaos that somehow feels safer than anywhere else.

Jinx’s fingers trace absent patterns on your arm, her breath soft against your temple. For a while, neither of you speaks. The silence is comfortable, almost fragile—like if either of you says anything, it’ll shatter the small bubble you’ve created here. But after a moment, she tilts her head, her voice breaking through the quiet.

“So…” she says, her voice low, almost hesitant, “you going back home after this?”

The question hangs in the air, and you feel the weight of it press down on your chest. Home. Back to Piltover, back to Caitlyn, back to the reality you’d been hiding from. You can still see the hurt in your sister’s eyes, the betrayal, the shock of seeing you with Jinx. It’s all too fresh, too raw, and just thinking about it makes your stomach twist.

But here, in Jinx’s arms, the choice doesn’t feel so simple. Here, you feel like you’re allowed to be who you are—no pretenses, no expectations. Just you, with her.

You sigh, resting your head against her shoulder. “I don’t know,” you admit, your voice barely above a whisper. “Going back feels… complicated.” The words feel like an understatement, but they’re all you have for now.

Jinx goes quiet for a moment, her hand slowing in its gentle path along your arm. She doesn’t ask you to explain, doesn’t press you for more. Instead, she shifts slightly, tightening her arms around you in a silent show of support.

“Guess I’m pretty complicated too,” she says with a smirk, though her tone is softer, more thoughtful than usual. “Ain’t easy, sticking around with me.”

You can’t help but smile, reaching up to brush a stray strand of blue hair from her face. “You’re complicated, sure. But… I’m not exactly in this for easy.”

Her eyes meet yours, and for once, there’s no glint of mischief, no teasing smirk—just a vulnerable, honest expression that she rarely lets anyone see. “I don’t wanna be the reason you lose everything,” she murmurs.

You shift a little closer, taking her hand in yours, your thumb tracing over her knuckles. The weight of her words settles in your chest, heavy and tender. It’s strange, seeing Jinx like this—unguarded, stripped of her bravado, and revealing the part of her that worries, that cares.

“You’re not,” you say softly, squeezing her hand. “It’s not that simple. Caitlyn… she just doesn’t understand.”

Jinx lets out a bitter laugh, her fingers lacing with yours. “Yeah, can’t really blame her,” she mutters, her gaze slipping away, focusing on some far-off point in the room. “All she’s ever seen is… well, you know. The explosions, the chaos. The mess I leave behind.” She falls silent, her jaw clenched, and for a second, you can see the cracks beneath her tough exterior.

You shift, lifting her chin gently so she’s looking at you. “I don’t care what she thinks. I know who you are, Jinx. Who you are with me.”

Her eyes search yours, a flicker of doubt giving way to something softer, something almost hopeful. She opens her mouth to say something, but then closes it, like she can’t find the right words. Instead, she leans into you, resting her forehead against yours, her breath mingling with yours in the quiet.

“I never thought I’d have this,” she whispers, her voice raw. “Someone who… who’s willing to look past all that. To stay.”

Her vulnerability pulls at something deep inside you, and you feel your own heart aching in response. You press a gentle kiss to her forehead, brushing away the doubts, the fears that linger there. “I’m here,” you murmur against her skin. “And I’m not going anywhere.”

Jinx lets out a shaky breath, her arms tightening around you like she’s afraid you’ll slip away. “Good,” she murmurs, her voice steadying as she pulls you closer, her head resting against your shoulder. “Because you’re the only thing that makes any of this make sense.”

Jinx shifts beside you, playing with a loose thread on her sleeve as if she’s trying to find the right words. After a moment, she glances up, her expression softer, more serious than usual.

“You know…” she starts, her voice hesitant. “Maybe… maybe you should go home. Just to grab some of your things.” Her fingers trace patterns on your arm as she speaks, her gaze focused on the movement. “I mean, if you don’t wanna go back for good, that’s fine. You can… stay here. With me. If you want.”

You blink, caught off guard by her offer. It’s not like Jinx to suggest something so practical, and the thought of staying here, of making this place your own hideaway with her, sends a strange warmth through you.

“You… you’d want that?” you ask, your voice barely a whisper.

She meets your gaze, and for once, there’s no teasing, no smirk—just an earnestness that makes your heart skip. “Look, I know this isn’t much.” She gestures to the cluttered room around you, a mix of salvaged gadgets, paint-splattered walls, and the faint scent of oil and metal. “But it’s real. And I’m here. So… if it’d help, you’re welcome to stay as long as you want. Long as you’re okay with all this mess.”

You can feel the vulnerability in her words, the unspoken fear that you’ll say no, that you’ll choose something safer, cleaner. But as you look around, you can’t help but smile. It may be chaotic, but it’s hers—warm and full of life in a way that nowhere else is.

“Yeah,” you say softly, squeezing her hand. “I’d like that.”

Her eyes light up with a spark of relief, her lips curling into a genuine, lopsided grin. “Good. 'Cause I was worried you’d miss all your fancy Piltover stuff.”

You laugh, nudging her playfully. “I think I’ll survive. Besides, I can just grab a few things and bring them here.”

Jinx’s grin widens, her hand finding its way to your cheek as she leans in, her voice soft. “Then it’s settled. You’re staying with me.”

You slipped back into Piltover as discreetly as you could, taking a winding path through the quieter alleys to avoid any unwanted attention. With each step closer to your house, the memory of that last encounter with Caitlyn burned fresh in your mind—the cutting words, the anger in her eyes, the undeniable rift between you. You hesitated at your door, hand lingering on the handle, knowing that opening it meant facing everything you’d tried to leave behind in Zaun.

Steeling yourself, you stepped inside, the familiar space feeling strange now, as if you never belonged there in the first place. You moved quickly through the house, heading to your room, trying to gather the essentials. As you stuffed a few clothes into a bag, the silence grew louder, almost mocking you.

And then you heard footsteps behind you.

“You finally came back, huh?” Caitlyn’s voice cut through the tension, sharp and accusatory. You spun around to see her standing in the doorway, arms crossed, her expression a mix of concern and fury.

“I thought I told you to stay away from her!” she snapped, taking a step closer.

“And choosing Jinx is a mistake!” Caitlyn pressed, her voice rising. “You have no idea what you’re getting into. She’ll destroy you!”

“Maybe I don’t care,” you replied, a defiance sparking in your chest. “You don’t get to dictate my fucking life.” your fingers digging into your palm as if trying to anchor yourself against the wave of frustration threatening to drown you.

At that moment, your mom's voice broke in, steady and commanding, A knot twisted in your stomach. “What’s going on here?” Cassandra Kiramman stood at the threshold of your room, her presence imposing.

Caitlyn immediately turned to her, the anger shifting focus. “Mom, she’s been with that… that criminal. You have to do something!” Your shoulders tensed with each word that left her mouth.

Your mom’s brow furrowed, her eyes darting between you and Caitlyn. “What do you mean? What’s going on?”

“She's involved with Jinx,” Caitlyn spat, urgency lacing her tone. “Mom, you know what she’s done, what she is. This isn’t just a phase for her—this is dangerous!” You clenched your jaw tight, she didn't know Jinx like you did, if she did, she wouldn't be spitting shit.

Your mother’s expression shifted from surprise to alarm, the weight of her role on the council pressing down on her. “Jinx? You’re serious?” Her voice trembled slightly, a rare crack in her usual composure. “You know what she’s capable of. She thrives on chaos, and we all know it.”

“Cait, stop!” you interjected, your frustration flaring. “I’m not some helpless child. I can make my own choices.” your voice sharp with frustration as you squared your shoulders, hands curling into tense fists at your sides.

Your mom's eyes narrowed, her motherly instincts kicking in. “Choosing Jinx is a terrible decision! You can’t possibly understand the risks involved. She’s a criminal, a threat to everything we’ve worked for.”

“I’m not ignoring anything!” you retorted, the anger boiling over. “I know who she is, and I’m still choosing to be with her.” you retorted, your voice trembling.

Caitlyn shook her head, disbelief etched on her features. “You’re making a huge mistake. You’re putting yourself in danger—she’ll ruin you!”

“Enough!” your mom commanded, stepping into the room with an imposing presence. “This is not a game. Jinx is reckless and unpredictable. Do you really think you can handle her?”

Your heart raced, a mix of defiance and desperation swirling inside you. “I’m not a child anymore! get that through your head. I can decide for myself!”

“Is that what you really think this is all about?” Cassandra’s voice dropped, laced with a blend of fear and urgency. “I’ve seen what she can do. She’s not just a bad influence—she’ll drag you into a life of chaos and danger. You’re risking everything!”

Caitlyn stepped forward, anger blazing in her eyes. “You’re playing with fire! You’re risking your future for someone who doesn’t care about you. I’m trying to protect you!”

“Protect me?!” you exclaimed, feeling the walls close in. “You’re just scared because you don’t understand our relationship!”

“Scared?” Caitlyn retorted, disbelief written all over her face. “No, I’m furious! I won’t stand by while you make a huge mistake!”

Your mom took a breath, her authority tinged with desperation. “This isn’t just about you; it’s about the danger Jinx represents. She’s hurt people—she’ll hurt you too!”

The air in the room thickened, the intensity palpable as you felt trapped between their concerns.

“I don’t need your protection!” you shouted, your voice echoing in the charged atmosphere. “I can handle myself!”

“You’re acting like this is some kind of romance when it’s a disaster waiting to happen!” Caitlyn shot back, her frustration bubbling over.

Caitlyn stepped closer, her eyes blazing with intensity. “This is about saving you from yourself. You deserve better than someone like her!”

Your mom’s gaze softened, but the fear in her eyes was unmistakable. “I love you. Please, don’t make this harder than it has to be. You know the council takes Jinx seriously. She’s a liability. You’re not thinking clearly!”

She took a deep breath, her voice steady but filled with urgency. “If Jinx gets caught, I won’t be able to protect her. She’ll be sent to Stillwater without hesitation. And if you’re with her when it happens, you’ll be seen as an accomplice. Do you understand what that means for you?”

You could feel the weight of her words pressing down on you, the gravity of the situation sinking in. The thought of Jinx being locked away, isolated and forgotten in that prison, made your heart ache. But you couldn’t let that fear dictate your choices.

“I can’t let you do this,” you said, voice trembling. “I won’t let you ruin what I have with her.”

Caitlyn’s expression shifted, a mix of disbelief and anger. “You’re not seeing how serious this is! You’re risking everything—your safety, your future! Jinx doesn’t care about you.”

Your mom interjected, her tone urgent. “This isn’t just a phase; this is your life. If she keeps this up, I will have no choice but to act. I won’t lose you to someone like her!”

The tension in the room was palpable as you felt trapped, your whole body shaking from all the emotions coursing through you.

“Maybe I’m willing to take that risk. Maybe I’d rather be with her than live a life dictated by fear,” you said, desperation creeping into your voice.

Caitlyn shook her head, rage flashing in her eyes. “You’re making a huge mistake. You’ll end up in Stillwater too—just for being close to her!”

Your mom stepped forward, her expression serious. “Think about what you’re saying. You’re putting yourself in a position where the council will see you as a threat. You could lose everything you’ve worked for, everything we’ve built as a family.”

As their words echoed in your mind, the weight of the consequences loomed larger. But in your heart, you knew one thing: you would fight for Jinx, no matter what it took.

You could see the desperation etched on Caitlyn's face, the genuine worry underlying her fury. And then there was your mom, her steady gaze trying to pierce through your defiance, a plea masked as authority.

“Do you really think Jinx will choose you over her own freedom?” Caitlyn pressed, her voice low but fierce. “She’s not some fairy tale character who’ll ride off into the sunset with you. She’s a criminal,a murderer,  and here you’re setting yourself up for heartbreak.”

You swallowed hard, the weight of her words crashing down like a wave. “What do you want me to do? Just forget her? Pretend we never happened?”

“Yes!” Caitlyn exclaimed, her voice rising again. “It’s not about forgetting; it’s about surviving. Jinx will only bring you pain and danger. You have no idea what you're stepping into!”

“I’m not running away from my feelings,” you shot back, your voice growing more confident. “If Jinx is captured, then yes, I might suffer the consequences. But I’ll face those consequences knowing I stood by her.”

Your mom took a step forward, her eyes searching yours, pleading for understanding. “You think you’re prepared for what comes next? If she’s caught, they won’t just throw her in Stillwater; they’ll make an example of her. And if you’re involved, you’ll be branded a criminal too.”

Caitlyn interjected, her voice softer now but still urgent. “Please, think about your future. You’re on the brink of adulthood; you have your whole life ahead of you. Jinx won’t wait for you to figure things out. She’ll pull you into her world, and it’s not a world you want to be part of.”

You felt the weight of their concerns pressing in, but your heart was resolute. “Maybe I want to be part of that world. Jinx makes me feel alive in ways I never imagined.”

“Alive?” Caitlyn scoffed, disbelief etched across her features. “What kind of life is this? One filled with chaos, danger, and heartbreak? You need to see Jinx for who she really is.”

The tension in the room thickened, and for a moment, it felt like a standoff—two sides of a battlefield, each fighting for their version of the truth. Your mind raced with the potential consequences, yet all you could think about was Jinx, her wild laughter, her gentle caresses, and the moments you shared.

“Look,” you finally said, your voice steadying, “I can’t promise you that things will be easy. But I know what I feel for Jinx is real, and I refuse to let anyone take that away from me. I’ll find a way to make this work, no matter what happens.”

Your mom’s expression shifted, her eyes clouded with fear. “If you choose this path, you need to be prepared for the fallout. I won’t stand by while you throw your life away for someone who may not be worth it.”

“I have to make my own choices,” you insisted. “You can’t protect me from everything. If Jinx is sent to Stillwater, then I’ll find a way to help her. I’ll fight for her, no matter the cost.”

With that declaration hanging in the air, you felt a sense of clarity, a resolve that ignited your spirit. Caitlyn’s frustration radiated from her, and your mom’s fear was palpable, but you stood firm in your decision.

“Just remember,” your mom said, her voice low and serious, “you’re not just risking yourself; you’re risking everything we’ve built together. I hope you realize what that means before it’s too late.”

The weight of her words lingered in the silence, but in your heart, you knew you had to follow your path—whatever it might bring.

Your sister and mom finally left you alone, closing the door on their way out, you were alone, just you and your thoughts.

With your backpack slung over your shoulder, you reached for the door, ready to face whatever lay outside. But when you turned the handle, it wouldn’t budge. You twisted it again, more forcefully this time, but the door remained stubbornly locked.

“Seriously?” you muttered, trying again and again to open the door,  frustration bubbling within you. “Mom, you can’t be serious.”

Caitlyn talked through the door, “We’re doing this for your own good,” she insisted, her voice steady. “You don’t see the danger you’re putting yourself in.”

You turned back to the door, rattling the handle as if it would magically give in. “Let me out! I can handle this!”

“No,” your mom said, her voice firm. “You need to understand that this isn’t just about you and Jinx. It’s about the risks she brings into your life.”

“Risk?” you scoffed, heart pounding in frustration. “What risk? The only thing I’m risking is my happiness by not being with her!”

“You’re being reckless. You don’t even know what Jinx is capable of. You think it’s all fun and games, but it’s not. You’ll end up hurt, and I won’t let that happen.”

“How many times do I have to say this!, I’m not a kid anymore, Caitlyn!” you shot back, anger flaring. “I’m old enough to make my own choices, and I choose Jinx. You can’t just lock me away because you’re scared!”

Your mom’s voice softened. “It’s not fear. It’s love. I can’t stand by and watch you throw everything away for someone like her.”

“What if I don’t care about everything?” you shouted, the words spilling out before you could think. “What if I’d rather have Jinx and deal with the consequences than live a life without her?”

Caitlyn’s eyes flashed with frustration. “You’re being selfish! You don’t understand what’s at stake.”

“Selfish?!” you yelled, the tension in the room reaching a boiling point. “You’re the one who’s being selfish by trying to control my life!”

The air was thick with tension, each heartbeat echoing the conflict swirling around you. You turned back to the door, pulling at the handle again, desperation rising. “Let me out!”

“No!” Caitlyn’s voice rang out, firm and unyielding. “You need to think about this. You’re making a huge mistake, and I won’t let you ruin your life over some misguided infatuation!”

Your mom stepped forward, her tone serious. “This is not a decision you can take lightly. Jinx is a wanted criminal, and she’ll drag you into her world. Do you understand the risks? The council won’t hesitate to take action if they catch her again, and if you’re with her…”

“I know!” you shouted, feeling the weight of their words crashing down. “I know what I’m getting into. But I can’t just walk away from someone who makes me feel alive!”

Caitlyn’s expression softened slightly, her anger giving way to something closer to concern. “You don’t have to do this alone. We can help you, but you need to let us in.”

The weight of her plea hung in the air, and for a moment, doubt flickered in your heart. “Help me how? By forcing me to abandon everything I care about?”

“We want what’s best for you,” Caitlyn insisted, her voice steady. “But this isn’t the way. You’re playing with fire.”

As you stood there, caught between their worry and your determination, you felt the gravity of the situation sink in. But in your heart, you knew one thing: you couldn’t abandon Jinx. You wouldn’t.

With a heavy sigh, you turned away from the door, the reality of your choices pressing down on you. “I can’t just forget about her. I won’t let you lock me away to try and prevent me from seeing Jinx.”

“Then you’re choosing this path on your own,” your mom said, her voice laced with sadness. “But just remember, the council doesn’t play games. If they see you with Jinx, it won’t just be her that pays the price. You will too.”

And with that, the tension settled back into the room, leaving you feeling trapped, not just physically but emotionally, as the weight of your choices loomed larger than ever.

The house was silent now, the echoes of the confrontation still ringing in your ears. You stood by the window, staring out into the night, and it suddenly clicked: this was your only escape route. Your heart raced as you took a deep breath, looking back to your door, where your mom and sister where, just behind it.

You stepped out of the window, feeling the cool night air rush past you. Just as you steadied yourself on the edge of the roof, a hand reached out to help you up. You gasped in surprise, your heart skipping a beat. Jinx stood there, her wild blue hair illuminated by the moonlight, a grin stretching across her face.

“About time you made a move!” she said, a mix of relief and mischief dancing in her eyes.

“I didn’t know you were here!” you exclaimed, still catching your breath.

“Yeah, I’ve been waiting. Heard the shouting match—sounded intense,” she replied, her tone shifting to something more serious. “Are you okay?”

You looked back at the dark silhouette of your home, the memories of your family flooding your mind. “No… but I will be,” you murmured, the weight of leaving everything you knew pressing down on you.

Jinx stepped closer, her expression softening. “We’re getting out of here. I promise I’ll be with you every step of the way okay?,” she said, her voice steady.

You nodded, gratitude filling you. As she guided you along the roof towards the edge, a wave of melancholy washed over you. The city below, with its familiar sights and sounds, felt like a distant memory. Leaving your family, your sister, everything you had known stung deeply, but you pushed the feelings aside, knowing you had to focus on the path ahead.

With Jinx by your side, you prepared to step into the shadows of Zaun, where new beginnings awaited, even as the weight of your past lingered in your heart.

You’re lying on the worn couch in Jinx’s hideout, your body pressed against hers. Your face is nestled in the crook of her neck, feeling the warmth of her skin. One of your legs is draped comfortably across her waist, while the other is tucked beneath you. Jinx wraps her arms around you, holding you close. One of her hands rests gently on your thigh, grounding you with its warmth, while the other hand softly traces patterns along your back, providing a soothing rhythm. You can feel her heartbeat steady against you, which helps calm the storm of emotions inside.

As you lie together, you feel her warmth seep into you, wrapping around you like a protective blanket. “Hey,” she whispers softly, her voice barely above a murmur, “I’m right here.”

You shift slightly, seeking her gaze. Her eyes are bright with concern, but there’s also a spark of something playful, a glimmer that reminds you of why you fell for her. “You know,” she continues, her fingers still dancing along your back, “you’re the best thing I’ve got”

A soft smile creeps onto your face at her words, but it quickly fades as the weight of your feelings crashes back in. You’ve left so much behind—your family, your old life—because they could never understand your love for her. “I feel like I lost everything,” you admit, your voice shaking as  tears finally spill down your cheeks little by little.

Jinx’s expression shifts as she takes in your tears, her brow furrowing with concern. She leans closer, brushing her lips against your forehead. “It’s okay to feel like that,” she murmurs, her voice soft and steady. “You’ve been through so much.”

You can feel her warmth radiating through the fabric of your clothes, a comforting presence against the weight of your sorrow. “I want to be strong for you, but sometimes it feels too heavy,” you confess, your voice trembling. The truth spills out, raw and unfiltered. “I miss them, Jinx. I miss my sister, my mom, everything I left behind.”

Her hold tightens around you as if she can shield you from the hurt. “I wish I could take it all away,” she whispers, her breath warm against your skin. “But just remember, you’re not alone in this. You have me. I’m right here.”

Jinx’s sincerity washes over you, a balm to your aching heart. You lift your head slightly, locking your gaze with hers. The glimmer of determination in her eyes makes you feel seen, understood. “I don’t know what I’d do without you,” you admit, your voice thick with emotion.

“Then don’t think about it,” she replies, a hint of mischief in her tone as she tries to lighten the moment. “Just focus on us, on this—here and now. We’ll figure everything out together.”

She nudges your cheek with her nose playfully, a gesture meant to coax a smile out of you. It works, just a little. The corner of your lips twitch, and you can’t help but let out a soft laugh through your tears. Jinx’s eyes light up at that, and she leans in to plant a soft kiss on your lips, sealing the moment with warmth and love.

With her arms still wrapped securely around you, you find solace in her presence. The world outside fades, leaving just the two of you.

You feel cocooned in the moment, the chaos of the world outside Jinx's hideout dimming to a distant hum. The scent of her hair—sweet and a little smoky—fills your senses, grounding you even more. Jinx pulls back slightly, her eyes searching yours, as if she’s memorizing every detail, every emotion swirling behind them.

“You know,” she begins, her tone softening, “I’m not exactly a ‘normal’ girl. I might be a bit… chaotic.” A small, playful grin tugs at her lips, a mischievous spark igniting in her gaze. “But I promise to always be your chaos. Just like I’m your explosion, you’re my spark.”

Her words hang in the air, warm and comforting. You can’t help but smile, feeling the familiar flutter of affection blooming in your chest. “I wouldn’t have it any other way,” you reply, your voice a mix of sincerity and teasing.

With a playful nudge, Jinx leans back, stretching her legs out and tugging you closer, as if wanting to make sure you’re tucked in securely. “See? We’re a perfect mess together,” she giggles, her laughter lightening the mood even more.

“Yeah, a beautiful mess,” you add, your heart swelling with love.

Jinx’s expression softens, and she brushes a thumb along your cheek, wiping away the remnants of your tears. “Let’s make a deal,” she says suddenly, her eyes sparkling with mischief again. “For every sad moment we have, we’ll balance it out with something ridiculous and fun. Like… a bubble bath fight! Or, or we could go set off some fireworks in the middle of the night!”

You laugh at the thought, imagining the chaos that would ensue. “As long as I’m with you, I’m in. Just maybe not the fireworks. You know how your plans usually go…”

“Hey! My plans are perfectly fine!” she protests with a grin. “But okay, no fireworks—just you and me, causing a ruckus in our own special way.”

With her playful spirit lighting the room, you feel the weight of your sadness begin to lift, replaced by warmth and laughter. In that moment, surrounded by the love and chaos that is Jinx, you know that you can face whatever comes next—together.

“Thanks for being you, Jinx,” you say softly, snuggling closer to her, your heart full of gratitude.

“Always,” she replies, a soft smile gracing her lips. “Now, let’s just enjoy this for a bit. No worries, just us.”

You close your eyes, breathing in the moment, savoring the warmth and safety of her embrace, knowing that as long as you’re together, you can weather any storm.

Jinx's playful spirit sparks an idea. “You know what we can to do so you can feel much better?” she says, a twinkle in her eye. “A bubble bath! It’s the perfect way to unwind.”

You raise an eyebrow, intrigued. “A bubble bath, huh? Sounds like a plan.”

Jinx jumps up, practically bouncing with excitement. “Come on! I’ll fill the tub and grab some bath bombs!” She disappears into the small bathroom, and you follow her, anticipation bubbling up inside you.

The sound of water fills the air as Jinx prepares the bath, the warm steam rising, mixing with the sweet scent of the bath products she loves. You can’t help but smile at how she always brings a touch of chaos to even the simplest moments.

As the tub fills with fluffy bubbles, you begin to shed your clothes, feeling a sense of relief wash over you. The water looks inviting, and the thought of sinking into it with Jinx makes your heart flutter.

Jinx turns around, her eyes gleaming as she holds up a colorful bath bomb. “Ready for some fun?” she asks, her grin infectious.

You nod, and she tosses it into the tub, causing a cascade of colors to swirl through the bubbles. “Look at that! So pretty!” she exclaims, her eyes lighting up.

You step into the warm water, a sigh of contentment escaping your lips as the bubbles envelop you. Jinx slips in next to you, her playful energy radiating as she wraps her arms around you from behind, pulling you close.

You lean back against her, feeling her warmth surround you like a cozy blanket. Jinx’s fingers gently comb through your hair, a soothing rhythm that melts away any lingering tension. “See? This is what I’m talking about,” she whispers, her breath warm against your ear. “Just us, no worries.”

You close your eyes, allowing the warmth of the water and her embrace to cocoon you in a comforting haven. “This is perfect,” you reply softly, relishing the moment.

As you bask in the warmth of the water, you feel Jinx’s presence enveloping you, both physically and emotionally. The gentle strokes of her fingers through your hair bring a sense of peace, and you can’t help but lean further into her, letting the stress of the outside world melt away.

Jinx chuckles softly, her laughter echoing lightly in the cozy space. “See? I told you bubble baths are the best. They have magic powers or something.”

You smile, turning slightly to meet her gaze. “Definitely. Your magic powers are working.”

Her eyes sparkle with mischief, and she leans closer, her breath a tantalizing whisper against your skin. “Just wait until I show you my secret bubble bath skills.”

Curiosity piqued, you lean in a little closer. “Oh? What are those?”

With a playful grin, Jinx shifts her position, wrapping her arms more securely around you. “Just us being together, soaking in the warmth and forgetting the world. That’s all the skill I need.”

You can’t help but smile at her simplicity. It’s moments like these, stripped of chaos and distractions, that make you realize how deeply connected you feel to her.

As the bubbles gently swirl around you, the warmth and intimacy of the moment send butterflies fluttering in your stomach. You meet her gaze, feeling a spark of vulnerability and excitement.

“I’m really glad you’re here with me,” you confess, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Me too,” she replies, her tone sincere. “You make everything brighter.”

Slowly, she draws you closer until you can feel the steady rhythm of her heartbeat against your back. The ambiance shifts slightly, the playful atmosphere fading into a tender silence, filled with unspoken feelings.

Her gaze softens, and you sense the connection between you deepen. Jinx gave you a quick kiss at the top of your head, then both your cheek,  Jinx leans in closer to your lips this time, her breath mingling with the warm air, sending shivers down your spine. “Can I kiss you?” she asks, her voice a mix of vulnerability and excitement.

Your heart races at the question, and all you can do is nod. In an instant, her lips are on yours, soft and sweet, a perfect contrast to the tranquil chaos of earlier. The kiss deepens, a soft exploration of warmth and trust, as the world outside disappears completely.

You melt into her, every worry and doubt fading away as you sink into the moment. The warmth of the water and Jinx’s embrace envelop you, creating a bubble of intimacy that feels safe and electric all at once.

As you melt into the kiss, you feel Jinx's fingers begin to wander gently along your arms, tracing delicate patterns against your skin. The warmth of her touch sends tingles coursing through you, amplifying the connection between you.

“You’re so soft,” she whispers, breaking the kiss for just a moment, her breath warm against your cheek. Her fingers continue their exploration, gliding from your shoulders down to your waist, every caress igniting a spark of electricity.

You lean back against her, letting her guide you further into relaxation. The water ripples gently around you as she pulls you closer, her hands roaming with a mix of tenderness and curiosity. Each brush of her fingertips feels like a sweet promise, a declaration of her affection that makes your heart race.

“Is this okay?” she murmurs, her voice laced with a hint of mischief, as her fingers slide along your sides, teasingly exploring the curves of your body.

You nod, breathless and eager, completely lost in the moment. “More than okay,” you reply softly, your voice shaky with anticipation.

Jinx’s fingers continue their dance, moving slowly as if she’s memorizing every inch of you. The gentle pressure of her touch is both soothing and thrilling, igniting a warmth that spreads through you like wildfire. She leans in, her lips brushing against your ear, sending shivers down your spine. “I love how you feel against me,” she whispers, her tone low and intimate.

Her hands explore further, gliding down your back and then around to your front, creating a cocoon of warmth and safety. You feel as though the outside world has faded away, leaving only the two of you wrapped in this perfect moment.

The water bubbles around you, and the scent of the bath products fills the air, creating an enchanting atmosphere. You close your eyes, losing yourself in the sensation of her fingers on your skin, each caress igniting a deep yearning within you.

As Jinx’s fingers continue their gentle exploration, they glide down from your waist, her touch light and teasing. You can feel the warmth of her body radiating against yours, heightening your senses with every brush of her skin.

Her fingers pause for a moment, hovering just above your chest. You meet her gaze, searching for reassurance, and the playful spark in her eyes gives you the courage to nod slightly. “You can touch me, Jinx,” you whisper, your heart racing with anticipation. You know exactly what she's going to do.

A mischievous smile spreads across her lips as Jinx's fingers begin to explore your breasts, and the world around you fades away, leaving only the electric sensations coursing through your body. She starts with a gentle caress, her touch soft and teasing, but it soon escalates to light squeezes, each one more intoxicating than the last. Finally, her fingers find your nipples, pinching with a newfound boldness, her restraint slipping with every movement. Each pinch sends thrilling shivers down your spine, igniting a warmth inside you that grows with every touch. Leaning back into her, you crave more of her warmth, surrendering to the intoxicating closeness that envelopes you both.

“Jinx…” you breathe, your voice thick with longing. Her fingers glide over your tits with sultry confidence, teasing and exploring, awakening a hunger within you that demands to be satisfied.

“Do you like that?” she murmurs, her voice low and playful. The warmth of her breath against your skin sends your heart racing, and you nod, completely lost in the sensations of her fingers slowly teasing your nipples with her fingers. “I want more,” you whisper, your desire clear.

With a mischievous smile, Jinx deepens her exploration. Her fingers slide lower, tracing the curves of your body with a feather-light touch. You can feel the heat radiating from her, igniting every nerve as her hands roam lower, finding their way to your waist.

“Just for you,” she promises, her sultry tone sending a thrill through you. Her lips capture yours in a heated kiss, filled with urgency and need. You melt into her, your body responding to her every movement, every kiss igniting a fire deep within you.

Jinx's kisses travel from your lips to your neck, her soft lips trailing kisses along your collarbone, sending delicious shivers racing down your spine. As she kisses her way up, her fingers brush against the sensitive skin of your neck, and suddenly, she finds a spot that makes you gasp—a place where her touch sends tingles of pleasure radiating through you.

“Right here?” she asks playfully, her lips hovering near that sensitive spot. You nod breathlessly, unable to form words as she leans in, her mouth capturing your skin. With a gentle bite and a little sucking, she leaves a hickey, marking you with her lips. The sensation of her mouth against your neck, combined with the delightful pressure of her hands roaming your body, sends waves of pleasure surging through you.

“Jinx!” you gasp, a mix of surprise and exhilaration flooding your senses. You can feel the heat rising in your cheeks, but there’s a thrill in her possessive mark that makes your heart race even faster.

“Looks like I found your sweet spot,” she teases, her voice low and sultry as she continues to kiss and nibble at your neck, each touch igniting more heat within you. “I could spend all night right here.”

You lean back against her, surrendering fully to the sensations as her lips leave a soft trail of kisses along your neck, lingering on each spot with gentle care. Her hands explore your body with a tender curiosity, mapping out every curve as if savoring each one. She lets her fingers travel slowly, her touch becoming more intimate, until she finally reaches the sensitive area between your thighs, teasing in slow, delicate movements. Each kiss and every gentle caress along your skin builds the tension between you, and when her fingers begin to brush over your clit, your breath catches, a soft gasp escaping. The warmth radiating from her touch feels electric, and the heat simmering between you grows, filling the space with a heady sense of anticipation

“God, Jinx, it feels so good,” you manage to murmur through your moans, feeling lost in a haze of pleasure as she finally inserts her index and middle finger inside you. The world outside fades away, and all you can focus on is her—the warmth of her body against yours and the way her fingers come in and out of you ignites every nerve.

“Just relax and let me take care of you,” she murmurs, her lips brushing against your ear, sending shivers down your spine. The way she says it sends a thrill through you, urging you to surrender completely to the sensations that engulf you.

Jinx’s lips continue to explore, her kisses trailing down your neck and lingering on the mark she’s left behind, making you feel cherished and desired.

As she continues working her magic with her fingers, you can feel the pressure building within you, the delicious tension leaving you breathless. “Please, don’t stop,” you beg, your heart racing as her fingers curl inside you, igniting the fire within you that craves more.

“Never,” she murmurs, her voice sultry and thick with desire. Her lips press against your neck once more, lingering on the sensitive skin there, each kiss purposeful and unhurried. Her hand moves gently, and you feel her thumb begin to trace slow, deliberate circles, building a steady rhythm against your clit. The sensation stirs a powerful, almost overwhelming wave of pleasure, but she’s patient, coaxing each reaction from you as if savoring every moment. The world around you fades completely, leaving only the feel of her touch, her warmth against you. Every kiss, every careful movement, draws you closer to her, binding you in a shared intimacy that feels electric, as if you’re the only two people in the world.

The air around you seems to thrum with energy as Jinx's fingers keep working you up, each movement perfectly timed to your breaths, making you lose yourself in the sensations. Her thumb circles against your clit with just the right amount of pressure, sending jolts of pleasure coursing through you. The warmth of the water envelops you both, creating an intimate  that feels like a secret world just for the two of you.

“Jinx…” you breathe, your voice a mix of urgency and longing, every nerve in your body ignited by her touch. Your head tips back, resting against her shoulder, as you surrender completely to the bliss she’s giving you.

“Just let go,” she encourages softly, her voice a seductive whisper that sends shivers down your spine. “I’ve got you.”

With every stroke of her fingers, the heat within you builds, a tide rising and ready to crash. You can feel your body responding instinctively to her rhythm, the tension coiling tighter, urging you toward that edge. The way Jinx’s lips brush against your skin, paired with the gentle rocking of her fingers, pulls you deeper into a dizzying haze of pleasure.

“God, I can’t hold on much longer,” you confess, your breath hitching as the pressure within you swells to a near breaking point.

“Good,” she replies, her tone both teasing and passionate. “I want to feel you come apart for me.” Her fingers quicken their pace slightly, and the sensation sends shockwaves of pleasure rushing through you, igniting every inch of your skin.

You can feel your heart racing, the world around you blurring into a haze as the waves of pleasure build, cresting and crashing within you. You grip the edge of the tub, your nails digging in as you lose yourself in the rhythm of her touch, the warmth of her body against yours, and the sweet sounds of your shared intimacy.

“Jinx, please,” you gasp, feeling the tight coil of tension inside you reaching its peak, ready to snap.

“Just let go, toots,” she murmurs, her voice low and sultry, as if urging you on, a secret promise behind her words. “You’re so close. I can feel it.”

With a final swirl of her thumb and a deep curl of her fingers inside you, the world shatters. Pleasure explodes through you like fireworks, bright and consuming, washing away everything else. You arch against her, gasping as waves of ecstasy pulse through your body, pulling you under in the most beautiful way.

“Jinx!” you cry out, lost in the moment, completely enveloped in her warmth and the intoxicating aftershocks of your release.

Her arms tighten around you, holding you close as you tremble in the aftermath, every sensation magnified. She kisses your shoulder softly, her lips brushing your skin as you ride out the last waves of pleasure, whispering sweet nothings that send flutters through your heart.

“You did so good,” she praises, her voice soft and warm, filled with affection. “I love seeing you like this.”

As the waves of pleasure gradually subside, Jinx gently cradles you in her arms, her touch tender and reassuring. She plants soft kisses along your shoulder, each one a whisper of affection that lingers in the warm, steamy air. “You okay?” she asks, her voice filled with genuine concern, her eyes searching yours for any sign of discomfort.

You nod, a soft smile breaking across your face as you lean into her warmth. “More than okay,” you breathe, your heart still racing but now filled with a warmth that spreads through your chest.

Jinx grins, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “Good. I’d hate to think I overwhelmed you. Just wanted to make you feel amazing.” She shifts slightly, ensuring you’re both comfortable in the embrace, and the water ripples around you, creating a soothing melody.

“Mission accomplished,” you reply, your voice light and airy as you feel the remnants of bliss still tingling throughout your body.

With a playful glint in her eye, Jinx dips her fingers into the bubbly water, splashing a few bubbles toward you. “Let’s keep this magic going a little longer,” she says, her grin infectious.

You laugh, the sound bubbling up as you splash her back playfully. The moment feels effortless, a carefree exchange that wraps around both of you like the warmth of the water. The intimacy of the earlier moments lingers, but now it’s infused with a cozy lightness that makes your heart soar.

“Come here, you,” Jinx says, pulling you closer, her arms enveloping you as she gently sways you back and forth in the tub. “We should stay like this forever. Just us, no worries, no chaos.”

You lean your head against her collarbone, the softness of her skin grounding you. “I could get used to this,” you admit, relishing the tranquility that fills the air.

Jinx brushes her fingers through your hair, a soothing gesture that sends warmth flooding through you. “Good. Because I’m not letting you go anytime soon.”

As the minutes pass, you both enjoy the quiet intimacy, the steam rising and swirling around you like a protective cocoon. You catch her gaze, the playful spark in her eyes replaced with something softer, deeper. “You really mean that, huh?”

“Absolutely,” she replies, sincerity dripping from her words. “You deserve all the magic, all the moments like this. I’ll always be here to give them to you.”

A comfortable silence settles between you, filled with the rhythm of your breathing and the gentle splashes of water. The weight of the world outside fades, leaving only the two of you wrapped in a tender bubble of connection.

After the warmth of the bath, you find yourself back in Jinx's hideout where you'll be living from now on, the air still thick with the aftermath of shared intimacy. The chaotic charm of the place wraps around you like a comforting blanket, filled with colorful gadgets and strange contraptions that reflect Jinx’s vibrant personality.

As you take in the surroundings, your gaze lands on a glimmering object resting on her workbench. It sparkles under the dim light, hues of deep blue swirling within. Curiosity piqued, you move closer, drawn in by its beauty.

“What’s that?” you ask, pointing to the mesmerizing gemstone.

Jinx’s eyes light up with mischief, a grin spreading across her face. “Oh, that?” she replies, leaning closer to you, her excitement contagious. “That’s a special little thing I borrowed.” She gestures toward it dramatically. “Isn’t it amazing?”

You can’t help but be captivated. “What does it do?”

“Not entirely sure yet,” she admits, biting her lip in that way you find adorable. “But Silco wants me to make something cool with it—an invention or probably a weapon. You know how he is.” There’s a hint of pride in her voice, mixed with that familiar defiance you adore.

“Silco? You mean—”

“Yeah, my dad.” Jinx shrugs nonchalantly, but you can sense the excitement bubbling beneath the surface. “He thinks this gem could be the key to something big, but honestly? I just think it looks awesome.” She leans closer, her eyes sparkling with a hint of mischief. “Who knows what kind of trouble we could get into?”

You chuckle, both thrilled and a bit concerned. “Are you sure it’s safe?”

“Safe?” she scoffs playfully. “Since when has that ever been part of the deal?” She winks, the chaotic energy around her pulling you in. “But that’s what makes it fun! Besides, if it’s dangerous, that just means we’re doing it right!”

As she picks up the gemstone, its light reflects off her features, illuminating her excitement. The feeling of adventure washes over you, mixing with the warmth of your shared moments. You find yourself entranced, eager to see where this wild ride with Jinx will lead next.

Jinx is hunched over her workbench, various parts and pieces strewn across the table as she begins to assemble a rough blueprint. Her focus is intense, brows knit together, eyes fixed on the pieces as she fits them together with methodical precision. It’s fascinating to watch her work, but after a while, the silence and her intense concentration start to make you feel like a bit of an afterthought as you lay on the couch, staring at the ceiling.

You stretch out on the worn couch, tossing a dramatic sigh into the room. “Jinx,” you drawl, glancing over at her with an exaggerated pout, “are you planning to ignore me forever, or just until this thing actually works?”

Jinx doesn’t even flinch, her hands deftly twisting a screw into place as she mumbles, “Just until it’s done, maybe. Unless you keep whining like that. Then I’ll take even longer.”

You roll your eyes, feigning offense. “Wow, am I really that easy to ignore? I might just melt into this couch from sheer neglect.”

She finally glances over her shoulder, smirking. “Not my fault you’re jealous of a couple of bolts and screws.” With a playful raise of her brow, she nods toward her blueprint. “Besides, this isn’t just ‘a thing.’ This is gonna be epic. A beast of a… a… Fishbones!”

You raise an eyebrow at her. “Fishbones?”

She shrugs, looking unbothered. “Yeah! You know, it’s got… bite! ‘Course, I’ll need to get it there first.” She turns back to her work, tapping her fingers thoughtfully on the table.

You huff again, shifting restlessly. “Maybe it’s me that needs your attention, ever thought of that?”

Jinx quirks an eyebrow, but her hands don’t leave her work as she replies with a low chuckle. “Oh, I’ve thought about it. Trust me. But some of us have to focus to make something cool happen.”

You cross your arms, sinking deeper into the couch with an exaggerated huff. “So I’m supposed to sit here and be second place to a metal skeleton?”

She sighs, pausing her work long enough to glance over with a faint grin tugging at her lips. “If it’s any consolation, you’re definitely my favorite person who’s ever interrupted my work.”

You let out a snort, rolling your eyes. “Not good enough.”

A flicker of amusement crosses her face as she gestures you over with a tilt of her head and pats her thighs. “Alright, fine. Come here, you little distraction.”

You don’t need more of an invitation, slipping off the couch and sliding onto her lap, making yourself comfortable as her arms instinctively wrap around you, a mix of exasperation and fondness in her gaze.

She rolls her eyes but can’t hold back a small smirk. “I swear, you’re more high-maintenance than Fishbones is gonna be.”

You lean into her, pressing your forehead against hers with a soft smile. “Maybe I just like being a little bit of trouble.”

Jinx huffs a laugh, her fingers lightly tracing patterns along your back. “Guess I wouldn’t want you any other way.”

Jinx’s focus starts to shift as you nestle against her, the warmth of her body grounding you. The metal parts on the table glimmer under the dim light, but you’re no longer interested in them. Instead, you can feel the steady rhythm of her heartbeat beneath your fingertips, and it’s surprisingly soothing.

“See?” she says, a teasing lilt in her voice. “You just needed to remind me how amazing I am at multitasking. I can build my epic invention and cuddle with you at the same time.”

You chuckle, enjoying the playful banter. “Oh, really? Because it looks more like I’m doing all the work here.”

Jinx rolls her eyes, but there’s a spark of mischief in her gaze. “Yeah, sure. You're the one doing all the hard work of lounging around and stealing my warmth. It’s exhausting.”

“Exactly! This is a very demanding job,” you reply dramatically, sinking further into her embrace. “Someone has to make sure you stay motivated.”

“By distracting me?” She scoffs, but the smirk on her lips tells you she’s not really annoyed. “How am I supposed to focus on my masterpiece when you’re this close?”

You shift slightly, nestling into her a bit more. “Maybe I’m your real masterpiece. You know, the ultimate work of art.”

Jinx snorts, shaking her head. “You’re gonna have to do better than that to get a compliment out of me. I mean, just look at you compared to this genius invention.” She gestures to her workspace, her eyes gleaming with excitement. 

You chuckle again, finally relenting as you settle into a more comfortable position on her lap. “Fine, I’ll let you have your moment. Just promise you won’t forget about me entirely, okay?”

She pretends to ponder your request for a moment, biting her lip to suppress a grin. “Mmm… I’ll think about it. But no promises!”

You let out a mock gasp, clutching your chest. “How could you do this to me?”

Jinx laughs, shaking her head in delight. “Oh, I can think of a million ways. But right now, I need to focus, remember?”

“Right, right. But only after you give me at least one kiss for luck.” You raise an eyebrow, your playful tone inviting her to indulge you.

She pauses her work, glancing at you with mock seriousness. “You know what? That’s a fair trade.” Then, with a grin that makes your heart race, she leans in, pressing her lips softly against yours.

The kiss is sweet and fleeting, leaving you both smiling as she pulls back. “See? Now you can’t complain about being neglected. You have your kiss of luck, and I’m back to being a genius.”

With a mock sigh of defeat, you settle back into her embrace, ready to enjoy your time together while she dives back into her work. 

Little did you know how that weapon was going to change your entire life.

The moon hung low in the sky, casting a silvery glow over the makeshift hideout. Jinx sprawled out on the floor, her legs kicked up on a crate, while you leaned against the wall, watching her as she fiddled with an array of gadgets. The atmosphere was light, punctuated by her occasional bursts of laughter as she told you wild stories of her adventures.

“...and then I rigged the whole thing to blow just as they walked in! You should have seen their faces!” Jinx giggled, her eyes sparkling with mischief. You couldn’t help but chuckle along, captivated by her enthusiasm.

But as the stories flowed, you caught a glimpse of something flickering behind her playful demeanor. It was subtle, like a shadow passing over her expression—a hint of darkness that seemed to creep in whenever she mentioned Piltover or the Enforcers. You tried to brush it off, but it lingered, a gnawing feeling in your gut.

“Jinx, do you ever think about how far we’ve come?” you asked, trying to steer the conversation toward a lighter path. “I mean, look at us! We’re like a chaotic dream team.”

She smirked, the glimmer in her eyes returning. “Yeah, but I’ve got plans, toots. Big plans! And they can’t even begin to imagine what I’m capable of.”

Her tone held a slight edge, something almost predatory that sent a shiver down your spine. You met her gaze, searching for the playful girl you knew. “What do you mean by that?”

“Just… you know. Letting off some steam. A little chaos never hurt anyone, right?” Her grin widened, but you noticed her fingers twitching slightly, as if itching for something more than just a harmless prank.

You felt a tension settle between you, the line between lightheartedness and something darker becoming increasingly blurred. “I guess not,” you replied cautiously, hoping to lighten the mood. “Just don’t forget about us, okay?”

“Forget about us?” She chuckled, but there was a fierceness behind her laughter. “Never. I’m all in, you know that.”

Yet, the undercurrent in her words echoed like a warning, one that left you with an uneasy feeling as you watched her dive back into her work, the fleeting shadow of something dangerous still lingering in the air.

In an attempt to break through the heaviness, you slid down onto the floor beside her, resting your head against her shoulder. “You know,” you began softly, “no matter what plans you have, I’m always here to be your partner in crime. Just… remember to squeeze in some fun, okay?”

Jinx paused, her fingers hovering above the scattered parts, and glanced at you, her eyes sparkling with warmth. She nudged you playfully with her shoulder, a grin spreading across her face. “You’re right. I could definitely use some fun—especially with my favorite troublemaker right here.”

With a sudden burst of energy, she threw her arms around you, pulling you into a tight embrace. You melted into her, feeling the softness of her shirt against your cheek and the comforting warmth of her body enveloping you. The world outside faded for a moment, replaced by the familiar scent of her hair and the sound of her laughter vibrating through you.

“See? This is what I’m talking about! Chaos and cuddles all in one,” she declared, her voice muffled as she buried her face into your hair, the softness of her laughter wrapping around you like a cozy blanket.

You chuckled, feeling the weight of her presence soothe your worries. “I’m definitely up for more cuddles and a little less chaos… at least for tonight.”

She pulled back just enough to meet your gaze, her eyes twinkling with mischief and affection. “Alright, but if I get inspired and feel that chaotic urge creeping in, you have to promise to join me. Deal?”

“Deal,” you replied, grinning back at her. You took a moment to soak in the sight of her—messy hair, smudged cheeks, and that radiant smile that seemed to brighten the dim room. “But first, can we just enjoy this for a bit? You know, the cuddles part?”

Her laughter danced in the air as she leaned closer, resting her forehead against yours. “Yeah, I could get used to this. Just you and me, causing havoc in our own little world.”

You smiled, feeling a lightness bloom in your chest. “Exactly. Just us. No missions, no plans—just moments like this.”

Jinx’s expression softened, her eyes glimmering with warmth. “You make it sound so simple, but it feels perfect.” She brushed her fingers lightly along your arm, and in that quiet moment, everything felt right.

“Perfect, huh?” you teased gently, nudging her playfully. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“Of course it is!” she replied, her grin widening. “Now, let’s make some memories before I go back to plotting world domination, or whatever it is I do.”

“Sounds like a plan,” you agreed, feeling the joy and comfort radiating between you. The flickers of darkness that had lingered earlier were pushed aside, replaced by laughter, warmth, and the promise of more adventures together—one chaotic moment at a time.

The flickering light from the workbench casts dancing shadows on the walls as Jinx is lost in her world of gears and blueprints. You watch her from the couch, your mind swirling with thoughts about the recent conversations you've had. She’s been obsessed with Fishbones lately, her excitement palpable, but there’s something darker brewing beneath that enthusiasm.

“Jinx,” you begin softly, pulling your knees to your chest, trying to gauge her mood. “Have you thought about what you’re actually planning to do with Fishbones?”

Her fingers pause, and she glances up, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “What do you mean? It’s going to be the ultimate weapon!” She grins, clearly not understanding the weight behind your words.

You swallow, trying to choose your next words carefully. “I get that it’s going to be amazing, but… what if it’s used against people? It’s not just a toy, Jinx. We’re talking about real destruction.”

She shrugs, a teasing smile playing on her lips. “Hey, it’s not like I’m going to blow up the whole city! Just… the bad parts. You know, the ones that think they’re all mighty when, in reality, they’re just a bunch of spineless council puppets hiding behind their rules.

“Still,” you press, shifting slightly to show your concern. “There’s a line between defending ourselves and becoming the very thing we’re fighting against. It’s a slippery slope.”

Jinx rolls her eyes playfully, but there’s a flicker of seriousness in her gaze. “Come on, you worry too much. I promise it’s just for show. Mostly.”

“Mostly?” you echo, arching an eyebrow. “What does that even mean?”

“Just think about it!” she exclaims, waving her hands animatedly. “I can’t make something that cool and not use it! I just want to show Piltover they can’t keep stomping all over us and acting like I’m some rabid dog they can lock up.. Is that so wrong?”

You watch as Jinx rummages through her supplies, her energy infectious, but a knot of concern still tightens in your chest. “Jinx, this isn’t just about fun and games. What if something goes wrong? What if someone gets hurt?”

She freezes for a moment, her hand stilling on a gadget. “You really don’t get it, do you? This is how we make a statement! We can’t just sit around waiting for them to decide our fate.”

“Making a statement doesn’t have to mean risking lives!” you counter, frustration creeping into your voice. “There’s a difference between standing up for ourselves and throwing caution to the wind!”

Jinx narrows her eyes, the playful spark dimming again. “You think I want to hurt people? I want to show them we’re not afraid. They think they can just crush us under their boot, and I won’t let that happen!”

“And I’m not saying you should!” you reply, your voice rising slightly. “But you’re talking about using a weapon, Jinx. This is serious! What if it backfires?”

“Backfires?!” she exclaims, throwing her hands up in exasperation. “You think I’m some clueless kid who doesn’t know what she’s doing? I’ve been planning this for weeks!”

“It’s not about being clueless! It’s about thinking things through!” you shoot back, feeling your pulse quicken. “I’m not trying to undermine you; I just don’t want to see you go down a path that could end up destroying everything we’ve fought for.”

Her expression hardens, and for a moment, it feels like there’s an invisible wall between you. “You’re acting like I’m some kind of villain! I’m not out here to hurt just anyone—only the ones who damn well deserve it!”

“And how do you decide who deserves it?!” you demand, frustration boiling over. “What if you cross a line you can’t come back from? I can’t support that!”

She glares at you, the air thick with tension. “So what? You expect me to just sit here and let them grind us into the dirt? That’s not how this works!”

“I want you to think before you act!” you say, your heart racing. “You’re smarter than this, Jinx. You can fight back without becoming the very thing you despise.”

For a moment, silence hangs heavy between you, both of you breathing heavily. Jinx's eyes flash with a mixture of defiance and hurt. “I can’t believe you’re saying this. You of all people should understand what it’s like to be pushed to the edge!”

“I do understand!” you shoot back, feeling the weight of your words. “That’s exactly why I’m worried! I don’t want to see you lose yourself in all of this.”

Jinx’s shoulders slump slightly, the fight draining from her. “You really think I’m going to lose myself?”

“I’m afraid of it,” you admit, your voice softening. “I don’t want to watch you become someone who’s consumed by anger and revenge.”

Her gaze softens for a moment, and she takes a step closer, her voice quieter. “I thought you were in this with me, that you’d back me up no matter what.”

“I am in this with you,” you say, sincerity flooding your words. “But backing you up doesn’t mean I have to agree with everything you do. I care about you too much to just stand by and watch you make choices that could hurt you—or others.”

For a long moment, she studies your face, the tension shifting into something more complex. “You really are a buzzkill,” she mutters, but there’s a hint of a smile tugging at her lips.

“Maybe I just want to keep you grounded,” you reply, matching her grin with one of your own. “And maybe I want you to remember who you are, deep down.”

Jinx rolls her eyes, but you can see the flicker of affection in her expression. “Fine. I’ll try to keep the chaos in check… a little.”

“That’s all I’m asking for,” you say, relief washing over you. “Let’s find a balance between your plans and making sure we’re not losing sight of what really matters.”

“Okay, okay!” she exclaims, throwing her hands up in mock surrender. “You win this round. But just know, when I do unleash some glorious chaos, you’ll be right there beside me!”

“Deal,” you agree, feeling the heaviness of the argument lift as you share a warm smile. 

Yet beneath it all, you sensed this was only the start of something bigger.

The following evening, the atmosphere in the hideout feels charged, the air thick with a tension that’s hard to ignore. You find yourself perched on the edge of a rickety chair, watching Jinx as she sits cross-legged on the floor, her array of gadgets and blueprints sprawled around her. She’s been unusually quiet, and instead of her usual playful banter, she’s focused intently on her sketches.

As you peer over, you catch sight of her doodling the intricate designs of Piltover’s council buildings, her pencil moving rapidly across the paper. The lines are sharp, almost aggressive, and a chill runs down your spine as you realize that the detailed buildings aren’t just architectural sketches; they look like targets.

“Jinx?” you venture cautiously, shifting in your seat. “What are you working on?”

Her head snaps up, a glimmer of mischief in her eyes, but there’s something darker lurking beneath the surface. “Just some ideas,” she replies casually, though her tone doesn’t match the intensity of her gaze.

You lean forward, trying to decipher her mood. “Ideas for what? It looks… different from your usual stuff.”

“It’s nothing,” she brushes off, a teasing smile tugging at her lips as she flips the page. “Just thinking of ways Fishbones could take on those pesky enforcers, Silco’s request.”

Your stomach knots at her words, the playful edge to her voice sending alarm bells ringing in your mind. “Jinx, you’re not serious, right? You can’t actually be thinking about attacking them.”

She rolls her eyes, the sparkle in her expression dimming slightly. “It’s just brainstorming! Nothing wrong with a little strategy, toots.” But there’s a glint in her eyes—a thrill that unnerves you.

“Strategy?” you repeat, your heart racing. “This doesn’t sound like the fun chaos you usually talk about. This sounds… dangerous.”

“Dangerous?” she echoes, laughing lightly. “Come on, it’s not like I’m drawing up a full-on battle plan! I just like to imagine how I could make a statement, that’s all.”

“But what kind of statement?” you push, feeling a mix of concern and frustration. “You’re talking about real lives here, Jinx. This isn’t just a game!”

Her expression shifts, and you can see the flickers of intensity rising in her gaze. “Maybe it should be taken seriously! They’ve taken everything from us, and I’m just thinking about how to fight back.”

It almost felt as if Silco was talking through her, but there isn't time to think about that. You take a breath, trying to keep your voice steady. “I get that, but you can’t just focus on destruction. There has to be another way.”

“Another way?” she snaps, her voice rising slightly. “You mean the way they want us to? Just keep our heads down and hope for the best? That’s not going to change anything!”

You watch as her enthusiasm begins to morph into something darker, a dangerous thrill radiating off her. It’s unsettling, and despite your attempts to reach her, the intensity in her demeanor only grows stronger. “I’m not saying you should just give up, but there’s got to be a line we don’t cross.”

“Why not?” she challenges, her eyes narrowing. “If they won’t stop until they wipe us out, why should I hold back? Maybe it’s time they learned what happens when they mess with the wrong people!, show them what happened when they mess with me”

Her words hit you like a punch to the gut. The excitement in her voice sends shivers down your spine. “Jinx, please. You’re scaring me. This isn’t who you are.”

For a moment, her expression falters, and you catch a glimpse of the playful girl you fell in love with. “I… I’m just trying to protect us,” she says, her voice softer now, but there’s still an edge to it.

You reach out, placing your hand over hers, grounding her in that moment. “I know you are, but you don’t have to do it this way. You can be a hero without becoming a monster.”

Jinx stares at you, the conflict in her eyes palpable. “I don’t want to be a monster,” she murmurs, almost to herself. “But what if they make me one?”

You can feel the heaviness in the air, the weight of her thoughts pressing down on you both. “Then we fight together, but we fight smart, not reckless.”

After a beat, she lets out a frustrated sigh, pulling her hand away to scribble on her sketch again, though the energy has shifted. “You’re right,” she finally admits, her voice tight. “I just… get so carried away sometimes. I want to show them I'm not afraid.”

“You’re not alone in this, Jinx,” you reassure her gently. “You don’t have to carry that weight by yourself. Just promise me you’ll think about the consequences of your plans, okay?”

“Fine,” she replies, her voice laced with a reluctant acceptance. “But don’t expect me to stop dreaming up chaos. It’s who I am.”

“And I wouldn’t want you to change that,” you smile softly, grateful for the return of some lightness. “Just let’s keep the chaos fun, alright?”

Jinx smirks, a hint of her usual mischief returning. “You got it, partner. Chaos and cuddles only!”

As she leans into you, the earlier tension begins to fade, but you can’t shake the feeling that the flickers of darkness are still there, waiting just beneath the surface.

A few days later, the hideout buzzes with a different energy. Jinx is on a roll, her excitement palpable as she paces the small space, tossing ideas around like confetti. She’s practically glowing with enthusiasm, but you can’t shake the lingering unease that’s taken root in your heart.

“Okay, okay, hear me out!” she exclaims, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “What if we set off a few booms in Piltover, just to remind them I’m still here? Nothing too crazy, just a little fun to keep them on their toes!”

You frown, feeling the tension tightening in your chest. “Jinx, are you serious right now? You can’t just go blowing things up. That’s not fun; that’s reckless!”

She brushes off your concerns with a wave of her hand, spinning around to face you. “Oh come on! It’s not like I’m asking to destroy the whole place. Just a little chaos, just to show them we mean business!”

“Chaos isn’t just harmless fun, Jinx!” you challenge, your voice rising slightly. “You know what happens when you start throwing around explosives. People could get hurt—innocent people!”

Her expression shifts, the mischief fading as she crosses her arms defensively. “Innocent people? Like the council members who don’t give a shit about us? They’re the ones holding all the power!”

“Exactly! And you think blowing things up is going to change that?” You stand your ground, feeling the heat of the moment. “You’re not some vigilante. You can’t take justice into your own hands like this!”

Jinx’s eyes flash with frustration, her playful demeanor crumbling under the weight of your words. “What do you want me to do, huh? Just sit back and let them walk all over us? Pretend everything is fine while they scheme against us?”

“It’s not about pretending! It’s about finding a way to fight back without becoming a monster yourself!” The words spill out before you can stop them, the frustration boiling over. “You’re better than this, Jinx!”

Her gaze hardens, the air growing thick with tension. “Better than what? Better than standing up for myself? You don’t get it!” she snaps, her voice tinged with an edge you’ve never heard before. “You’re so wrapped up in your little ideas of right and wrong that you can’t see what’s at stake!”

“Maybe it’s you who’s not seeing clearly,” you retort, your heart racing. “This isn’t just a game. This is our lives! It’s our future!”

Jinx narrows her eyes, a flicker of hurt flashing across her face. “Our future? You’re the one who’s worried about consequences while I’m trying to make something happen! I don’t want to sit and wait for change. I want to make it!”

You take a deep breath, feeling the weight of her words hang in the air. “I want change too, but not at the cost of losing who you are. You can’t let this ambition turn you into someone you don’t want to be.”

She scoffs, her anger simmering just below the surface. “So what am I supposed to do? Just sit back and watch them destroy everything down here? That’s your plan?”

“No!” you exclaim, frustration giving way to desperation. “But there has to be a balance! You can’t let your passion for chaos blind you to the consequences. You have to think about how this affects us, Jinx!”

For a moment, silence stretches between you, the weight of the argument settling heavily in the air. Jinx’s gaze drops, the fire in her eyes dimming as the reality of your words sinks in. “You don’t trust me,” she murmurs, a hint of vulnerability creeping into her voice.

“It’s not that I don’t trust you,” you reply softly, stepping closer, searching her gaze for understanding. “It’s that I’m scared of what this obsession with taking down Piltover is doing to you. You’re losing sight of what matters.”

She shakes her head, frustration bubbling just beneath the surface. “You just don’t get it! I need to show them that we’re not afraid! I can’t just sit around and wait for someone else to make a change!”

“Jinx…” you start, but the words die in your throat. The intensity of her ambition is overwhelming, and for the first time, you feel the crack in your relationship growing wider.

Her expression hardens, a wall going up as she turns away. “I can’t believe you don’t see what I’m trying to do. You’re supposed to be my partner in this, not my conscience.”

“Maybe I don’t want to be a part of this if it means losing you to the darkness,” you admit, your voice trembling slightly.

The silence that follows is deafening, the weight of your words hanging in the air. Jinx’s back remains turned, and for the first time, you wonder if this rift between you might be deeper than you realized.

But what matters to you is that somehow you and Jinx managed to patch things up, like a small band-aid covering every crack in your relationship. The problem is that band-aids eventually wear off.

The hideout buzzed with energy as Jinx animatedly shared stories from the day’s escapades, laughter spilling from her lips like a melody. You leaned against the wall, heart swelling with affection, but a nagging worry settled in your gut.

Lately, Jinx had been spending more time with Silco, and you couldn’t shake the feeling that he was weaving himself into her thoughts. She’d come back with strange ideas and reckless plans, discussing ways to “take down Piltover” as if it were a casual evening chat.

“Jinx,” you called out, catching her attention as she fiddled with the blueprints scattered across the table. “Can we talk for a second?”

She paused, tilting her head with a playful smirk. “What’s up, toots? Are you finally going to help me with Fishbones?”

You took a breath, trying to keep your tone light, but the concern in your chest pushed through. “It’s not about Fishbones. It’s about Silco. I’m worried he’s getting in your head.”

“Come on! Silco just knows how to think big!” she laughed, brushing off your concern with a wave of her hand. “He gets it. He’s not like the others.”

“But that’s just it,” you pressed, stepping closer. “You trust him too much. He has his own agenda. I don’t want you to lose sight of what we stand for.”

Jinx rolled her eyes, her playful demeanor faltering for a moment. “I’m not losing anything! He’s just… giving me a broader perspective.”

“Jinx, this isn’t just about having a bigger picture. He’s been pushing you toward this dangerous edge,” you insisted, your heart racing. “And you keep talking about taking action. What does that even mean?”

She crossed her arms, her eyes narrowing as the fire within her flared back to life. “You really think I’m going to sit back and let Piltover trample us like we’re nothing? That’s not who I am—I refuse to be their victim!

“I know who you are, and that’s why this scares me!” you replied, voice rising with frustration. “I love your wild spirit, but don’t let Silco twist it into something it’s not!”

The air thickened with tension as she stared at you, a mixture of anger and uncertainty flashing across her face. “So you want me to just ignore everything he says? Pretend like it’s not happening?”

“Not ignore it, but think critically about it! We can find our own way without becoming pawns in someone else’s game!”

Jinx’s expression hardened, the playful glint gone from her eyes. “Maybe you’re the one who doesn’t see the bigger picture. Sometimes you have to do things you don’t want to protect what you care about.”

You felt a surge of hurt at her words, sensing the growing divide. “But at what cost, Jinx? I don’t want to lose you to this chaos.”

A flicker of doubt crossed her face, but she quickly masked it with defiance. “I’ll figure it out. I always do.”

“Jinx—” you began, but she cut you off, frustration evident. “Just drop it! I don’t need you to protect me!”

As she turned away, retreating out of the hideout, you were left standing there, the weight of your argument settling heavily in your chest. Silco’s influence felt like a shadow stretching between you, and the distance that grew felt more like a chasm.

The silence that followed was deafening, each heartbeat echoing the uncertainty that had taken root in your chest. You were losing her to the chaos that surrounded you both, and for the first time, doubt gnawed at the edges of your heart.

Hours slipped by in a haze of worry, the dim light of the hideout casting shadows that seemed to press in closer. You found yourself retreating to a quiet corner, desperately trying to grasp onto the love you felt, the memories that had once felt so untouchable. But each one now felt laced with the tension that Silco had brought between you.

Eventually, the door creaked open, and there she was, lingering in the threshold. Her blue eyes were intense, a hint of that same defiance still sparking, but her posture softened, uncertain as she scanned the room and found you. She looked like she had a thousand things to say yet no words for any of them.

“Jinx…” you whispered, the name feeling heavy on your lips.

She hesitated, chewing her lip before stepping closer, crossing the small space between you two with measured steps. “You… you didn’t have to wait around,” she muttered, her tone caught somewhere between vulnerability and pride.

“I wasn’t going to leave,” you replied, trying to keep your voice steady. “Not after that.”

A silence settled over you, and for a moment, you both just stood there, caught in the weight of the unsaid things, the worry and love that seemed to intertwine, complicated and unbreakable. She shifted her weight, her gaze finally dropping as if the confidence that had fueled her argument earlier was slowly peeling away.

“You really think I’m letting him control me?” she asked softly, the vulnerability in her voice threading through the tension.

You nodded slowly. “I think he’s changing the way you see things. And that scares me, Jinx.”

She glanced back at the doorway, the shadows of the hideout looming behind her, then back at you, her eyes wavering. “I… don’t want to be used. I just thought maybe, for once, I could… matter. Make a difference. Make him proud of me”

“You matter,” you said gently, stepping closer, feeling that familiar pull between you both. “You always have. But we can find a way without him. If he really loved you he would be proud of you no matter what. ”

Jinx’s shoulders slumped, and for the first time, she looked tired. “Maybe you’re right,” she murmured. Then, reaching for your hand, she gave it a small squeeze, grounding herself in the warmth of your touch. “Guess I’m not always the mastermind, huh?”

A faint smile tugged at your lips. “You’re still my Jinx.”

For the first time in hours, her expression softened, and she leaned into you, just enough to let the weight of her defenses fall away. And for now, it was enough.

As Jinx’s hand slipped into yours, grounding herself, you couldn’t hold it back any longer. The strain, the arguments, the growing fear of losing her—it all poured out at once. A tear slipped down your cheek, followed by another, and before you could turn away, Jinx was already pulling you into her arms.

You buried your face into her shoulder, clutching her tightly, the familiar scent of gunpowder and oil oddly comforting. She held you firmly, letting you release everything you’d held back. Her hands moved to your back, tracing small, soothing circles, each gesture wordlessly saying, I’m here.

After a moment, Jinx pulled back, her gaze softening as she took in the tear-streaked expression on your face. She reached up, her fingers delicate as she cupped your cheeks, brushing her thumbs against your damp skin. “Hey, don’t cry, toots,” she whispered, voice gentle, holding you like you were something precious.

Then, with a tenderness that took your breath away, she leaned in, her lips pressing soft kisses over each tear, one by one. Each touch was light, warm, melting the tension that had built up in your chest. “I didn’t mean to scare you,” she murmured between kisses. “I’m still here, still me.”

You let out a shaky breath, a flicker of relief breaking through the worry. “I just… I don’t want to lose you, Jinx. Not to anyone. Not to Silco.”

Jinx paused, her face inches from yours, her gaze serious. “You’re not gonna lose me,” she said softly, her hands never leaving your face. “Whatever happens, we’re in this together.”

She held your gaze, her eyes fierce but softened by something raw and real. And in that moment, words weren’t needed. You knew, as long as you had each other, nothing else mattered.

As the days pressed on and Fishbones neared completion, you could feel the shift in Jinx’s energy, like a storm gathering on the horizon. She’d retreat into her projects for hours, emerging only to scribble some hastily thought-up addition or tweak in her blueprints. It was clear she was consumed, her mind caught in an unwavering current that seemed to pull her further from you.

One evening, as you stepped into her makeshift workshop, you found her crouched over Fishbones, tightening bolts with fierce precision. Tools lay scattered around her, and the look in her eyes was one of singular, intense focus. She didn’t even glance up when you came in.

“Jinx,” you started gently, taking a step forward. “Do you have a minute? I thought maybe we could talk… about Fishbones.”

At the sound of your voice, she tensed, setting the wrench down with a metallic clang. “Why do we have to keep talking about this?” she muttered, her eyes narrowed, the walls around her clearly rising higher. “It’s fine. Fishbones is perfect the way it is.”

“I know you put so much work into it, and it’s incredible, Jinx,” you replied carefully, feeling the words stick in your throat. “But some of these additions—do they have to be so… aggressive? I’m just worried.”

She let out a frustrated sigh, finally standing up to face you. “Why are you so worried all the time? It’s like you’re trying to put a leash on me, on Fishbones, on everything.”

“It’s not that,” you said, trying to hold your ground. “I just don’t want you or anyone else getting hurt because of all this. We can use Fishbones in a way that keeps you safe.”

Her eyes hardened, a stubborn glint sparking. “I’m not some little kid you need to protect, alright? I don’t need anyone telling me how to be me. And Fishbones? It’s gonna be exactly what I want it to be, no matter what.”

She turned back to her work, closing you out as she resumed tightening the last pieces. Each crank of the wrench echoed in the silent room, like the final snaps of a door shutting between you.

You planned the day carefully, choosing a quiet corner of the city where the hum of Zaun’s chaos softened. A hidden rooftop with a view overlooking the rusted skyline, a place far removed from blueprints, weapons, or talk of revenge. You laid out a simple picnic, filled with a few of Jinx's favorite things—sour candies, fizzy drinks, and a few pastries you’d found in Piltover.

When you finally coaxed her out, she looked wary, as though expecting some kind of trap. But the sight of you grinning, sprawled out on a soft blanket in the sun-dappled light, seemed to chip away at her guard. She dropped onto the blanket beside you, a smirk tugging at her lips as she popped a candy into her mouth. standing herself with her elbows 

“What’s all this?” she asked, looking almost amused.

“Just us,” you replied with a shrug. “Thought we could take a break, maybe slow things down a little. You’ve been working so hard, Jinx.”

“Didn’t know I’d earned myself a picnic,” she teased, though the way her gaze lingered on you gave away her appreciation. “You’re getting soft, toots.”

You grinned, nudging her shoulder. “Maybe I’m just smart enough to know when you need a break.” You handed her a fizzy drink, watching her expression light up as she took a sip, savoring the tart bubbles. She leaned back further, letting her eyes drift closed, soaking up the rare, quiet moment.

Jinx let out a soft sigh as she straightened up, now sitting, settling against you, her head resting on your shoulder as she relaxed into the calm, almost surreal peace of the rooftop. She popped another candy into her mouth, savoring the sour burst as she looked up at you, her eyes glinting with a familiar mischief softened by something gentler.

“This is too nice,” she murmured, leaning closer, her voice dropping to a playful whisper. “Feels like I should be suspicious.”

You chuckled, brushing a strand of hair away from her face. “Guess you’ll have to let me surprise you for once.”

Jinx’s grin widened, and she let herself melt against you, her fingers tracing light patterns over your hand. “Fine, but only because you bribed me with candy.” She nudged her shoulder into yours, glancing up at you, eyes shimmering with an affectionate warmth that was rare to catch.

As you sat there, the sky around you dimming into softer shades, you could feel her focus shift entirely to you. She moved closer, the playful spark in her gaze softening as her fingers intertwined with yours. You gently cupped her cheek, feeling her lean into your touch, her expression caught between a smile and something deeper.

“I mean it, Jinx,” you whispered, your voice barely audible in the quiet rooftop air. “You deserve these moments, too.”

She looked at you for a long moment, her defenses slipping in the silence as if she couldn’t quite believe you were real. Then, without a word, she leaned up, her lips brushing against yours in a kiss that felt like everything she couldn’t say out loud. Her hand slid up to cup your cheek, her thumb brushing softly against your skin as she deepened the kiss, her touch warm and grounding.

The world around you melted away as you lost yourself in the kiss, feeling her relax and trust you in a way she rarely allowed herself to. Her fingers played at the back of your neck, sending a shiver down your spine as her lips moved softly, passionately against yours, your own hands tangled in her beautiful blue hair. She pulled you closer, her energy warm, electric, and overflowing with a genuine care that was unmistakably hers.

When she finally pulled back, her cheeks were flushed, and her usual smirk softened into a smile that was only for you. She let out a small laugh, brushing her thumb over your cheek. “You’ve got a way of making everything else disappear, you know that?”

“Good,” you murmured, leaning your forehead against hers. “Because right now, there’s nowhere else I’d rather be.”

Jinx’s fingers laced through yours as you both sat there, tangled together under the dimming Zaun skyline, her laughter and the softness in her gaze anchoring you to the moment. It felt like, here on this rooftop, you’d found a sliver of peace—just the two of you, leaving the rest of the world far behind.

But then, somewhere below, the soft clink of metal against metal disrupted the quiet. You almost ignored it, brushing it off as the usual hum of the city, but then came a sharper clang and the distant rumble of machinery. Jinx’s grip on your hand tightened, her body tensing as her gaze drifted to the edge of the rooftop, where shadows stirred.

The playfulness in her expression wavered, giving way to something sharper, more focused. The laughter that had danced between you moments before seemed to fade, slipping away like a half-forgotten melody as reality crept back in, filling the space with a new, charged silence. You could see her eyes narrow, a flicker of determination setting in, as if the peace you’d found had only been borrowed and the world below was here to collect its due.

“Jinx?” you started, sensing her shift, the warmth retreating from her eyes. “What’s wrong?”

She sat up straight, her expression hardening as she focused on the chaos below. “It’s just… Piltover doesn’t stop, does it?” she said, her voice low, edged with frustration. “They think they can walk all over us, and I refuse to let them think they can get away with it!”

You followed her gaze, feeling a pang in your chest as you understood what was happening. The reminders of Piltover’s oppression—the flashing lights, the sounds of machinery, the chaos—were all too familiar and raw.

“Jinx, let’s not—” you began, but she cut you off, her words coming out sharper now, tinged with an intensity that sent a shiver through you.

“I can’t just sit here and pretend everything is fine!” she snapped, eyes blazing with a fierce resolve. “They’ve pushed us around for too long. I want them to see me—not as a joke, but as someone who can make a difference!”

The shift in her demeanor was like watching a switch flip. The softness you had nurtured moments ago was swallowed by the encroaching shadows of her ambition. You reached out, trying to anchor her back to the moment, to the laughter you had shared.

“Jinx, please, listen to me,” you urged, your heart racing as you grasped her hand, desperate to pull her back. “You don’t have to take this on alone. We can find a way to fight back together, without losing yourself”

But she shook her head, pulling her hand away as frustration bubbled up inside her. “You don’t understand! This isn’t just about revenge; it’s about proving I’m not weak. I want them to know I’m capable of more than they think. I can’t just be the girl who causes chaos—I have to be more!”

The passion in her voice, while powerful, filled you with dread. You could see the danger in her determination, the risk of losing the very essence of who she was to the chaos she was ready to embrace.

“Jinx, don’t you see? You’re more than just a weapon or a tool for revenge. You’re so much more!” You took a deep breath, trying to find the right words. “We need to find a way that doesn’t involve becoming what they expect us to be. You’re not just Jinx, the girl who causes chaos. You’re the one I love—the one who brings joy and laughter, even in the darkest times.”

She faltered for a moment, the fire in her eyes flickering as your words pierced through the haze of ambition. But it was only for a heartbeat before the shadows returned, darker and more insistent than before.

“I can’t just forget what they’ve done. I need to prove that I’m strong enough to stand up for myself and for Zaun!” she declared, her voice rising as her frustrations poured out.

The moment felt heavy, a chasm widening between you. You had tried to pull her back into the light, but the darkness she was drawn to was too strong, too seductive. It made you feel helpless, watching the person you loved wrestle with a turmoil you couldn't quite reach.

In that moment, you realized that while you could share laughter and joy, the echoes of Piltover’s cruelty were louder than any picnic or soft words. You both needed to find a way through this, but the path was obscured by her anger and the shadows of her ambition.

As silence enveloped the rooftop, you could feel the distance grow, the lingering warmth of the earlier connection now just a faint memory.

The silence hung between you like a storm cloud, heavy and charged. You could feel the tension crackling in the air, and it felt as if the very rooftop was bracing for impact. Jinx’s eyes sparkled with determination, but beneath that, a flicker of uncertainty danced—a contradiction you hoped to expose.

“Jinx, I get it,” you said, voice rising slightly as frustration seeped in. “But this isn’t the way! If you keep pushing for revenge, you’re just playing into their hands. You’ll become exactly what they expect—a chaotic force, a weapon they can use!”

Her laugh was cold and bitter, slicing through the tension like a knife. “What do you know about what they expect? You live in your cozy little world while I fight tooth and nail every single day! You think this is a game?”

“It’s not a game, and I’m not ignoring what you’re going through!” you shot back, heart racing as emotions surged. “But sacrificing yourself to become a pawn in Silco’s plans isn’t the answer! You’ll lose everything that makes you, you!”

Jinx’s eyes blazed, fury igniting as she rose to her feet, pacing back and forth like a caged animal. “You don’t understand! I’ve spent my whole life being underestimated, being called a joke, a jinx. I have to show them I’m not just some crazy girl with a few tricks up her sleeve. I’m more than that! I have to make them fear me!”

“Fear isn’t strength, Jinx! It’s weakness!” The words slipped out before you could catch them, the urgency driving you to raise your voice. “You want respect, not fear! You want to be seen for who you really are, not just a weapon in someone else’s game. Can’t you see that?”

Jinx spun around, her hands balled into fists at her sides. “And how do you propose I do that? Just sit back and wait for them to see me? You think that will change anything? They won’t respect me unless I show them what I’m capable of!”

The heat of the moment intensified, and you stepped closer, desperate to bridge the chasm forming between you. “You don’t have to prove yourself to anyone but yourself! The people who truly care about you will see your worth without the chaos! Why can’t you trust that?”

“You’re not just a weapon. You’re brilliant, you’re creative, and you have so much potential! But this obsession with proving yourself is clouding your judgment!”  you urged, pleading with her to see reason

“Why can’t you just support me?” she yelled, eyes blazing. “Why can’t you see that I’m doing this for us, for Zaun? If I don’t take action, then what’s the point? I refuse to be a victim!”

“You think I want you to be a victim?” you shouted back, exasperated. “I want you to be safe! I want you to be happy! But you’re running headfirst into danger, and it’s tearing us apart!”

“Maybe you should have thought of that before you decided to pull me away from my goals!” she snapped, her frustration boiling over. “You don’t get to dictate what I can or can’t do! I’m not your little project to fix!”

The words hit you like a punch to the gut. You felt a mix of hurt and anger swell within you, but you fought to keep your composure. “I’m not trying to fix you, Jinx. I just want you to realize that you don’t have to do this alone! We’re a team, remember?”

“Yeah, well, maybe I don’t want to be a part of your little team anymore!” she spat, her voice rising with each word. “I don’t need you holding me back!”

In that moment, the air between you crackled with tension, your emotions swirling into a whirlwind of hurt and desperation. Jinx stood before you, a whirlwind of defiance and ambition, and yet beneath it all, you could sense the fear of losing herself to the chaos she felt compelled to embrace.

“Jinx, please!” you shouted, your voice breaking with the weight of your plea. “I don’t want to lose you! You’re so much more than this rage and chaos.”

For a fleeting moment, the fire in her eyes wavered, and you could see the conflict churning within her. But it was quickly masked by anger once more. “You think I can just forget everything that’s happened? That I can pretend like Piltover isn’t crushing us every day?”

“I don’t want you to forget, but I want you to fight differently!” you exclaimed, stepping forward again. “You have the power to inspire people, to bring them together, to create change without losing yourself in the process! Please, just think about what you’re sacrificing!”

Jinx's eyes flicker with intensity as she steps back, her voice rising, “Do you think they’ll ever let me be anything else? The council, the enforcers—they see me as a criminal. Nothing I say or do is gonna change that.”

You take a deep breath, steadying yourself. “But pushing them further won’t help, Jinx. You’re just giving them more reasons to hunt you down.”

Her jaw clenches, lips curling into a mocking smirk. “So, what, I just sit back? Let them make all the rules?”

“That’s not what I’m saying,” you insist, struggling to keep your tone calm. “But every time you go after them, you’re risking more than just your life. There’s so much more here—so much more to us.”

Jinx scoffs, but there’s a flicker of hesitation in her eyes, like she’s torn between you and something much darker. “Maybe I don’t want them to have the last word.”

You step closer, lowering your voice. “And maybe I just want to keep you around a little longer.”

For a moment, the defiance softens, and she’s looking at you with something vulnerable, something almost gentle. But it fades quickly, her expression hardening again. “They’ve got you wrapped around their finger,” she mutters, pulling back.

Jinx’s words linger in the air, sharp and unyielding, but you refuse to let her pull away entirely. “I’m not on their side, Jinx. I’m just trying to keep you safe.”

She tilts her head, blue eyes narrowing in suspicion, her defiance still on full display. “Safe? And what do you get out of it, huh?” There’s a flash of something raw, almost accusing, as if daring you to admit you don’t understand her world.

Your hand finds hers, grounding her even as she looks ready to bolt. “Maybe I get to be around you. Just you, Jinx, not the fighter or the name they give you, but...you.”

Jinx’s smirk twists, her hand slipping out of yours like a shadow. “You think you can just talk me out of this?” Her tone turns mocking, eyes gleaming with something more volatile. “You think that’s all it’ll take to make me just… sit pretty, like some lapdog?”

“Jinx, that’s not what I meant,” you say, trying to keep calm. “I’m just saying that if you keep pushing this—”

“Then what?” she snaps, voice rising as she takes a step back, crossing her arms defiantly. “Then what happens? They take me down? They throw me in Stillwater?” Her voice is laced with venom, each word daring you to challenge her.

You hesitate, and that’s enough. She seizes it, her eyes narrowing. “See? Even you don’t believe I can make it out of this. You’re just like them.”

“That’s not fair,” you argue, feeling the sting of her words. “I’m here, aren’t I? I left everything to be with you!”

Jinx’s jaw tightens, but she doesn’t relent, her gaze icy. “Maybe you shouldn’t have. Maybe you’re just as blind as they are, thinking you can fix me.” Her words hit like a slap, each one colder than the last.

For a moment, you’re both silent, the air thick with hurt and frustration. Then, without another word, she turns, walking away before you can say anything else, leaving you alone in the hollow silence of her retreating footsteps. The storm you both had danced around finally erupted, and you felt the distance between you grow wider, the rooftop now a battlefield for hearts torn apart by ambition and fear.

You took a deep breath, your heart heavy with the weight of your earlier words. The air felt thick with unspoken words, the silence between you heavy as you struggled to find the right thing to say. You couldn’t let the anger fester between you; you needed to reach her before the distance became insufferable. So, you made your way back to the workshop, where the clatter of metal and the faint smell of burning circuits filled the air.

As you stepped inside, the scene was nothing less than chaotic, Jinx sitting in a stool surrounded by blueprints and makeshift weapons, her brow furrowed in concentration. But the moment you entered, she looked up, and her expression shifted—defensive, as if she expected an attack.

“Didn’t I tell you to leave me alone?” she snapped, her eyes narrowing. The defensiveness in her voice was like a shield, her anger a barrier against your concerns. It hurt to see her like this, closed off and unapproachable.

“Jinx, please, I want to talk,” you said, your voice soft but urgent. “I need you to listen to me.”

“What could you possibly say that I haven’t already heard?” she replied, turning back to her work, her shoulders tense with unspoken frustration.

You hesitated for a moment, the weight of your earlier argument heavy in your chest. “I want to apologize for what I said. I shouldn’t have pushed you away like that. I care about you more than anything, and the thought of losing you terrifies me."

Her laughter rang harshly in the cramped workshop, an indication of the walls she had built around herself. The tension hung in the air, a physical thing you could almost touch

“Jinx—” you started, but the words died in your throat when you caught a glimpse of a list she had spread across the table. As you leaned closer, your heart dropped. Among a scribbles of names, one stood out like a dreadful sight—your mother’s name, circled in red ink.

A memory flickers through your mind, warm and vivid. You recall a sunny afternoon when you were a early teenager, sitting on the porch with your mom, her laughter filling the air as she recounted stories from her own youth and listened to your struggles. You can almost feel her hand on your shoulder, her hugs, the comfort of her presence, her arms surrounding you. But now, that warmth feels cold and distant, faded under the weight of what you've learned.

The shock washes over you like a wave, pulling you under. You think back to the sweet moments you shared, and how quickly they turn bitter. Your breath hitches in your throat, and you struggle to process the contrast of that joyful day and the grim reality now laid bare before you.

“Why?” The word escapes your lips in a whisper, raw and laden with confusion and sorrow. Tears filling your eyes.

In that moment of clarity, you realize the stakes have changed. The girl you once knew and loved seems faded, and you’re not sure if she’ll ever come back. You lock eyes with Jinx, her expression shifting from mischief to concern. She can see the turmoil within you, but you’re not sure how to voice the storm brewing in your heart.

“Jinx, I—” you start, but the words don’t come. All that’s left is the weight of the moment, and the understanding that everything you care about is in jeopardy.

“What is this?” you whispered, your voice trembling along with your hands. 

“What does it look like? It’s my plan,” she snapped, her voice hardening as she faced you. The defiance in her eyes only masked the uncertainty that lay beneath, a wall you desperately wanted to tear down.

Your heart raced, shock settling deep in your gut. “This is a joke, right? You can’t be serious about this. My mother… she’s not your enemy. She’s done so much for people in Zaun trying to defend them against the rest of the council.”

“Your mother is part of the council,” she shot back, her tone cold. “She’s part of the problem.” Jinx’s words cut deep, fueled by resentment that had festered over the years.

“You don’t understand!” you cried, stepping closer, desperate to make her see. “She’s a good person! You don’t know what she’s done for this city. And you think killing her is the answer?”

Jinx crossed her arms defiantly. “It’s not personal; it’s necessary. If we want to change things, we have to take out the root of the problem!”

You processed her words for a couple of seconds.

“Necessary?” you echoed, disbelief lacing your voice. What about the cost, Jinx? Do you really believe this will fix anything? You’re playing with lives!”

She scoffed, shaking her head. “You keep saying I should just sit back and let Piltover crush us. You don’t know what it’s like down here!”

“I do know!” you shouted, the frustration boiling over. “I left my family for you! I chose this life because I believed in us! But you’re losing yourself in this havoc! You don’t have to lose yourself to fight back! You can be strong without becoming a fucking monster!”

Her eyes flashed with anger she stood up, and stepped closer, her voice dropping dangerously low. “And what if I want to be a monster? What if I want to prove I’m more than just the girl you fell in love with? I can’t be weak anymore!”

“Prove yourself? By hurting innocent people?” you pleaded, tears falling down your cheeks. “That’s not strength, Jinx! That’s surrendering to the dark!”

For a moment, her expression flickered, a crack in her fierce facade. “You don’t understand anything!” she shouted, hitting the table with her fist, but there was a tremor in her voice that betrayed her.

“Then help me understand!” you cried, feeling the tears spill over. “You’re pushing me away, and it’s breaking my heart! You don’t have to do this alone!”

The air between you crackled with tension, the fight spiraling into something deeper, more painful. You watched as Jinx wrestled with her emotions, caught between the hatred she felt compelled to embrace and the light that flickered within her. You could only hope she would choose to come back to you, back to the love that had once defined your world together.

You can see the storm brewing behind Jinx’s eyes—a mix of fury, confusion, and fear. “You don’t get it!” she shouts, throwing blueprints into the air, her voice breaking as she struggles to keep her composure. “Every day, I watch Piltover take everything from us. They don’t care about our lives, our pain! If I don’t fight back, then what’s the point?"

“Fighting back doesn’t mean becoming a killer!” you urged, stepping even closer, the desperation in your voice rising. “I understand your pain, I really do. But don’t let it consume you! You’re better than this!”

“Better than what?” she shot back, her fists shaking at her sides. “Better than taking control? Better than standing up for myself? I’ve spent my whole life feeling powerless, feeling weak. I won’t let that happen again!”

“Then prove that you’re strong enough to fight for change without sinking into the dark!” you pleaded, your own voice thick with emotion. “You can be a hero without losing yourself!”

Jinx scoffed, and you could see the mask of defiance slipping. “A hero? For who? For your precious council? They’ll just keep pushing us down while they live in their shiny towers! What do they care about us?”

“I care about you!” you shouted, the words pouring out in a rush. “I left everything behind for you, Jinx! Your voice trembled with the truth of your sacrifice, the raw emotion behind it echoing in the silence between you. You could feel your heart racing as you laid bare your feelings, desperate for her to understand the depths of your commitment. “You say you want to prove yourself, but this isn’t the way! You’re not a monster; you’re so much more than that!”

Her breath hitched, and for a fleeting moment, doubt crept into her fierce expression. But then she shook her head, frustration returning. “You think I can just turn my back on all of this? On everything I’ve worked for? You don’t see what it’s like for us! You’re blinded by your privilege!”

“Blinded? I chose this life! I chose to be with you!” you countered, anger and heartbreak blending into one. “But it feels like you’re choosing to push me away instead!”

Jinx’s gaze hardened once more, but the wavering in her voice betrayed her. “You don’t understand what it means to fight for your life every day, to feel like you have to become something you hate just to survive!”

“Then let me help you! Together, we can find a better way to fight—one that doesn’t destroy you in the process!” you urged, feeling the tears spill down your cheeks. “You’re not alone in this! You don’t have to be!”

“I’ve always been alone!” she shouted back, her voice rising with the pain of her past. “Do you think you can just swoop in and fix everything? You just think you know what it’s like!”

“You’re making it impossible to understand you! You’re shutting me out, and it’s tearing us apart!” you reply, stepping closer, heart racing as tears stream down your face like a waterfall.

The air between you crackled with tension, the weight of your argument hanging heavy. Jinx’s eyes searched yours, and for a moment, the fire of anger flickered, replaced by something deeper—a vulnerability she was struggling to confront.

“Every time I try to do something, it’s never enough,” she admitted, her voice trembling. The vulnerability in her admission caught you off guard, revealing the internal struggle she faced—the crushing weight of expectations and perceived failures. “I feel like I’m drowning in this chaos, and I don’t know how to swim anymore.”

“Then let me be your lifeline,” you urged, reaching out to cup her face in your hands, wiping away a tear that had escaped down her cheek. “You don’t have to bear this alone. We can face this together.” You stepped closer, your heart pounding as you tried to reach her, to show her that she didn’t have to fight this battle by herself. Your desperation to connect was palpable, a lifeline you hoped she would grasp.

But just as quickly as it appeared, her mask snapped back into place, and she pulled away from your touch. “I can’t risk losing you like I lost everyone else! I won’t let you down with me.”

“Jinx, you’re not going to lose me if you let me in!” you cried, your heart aching with every word. “But if you continue down this path, you won’t just lose your fight; you’ll lose yourself completely.” The gravity of your words hung in the air, a warning that resonated with both of you. You could see the flicker of fear in her eyes, the realization of what she stood to lose beyond the immediate struggle. “And I can’t bear to watch you destroy who you are.”

For a moment, silence hung heavy between you, both of you catching your breath from the weight of the confrontation. Jinx stood there, her eyes glistening with unshed tears, caught in the crossfire of her own inner demons.

“Just… just go,” she finally whispered, her voice barely above a breath. “I can’t face this right now,” she murmured, her voice cracking as she stepped away from you, the distance feeling insurmountable.

“No,” you said, shaking your head. “I won’t leave you like this.”

“I don’t want to hurt you!” she shouted, the anguish in her voice ripping through you. “But I can’t stop this. I need to do something! I have to prove that I’m not weak!”

“Prove yourself by being strong enough to choose love over hatred!” you pleaded, your heart racing. “By choosing to fight for a better future, not just revenge!”

Jinx faltered, the fire in her eyes dimming as the weight of your words settled over her. But just as quickly, her fierce expression returned, anger bubbling back to the surface. “You don’t get it! You have no idea what it’s like to fight for survival!”

“Then let me in, Jinx!” you yelled, frustration mixing with desperation. “Show me! Let me help you! But don’t push me away!”

The chaos of the workshop faded into the background as you stood there, raw and vulnerable, hoping for a spark of understanding to break through her defenses.

But as Jinx’s eyes searched yours, you saw the conflict raging inside her—a storm of emotions battling against the walls she had built around herself. You could only hope she would let you in, that she would choose love over the darkness that threatened to consume her.

You watched as Jinx’s expression hardened once more, the flicker of vulnerability snuffed out like a candle in the wind. Without another word, she turned and stormed out of the workshop, the door slamming behind her with a finality that echoed through the chaos.

She didn't return the next hours, days stretched into an agonizing blur, each moment dragging heavier than the last. You found yourself wandering through the cluttered workshop, tracing the familiar paths your fingers had taken alongside Jinx. Yet, the space felt emptier without her laughter and chaotic energy. Each tick of the clock was a reminder of her absence, and the worry gnawed at your insides like a relentless hunger.

Every time you thought of her, your heart ached at the image of her battling her demons alone, becoming someone you hardly recognized. It made you cry every. single. time.

One morning, after a particularly restless night, you woke to an odd feeling. The workshop was still, the hum of machinery absent, just as it had been since Jinx left. You padded over to the workbench where Fishbones usually lay, a symbol of Jinx's chaotic brilliance. But as you peered closer, your heart sank. The spot was bare; the blueprints were scattered, but the centerpiece of her latest creation was gone

“Jinx?” you called, your voice trembling in the stillness. But there was no response, just the echo of your own fear reverberating back at you. You ask yourself when did she came back, and why did she leave without a word.

Panic surged through your veins as you began to search the workshop frantically, rifling through the scattered tools and half-finished gadgets. You felt a sense of dread pooling in your stomach. “Where did you go now?” you whispered, the question hanging heavy in the air.

You forced yourself to remember the last time you’d seen her, the angry tears in her eyes and the fierce determination in her voice. She was on a mission—one you didn’t understand, one that scared you more than you could express. You ran a hand through your hair, pacing the room, your thoughts spiraling out of control.

Maybe she had gone to confront the council, to put her plan into action without you. The thought sent a shiver down your spine. You couldn’t let her do this alone, couldn’t let her plunge deeper into the dark. Not when you could still reach her.

With a renewed sense of urgency, you grabbed your coat and headed out, determination pushing you forward. You had to find Jinx before it was too late.

As you burst out of the hideout, the chaos of the streets collided with the weight of your heart. Gasps filled the air, and the acrid scent of smoke stung your nostrils. But nothing could prepare you for the sight that greeted you: a massive bomb soaring through the sky, headed straight for the council’s hall.

“No, no, no!” you shouted, horror washing over you as the realization sank in. You knew Jinx had been plotting something, but you hadn’t expected this—this was more than chaos; this was devastation. Your breath came in ragged gasps as you turned and sprinted towards the council building, fear pushing you forward.

Your heart raced as you burst into the council chamber, dread settling in your gut as the horror unfolded before you. The chaos of the scene blurred the edges of your vision, each moment stretching painfully as reality sank in. 

The remnants of the explosion painted a devastating picture—flames flickered hungrily, consuming the walls, and the air was thick with acrid smoke and the bitter scent of ash. The acrid scent of burning debris stung your eyes, mixing with the metallic tang of blood. And there, amidst the charred wreckage, lay your mother’s body—still and lifeless, a tragic stillness that felt like the world had shattered around you.

An unbearable weight pressed against your chest, Memories still flashing before your eyes: her laughter, the way she used to tuck you in at night, the warmth of her embrace on the darkest days. Each recollection a reminder of the love that had once seemed so invincible, suffocating you in your disbelief. 

As you fell to your knees beside your mother, the world around you faded into a blur of smoke and flames.”Mom.. mom please wake up, I'm so sorry, mom please, Im sorry” you begged, hoping that this was all just a dream. You reached out, fingers trembling, desperate to feel her warmth. But as your hand met her cold skin, a bone-deep realization shattered through the haze—this was real, and she was gone.

Then you heard hurried footsteps, and Caitlyn appeared, eyes wide with shock, horror painted across her features. She froze for a moment, her breath catching in her throat as she took in the devastation around her. But beneath the surface, there was something else—something darker. As her gaze landed on your mother’s body, disbelief washed over her, and she staggered back, nearly collapsing.

“Mom! No!” Caitlyn cried, her voice cracking as she knelt beside your mother. Tears streamed down her face as she gently shook her shoulder, desperation etched across her features. “Wake up! Please… you can’t leave us like this!, mom please!”

For a moment, it seemed she might break under the weight of her grief. But then her gaze snapped to you, fury igniting in her eyes. “Y-You did this!” she shouted, her voice slicing through the air like a knife as she stood up. “You chose that bitch over us! You couldn’t see it, could you? You were too busy chasing after a lost cause!”

“Caitlyn, I—” you started, but she cut you off, advancing toward you, anger radiating off her like heat from a fire.

“Do you even realize what you’ve done?” Her fists clenched, trembling with rage. “You had a family who loved you, who wanted to protect you. I loved you, more than anything, and you threw it all away for a girl who’s nothing but a psycho! You think this is love? Look where your choices got us!”

“I didn’t know!” you cried, the reality of your decisions crashing down on you. “I thought I could help her! I thought I could make her see!”

“See what?” Caitlyn’s voice rose higher, piercing your heart with every word. “That she’s a monster? You think she cares about you? Look at what she’s done!”

“I didn’t want this! I never wanted any of this!” you shouted back, tears streaming down your face. “If I had just listened—”

“Exactly! If you had listened!” Caitlyn’s voice cracked, emotion spilling over. “But you were too caught up in your fantasy! You think she loves you? All she’s ever done is use you! And now look at what it’s cost us!”

“Stop!” you yelled, feeling the walls close in around you. “You don’t understand! I was wrong! I thought we could be happy together!”

“Happiness?” Caitlyn scoffed, bitter laughter spilling from her lips but the tears never stoped. “You think you could find happiness with someone like her? You’re delusional! This is your fault! You’ve destroyed everything!”

“No, Caitlyn! I loved her! I thought I could save her! I thought I could prove them all wrong!” You were sobbing now, every word heavy with regret. “I didn’t think—”

“Of course, you didn’t think! You never do!” Caitlyn stepped closer, her eyes blazing with fury. “You only think about yourself and your stupid feelings! You’ve ruined our family because you couldn’t keep your head on straight!”

“Don’t say that!” You felt a fire ignite within you, fueled by your pain and loss. “You don’t know anything about love! You think pushing me away would have kept me safe? You just wanted to control me, to make me into someone I’m not!”

“Control?” Caitlyn laughed again, but it was a hollow sound. “You think I wanted to control you? I wanted to protect you! But you were too blinded by your infatuation to see it! And now—” Her voice broke, and for a moment, you saw the hurt beneath her anger. “Now, we’re all paying the price. You played your part in moms murder and you know it”

You choked on a sob, the weight of her words crushing you. “I never wanted to hurt anyone! I thought we could find a way to make it work! I thought you’d understand!”

“Understand what?” Caitlyn shouted, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. “That you chose her over your own family? That you let her drag you down with her? You think she cares about you? You think she’s worth this?”

“Stop! Please stop!” you screamed, feeling the pain radiate through your chest. “You don’t know what it’s like! I thought she could be good! I thought I could be her light!”

“Light?” Caitlyn spat, the venom in her voice cutting deep. “You were just another toy for her to play with! You’ve wasted everything, and for what? For someone who will never change, for some piece of shit that killed our mother?”

“I was trying to save her!” you shouted, the realization crashing down on you. “I thought I could save her, but now... now I see what I’ve done! I swear Cait just please forgive me, i can't lose you two!, please Cait” your voice broked as you whispered the last sentence.

Caitlyn stepped back, her face pale, disappointment etched into her features. “It’s too late for that now. You’ve lost everything, and I don’t know if I can ever forgive you for this.”

The silence that followed was deafening, each of you standing amidst the wreckage of your family, the ruins of your love, and the body of the one person who had always believed in you. You felt hollow, the pain cutting deeper than any blade. Your sister’s words echoed in your mind, each one a reminder of the choices you had made and the lives that were now forever altered.

And as you both just looked at each other, the weight of your shared grief hung heavy in the air, a chasm between you that felt impossible to bridge. You had sacrificed so much for love, and yet, all you had left was the realization that in chasing after Jinx, you had lost everything that truly mattered.

The memories of laughter, warmth, and the comforting presence of your mother felt like a distant echo, now shadowed by the haunting truth of her absence. You closed your eyes, tilting your head down, trying to hold onto the fragments of those fleeting moments—her voice guiding you through life, the way her smile lit up your mood when everything felt like it was falling apart.

But now, every recollection was tinged with regret. You had followed a path paved with devotion to Jinx, believing it would lead to happiness. Instead, it had brought you to this desolate place, a barren landscape where love had turned to ashes. The bright flame of your passion had flickered out, leaving behind only the heavy smoke of loss.

You had given up everything, and for what? A chaotic whirlwind of emotions that left you empty.

In that moment of despair, you understood that love, while beautiful, could also be a cruel trick. You had thought you were strong enough to carry it all, but now you felt like a shell of the person you once were, lost in grief and heartache.

The silence around you was deafening, filled only with the echoes of your sorrow. And as the tears fell freely, you were left to confront the truth—some sacrifices were too great, and in the end, love could sometimes lead to a loss that felt insurmountable.

The silence around you was deafening, filled only with the echoes of your sorrow. As the tears fell freely, you felt the burden of the truth pressing down on you like a heavy weight—some sacrifices were too great, and in the end, love could sometimes lead to a loss that felt insurmountable.

Through the haze of your grief, a thought pierced the fog. You looked at Caitlyn, your heart aching with a mix of desperation and fear. “Caitlyn… am I going to Stillwater?” The question hung in the air, fragile and raw, reflecting the uncertainty that had taken root in your chest.

Caitlyn’s expression shifted, caught between sorrow and something darker. “I don’t know,” she replied, her voice low. “After everything... I don’t know what they’ll decide.”

The words felt like a cold slap against your skin. “But I didn’t mean for any of this to happen. I thought I could fix things.” You swallowed hard, your voice trembling. “I thought I could save her.”

“Maybe you should’ve thought about that before,” Caitlyn said, the sharpness of her words cutting deep. “You had a choice, and you chose her. Now we all have to deal with the consequences.”

Your heart sank further at her words, but you couldn’t shake the fear clawing at your insides. “Caitlyn, please. I can’t go to Stillwater. I can't lose you too!” The plea spilled from your lips, desperate and raw.

She turned away, her shoulders trembling. “You already lost me. You made your choice.”

As you watched her walk away, a hollow feeling settled in your chest, the chasm between you two feeling unfixable. You had sacrificed everything for love, yet in the end, it was you who stood alone, lost amidst the ruins of your choices.

In that moment of despair, you understood the cruel irony: love, while beautiful, could also be a devastating force, leaving only ashes in its wake. And as you hold beside your mother’s lifeless body, the reality of your situation bore down on you like a shroud, suffocating and inescapable.

You had chased after a dream, only to awaken to the nightmare of your actions—a nightmare that now threatened to swallow you whole.

[johnbrand]

New Favorite Brew

With @misctf, continuing their Gridiron Brew series

“David, c’mon we’re gonna be late for yoga!”

Matty shouted, grabbing his mat as he launched himself out of his room. He knew that the pair should not have gotten drunk last night. You could not squeeze that many drinks into twinks skinnier than rails! Matty had stopped while he was ahead–although not super far ahead as he was still a bit hungover–but David had gone hard. He had even pounded back a beer that he had gotten from the liquor store for free before they had arrived at Matty's apartment. They had exclusively drank hard seltzers since graduating a year ago, so when the cashier handed them the beer as a part of a promotion, they laughed. 

But now rushing towards the door, Matty knew they would be doing anything but laughing if they missed this yoga class. They had spent a fortune on securing their spots months ago.

“Ready to go, David?”

“What's goin' on, bro?”

Matty stood in shock for a moment at the naked man on his couch. The brute was large, hairy, and old–probably twice the size, girth, and maturity of Matty. This uber-masculine mammoth of a creature was not at all what Matty had been expecting, causing him to audibly squeak.

“Whatcha lookin’ at, bro?” His voice was deep, resonant and gruff. “Oh yeah, sorry you know how I get when I go too far. Would always lose my clothes by the end of the party, just reliving the good old frat days I guess.”

“I…uh…” Matty stuttered, but quickly recovered himself. Dave was right, this always happened when he got too drunk. “I’ll see you later, I have to get to my yoga class.”

“Sure,” Dave yawned, not even bothering to cover himself as he cracked open another can of beer as his breakfast. “Good luck or whatever, bro!”

Matty left, his bewilderment rapidly evaporating into being simply unfazed. By the time he was in his car, the whole situation was already behind him. Matty’s class was the only thing on his mind. In moments, he had his Top Hits of the 2010s playlist blasting through his earbuds. He luckily made it on time to his class, and afterwards was exhausted. Ripping his sweat-soaked shirt off as soon as he was in his car, Matty took a moment to recover and laid back in his seat. When he opened his eyes again, he was surprised by the metallic glare hitting his eyes.

Twisting around, Matty was surprised to find a can of beer in his car. He presumed it had been misplaced from his and Dave’s shenanigans last night at the liquor store; Matty’s bag of seltzer’s and Dave’s bag of six-packs. The can in question must have slipped out. Curiously, Matty picked up the can, the aluminum exterior slightly warm from having sat in the sun. The label was not anything special, brown with an old-timey football player on the front. The words “Gridiron Brew” were somehow delivered in the most masculine and yet generic font possible.

Feeling a sudden thirst, and growing interest as to why Dave was so addicted to the stuff, Matty carefully cracked it open. He did not know what he expected, but that first sip of standard cheap beer tasted like…cheap beer. There was nothing remarkable, no mouthwatering trigger that made Matty instantly understand why Dave was so obsessed with the stuff. It was probably not fair that he was having it warm, but Matty-

BOOOOOUUUURRRPP!

Matty clasped a hand over his mouth as quickly as possible, his face flushing scarlet. But before the embarrassment had completely resided, his hand moved down to his stomach. His glistening abdominals were cramping up, tightening in on themselves violently underneath his touch. Through his bare skin, it almost felt to Matty as if they were vibrating.

“Oh god…” Matty groaned. Suddenly, the tightness Matty was feeling was softening. Underneath his finger tips, his stomach began to expand, pushing out a thin layer of fat over his abs. A second coat was applied on top of the first, and then a third onto the second, until eventually the bulge emerged over his waistband. And his tight pecs soon jutted out onto his muscle gut with both fat and muscle, their taut nature now loosened dramatically. Frantically, Matty read over the tagline of the beer, his arms and legs bulking up proportionally with his midsection. “Gridiron Brew is for the ex-jock in you!” 

“Nnnhh…broooo…!” Matty pleaded to the open space, his voice taking on a lower and rougher nature. An aggravating warmth began to swarm his already overheated body, testosterone surging as it caused hair to erupt across Matty’s frame. From his dense pubes sprang forth a current of hair tracing over every available inch of his body. Nothing was spared, and Matty could not decipher through his agony if the masculinity upgrade was something to be reviled or cherished.

Matty prayed for his distress to end, gripping his gut and the beer can as his face rounded out, widening before disappearing underneath a thick beard. Age lines and wrinkles carved onto Matty’s once-clean skin, which was quickly growing a bit leathery as his body rapidly aged. Eventually the pain began to fade, and Matty could do nothing beside inhaling and exhaling slowly. Eventually, he realized he had been subconsciously flexing his pecs.

It was a strange sensation, feeling the slabs of meat bounce up and down, but at the same time it was…calming? Matty could not describe it, having never done it before. But then why did it feel so familiar? Feeling his girth, relishing in his massive size. It had been something he had enjoyed since he had discovered it back in high school, right? But that felt like years ago. Was it years ago? Matt nodded slowly–it must have been. Yeah, back when they played good music like the stuff on his Top Hits of the 90s playlist. 

Matt tossed back another swig of his new favorite brew before starting the car. He continued to relish his past glory days, never to realize that moments before he had been living those cherished days, and that they were not mere memories of decades past.