#the way this just pulled me back from the brink

[sherewrytes]

Love and Gunshots, Eren x Black Reader

Gang member Eren x Introvert black reader

Summary: In a dangerous urban landscape, y/n, an introverted Criminal Law student, finds herself drawn into the violent world of the Sixx Gang through her protective cousin, Onyankopon. When she locks eyes with Eren Yeager, a hot-headed gang member, a twisted game of desire and danger begins.

As Eren becomes obsessed with y/n, he threatens to unravel the fragile balance Ony has maintained to shield her from their brutal lifestyle. With loyalty tested and violence lurking at every turn, the lines between love and danger blur, leading to a dark climax where the heart proves just as lethal as a gun.

Genre: Dark Romance/Crime Modern au

Warnings: Graphic violence, drug use, smut, obsession

I’ll re edit this when I’m better, in the mean time happy reading

Taglist: @topshotdivaa @prettypink-princesss @burpzz @niaizzy1623 @jcoleisbetter @msjaeger @hidd3nbimbo @vampimilikis @nova2kss honeydrzzldpeaches

Chapter 4: After Dark

The room was dead silent except for the faint hum of the city outside. My leg throbbed with every beat of my heart, and the sharp, searing pain made it impossible to sit still. I was gripping the couch cushion like my life depended on it, trying to focus on anything but the bullet lodged in my thigh.

Ony sat across from me, his face cold, unreadable. His AR-15 rested against his leg, but it was his eyes that held the real threat. He was always calculated, but tonight? He was on a different level.

I scoffed, leaning back against the couch despite the pain. 

“You really shot me, huh? All this over a girl?” 

I laughed bitterly, shaking my head. 

“Guess I must’ve hit a nerve.”

Ony didn’t say a word. Instead, he stood, walked over, and leaned down. For a second, I thought he might say something, maybe even offer some twisted apology.

But then his hand shot out, and his fingers pressed into the wound in my thigh.

“FUCK!” 

I screamed, the pain ripping through me like fire. My hands flew up, trying to shove him off, but Ony was solid, unmoving.

He didn’t let up, his face inches from mine, his eyes dead and cold.

 “You think this is a game, huh?” 

he said, his voice low, almost a whisper. 

“You think you’re untouchable?”

I clenched my teeth, my breath coming in ragged gasps. The room swam in and out of focus, and the only thing I could see was Ony’s face, calm and collected, like he wasn’t driving me to the brink.

Finally, he pulled his hand back, wiping the blood off his fingers onto my face.

“There. Now you look the part,” he said, straightening up and walking back to his chair. He sat down, his AR-15 resting on his lap like a king on his throne.

The door burst open, and Hange strolled in, a large duffel bag slung over their shoulder. They took one look at the scene and sighed. “The hell did I walk into this time?”

Connie, still perched on the edge of the counter, shrugged. “Bad mission.”

Hange narrowed their eyes, setting the bag down and pulling out supplies. “Yeah? Looks more like bad decisions.”

They knelt in front of me, pulling out a pair of scissors and cutting through the fabric around the wound. I hissed as the cold air hit the exposed skin, but Hange was already in work mode, muttering to themselves as they cleaned the area.

“You idiots better keep this under wraps,” they said, glancing up briefly. “You know Levi’s a crash-out. He finds out about this, and he’s lighting the block upland then some, no questions asked.”

Connie chuckled, taking another drag from his joint. “Levi lives for that shit. Ain’t no way we’re letting him in on this.”

Hange sighed, focusing back on my leg. “Good. Now sit still, Jaeger. This is gonna suck.”

Jean, who had been sitting silently on the other side of the room, finally spoke up. “Yo, Connie, play that track you were on about the other day.”

Connie grinned, pulling out his phone and connecting it to the Bluetooth speaker. Within moments, the heavy, dark beat of Black Rain by Kman 6ixx filled the room, the bass vibrating through the walls.

The music set the tone, dark and brooding, fitting for the blood-stained floor and the tension still lingering in the air.

As Hange worked, I leaned back, letting the music drown out the pain and the anger bubbling under the surface. Ony sat across from me, his gaze never leaving mine, his gun still in his lap.

The heavy bass of Black Rain pulsed through the room, and despite the searing pain in my thigh, I found myself nodding to the beat. It was gritty, raw—exactly the kind of energy that matched the night.

“Yo, Connie,” I said, tilting my head toward him, “who’s this?”

Connie grinned, tapping ash from his joint into a tray. “Some TriniBad artist,” he said. “Kman 6ixx. Got that underground heat.”

Ony, still lounging in his chair with his AR-15 resting across his lap, chuckled darkly. “Man’s got some heat, alright. But he ain’t just some artist.” His tone carried weight, like he knew something the rest of us didn’t.

I pulled out my phone, opened Shazam, and tagged the track. The app gave me the info, and I quickly added it to my Spotify playlist. This was the kind of music that hit when you were deep in it, when the life you lived wasn’t just survival but a statement.

Hange wiped the blood off their gloves as they packed up their tools, the sharp smell of antiseptic lingering in the air. They stood, stretching their back before turning to Ony, their face tight with irritation.

“So,” Hange said, hands on their hips, “is there a reason you shot him, or are we just playing ‘spin the bullet’ for fun now?”

Ony didn’t even blink. He leaned forward slightly, his eyes locked on mine. “Oops,” he said simply, his voice cold and detached.

Hange sighed, muttering something under their breath. “Oops, my ass. Y’all need therapy.”

Connie laughed, passing the blunt to Jean, who had been leaning against the wall, watching everything unfold. “Therapy don’t pay the bills,” Connie said, his tone light, but his eyes carried that knowing look. “Besides, who’s got time for a therapist when you’re dodging bullets?”

Jean smirked but stayed quiet, taking a slow drag and blowing the smoke toward the ceiling.

As Hange packed up their supplies, I stared at Ony, the weight of his earlier actions still sitting heavy in the room. He had made his point clear without saying much. This wasn’t just about me stepping out of line. It was about power, control, and the constant reminder that in this world, loyalty was everything—and mistakes were paid for in blood.

“We good now?” I asked, my voice low, but there was no mistaking the edge in my tone.

Ony leaned back, his gun still in his lap, and gave a small, almost imperceptible nod. “For now.”

That was Ony for you—always leaving things open-ended. Always keeping you guessing.

I leaned back, feeling the throbbing ache in my thigh as the room buzzed with tension. Ony’s calm demeanor pissed me off more than the pain. I had to know why he kept trying to keep me away from Y/N, like he had some moral high ground.

“So, Ony,” I said, my voice low, laced with sarcasm, “is there a real reason you don’t want me around your cousin? Or is this just about you flexing?”

Ony didn’t even look up from his gun, calmly checking the chamber. “Rest my case, please,” he said smoothly, like that was supposed to explain everything.

Jean, who had been nursing his blunt in the corner, snorted. “What the fuck kinda English is that?”

Without missing a beat, Ony and I answered in unison, “It’s Trini slang.”

Jean threw his hands up, shaking his head. “Man, y’all always talking in riddles. Can’t keep up.”

Ony finally looked up, his eyes narrowing slightly. “I’m a second-gen immigrant. Picked it up from my parents. You wouldn’t get it.”

The conversation shifted, but my mind was elsewhere. My thoughts circled back to Y/N, her quiet voice, the way she always avoided eye contact when she was nervous. Ony might think he’s protecting her, but he didn’t see what I did. She didn’t need saving—from me, at least.

I pulled out my phone, ignoring the dull ache in my leg as I opened our chat.

“You good?” I typed, staring at the screen for a second before hitting send.

The message went through, and I waited. The seconds dragged on as I watched the little "read" notification pop up. She’d seen it. But no reply.

My jaw clenched, and I felt that familiar surge of frustration. She left me on read.

I stared at our text thread for a long moment, my mind racing. She wasn’t going to ignore me forever. I’d make sure of that.

Ony might think he could warn me off, but he didn’t understand. Y/N was mine. She didn’t know it yet, but she would. I’d make her see.

The longer I stared at my phone, the tighter my grip got, my knuckles turning white. The thought of Y/N sitting in her room, probably thinking about Ony’s bullshit warnings, made my blood boil. She was letting him get in her head.

I shoved the phone back in my pocket and ran a hand through my hair, trying to push down the rising possessiveness threatening to spill over. But it wasn’t going anywhere. I could feel it crawling under my skin, coiling in my chest like a snake ready to strike.

Ony thought he was protecting her, but all he was doing was pissing me off. Y/N needed someone who understood her, someone who saw past her shy, introverted walls. That was me. Not Ony. Not anyone else.

I glanced at Ony, who was now cleaning his gun like nothing had happened, and a dark smirk crept onto my face. “You think ignoring me is gonna work?” I muttered under my breath. “You don’t know me, Y/N.”

Jean’s voice cut through my thoughts. “Yo, Eren, you good? You look like you’re about to murder someone.”

I snapped out of it and gave him a half-smirk. “Nah, just thinking.”

Jean raised an eyebrow but didn’t press. Connie passed him the blunt, and the room filled with smoke and the low thrum of bass from the speakers. But my mind was far from here.

I pulled out my phone again, this time scrolling through my contacts until I landed on Y/N’s number. My thumb hovered over the call button. I knew she wouldn’t pick up, not after leaving me on read. But that didn’t matter.

I hit the button anyway, letting it ring once before hanging up. I wasn’t trying to get her to answer. I just wanted her to know I was thinking about her, that I wasn’t going anywhere.

Because if she thought she could ghost me, she had another thing coming. Y/N was mine, and I wasn’t about to let Ony or anyone else get in the way of that.

I leaned back, letting the music wash over me as I plotted my next move. Y/N could run, she could hide behind Ony’s warnings, but she’d learn soon enough—when it came to me, there was no escaping.

Three days. Three long, agonizing days since Y/N left me on read. My patience was wearing thin, and I was itching to see her. But instead of dragging her out of her house like I wanted, I was stuck in this freezing warehouse, listening to Levi drone on about territory and some gang we were clashing with.

His voice was sharp, cutting through the cold air as he paced back and forth. “They’ve been moving product on our block. That’s a problem. We need to send a message.”

I wasn’t paying attention, though. My mind kept circling back to Y/N. What was she doing? Was she thinking about me? Probably sitting in her room, replaying Ony’s words. That thought made my chest tighten. Ony didn’t get to control her life—or mine.

I shifted my weight, leaning against a rusted metal beam, trying to focus, but it wasn’t working. All I could think about was pulling her into my arms, making her look me in the eyes, and telling her exactly how this was going to go.

Before I could sink any deeper into my thoughts, a sharp blow landed on my calf, and my leg buckled. “Fuck!” I hissed, hitting the cold concrete floor.

Levi stood over me, his usual deadpan expression tinged with irritation. “Daydreaming again, Jaeger? You think this is a fucking joke?”

I glared up at him, my teeth clenched. Big mistake. His boot connected with my jaw in a flash, and my head snapped to the side. Pain exploded in my skull, and for a moment, everything blurred. I saw stars, bright and mocking.

Levi crouched down next to me, his voice calm but laced with menace. “You’re lucky you’re good at your shit, Jaeger. Otherwise, I’d put a bullet in your head and piss on your grave.”

I spit out a bit of blood, my jaw throbbing. My pride was wounded, but I didn’t dare say a word. Levi didn’t need much of a reason to end someone, and I wasn’t stupid enough to push him further.

He stood and turned back to the group, continuing like nothing had happened. “Now, as I was saying, we need to send a message. Eren, you’re with Jean and Reiner on this one. No screw-ups.”

I nodded, wiping the blood from my mouth as I slowly got back to my feet. My jaw ached, and my head was spinning, but I didn’t care. All I could think about was Y/N.

Levi could beat the hell out of me for all I cared, but he couldn’t stop me from getting what I wanted. And what I wanted was her.

As soon as this mission was over, I was going to make sure Y/N understood that she couldn’t ignore me. Not anymore.

I reluctantly dragged myself off the cold concrete floor, wincing at the dull ache in my jaw. The last thing I wanted to do right now was focus on Levi’s bullshit, but the mission wasn’t going to sort itself out. So, I swallowed my pride and strolled over to Jean and Reiner, the two of them already chatting about the job ahead. “Let’s go sort shit out,” I muttered, my voice low.

Reiner couldn’t resist, his stupid laugh echoing in the warehouse as he looked at me. “Yo, Levi really rocked your shit, huh?” He grinned, clearly amused. I wanted to smack the taste out of his mouth, but he was part of the crew. For now.

Jean shot me a quick glance, his face serious. “You good, man? You look like you’ve been through hell.”

“I’m fine,” I said through gritted teeth, forcing the pain back. My mind was still on Y/N. I couldn’t afford to focus on the bruising in my mouth when I had a more important mission in mind.

I made my way to my Hellcat, the rumble of the engine filling the air as I popped the trunk. I stared at the freshly customized Bushmaster I had just acquired, my fingers tracing over the cold metal. The gun wasn’t just a tool—it was a statement.

As I carefully examined the engraving on the barrel, my eyes locked onto the words carved into the side. Y/N. I had her name etched there, just so I could see it every time I held it. Every time I committed, every time I did my job. I wanted her with me, even when she didn’t understand why.

I closed the trunk with a satisfying thud and slid into the driver’s seat. Reiner and Jean piled into the Jeep Wrangler behind me, their faces already set in that grim expression we all wore when we were heading into a mission.

I gripped the steering wheel, my thoughts still tangled with Y/N. I knew she was playing hard to get, probably listening to Ony and the rest of the people who didn’t know the first thing about us. But she didn’t know how far I was willing to go for her. And tonight, after this job, I’d remind her.

“Let’s go handle this,” I muttered, revving the engine.

Reiner leaned forward from the backseat. “You good to drive?”

I barely spared him a glance, my focus sharp now. “I’m fine. Just keep your head in the game.”

The city lights flashed by as I accelerated down the street, the adrenaline of the mission kicking in, but that nagging thought of Y/N never left. I had to remind her that she was mine—and no one, not even Ony, could tell me otherwise.

The streets blurred past me as I gripped the steering wheel, my mind focused on the mission, but it was hard to ignore the rage simmering beneath the surface. The feeling of blood pumping through my veins, the adrenaline coursing through me as I prepared for another round of chaos. Levi’s orders echoed in my ears, but honestly, I didn’t need much pushing. I loved these moments—this was where I thrived. This is where I could be the unhinged, cold-blooded monster I needed to be to survive in this world.

We were headed into enemy territory now, a rival gang that had the audacity to step onto turf we controlled. Their mistake. Their stupid, reckless mistake. They took what wasn’t theirs. Now we’re going to remind them why they should’ve stayed in their own fucking lane.

As we arrived, the weight of the situation hit me. The area had the usual gritty feel of a war zone. Graffiti-covered walls, abandoned buildings, and cars stripped down to their frames scattered the streets. But this time, there was something different in the air—something thick with tension. We were deep in their turf now.

I pulled up near an alley, the engine of the Hellcat purring as I shifted the car into park. “Alright, we move fast,” I said, my voice low but commanding.

Jean and Reiner both nodded, already reaching for their weapons. But me? I wasn’t grabbing just any weapon. I reached into the compartment under the seat, pulling out my twin Berettas. I called them The Butchers, because that’s what they did—they sliced through whatever stood in front of them. I’m about to put these fuckers to work.

Jean raised an eyebrow at me. “You really gotta name them?”

I didn’t answer him. I just cocked the guns with a satisfying click. “Let’s make sure they know who runs this fucking city.”

We moved in silence, slipping through the shadows like predators hunting their prey. We were on their turf now, and I could already feel the heat rising in me. This is where I was at my best—dark, savage, unhinged. This is when I could show out, remind them all what happens when you cross the wrong people.

“You ready for this?” Reiner asked, his voice tense, but his eyes betraying the calm confidence of someone who had been in this situation countless times before.

I turned to him, my eyes cold and calculating, “You better believe it.”

We crept up to their hideout, a run-down building that had clearly been repurposed into their base of operations. I could hear voices coming from inside—low murmurs of gang members who thought they were untouchable. They didn’t even know we were here yet.

I signaled to Jean and Reiner. “On my count. We go in.”

I kicked open the door with a violent force, the wood splintering under my boot. The Butchers were already in my hands, the weight of them perfect in my palms.

“Hey! What the fuck—” The words were barely out of the guy’s mouth when I slammed the first Beretta into his chest, dropping him instantly with a spray of blood. The second one followed in quick succession, hitting another guy who tried to pull his piece on me. He didn’t even get a chance to fire.

“No talking, no mercy,” I muttered to myself, my blood pumping harder, the heat in me rising to a fever pitch.

Jean and Reiner were behind me, both handling their own targets, but I was lost in the moment. I loved this feeling—the chaos, the violence, the rush of power that came with knowing I controlled everything in this space. These men, these weaklings, they didn’t matter. They were just bodies in my way, obstacles to be removed.

“Fuckin’ pussies.” The words slipped from my lips like a growl as I moved deeper into the building, clearing rooms with brutal efficiency.

I rounded a corner, slamming into a guy who tried to tackle me, but I was too fast. I twisted his arm behind his back and shoved my knee into his spine, hearing a satisfying crack as I slammed his face into the concrete floor. “You think you own this block? You don’t own shit.”

Reiner came up behind me, clearing out the last of the goons, while Jean kicked open the final door. “Eren, we’re done here. The place is clear.”

But I wasn’t done. Not yet.

I stormed into the room, seeing the head honcho of this little operation trying to scramble for his gun. “You’re gonna regret this,” he spat, but his fear was evident. He knew exactly what was coming.

I grabbed him by the throat, lifting him off the ground with ease. “You’re the one who’s gonna regret this.” I slammed his back into the wall, pinning him there. The Butchers were still in my hands, and this guy’s fate was sealed.

Jean called out, “Eren, don’t waste time. Let’s get out of here.”

But I couldn’t resist. I pressed the barrel of my Beretta into the guy’s forehead, a sick smile pulling at the corners of my lips. “You wanted to take our turf, huh? Here’s your message.”

I squeezed the trigger. His body went limp, a final breath escaping his lips as his blood splattered across the walls.

“Done.” I turned to Jean and Reiner, the rush still surging through me.

Reiner gave me a smirk. “You’re fucking crazy, man.”

I chuckled darkly, wiping the blood from my face with the back of my hand. “Maybe. But that’s why they respect me.”

As another body hit the floor, I didn’t feel the usual rush of satisfaction. Not yet. There was one more thing to take care of. I was done with the shooting for now, but I needed answers—needed to send a message to anyone else who might think they could just step on our turf without consequences.

I walked over to the head honcho, who was still gasping for air, trying to lift his hands in defense but failing miserably. He was weak. Pathetic. A useless leader. A foolish man who had the audacity to think he could challenge us.

I grabbed him by the collar, dragging him across the floor and tossing him into a chair. His head snapped back against the wood with a sickening thud, but I didn’t care. I pulled a set of zip ties from my pocket, expertly securing his wrists to the arms of the chair, making sure he couldn’t move, couldn’t run. His fear was palpable as he stared at me, eyes wide, probably wondering if I was about to end him right here.

“What’s your name?” I asked, my voice low and dangerous.

He swallowed hard, looking at me like I was a monster. “You think you’re gonna get away with this?”

I leaned in close, my breath hot against his ear as I whispered, “I think you’re the one who’s about to answer some questions.”

His eyes flickered to the Beretta in my hand, and I couldn’t help but smirk. It was just a reminder of who was in control. The guy’s breath was shaky now, sweat trickling down his forehead. He opened his mouth to say something, but I cut him off with a sharp command. “Name. Now.”

His mouth tightened, and for a moment, I thought he might not speak at all. But after a few tense seconds, he relented. “Leon. My name’s Leon.”

“Good,” I muttered. Then, I straightened up, taking a step back and giving him some space to think—though I wasn’t about to make this easy on him. “Now, Leon, I have a few questions for you. You listen, and you answer. Real simple. First one—who’s running your shit now?”

He swallowed again, his throat visibly tightening. “I—We’re not with the Vipers anymore. We’re under new leadership. Darius... He’s the one you should be talking to.”

I grinned, a dark, twisted smile stretching across my face. “Darius, huh? That’s funny, because I thought your guys were the Vipers.”

He hesitated, but I could see the fear in his eyes now, knowing he was digging a deeper hole for himself with every word he spoke. “We were. But not anymore. Darius—he made some moves, took out the old crew, and now he runs the whole east side.”

I laughed softly, the sound cold and menacing. “Darius, huh? So this is how it’s going down now, huh? You think you’re gonna come onto my block, run it like it’s some new kingdom, huh? Darius doesn’t control shit. This is still my city, Leon. My fucking city.”

His gaze darted around the room, like he was trying to find a way out—some way to escape the reality that he was caught in a trap. But there was no escape. Not for him. Not for any of them.

“Darius thinks he can just come in here and take over, huh?” I said, mostly to myself, as I paced in front of him, my fingers trailing over the grip of the Beretta.

I knelt down in front of him, leaning in close again, so close I could feel the heat from his breath on my skin. “I’m gonna give you a choice, Leon,” I said softly, my voice dripping with menace. “You’re gonna tell me everything about Darius’s operation. Where he’s hiding, who’s with him, all of it. Or I’ll make sure you never get a chance to run that mouth of yours again.”

He shook his head, trying to plead. “I don’t know! I swear, I—”

I cut him off, pressing the barrel of the Beretta to his kneecap. He yelped in pain, his body tensing in terror. “You don’t know? You better know, because if you don’t, I’ll start with the fingers. Let’s see if you remember where you put all that information then.”

He blanched, his eyes going wide as he realized the kind of hell he was about to endure. “Alright! Alright! I’ll tell you everything! Just don’t—don’t hurt me, please.”

I smiled again, pulling the gun away from his knee and setting it down on the table in front of him, giving him just enough space to breathe. But not enough to get comfortable. “Good. That’s what I like to hear.”

“Darius... He’s got a stash house just outside the city, up by the old docks. He’s been dealing with some... some big names. He’s working with other gangs and shit man. It’s not just the Eastside anymore. He’s got muscle from all over.”

I nodded slowly, taking in everything he said. This was exactly what I needed. Darius had moved in fast, taking advantage of the gap in the market left by the Vipers. But he wasn’t going to keep it for long. “You know, Leon,” I said, my voice cold as I leaned in close to his ear, “You just made a real smart decision. You gave me everything I need. But that doesn’t mean you’re gonna walk away from this clean.”

His eyes widened in fear again, but I didn’t give him a chance to speak. I stood up, pulling a knife from my belt and flipping it open. “You think we’re done here? Nah.”

The blade flashed, and in one swift motion, I slashed through the zip ties holding his wrists. “I don’t want you to forget who did this to you. And the next time someone from your crew comes sniffing around here, you tell them to keep their hands off my turf.”

I turned my back on him, walking toward the exit. I was done with him.

“And Leon?” I called over my shoulder, stopping in the doorway.

He looked up, terrified. “W-what?”

“Tell Darius I’m coming for him. And when I find him, I’m taking his head. Don’t make me look for him.”

As I was walking to leave the room, a flicker of movement caught my eye. Leon, desperate and panicked, was trying to crawl away, dragging his broken body toward the door. He thought he could escape—thought maybe I’d let him run off with his life. Big mistake.

I didn’t even hesitate. I pulled the Beretta from my waistband, aiming at his back. BANG! The shot rang out, the bullet piercing his spine, sending him crashing to the floor with a scream. Blood pooled beneath him, his body twitching from the shock of the impact.

I laughed. It was a dark, twisted laugh, one that felt almost alive inside me. I skipped over to him, my footsteps light and fast, like a predator closing in on its prey.

“Opps,” I mocked, bending down next to him. His face was contorted in pain, eyes wide, tears mixing with the blood on his face. I could see the fear in his eyes as he tried to drag himself forward, but his body refused to cooperate.

I leaned in close, my voice dropping to a sickening whisper. “That was for your ankle.”

Without another word, I aimed the Beretta at his ankle and pulled the trigger again.

BANG!

This time, the shot was so precise, the bullet shattered through the joint, and I watched with twisted satisfaction as his body jerked violently on the floor, unable to move much. The scream he let out was the final cry of a man who knew he wasn’t getting out of this alive.

He was done. There was no more begging, no more running. Just a broken body on the floor, his life fading away with every second.

I stood there for a moment, savoring the sound of his labored breathing, feeling the adrenaline pumping through my veins.

“Don’t forget who runs this,” I muttered, a dark grin spreading across my face as I turned and walked out, leaving him to bleed out in that empty room.

Jean and Reiner were looking at me crazy but who the fuck really cares. then Jean said "I see why Ony wants you away from his cousin.."

Jean’s words hit me like a slap, and the moment he said her name, my mind went dark. "I see why Ony wants you away from his cousin..."

That was all it took. Every ounce of control I’d been holding onto snapped. I wasn’t thinking anymore—I was reacting, my body moving before my brain could catch up. I was on him in an instant, fingers wrapping around his collar, yanking him toward me as my fist swung.

But Jean, quick as ever, dodged. Just barely.

He smirked, but I could see the flicker of caution in his eyes as he backed away, positioning himself defensively.

"Yo, chill, Eren," Reiner’s voice came from behind, but I wasn’t hearing him. My mind was only on one thing: her. Jean had spoken her name like it was nothing, like he could just throw it around without consequences. That shit was unforgivable.

“Don't fucking talk about her,” I growled through gritted teeth, my knuckles tight on Jean’s shirt, ready to drag him into the dirt if he even dared to finish his sentence.

Jean's smirk faltered as he raised his hands in mock surrender, though his eyes were still full of challenge. He wasn’t scared of me, not like some of the others. But that’s why I hated him—he had a way of getting under my skin, like he was always poking the beast, daring me to lash out.

"Relax, man," he said, trying to step back, but I wasn’t about to let him get away that easily. I wanted him to understand that there were lines you didn’t cross.

But before I could move again, Reiner stepped between us, pushing me back with his arm. "That's enough, Eren. Don't make us deal with your shit again."

I gritted my teeth, but he had a point. If I went any further, I’d make everything worse—not just for myself, but for the crew. And I hated when Jean was right, but in this moment, he was right. I needed to focus.

Still, the words were there, gnawing at the back of my mind—her name, and the thought of anyone disrespecting her, anyone mentioning her like that, made my blood boil.

I took a deep breath, trying to calm myself. "Next time, don’t mention her name," I spat, voice low but dripping with menace. "Or I’ll make sure you don’t walk straight for a week."

Jean just rolled his eyes, but I could see the flicker of uncertainty in his face as he glanced at Reiner. He knew I wasn’t joking.

Reiner shook his head and muttered, "You’re too damn impulsive."

I didn’t care. Jean needed to learn. Everyone needed to learn. She was mine.

And I would kill anyone who thought they could touch what was mine.

I sat in my car parked across the street, the low rumble of the engine barely audible in the quiet night. The darkness cloaked me, but my eyes were locked on her house. Her house. The only place that felt like a beacon in this fucked-up world. I was supposed to be back at the warehouse, standing in front of Levi, giving him the rundown with Jean and Reiner. But screw that. I didn’t care about Levi’s glares or his threats.

This? This was more important.

The window was cracked just enough for me to hear their voices drifting out. Ony’s deep, pissed-off tone echoed into the night, laced with frustration and anger. He was arguing with her, and I knew exactly what it was about.

Me.

I leaned back in my seat, lighting a cigarette, the flame briefly illuminating my face before darkness swallowed me again. I smirked as I took a long drag. Fucking idiot. He thought he could keep me away. Thought he could scare her into staying clear of me.

He didn’t know her like I did. Doesn’t know how much she needed someone like me.

The argument grew louder, Ony’s voice sharp and commanding. “I’m serious, Y/N! Stay away from him. He’s dangerous. He’ll ruin you.”

I chuckled under my breath, blowing out a cloud of smoke. Dangerous? Yeah, maybe. But ruin her? Not a chance. I’d protect her from everyone else, even if I had to be the monster in the shadows to do it. She didn’t need protection from me; she needed protection from them. From people who didn’t understand her. People like Ony.

Her voice rose next, defiant and fierce, cutting through the night air. “I don’t need you to tell me what to do! You think you’re any better? You’ve been in that life longer than him!”

I felt a strange mix of pride and amusement bubble up. That’s my girl. Standing her ground even against someone like Ony. She wasn’t as fragile as everyone thought. She had fire, and that fire burned for me, even if she didn’t fully realize it yet.

Ony’s reply was muffled, but his frustration was clear. The argument continued, and I couldn’t help but relish the chaos. He was losing control, and he knew it.

I ashed the cigarette out on the side of the car, flicking the butt onto the pavement. My patience was wearing thin. Hearing her defend me, knowing she was willing to fight for me—it made my blood hum.

I glanced at my phone, her name glowing on the screen in my messages. Still on read. My jaw clenched. She was trying to make me sweat, but two could play that game. If she thought ignoring me would keep me away, she was wrong.

I tapped my fingers on the steering wheel, debating whether to text her again or just walk up to her door. Make Ony regret ever thinking he could keep me at arm’s length.

But for now, I waited. Watched. Because soon enough, she’d come to me. They always did.

Ony’s footsteps were heavy, his expression stormy as he slammed the front door behind him. He spotted my car immediately, his eyes narrowing like a predator locking onto its prey. His hand went to his waistband, and I caught the glint of steel under the streetlight as he stormed across the street.

I rolled my eyes but kept my cool, letting my hand rest lazily on the wheel. I knew what was coming. Sure enough, Ony stalked right up to the driver’s side, his gun already cocked, and pointed it directly at my head.

I didn’t flinch.

Rolling down the window, I came face-to-face with the barrel, a calm smirk tugging at my lips. "The fuck you doing outside my crib, E?" Ony growled, his voice low and dangerous. His finger twitched on the trigger, but I could see the restraint in his eyes. He wasn’t ready to pull it—not yet.

I leaned back slightly, resting my arm on the open window, completely unfazed. “Relax, big guy,” I drawled, my tone smooth, almost mocking. “Just enjoying the night air. Didn’t know I needed an invite to park on a public street.”

Ony’s jaw tightened, his grip on the gun firm. “Don’t play games with me. You’re here for her, aren’t you? You don’t know when to quit.”

I chuckled softly, my eyes never leaving his. “Quit? Nah. I don’t do that. Especially not when it comes to Y/N.”

His expression darkened further, and I could feel the tension rolling off him in waves. “You’re a sick bastard, Eren,” he spat. “You’re gonna drag her down with you, and you don’t even care.”

I shrugged, still grinning. “Maybe. But you and I both know she doesn’t want out. She’s got a taste for this now, and you can’t scare her away. You’re just pissed you can’t control her anymore.”

That hit a nerve. Ony pressed the barrel harder against my forehead, his eyes blazing with fury. “You don’t get it, do you? I’ll put you in the ground before I let you ruin her life.”

I tilted my head slightly, my smirk never wavering. “Go ahead,” I taunted, my voice a low murmur. “Pull the trigger, Ony. Let’s see how that plays out. But we both know you won’t. ‘Cause if you do, you’ll lose her for good. And you can’t handle that, can you?”

For a moment, the world seemed to stand still. His finger hovered over the trigger, his breathing heavy. But then, slowly, he pulled the gun back, his hands trembling slightly. He was furious, but he wasn’t stupid.

“You’re a dead man walking, Eren,” Ony muttered, shoving the gun back into his waistband. “Stay the hell away from my cousin.”

I leaned forward slightly, my smirk widening. “Can’t promise that, Ony,” I said quietly, my tone dripping with defiance. “She’s already mine.”

Ony stared at me for a long moment, his fists clenched at his sides. Then, without another word, he turned and stormed off down the street, leaving me sitting there, my heart pounding with adrenaline.

I watched Ony storm off toward the house, his shoulders tense, his fists clenched. I let out a low chuckle, thinking the storm had passed. But then he stopped, just a few steps from his front door, and turned back around. His face was a mask of rage, and before I could even register what was happening—

BANG.

The sharp crack of the gun echoed through the quiet street, followed almost immediately by another. BANG.

I didn’t flinch, but my heart raced for a split second, instinctively bracing for the searing burn of a bullet. Except it didn’t come. Instead, the sound of glass shattering and metal crunching reached my ears.

I glanced to my side and saw the spiderweb cracks spreading across my passenger-side window. The second shot had ripped right through the rear quarter panel. Ony had shot my car.

“Crazy bastard,” I muttered under my breath, half-impressed, half-pissed.

The neighborhood stayed eerily silent; no one dared peek through their curtains. Everyone knew better than to get involved. That’s the kind of respect Ony commanded around here. But me? I wasn’t scared. This was a game we’d been playing for a while now, and I wasn’t about to back down.

I leaned out the window slightly, my voice carrying across the empty street. “Nice aim, Ony! You miss me already?”

He stood there for a second longer, his gun still raised as if he was contemplating whether to send a third bullet my way. Finally, he lowered it, shaking his head before disappearing into the house without another word.

I exhaled slowly, a smirk creeping back onto my face. “Cute,” I muttered, running a hand through my hair. My car was a mess, but I didn’t care. This wasn’t over. Not by a long shot.

Pulling my phone out again, I shot Y/N another text. Me: You’re not answering me, baby. I don’t like being ignored.Then, after a pause, I added: Me: See you soon.

I tossed the phone onto the passenger seat, my eyes flicking back to the house. Ony thought this was a warning. But all he did was fuel the fire.

I watched him go, then glanced back at the house. My smirk faded slightly as I pulled my phone out, my thumb hovering over Y/N’s contact. She hadn’t responded yet, but that didn’t matter. I’d see her soon enough.

I watched Ony who was glaring at me with a smile and it pissed me off he shot up my fucking green hellcat…he smirked then started walking back to his house again…. Fucking psycho.

My fingers itched, the weight of my Glock sitting snug in my lap. I let him get a few more steps ahead, then— BANG.

The shot rang out, slicing through the quiet night. Ony stumbled forward, his hand clutching at his arm as blood began to seep through his shirt.

“Ah, shit!” he growled, spinning around to face me, murder in his eyes.

I leaned out the window, my laugh echoing down the block like it was the punchline to some sick joke. “Missed your heart,” I called out, my grin wide and unrepentant. “Next time, maybe?”

Before Ony could say a word, the front door slammed open, and Y/N came storming out, her eyes blazing with fury. She was still in her house slippers, her arms crossed over her chest, but the fire in her eyes made me sit up a little straighter.

“Eren!” she snapped, her voice cutting through the night. “What the hell is wrong with you?! You’re insane!”

I shrugged, still grinning. “Only for you, baby.”

“Don’t call me that,” she shot back, her glare sharp enough to cut glass. She turned to Ony, who was still clutching his arm. “And you,” she pointed, her voice softer but still filled with irritation, “get in the house before you bleed out on the porch.”

Ony shook his head, his jaw clenched as he locked eyes with me one more time. “This ain’t over,” he growled, backing toward the door.

“It never is,” I called after him, watching as he disappeared inside.

Y/N was still standing on the porch, arms crossed, staring daggers at me. “Go home, Eren,” she said firmly. “You’re not helping anything.”

I chuckled, resting my arm on the window. “You really think I’m just gonna walk away after that?”

Her glare didn’t waver. “If you have even a shred of decency left, you will.”

I leaned back in my seat, giving her a long, slow once-over. “You know I can’t stay away from you,” I said, my voice low. “Not now, not ever.”

She rolled her eyes, spinning on her heel. “You’re impossible,” she muttered, slamming the door behind her.

I smirked, starting the car. “Yeah, but you love it.”

Your POV. 

I slammed the door shut behind us, locking it as Ony staggered toward the couch. His hand was still pressed against his arm, blood seeping through his fingers. My heart was pounding so loud it felt like it might burst out of my chest.

“I can’t believe you and Eren were shooting at each other!” I snapped, grabbing a towel from the kitchen and tossing it to him. “Isn’t that against some gang code or something? Like I’d even know.”

Ony grimaced as he pressed the towel to his arm. “Ain’t about codes right now,” he muttered. “Just text Hange and give them the house address.”

I hesitated for a second. “Hange? Who’s Hange?”

“Just do it, Y/N,” he said through gritted teeth. “They’re the crew’s medic.”

I grabbed his phone off the coffee table, my fingers fumbling slightly as I unlocked it and scrolled through his contacts. Hange’s name popped up immediately. I typed out a quick text, adding the house address before hitting send.

“They’ll be here in a few,” I said, dropping the phone onto the table.

Ony leaned back, his face twisted in pain. “That idiot,” he muttered. “Eren doesn’t think. He acts.”

I folded my arms, pacing back and forth. “You’re not exactly the poster boy for rational behavior either. You both could’ve killed each other out there!”

Ony shot me a look, his expression dark. “And you think he wouldn’t kill for you? That man’s already got one foot in hell, Y/N. Don’t let him drag you in with him.”

I stopped pacing, my stomach churning. “I didn’t ask for this, Ony. You’re both acting like I’m some prize to be fought over.”

He scoffed, shaking his head. “It’s not about that. Eren… he’s dangerous. You think you’ve seen the worst of him, but you haven’t. Not even close.”

I swallowed hard, my mind flashing back to Eren’s wild grin, the gleam in his eyes when he shot at Ony. “He wouldn’t hurt me,” I said quietly, more to convince myself than anything.

Ony gave a bitter laugh. “He wouldn’t mean to, but that’s the thing about men like him. The chaos follows, and sooner or later, it’ll swallow you whole.”

Before I could respond, there was a sharp knock at the door. I rushed to open it, and there stood Hange, a medical bag slung over their shoulder, their eyes scanning the room with a mix of amusement and exasperation.

“Well,” Hange said, stepping inside, “looks like someone’s been busy tonight.”

[letsgoletsgetit08]

...they were roommates

summary: Hongjoong is at his wit's end with his new roommate. His new roommate, whom he finds out has a surprising way of making money.

warnings/tags: mdni, 18+, explicit smut, spanking, counting, safe/sane/consensual, light dom/sub, jung wooyoung likes being told what to do

pairings: dom!kim hongjoong x sub!jung wooyoung, cam boy!jung wooyoung

author's note: This is loosely based on canon events of Wooyoung admitting he liked it when Hongjoong bossed him around.

word count: 3,246

ao3 link: ...they were roommates

...they were roommates

Hongjoong didn’t know how much longer he could take it. He had thought it was fiscally responsible to sublet his spare bedroom for the school year, but he was quickly realizing there’s a reason people warn you about strangers on the internet. He knew that Wooyoung had been listening intently when he explained the house rules. He even repeated them back to him. 

So why was he so blatantly determined to ignore every single last one?

It was almost like he was doing it on purpose! 

The rules weren’t anything crazy either:

1) Keep the kitchen clean, wash your dishes after using them

2) I keep odd hours so I would appreciate it if you warned me if you have someone/are bringing someone over

3) Common areas are off limits for sex

4) Pay your rent on time

But Hongjoong could almost predict as he walked into the kitchen, there would be a coffee mug, a bowl, and chopsticks in the kitchen sink. 

Usually he loved being right. 

But after pulling an all-nighter, getting less than glowing reviews from his music production studio professor that morning, and to top it all off, the muted noises of sex obviously coming from the younger’s bedroom, this was the last straw. 

Hongjoong was not a prude. He felt that was worth noting. And don’t get him wrong, he definitely expected someone bright and handsome with siren eyes and an addictively animated laugh like Wooyoung to bring home sexual partners, but he never expected it to be so often. It seemed like every other day he was subjected to toe-curling noises from the man’s room. And yes, although he would never admit it to Wooyoung, due to his own schedule being crazy and having zero spare time to date around, sometimes Hongjoong touched himself to the noises, making up his own scenario in his head. But he would never ever admit that. 

He knew he was probably about to walk in on a sight that would be burned into his brain forever, but he had to admit, Wooyoung was full of surprises.

He barged into Wooyoung’s room unannounced, ready to tell him off, and was met with the sight of the man alone, spread out on his bed, completely naked, with ring lights, his phone on a tripod, and a second camera set up filming from a different angle, lubed up, fully hard cock being stroked in his hand. And he didn’t stop when Hongjoong walked in. Which was maybe the most surprising part. 

Hongjoong was too sleep-deprived and annoyed to not shake out of it and deliver his message anyway, ignoring the drool pooling in his mouth at the sight. He was so touch-starved, and he was just being hit with how badly he missed it. “Wooyoung,” he said, sternly, “Do you remember the rules you agreed to when you moved in?”

Wooyoung’s eyelids fluttered, his hand slowed slightly, surprised at the other’s tone of voice, “Yes, I do.” He said breathlessly.

“Good. Then you’ll take care of the dishes in the sink before I wake up in the morning.” Hongjoong couldn’t help but notice that his authoritative presence seemed to be… turning Wooyoung on?

The younger dared to smirk, hand picking up the pace, bratty as ever, “Or what?”

His own dick was filling in as he watched the man get closer to the brink of release, “Or what? You don’t want to know, Wooyoung. But be sure that I will figure out a way to punish you for your behavior. Show me that you understand.”

Wooyoung’s breath became shaky and he held Hongjoong’s eye contact as he said, “Yes sir.” In a strained voice.

“Good boy.” Hongjoong said, which was followed by Wooyoung releasing all over his own hand and stomach, head thrown back, his open mouth slowly turning into a smile as he came down. 

Hongjoong turned on his heel and slammed the door behind him, making quick work of his pants on his walk to his own bedroom, barely having to touch himself as the image of Wooyoung getting off was burned so vividly onto the backs of his eyelids, hips bucking as he found his own release. 

What the fuck just happened. 

They did not speak about what happened. 

But the dishes were clean and put away the next morning. And it was okay with Hongjoong that they didn't talk about it. 

But as the days went on, Wooyoung seemed to crave his attention more and more, coming by his room to ask him questions he definitely knew the answer to, appearing in the kitchen when he heard Hongjoong in there, happening to leave his room (shirtless) when he predicted Hongjoong would be in a common area. It all culminated a few days later when Hongjoong was working on his laptop in the living room and Wooyoung walked through right as Hongjoong’s stomach let out a loud growl, obviously hungry. He actually couldn’t remember the last time he had eaten. 

Wooyoung plopped himself down on the couch next to him, reaching up to pull his headphone gently off of his ear, a bright smile on his face as he leaned in to ask, “Anything I can do to help with that?”

Hongjoong huffed through his nose, “You could be useful for once and cook us dinner.” He said, cocking an eyebrow, challenging. 

He could almost swear he saw Wooyoung shiver at the instruction, “If I cook for us, you have to take a break and eat with me.” He poked his bottom lip out, pouting. 

“If I take a break with you to eat, you have to clean up the kitchen afterwards.” Hongjoong shot back. 

“No fair!” Wooyoung whined. 

“I didn’t say I was fair,” Hongjoong grabbed Wooyoung’s wrist, pulling his hand off his headphone, daring to stroke it gently with his thumb before placing it gently onto the younger’s lap, “What are you waiting for?” He asked as he turned back to his laptop, putting his headphone in place once more. 

Maybe he was cracking the code on this whole roommate situation. 

And he was good to his word, he pointedly picked up his laptop and deposited it onto his desk in his bedroom, closing the door behind him after Wooyoung came by to tell him dinner was ready. Wooyoung was a good cook, and he told him as much, delighting as he watched the man preen with the praise. 

“I want to play a game,” Wooyoung announced as he all but pranced over to the table with a chilled, unopened bottle of soju in one hand, a pair of shot glasses in another. 

“A game?” Hongjoong’s curiosity was piqued, he couldn’t deny it. 

“Mhm,” Wooyoung nodded as he poured two shots, “It’s Friday night, Hongjoong. Can your project wait until tomorrow? You deserve to let loose and have fun occasionally, you know.”

Hongjoong sighed, thinking about it. Really he did have plenty of time to finish his assignment over the weekend, even if he spent half of tomorrow hungover. And really, truthfully, he was becoming increasingly curious about Wooyoung. He would like to see where this was going. “Okay. Fine. You got me. What game do you want to play, Woo?”

Wooyoung blushed at the shortening of his name, “I want to know more about you. It’s been almost two months and we barely have spoken to each other. So I want to take turns asking each other questions. If we don’t want to answer, take a shot.” He smiled smugly. Pleased with his own genius idea.

“Seems fair enough to me,” Hongjoong concluded, “But let’s move to the couch, these chairs suck.” And I don’t want a hunk of wood separating us, he thought to himself as they relocated. 

Wooyoung sat next to him on the couch, cross-legged, so they could face each other. 

“You can start.” He offered to the younger. 

“Okay. When was the last time you had sex?” Wooyoung gave him an impish grin after asking.

“Oh, look! Soju!” Hongjoong said as he grabbed his shot glass off the coffee table and threw it back. 

“Aw boo, you're no fun!” Wooyoung whined. 

Hongjoong ignored him, “Did you post the video with my voice in the background?” He asked as he felt the warmth from the alcohol move through his body. 

“No way,” Wooyoung looked offended, “I would never post anything with you in it, at least not without your consent first.” 

Hongjoong didn't know why he was surprised but he was glad that Wooyoung seemed to be considerate, have some sort of decorum, moral code, “Okay, good. Thank you.” 

Wooyoung reached over and squeezed his knee, “Of course. Don't thank me for doing the bare minimum. My turn!” He pretended to think about it, “Did you get off?” His voice had turned husky, “After you walked in the other day?”

Hongjoong felt heat swirl in his abdomen, blood rush to his cheeks, “Was I that obvious?” He met Wooyoung’s eyes sheepishly, the other’s were half-lidded, hungry. They both were subconsciously sipping on their soju in between questions, probably out of nervous habit.

“Is that your question?” He asked. 

“Is that yours?” He replied. 

“No.”

“Exactly.”

“Yes, you were that obvious. Ask me if I thought it was hot.” Wooyoung was leaning in now.

He felt himself swallow, “Did you think it was hot?”

Wooyoung winked and took a shot.

“You brat!” Hongjoong accosted him. 

“You like it,” Wooyoung simpered as he refilled his glass.

“Maybe.” He leaned in as well, “You like being told what to do, don't you?”

Wooyoung’s eyelids fluttered slightly, “Yes. And you like being in charge?”

“Definitely. How do you feel about being spanked?”

A blush crept up Wooyoung’s neck, “Mmh, good. Definitely good. You know I'll need aftercare, right?”

“Absolutely. Safe word?”

“Chrysanthemum.”

“Um, bless you?”

Wooyoung rolled his eyes, “It's my birth month flower.”

“My room or yours?” Hongjoong asked as he reached up to tuck a piece of hair behind the younger’s ear, noting how he leaned into the touch.

“It's my turn!” Wooyoung was more busy staring through Hongjoong's eyes straight into his soul than he was actually protesting. 

“Jagi,” Hongjoong's hand traced down the other’s face, thumb landing on his bottom lip, “I really don't care.” 

He closed the gap between their mouths, earning a squeak of surprise that quickly turned into a moan from the younger. 

Hongjoong had missed this, he hated to admit to himself. It had been far too long. 

Their lips slotted together like they had done this a thousand times before, soft, exploratory kisses quickly turning hungry, needy. Hongjoong grabbed Wooyoung’s chin, turning their heads to the side as he licked into the other’s mouth, greedily sucking on his tongue, pulling another delicious moan from his mouth.

Wooyoung pulled back, “Oppa,” he panted, “I'm not doing those dishes.” 

“I know.” He kissed down his jawline, “But you're going to make it up to me. You'll be good for me, won't you, baby?” 

A sharp intake of breath as he nipped as his earlobe, “Yes. Yes sir.” 

“Mmh,” Hongjoong attached his lips to the sensitive spot behind his ear, marking him, “So sensitive.”

He didn't give Wooyoung a chance to react, instead opting to reach down and start pulling the his shirt off, following with his own, before standing up and offering him his hand, “Bedroom. Now.” 

He led them into Wooyoung’s bedroom, knowing his roommate had condoms and lube (and probably plenty of other things) unlike himself, who was on at least a year long dry spell. Wooyoung didn't question it, just did as he was told. 

They shed their clothes quickly, Wooyoung gasping as he finally was able to see Hongjoong fully naked, “I've literally never seen you go to the gym or work out, how the fuck do you look so good?” 

Hongjoong blushed, “Shut up.”

“Make me.” Wooyoung challenged. 

“Hands and knees on the bed.” He said, kissing him lewdly before shoving him backwards onto mattress. 

He watched as the younger complied, feeling his dick fully harden at the sight of Wooyoung presenting himself, pretty cock hanging uselessly, already dripping precum. 

“Supplies are in the bedside table.” Wooyoung informed him as he made his way around the edge of the bed, “Perfect.”

He pulled out a condom and lube, put them within reachable distance on the bed, then climbed up behind the miles of velvety smooth honey skin waiting for him. 

Hongjoong grasped one of his ass cheeks, rubbing it gently, “You understand why I have to do this right, Youngie?”

“Yes sir,” He replied, breathless.

“Good,” he drew back his hand and landed the first spank, earning a startled gasp, followed by a whine as he soothed the sting with his hand, “Count for me, darling.” 

“One,” Wooyoung whimpered. 

Hongjoong barely let him get the word out before landing the next slap to his other ass cheek this time. 

“Two!” He exclaimed instinctively, nearly in shock.

“Mmh, very good, what a quick learner you are.” Hongjoong praised, as he reached for the lube, applying it to his fingers before starting to slowly circle the tight rim that was being presented to him. He drew his other hand back and landed the third strike, this one slightly harder. 

Wooyoung gasped, “Fuck. Three.” 

Hongjoong slipped his first finger inside, knuckle by knuckle, enjoying how he was being drawn in. He struck again. 

“Four.” He whined, but his hips moved greedily towards Hongjoong, obviously enjoying himself. 

“You like this, don't you baby?” Hongjoong teased as he added a second finger, letting the other adjust to it before spanking him again. Wooyoung gasped but couldn’t seemed to get words out. “Use your words, love.” Hongjoong instructed. 

“Yes,” His hips bucked as Hongjoong curled his fingers, finding his prostate, “Yes I like it.”

“What else?”

“Oh,” He was already so fucked out and they had barely started, “Five.”

Hongjoong smiled, said, “Good boy,” before landing the next one. 

“Six!” Wooyoung panted.

“I bet you could get off just like this, couldn't you?” Hongjoong stroked his ass cheek as he added a third finger. 

“Probably.” 

“Do you think you can cum twice, jagi?” Hongjoong whispered, scissoring his fingers, landing another slap. 

“Seven. Yes. Please. God yes, I'm so close already.” He sounded so desperate. It was hot. 

Hongjoong was steadily hitting his prostate, “Okay, good. You can cum on ten.” He spanked him again. 

“Eight” 

Another.

“Nine!”

Finally.

“Ten!” And he was pouring out onto the bed as Hongjoong coaxed him through it, slowing the pace of his fingers as he clenched around them. 

“Oh, what a good boy,” He removed his fingers, guiding the younger onto his back so as to avoid landing in the mess he had just made. 

Wooyoung was sweating, panting, he looked so fucking good, Hongjoong thought he might eat him for dessert. 

He kissed the inside of Wooyoung’s knee, working up his thigh, letting the other catch his breath for a minute as he kissed and sucked, feeling almost painfully hard at the idea that he would be covered in marks. Claimed. 

He was surprised at how fast the man was filling back up with arousal. Soon, he was begging, “Fuck, Hongjoong, please.”

“Please what, darling?” 

“Please, I need you inside of me.” 

“Mmh.” He pulled back to quickly roll the condom on, “Only because you asked so nicely.”

He applied more lube, then positioned himself between Wooyoung’s legs, teasing him by dragging his cock everywhere except for where he wanted him. 

Wooyoung arched off the bed, trying to find friction, grabbing for Hongjoong's hips. 

“No, no, baby.” He grabbed his hands and pinned them over his head as he finally lined himself up, starting to push in, “Hands to yourself.”

Wooyoung felt incredible, greedily sucking him in. So wet, hot, tight. 

Incredible. 

Fucking incredible. 

He took his time pressing in for as long as he could stand it, before finally burying himself to the hilt, Wooyoung’s legs wrapping around his waist. 

He paused to let the other adjust before finally landing his first thrust. Slow. Languid. Almost lazy. 

Wooyoung’s hips bucked, he whined, needy. 

Hongjoong took pity, started fucking him for real, leaning forward to graze his teeth lightly over the younger’s nipple, earning a gutteral moan in response. 

“So reactive, jagiya. You're so much fun.” He didn't wait for a response, just attached his lips to his nipple, sucking as he set a steady rhythm. 

It was probably stupid to fuck him missionary. He feared he would catch feelings. 

He feared he already had started to, position of choice be damned. 

“M so close, Joongie. Fuck. Feel so good.”

He pulled back, kissing his way up the younger's chest, up his neck, “Go ahead, gorgeous. You can let go.”

He really followed instructions so well. Hongjoong followed closely behind, feeling a little bad that he was probably overstimulating him, but by the look on his face, and the way his legs latched tight around his hips, he liked that, too. 

He collapsed on Wooyoung’s chest, both of them spent, laying panting together before he finally pulled out, discarded the condom. He returned to the bed quickly, pulling Wooyoung to his chest, stroking his hair, kissing his forehead, praising him, “You did so well, baby. You were so good. It wasn't too much, was it?”

Wooyoung shook his head, “No way. It was perfect. Thank you.” 

Hongjoong smiled into his sweaty hair, “No, thank you.” 

They showered together, Hongjoong carefully washing Wooyoung’s hair, being gentle with him, making sure he knew how cared for he was. Aftercare, yes, but Hongjoong felt there was more behind it. It was totally possible he was developing feelings for his roommate. 

“Um, Joong?” Wooyoung asked carefully as they toweled off together. 

“What's up?” 

“Can we… well. I really do better being held afterwards. It doesn't have to be all night!-”

Hongjoong cut him off, “Sleep in my bed, jagi. I'm more than happy to have you.”

Hongjoong fell asleep easily with Wooyoung tucked into his chest, his rhythmic heartbeat, his steady breath, his weight and warmth. 

He woke up to an empty bed, hearing a clattering in the kitchen, Wooyoung's voice as he was singing to himself carried to his bedroom. 

He was doing the dishes. 

Hongjoong came up behind him, wrapped his arms around his waist, making the other jump at the contact before relaxing into it once he realized what was happening. He laid kisses down his neck in greeting, meeting Wooyoung’s lips as he turned his head, asking for it. The angle was weird but they made it work. 

And that's how Hongjoong ended up giving Wooyoung head in their kitchen. 

The next few weeks went just about like that, in fact, if you asked him, Hongjoong wasn't sure there was a surface in their apartment that they hadn't had sex on at this point. It wasn't until Hongjoong woke up in Wooyoung’s bed for the third night in a row when they hadn't even had sex the night before to warrant it, that they ever breached the subject of what they were. 

“Youngie?” He pulled him close to his chest, “Be my boyfriend?”

Wooyoung giggled, “I've been yours since the first day when you walked in on me, Joong.” 

And that was that. 

The first video they posted together on Only Fans was Wooyoung's most popular to date. 

Maybe they had truly figured out this whole roommate situation.

[fuckyeahgoodomensfanfic]

All Teen & Mature Fic Recs: Alphabetically Sorted A-Z

Note that most summaries in this list are shortened. Each link will lead to the fic's rec page where you can get full details, summaries, and links to read each story.

[Explicit A-L collection] [Explicit M-Z collection]

A Curious Case of Miracles on Marlborough Street by akfedeau (38k, Mature) Crowley and Aziraphale finally take the next step in their six-thousand-year friendship. But when a spate of miracles sweeps across Soho and Mayfair, they realize their amorous escapades may have an unintended side effect.

a day in the life by attheborder (10k, Teen) “Rock and roll? Really, Crowley? No, I’m afraid I know Mr. Epstein far better than you do. We have quite similar tastes, you see, he’s a great appreciator of the classics. Brahms, Bach. He may sell pop records in his shop, but I can’t possibly see how a group like this could play a role in improving his life.”

All’s Fair In Love And Serial Killing by WyvernQuill (10k, Mature) Detective Inspector Crowley is 99.999 percent sure that Aziraphale Fell is a serial killer. The trouble is only that the remaining 0.001 percent are deeply in love with the man…

Among the Stacks by MeinirRhos (65k, Mature) Nearly a year after Aziraphale returns to Heaven, he vanishes from existence, leaving Crowley bereft on Earth. Just when the demon has finally started to heal and move on with his life, he finds his angel by chance in a library. But Aziraphale has no memory of his life as an angel, or of Crowley. How will our hero cope?

Anthophilia by FortinbrasFTW (49k, Mature) Anthony J. Crowley’s life seems like it’s finally falling into place...Things seem almost perfect, until one day the empty shop across the street is leased to frumpy fellow Oxford alumni, who doesn’t seem to remember Crowley nearly as well as he remembers him

Choose Your Faces Wisely by Poetry (5k, Teen) In a world where humans wear their souls on the outside, Crowley and Aziraphale learn to make their own.

Creative Writing for Creative Children and Panicked Nannies by munchmulch (17k, Teen) Aziraphale is as prepared for the new school year as he can be– what he’s not prepared for is an awkward man in sunglasses who’s about to pull Aziraphale into not only his own life, but the lives of Aziraphale’s students.

Dream A Little Dream Of Me (series) by lavender_mo0n (22k, Teen) The reality of Aziraphale parting ways with Crowley was a difficult reality to grasp, and so the demon decided he’d rather escape it through picking up an old habit he had long since abandoned; sleeping.

Fifteen Years of Heartache by mondlichtmaus (20k, Teen) They’re teachers. They’re in love. They’re oblivious.

Fifty-Two Blue by bendycello (84k, Mature) Crowley and Aziraphale are surgical interns with competitive streaks a mile wide each, and they really do not like each other at all. Until they do.

Fledging by FeralTuxedo (53k, Mature) Aziraphale Fell is much too young to be looking after eleven-year old Pepper. He barely has his life together as it is...there are some rather more adult problems to navigate: playground politics, the shadows of his own childhood, and the growing question of how Crowley, the only other dad at the school gate, feels about him.

God’s Silence Like the Sun by oceantears (9k, Teen) Crowley is looking for something...now, in their cottage in the South Downs, his search becomes much more obvious to Aziraphale. It happens every day, and after a while, it becomes almost performative. As if Crowley were just waiting for Aziraphale to ask what he is doing, exactly.

i’d like for you and i to go romancing by dollsome (6k,Teen) In which people keep mistaking Crowley and Aziraphale for a couple, and Aziraphale starts to wonder if there might be something to it.

In A Place Like This by ghostrat (5k, Teen) Crowley works the bar at a discreet gentleman’s club on the brink of closing. Aziraphale appears out of nowhere to get the club back on its feet, and Crowley can only admire his angel at work.

In the (Second) Beginning by cherryfeather (2k, Mature) As their lunch stretches on Aziraphale slowly comes to realize that Crowley is—enjoying him. Enjoying Aziraphale’s conversation, and company, far more openly than he has in most of Aziraphale’s memory.

in the house we remain by commodorecliche (48k, Mature) Aziraphale buys a quiet cottage in the middle of the English countryside...But when a mysterious set of books, all written by unknown author A.J. Crowley, appears on his book shelf, Aziraphale begins to wonder if there is perhaps more to this house than he’d originally believed.

In The Next Room by maidenimage (7k, Mature) In which Crowley and Aziraphale get drunk, play poker, and then everything changes. Or: Why TF is Aziraphale giving Gabriel his spare room while he let Crowley live in his car for years? Oh, this is why.

Ink Blots and Forget-Me-Nots by gutsandglitter (42k, Teen) Owning a flower shop across the street from your boyfriend’s tattoo parlor is fun and adorable. Owning a flower shop across the street from your ex-boyfriend’s tattoo parlor? Not so much.

It Was Always You by mltrefry (230k, Teen) A chance encounter during one of the worst times of Ezra Fell’s life reunites him with his once best friend and the one who got away. Though, that would imply he ever had him in the first place.

It’s About the Journey by hakunahistata (4k, Teen) two celestial beings talk about flying.

Lavender Coffin by The_Infamous_Jack (12k, Teen) Aziraphale loves the 1920s, and he only wishes that he could share it with Crowley. Unfortunately, the more time that Aziraphale spends with the humans, and the more drunken letters he writes to his absent “husband”, the more he discovers the darker undertones to the era he thought he fitted right into.

lit in the darkness by ToEdenandBackAgain (40k, Mature) Aziraphale returns to Crowley’s flat for the night after Armageddon. After all, it’s hardly the first time they’ve shared sleeping arrangements. Or: Times throughout history Crowley and Aziraphale have shared a bed.

Marriage in an Orange Grove by shanimalx (4k, Teen) Murmurationsis the oldest café in Soho, whose clientele is usually limited to reclusive artists, older men who value peace and quiet, and those who know the employees personally. Crowley is all three.

moments lost, moments gained by commodorecliche, Dervila (12k, Mature) Crowley and Aziraphale are expelled from their respective realms when their partnership is found out, and find themselves waking up in hospital as humans, with no memory of their previous natures, and no memory of each other.

My True and Complicated Romantic Feelings for the Demon Crowley by Hermuseros (27k, Mature) In which a Demonic Contract is written by the demon Crowley (and signed by the angel Aziraphale) in an attempt to resolve a very dangerous celestial standoff.

Omens On Baker Street by WorseOmens (155k full series, Teen) Sherlock and John are no longer the only crime-solving disaster duo in London. After Sherlock unknowingly wrongs a demon, he finds himself with two mysterious rivals in the detective scene. For Crowley and Aziraphale, it’s just a bit of fun, but they end up learning more about human nature than they bargained for.

on purpose, on purpose (i am going to care about you) by attheborder (2k, Teen) “Hold on. Hold on,” he hissed, going stiff under Aziraphale’s hands. “Are you— did you— what are you doing? Do you know what you’re doing?” “I’m playing with your hair, dearie.”

Our homeward steps were just as light by On1OccasionFork (7k, Teen) She flipped to the paperwork for the new gentleman, a Mr. A. Z. Fell. He was a retired literature professor, it seemed. He was slated to be in the room next to — oh, this could be a problem—Anthony.

Postcards From Paris by ghostrat (12k, Teen) Crowley has just moved into his Mayfair apartment and finds a postcard addressed to the previous tenant. With no return address, he’s left to collect and read the mysterious A.Z.F.’s adventures across Europe, where he hunts for bizarre bibles and rates ridiculously expensive wine in his free time.

Pray For Us, Icarus (series) by Atalan (65k, Teen) For three centuries, Crowley has been reincarnated over and over as a human with no memory of his past. Aziraphale has tried to find a way to restore him to his true self, but all he seems to do is hurt them both. This time, he only means to steal a brief moment when he walks into Crowley’s flower shop. But Crowley can’t let it go…

sanctuary by moonyinpisces (22k, Teen) Crowley begins to smile something slow, bright, and lovely, but he schools it with a bite to his lower lip. Aziraphale thinks of the way he looked two millennia ago, pressed up against the wall with Aziraphale’s blessing healing his wounds, the only demon to experience divine ecstasy and live to tell the tale. How Aziraphale’s hands itch to do it again, and again, and again.

Scare me goodnight, my love by The_Rogue_Bard (22k, Teen) Beelzebub assigns a sleep paralysis job to Crowley. Unfortunately, the victim they have chosen does not sleep, is an angel, and could not be less scared of a demon he’s known for 6000 years.

Second chances and second choices by Melquiadesdecarabas42 (25k, Teen) After the (failed) second coming, Crowley and Aziraphale have to face the biggest fear of all: talk to each other.

Snitten by Rowyndodendron (6k, Teen) A cat starts hanging out outside Crowley’s London flat, he takes a bit of an interest in. But he doesn’t care about it. Absolutely not. (spoiler: he does).

soon you’ll grow so take a chance with a couple of kooks (hung up on romancing) by mygalfriday (BrinneyFriday) (20k, Teen) The image of Aziraphale — his bowtie undone and his coat long abandoned, his shirtsleeves rolled up to his elbows — with a newborn tucked snugly in the crook of his arm like some sort of angelic nanny will stay with Crowley long after this world is nothing but a smoking crater.

sweetie by PaintedVanilla (3k, Teen) She’s a cream colored cat, short haired and small in size with a pink nose and curious eyes. She follows Crowley everywhere he goes.

Talk about the weather by nightbloomingcereus (81k, Mature) Television meteorologist Aziraphale Fell and Youtube storm chaser A. J. Crowley have nothing in common aside from a purely professional interest in the weather and a mutually beneficial arrangement to lend a hand when needed.

That’s not what I asked by black_earth (1k, Teen) Aziraphale had to will himself to relax the grip on his glass. Crowley found his words and shot them out: “If I were to kiss you right now, would you let me?”

the aftershocks of immortality (and how to stay human despite it all) by Kierkegarden (4k, Teen) Crowley nudged him with his pipe hand. “Fancy a smoke?” or 5 times Aziraphale gave in to temptation + the 1 time that it stuck.

the burden of knowing by black_earth (2k, Teen) “Crowley was fixated on Aziraphale eating. It was intense, it was honestly slightly terrifying but it also made him giddy with manic excitement. The rules had been broken, the edges blurred, the natural order upended and tomorrow was not here yet.

The Fine Print by curtaincall (42k, Teen) Anthony Crowley sells computer systems to London businesses–and specializes in sneaking extra charges and fees into the associated contracts....He thinks mild-mannered bookshop owner Aziraphale Fell will be an easy mark...then Aziraphale comes back with some very polite, very pointed questions – and Crowley decides that maybe pulling off the sale isn’t his first priority anymore

the shame of wanting by black_earth (2k, Mature) A character study on Aziraphale trying to navigate the awakening of his bodily appetites and how they fit in with his angelhood.

The Truth Remains by WanderingAlice (200k, Mature) Raphael had been the third angel ever created, and he’d raised himself first with Michael’s clumsy help. Then he’d turned around and raised three more siblings, and loved them all so fiercely it hurt. He’d loved Aziraphale too, more than either of them really knew. And then, he fell. He lost everything.

They Drink Tea at the End by knifeforkspooncup (3k, Teen) After 6000 years in the spinning hubbub of earth, Heaven had been overwhelmingly sparse. So bright it stung, so empty it echoed, so utterly quiet the silence howled in your ears and never seemed to stop.

Time Marches Forward by Bellisima_writes (128k, Mature)Our story follows Aziraphale as he toils alone in Heaven to thwart the Second Coming while Crowley, back on Earth, encounters a powerful and frightened 15-year-old Adam Young in desperate need of guidance.

What About Hope? by AppleSeeds (27k, Mature) Crowley met Aziraphale in the spring of 1989 while he was on his lunchbreak from the factory, his attention immediately drawn to the posh boy sitting by the canal writing poetry...Twenty years later, they are reunited when Crowley, now a successful writer and vlogger, comes to work as an Associate Lecturer in the university department where Aziraphale is an academic.

you should’ve come over (please never leave) by mackanthology (3k,Teen) They’d sat on opposite sides of the table, but as the night wore on they’d found themselves facing each other. Trying to laugh it off, talk of anything else. Without acknowledging it, but both knowing it’s happening, they sought solace in each other.

You’re Just a Little Under Rehearsed by MickyRC (53k, Teen) Drama teacher Crowley loves directing the Tadfield Community Players’ shows—interacting with the rest of the staff at the community center, not so much. So when he meets the new accompanist for this year’s musical, he’s shocked to find that he might actually like him. Possibly more than like, if he’s being honest.

you’re not a religious person (but) by isozyme (19k, Mature) An account pertaining to the cultivation of figs, the ecstasy of St. Theresa of Avila, the ontological uncertainty of mammoths, the nature of temptation, 2001: A Space Odyssey, and the ten years following the end of the world.

You’ve Got Mail by SouthDrarryReturned (68k, Teen) Aziraphale and Crowley are hereditary enemies, rival book shop owners engaged in corporate warfare. They are also pen pals that are perfect for one another. They don’t know about that bit though.

[Explicit A-L collection] [Explicit M-Z collection]

[butterfly-lies-chase-them-away]

Office Hours/Bells - Jonathan Crane x Fem!Reader (Part 6)

Pairing: Professor!Jonathan Crane x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 10,676

Warnings: Obsessive behaviour, Professor x Student, manipulation, violence, kidnapping

Summary: Jonathan's been working so hard lately, with his work as Scarecrow, as a professor, and Y/n's protector.

A/N: holy fucking shit, has it been a hot minute, but here we are! Did not mean for this to take ages but it's me, so what can you really expect, lol. Here it is, hope you enjoy :) 💚

(Office Hours/Bells Masterlist)

(Part 5) - (Part 7)

-

Y/n could see the strain Jonathan was under lately. Between his responsibilities at Arkham, his role as a professor, and the added weight of keeping her safe, the stress was etched into every line of his face. He worked tirelessly, his days blending into nights without rest. Despite his guarded demeanour, Y/n noticed the exhaustion in his eyes and the tension in his movements.

The knowledge made her ache to find a way to ease his burden, even if it was something small. She couldn’t shake the feeling that he was carrying everything alone, bottling up his worries and pushing himself to the brink for her.

She had already baked him a batch of cookies, which he devoured immediately without much thought. To Jonathan, food was just fuel, even when loaded with chocolate and sugar. Y/n knew her gesture barely scratched the surface, the sweet distraction was a temporary relief at best. What she really wanted was to see him unwind, to take even a moment to breathe without the weight of his world bearing down on him. But there was only so much she could do.

Settling on the couch, she watched him across the room, his back hunched over his desk, his head down, completely absorbed in his work. She could see the movement of his arm as he scribbled, his notes likely filled with complicated chemical equations.

Chemistry was never Y/n’s strong suit, she was more of a biology girl herself, so looking at his notes meant nothing to her, so she couldn’t even help with that. Every now and then, he’d pause, lean back slightly, then dive right back into his notes.

Despite the shadows under his eyes, despite the furrow in his brow that spoke to his stress, Y/n couldn’t help but admire him. She found something endearing in the way he wore his lab coat, as if it were his armor. He insisted on keeping it on even here, in the quiet of their hideout. It clung to his frame, the stark white making him look both distinguished and a little odd.

It was moments like these, watching him so intensely focused and wholly himself, that reminded her why she cared for him so deeply.

Y/n stood up from her spot on the couch, moving quietly to the small dining table. She pulled a chair closer to Jonathan’s desk, positioning it beside his chair, facing him. Sitting down, she folded her leg up, resting her chin on her knee as she watched him in quiet admiration.

Jonathan gave her a brief glance, his eyes meeting hers for a split second over the rim of his glasses. "Yes, my dear?" he asked, his voice steady but softened with curiosity.

Y/n only smiled, her gaze steady. "Just watching," she replied simply.

He shook his head, before he returned to his work. "You’d be more entertained in front of the television," he said, pushing aside the page he’d just filled with scrawled notes and diagrams.

"I don’t think so.." Y/n said softly, her eyes lingering on him, tracing the determined set of his jaw, the way his hand moved with swift precision.

As she looked at him, she noticed a stray strand of hair that had fallen from his otherwise neat hair, sitting stubbornly over the edge of his glasses. She briefly considered suggesting a headband or hair clip but decided against it, knowing he'd likely scoff at the idea. Instead, she enjoyed the subtle imperfections, the hard look of concentration on his face that only seemed to amplify her attraction to him.

Sitting there, observing him up close, she felt a warmth, a mixture of admiration and something deeper. She could see the tension etched into his features, the weight of his responsibilities evident in the furrow of his brow. And yet, in his unrelenting focus, there was a certain charm, a captivating intensity she couldn't look away from.

Scooting her chair even closer, Y/n leaned into him, resting her chin gently on his shoulder. She felt his shoulder shift slightly under her, but he didn’t pull away. Slowly, she lifted her hand, letting her fingers trace softly along the back of his neck before she began running her nails gently through his hair at the nape.

A small, subtle shudder ran through him as her fingers traced delicate patterns on his scalp. His hand, steady moments before, faltered mid-scribble, leaving a faint, unintended mark on the page. She could sense his body caught between the usual tension he carried and a reluctant relaxation. The way his shoulders rose and fell, slightly stiff at first but slowly melting under her touch, told her he was trying to ignore how much he enjoyed her affection.

She continued, her fingers moving in slow, soothing circles, occasionally grazing the sensitive skin at his neck. She could feel his pulse quicken slightly beneath her touch. Smiling to herself, she knew he’d never admit how much he liked it, how much he needed this quiet, grounding moment.

After a beat, he let out a quiet sigh, barely a breath, but she caught it. She pressed a gentle kiss to his shoulder, whispering, “Why don’t you take a break.”

Jonathan stayed silent, but the slight tilt of his head, letting her fingers linger in his hair, was all the answer she needed.

Y/n straightened up, her fingers curling around the pencil as she gently pried it from Jonathan’s hand, setting it aside on the table. Without breaking eye contact, she clasped his hands in hers, giving him a gentle tug. "Come on, Jonathan," she coaxed, urging him to stand.

“Y/n, can’t we just stay here?” he protested, voice tinged with both reluctance and a trace of amusement as he resisted her pull. He didn't make it easy for her, keeping himself firmly rooted to the chair.

She shot him a determined look. “You’re supposed to relax, Jonathan, away from your work!” she insisted, her voice light but firm.

Jonathan’s eyes narrowed with that familiar glint of challenge. “Since when did you start calling the shots?” His voice dropped, carrying a low, teasing authority that dared her to press further.

Before Y/n could respond, Jonathan surprised her by pulling her back down, guiding her onto his lap as he settled back into his chair. She felt her cheeks flush as she found herself perched atop him, her legs straddling his and her hands instinctively bracing on his shoulders for balance.

He leaned back, one arm curling around her waist while his other hand came to rest on her thigh, a subtle smirk playing on his lips. “So, this is your idea of helping me relax?” he murmured, his gaze tracing her features, the playfulness in his eyes hinting at something deeper.

Y/n smiled, letting her hands rest on his shoulders as she matched his gaze. “If I have to hold you hostage on this chair to get you to unwind, I’m not above it,” she replied, her voice soft yet resolute. She let her fingers trail along his shoulders, pressing just enough to soothe the tension she knew was there.

Jonathan’s expression softened just a bit, his usual guarded nature slipping as he allowed himself a rare moment of vulnerability. The edges of his lips curved up almost imperceptibly. “Alright,” he conceded, his voice quiet and thoughtful, “I’ll allow it...for now.”

Y/n smiled softly, leaning in until her lips met his, brushing against him with a tender warmth. Jonathan didn’t hesitate, his hand coming up to cradle the back of her neck as he deepened the kiss, his touch both assured and surprisingly gentle. His other hand slid down to her thigh, his fingers tightening as he gave her a gentle squeeze, pulling her just a little closer.

She melted into him, feeling the tension in his shoulders finally begin to ease as he allowed himself to indulge in the moment. Their breaths mingled, and for just that instant, it was as though the worries and pressures that constantly weighed on him faded away, leaving only the quiet intensity of their connection.

As Y/n pulled back slightly, her forehead resting against his, she whispered, “You need to relax more often..” Her fingers traced along his jaw, grounding him as much as herself in the closeness they shared.

Jonathan let out a quiet sigh, his eyes meeting hers with a softened, appreciative gaze. "With you, I think I just might have to," he murmured, his thumb brushing gently over her thigh.

Jonathan’s fingers slipped beneath the waistband of Y/n’s pajama shorts, the tips brushing against her skin in a teasingly slow gesture. He tugged them down just slightly, his gaze locked on hers, reading her expression as if savoring every second. Y/n responded with a quiet, encouraging nod, lifting her hips to give him better access. She felt a shiver run through her as he took his time, sliding the fabric down her thighs with a mixture of care and intention.

With each inch he revealed, his touch seemed to grow more deliberate, as if he wanted to memorize every curve and detail. Her breath caught in her throat as he trailed his hands down her legs, letting her shorts and underwear pool at her knees before pulling her closer to him to help slide them off.

Jonathan’s eyes traveled back up, lingering on her with a look that was both adoring and possessive. She felt his hand glide back up along her thigh, gentle but firm, as he leaned forward, pressing a kiss to her jaw.

“Beautiful,” he murmured, his voice low and almost reverent, sending a spark through her. Y/n could feel his warmth, his focus entirely on her, as if she were the only thing that mattered in the world.

Jonathan’s long fingers drifted between her thighs, exploring with a slow, deliberate touch. His fingertips traced along her warmth, feeling the slickness gathering there as he gently circled her entrance, letting her arousal coat his fingers.

Y/n’s breath hitched at the touch, a shiver rippling up her spine as he teased her, drawing soft, unsteady gasps from her lips. Each sound seemed to spur him on, the tension between them building with every movement.

Listening to her quickening breaths, Jonathan slipped a finger inside her, his touch firm yet gentle. Y/n's head fell back, a moan escaping her as her body responded instinctively, arching into him.

His lips found her neck, pressing soft, lingering kisses against her skin, before he began to suckle, drawing a flush of warmth to the surface. She felt his hot breath against her pulse, his mouth exploring slowly as his finger moved within her, expertly building her pleasure with unhurried intensity.

Another finger joined the first, stretching and filling her, while his thumb brushed her clit in gentle, tantalizing circles. The combination sent waves of pleasure radiating through her, her body clinging to his touch as her gasps grew louder.

His lips traveled up to her ear, his voice a low, tantalizing murmur, “You’re absolutely intoxicating,” he whispered, his breath hot against her skin, his movements unrelenting yet tender, holding her in a rhythm that pulled her deeper into his embrace.

Jonathan slowly withdrew his fingers, leaving Y/n’s body with an aching emptiness that made her release a soft, involuntary sigh. Her chest rose and fell with need, her gaze heavy-lidded and fixed on him. A faint smirk tugged at his lips as he took in her reaction, clearly savoring the effect he had on her.

"So impatient," he murmured, a hint of amusement lacing his words.

His eyes glinted with something darker as he deftly unfastened his trousers. His fingers moved with unhurried precision, peeling away the fabric as he held her gaze, every motion a promise of what was to come.

Y/n’s breath quickened as he positioned himself, his intense gaze holding hers captive. He took his time, savoring the anticipation that hung thick between them, letting her feel every second of the build-up. She could feel her heart pounding, each beat echoing in her ears as her body pulsed with anticipation. Jonathan's hand trailed up her thigh, steadying her, his touch both commanding and tender as he prepared to close the space between them, pulling her closer with a deep, simmering intent.

Jonathan released his member from his pants, his cock pressing hot and firm as he aligned himself at her entrance. His hands gripped her hips with a possessive hold as he held her steady, drawing her closer with each subtle shift. The heat between them intensified, a magnetic pull, as he hovered at her entrance, making her feel every inch of the anticipation.

He paused for a brief moment, eyes locked with hers, the air thick with tension. With a soft exhale, Jonathan leaned in, brushing his lips over her collarbone as he pushed in, allowing her to adjust, savoring the way her body responded to him. The closeness, the weight of him against her, filled every nerve in Y/n’s body with electricity, sending a delicious shiver up her spine as they connected fully, leaving no distance between them.

As Y/n lowered herself onto him, a contented hum escaped her lips, sending a shiver through Jonathan. His hands instinctively gripped her hips, fingers pressing into her skin as he steadied her, his breath hitching at the warmth enveloping him. Their eyes met, and for a moment, time felt suspended in the quiet intensity of their gaze.

With her knees settled on either side of him, Y/n began to move, slowly at first, a gentle rhythm that built as she grew more comfortable, feeling his gaze follow every rise and fall. Her movements became more confident, her pace quickening, each shift causing a delicious friction that sent waves of heat through both of them. The sound of their shared breaths filled the room, mingling with soft gasps and murmurs, creating a symphony of intimacy and connection.

Jonathan’s hands slid up her waist, guiding her movements as his grip tightened in response to the pleasure sparking between them. He traced a line up her back, his fingers brushing over her skin, leaving a trail of warmth. Y/n tilted her head back, eyes closed as she lost herself in the sensations, feeling completely wrapped up in him, her own hands moving to rest against his chest, feeling the rapid beat of his heart beneath her palms.

Each motion, each shared look and soft touch, brought them closer, a shared rhythm and unspoken language that spoke of desire, trust, and a deep, unbreakable connection between them.

As much as Jonathan relished the view of Y/n moving above him, his desire to take control grew overwhelming. With a sudden, determined motion, he gripped her waist firmly, hoisting her up and setting her down on the edge of his workbench. Y/n let out a surprised squeal, her hands instinctively bracing against the table’s cool surface as her legs wrapped around him to steady herself.

Never pulling out, Jonathan pressed closer, eyes dark with intent as he leaned forward, his lips hovering near her ear. "Can’t have you calling all the shots now, can I?" he murmured, his voice a low, husky growl.

Without missing a beat, he drove into her, the intensity of his thrusts sending waves of pleasure through her. Her back arched against the hard surface, fingers gripping the edge of the workbench as she let out a breathy moan, her body meeting his movements with fervor. Each thrust was more commanding than the last, a testament to his need to seize control, to make her feel everything he wanted her to.

Jonathan’s hands traveled up her sides, possessive yet tender, anchoring her as he set a steady, relentless rhythm that echoed the pounding of their hearts. With each stroke, he was drawing her deeper into his world, ensuring that in this moment, she was entirely his, until she could think of nothing else but the feeling of him.

Jonathan's pace grew steadily more insistent, his breaths mingling with hers as the intensity of their movements built between them. His hands slid from her sides up to her back, pulling her flush against him, eliminating any remaining space as he wrapped her in his hold. The workbench creaked beneath them, but neither paid it any mind, too wrapped up in the warmth and fervor of each other.

Y/n's head fell back, her hands gripping his shoulders as he continued, each movement sending waves of heat coursing through her. She clung to him, her moans breaking with each gasp as he held her close, his focus unwavering. Jonathan’s gaze was sharp, studying every expression that crossed her face as if committing them to memory.

Leaning in, his lips brushed over her collarbone, trailing up her neck and finally finding the corner of her mouth, catching her moans before they even had a chance to fill the air.

“You’re all mine,” he murmured, the words spilling out in a possessive whisper, his voice rough with desire.

With one hand still pressed firmly to her back, the other moved down to grip her thigh, pulling her leg higher around his waist, allowing him to sink deeper with each thrust.

The sensation sent a shiver through her, and her nails dug into his shoulders, grounding herself in the intensity of it all. She felt her heart pounding wildly, matching the fervent rhythm he’d set, a rhythm that threatened to consume them both.

“Jonathan…” she managed to breathe out, her voice almost a plea.

His only answer was a heated kiss, claiming her mouth with a ferocity that left her dizzy, until they were nothing but a tangle of need and warmth, utterly lost in each other.

Jonathan's thrusts became erratic, each one more desperate than the last, as he held Y/n against him with an unyielding grip. The heat between them had built to an almost unbearable level, their bodies moving in perfect sync as they neared the edge together.

Y/n’s breath hitched, her nails dragging down his back as waves of pleasure began to surge through her. “Jonathan…I’m close,” she whispered shakily, her voice a mixture of desperation and ecstasy.

Her words seemed to drive him further, his pace quickening as he buried his face in her neck, his warm breath fanning against her skin. “Come for me,” he rasped, his voice low and commanding, sending a shiver down her spine.

With one final, deep thrust, Y/n cried out, her body tensing and trembling against his as she tipped over the edge. Pleasure surged through her in waves, her vision momentarily blurring as the world around her melted away.

Jonathan wasn’t far behind. The feel of her tightening around him, the sound of her cries, and the way her body shook in his arms were enough to send him spiraling. He groaned against her neck, his grip on her tightening as he found his release, his body shuddering in unison with hers.

They remained locked together for a moment, their heavy breaths mingling as they clung to each other. Jonathan finally lifted his head, his forehead resting against hers, his expression softened and sated. A rare, almost tender smile crossed his lips as he brushed a strand of hair from her damp face.

Y/n laughed breathlessly, leaning into his touch. “Feeling better, Doctor.”

“Much, my dear, thank you,” he said, his voice low and affectionate, a stark contrast to the usual sharpness in his tone.

Y/n laughed breathlessly, leaning into his touch. “I could say the same about you, Doctor.”

Jonathan huffed softly, pressing a gentle kiss to her lips before pulling her closer, savoring the quiet aftermath of their shared intensity.

Jonathan sighed, resting his forehead against Y/n’s for a moment longer before straightening up, the softness in his gaze quickly replaced by his usual sharp focus.

“As much as I’d like to keep you here all night, I have to get back to work,” he murmured firmly.

Y/n groaned dramatically, her head falling back as she rolled her eyes. “Seriously? You just took my ability to walk, and now you’re ditching me for a stack of papers?”

Jonathan rolled his eyes, his hands gently sliding down her sides as he pulled away. “Science waits for no one, my dear. Not even you.”

“Ugh,” Y/n huffed, crossing her arms as she sat on the edge of the workbench. “You’re impossible, you know that?”

“And you’re distracting,” Jonathan replied, his tone hardly teasing as he adjusted his trousers and fixed his shirt.

He leaned in, pressing a quick kiss to her forehead before stepping back. “Go clean up and get some rest. I’ll join you when I can.”

Y/n watched him for a moment, her lips pursed in frustration. She knew he was right, this was just who Jonathan was. Still, it didn’t make it any less annoying. “Fine,” she grumbled, sliding off the workbench and retrieving her clothes. “But if you don’t come to bed at a reasonable hour, I’ll…be pissed.”

“Noted,” Jonathan said, already turning back to his notes.

Y/n headed to the bathroom, muttering under her breath about mad scientists and their lack of priorities. She cleaned herself up quickly, her cheeks still warm from their earlier passion, before slipping into a comfortable set of pajamas.

As she climbed into bed, the room felt oddly quiet without Jonathan by her side. She turned onto her side, clutching a pillow and staring at the empty space next to her. Despite her frustration, she couldn’t help but smile softly, thinking about how stubborn he could be when it came to his work.

“Goodnight, you workaholic!” she yelled out to him below before closing her eyes, letting sleep slowly take her as the faint scratching of Jonathan’s pen filled the distant background.

-

Y/n stirred awake, her face buried in the soft pillow that still held Jonathan's faint scent. Stretching, she slowly opened her eyes, only to freeze in pleasant surprise.

There he was. Jonathan Crane, the workaholic, the man who rarely allowed himself the luxury of sleep, lying peacefully beside her. His chest rose and fell in a steady rhythm, his face soft and serene in the dim morning light. Y/n couldn’t remember the last time she’d seen him asleep, it felt like an eternity ago.

A small, content smile crept onto her lips. She resisted the urge to reach out and brush the stray strands of hair from his forehead, afraid to disturb this rare, quiet moment. He looked so different like this, unguarded and almost boyish. For a brief second, Y/n entertained the idea of staying in bed just to admire him a little longer.

But curiosity got the better of her.

Sliding out from under the covers as quietly as she could, Y/n tiptoed out of the bedroom. Her bare feet padded down the stairs, her destination clear in her mind. Jonathan's work desk.

The same desk where he'd been tirelessly scribbling the night before.

Once she reached it, she settled into the chair and began sorting through the scattered pages. Most of it was the usual chemistry formulas and toxin prototypes. She frowned at one of the pages labeled FT - Variant 6, likely meaning fear toxin. The detailed notes described a formula designed to trigger hallucinations of one’s deepest fears in mere seconds.

"Ugh, of course," Y/n muttered to herself, shaking her head. She loved Jonathan, but his obsession with his fear toxins was something she didn’t care for. She quickly shuffled the page aside, uninterested in his chemical warfare.

But then she spotted something different.

A map.

Leaning closer, her eyes widened as she took in the carefully marked routes and notes scrawled in Jonathan’s neat handwriting. The title at the top read Waylon’s Extraction Plan.

Her heart skipped a beat.

Jonathan had a plan to help Killer Croc escape Arkham.

Excitement bubbled up in her chest as she scanned the page. The routes were detailed, accounting for guard rotations, security blind spots, and emergency backups. It was genius, of course it was.

“He’s really going to do it,” Y/n whispered, grinning.

She could already imagine the chaos this plan would bring, the ripple effects of freeing someone like Waylon Jones. But more than that, the thought of seeing Killer Croc out of that dreadful institution made her heart race. Jonathan was actually going to help him, and she couldn’t wait to see it happen.

Folding the page carefully, Y/n placed it back where she found it, not wanting to disturb anything. Her excitement burned brightly in her chest as she quietly crept back upstairs. Jonathan was still sound asleep, and for once, Y/n felt truly content with his plans.

Settling into bed beside him again, she smiled to herself. Atleast he listened to me.

-

The office was quiet except for the soft scratching of Jonathan’s pen against paper and the occasional rustle of Y/n shifting in her chair. The room smelled faintly of old books and leather, remnants of Jonathan’s ever-present work.

Y/n lounged comfortably in one of the worn armchairs near the corner, her legs draped over the armrest. She absentmindedly flicked through a book she had picked up from the coffee table, though her eyes barely registered the words. Her attention kept wandering back to Jonathan, hunched over his desk with his usual intensity.

The overhead light cast a warm glow over the office, illuminating the stacks of papers, and open books. Even in his university office, he carried on doing her devious work.

“You really need to get a cleaner in here,” Y/n teased, her voice cutting through the silence.

She gestured to the clutter around the room. “One wrong move and this whole place will come down like a house of cards.”

Jonathan didn’t look up. “And risk someone tampering with my research? Hardly.”

Y/n snorted, tossing the magazine onto the coffee table. “Your research. You mean your elaborate fear toxins and terrifying lesson plans?”

“Precisely,” he quipped, his tone dry.

Pushing herself upright, Y/n swung her legs over the chair and propped her chin on her hand, watching him work. His concentration was unwavering, his pen gliding across the page with precision. She admired how dedicated he was, even if his obsession with his work sometimes made her want to shake him.

“Do you ever take a break, Dr. Crane?” she asked, her voice light but laced with genuine curiosity.

He finally paused, setting his pen down and turning in his chair to face her. “I take breaks,” he replied, his tone matter-of-fact.

Y/n arched an eyebrow, crossing her arms. “Oh? Name one.”

Jonathan leaned back slightly, his gaze narrowing thoughtfully. “Last month. The gala. We went together.”

“That doesn’t count,” Y/n said with a laugh. “You spent half the night networking and the other half analyzing the psychological profiles of the guests.”

Jonathan shrugged, “It was entertaining.”

“For you,” Y/n shot back, shaking her head.

Jonathan turned back to his work. Y/n leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees. “You know, I wouldn’t complain if you spent just one afternoon not plotting someone’s nightmare or grading boring papers.”

“Boring papers keep the university happy. And plotting nightmares…” He trailed off, glancing at her from the corner of his eye. “Well, that keeps me happy.”

Y/n rolled her eyes, though she couldn’t help but smile. “You’re impossible, you know that?”

“Of course,” he replied smoothly, returning to his notes.

Y/n leaned back in her chair again, watching him quietly for a moment. Despite his stubbornness, she couldn’t help but admire him still, the precision in his work, the way his mind was always racing. Even if she’d never understand his obsession with fear toxins, she respected the brilliance behind it.

Eventually, the comfortable silence returned, and Y/n resumed her lounging, content to simply share the space with him while he worked.

Y/n stretched her arms above her head, glancing at the clock on Jonathan’s desk. The minutes seemed to crawl by in his office, especially during his supposed office hours. She tilted her head, smirking as she observed the completely empty space around them, aside from the two of them, of course.

“Jonathan,” she began, breaking the silence, “why do you even bother having three-hour-long office hours when literally no one ever shows up?”

Jonathan didn’t even look up from his papers, his pen continuing its steady rhythm. “Perhaps, one day, one of those idiots will come to their senses and realize I’m an important source of knowledge.”

Y/n snorted, leaning back in her chair. “Oh, please. They’re more likely to go to a tutor’s office hours before coming to you.”

Jonathan paused, finally glancing up with an arched brow. “And why is that?”

“Because,” Y/n said with a teasing grin, “most students prefer their help served with a side of approachability, as I’ve said before. You, on the other hand…do I need to finish that sentence?”

Jonathan cocked and eyebrow. “Watch it, girl.”

Y/n shrugged, unbothered. “Uh huh..”

Jonathan shook his head, turning back to his work with an amused huff, while Y/n chuckled to herself, feeling victorious.

"Remember," Jonathan started, his tone measured as his pen paused mid-stroke on the paper, "I helped you when you came to me the first time."

"Yeah," Y/n replied, her voice laced with dry humor as she lounged across the small couch in his office, "then you drugged me and kidnapped me. Truly, a tale of chivalry."

Jonathan's hand stilled completely, his sharp blue eyes flicking toward her. "That’s how you choose to frame it?"

"Well, it’s not exactly the stuff of fairy tales, is it?" Y/n shot back.

It wasn’t a topic that came up often between them, mostly because neither of them really knew how to approach it. She wasn’t exactly bitter about it, she’d made her peace with the bizarre start to their unconventional relationship. Jonathan, for his part, wasn’t one to apologize for the choices he made, but he had stopped attempting to justify his methods to her long ago.

He leaned back in his chair, steepling his fingers as he watched her. "You’re still here, aren’t you?"

"Yeah, yeah," she waved a hand dismissively, "I’m not holding a grudge. Just pointing out how helpful you were." Her tone was light, but her eyes glimmered with playful challenge.

Jonathan’s lips curved into a sly smile. "If I recall, you weren’t particularly hard to convince to stay."

"Maybe I just didn’t want to risk getting drugged again," Y/n quipped, sitting up straighter.

He let out a soft chuckle, shaking his head. "You’ve got a way of making everything sound so dramatic."

"And you’ve got a way of making everything actually dramatic," she countered.

Jonathan hummed thoughtfully, returning his gaze to the paper in front of him. "Well, you’re still alive, and arguably better off. I’d say my methods worked."

Y/n rolled her eyes but couldn’t entirely suppress her grin. "Sure, let’s go with that. Real knight in shining armor vibes, Jonathan."

"I prefer 'strategic pragmatist,’" he corrected smoothly, his tone dripping with mock seriousness.

Y/n laughed, leaning back into the couch. "Whatever you say, Professor."

Y/n stood and stretched, the faint creak of the chair beneath her. Jonathan glanced up from his papers, his brow furrowing slightly. "Where are you going?"

"Relax, Professor Crane," Y/n said teasingly. "Just grabbing an energy drink from the vending machine."

Jonathan's frown deepened. "Those things are terrible for you.”

She paused, throwing him a mischievous look over her shoulder. "So are you, and yet here we are."

His lips twitched with the ghost of a smirk, but he said nothing more as Y/n slipped out of the office.

The hallway was quiet, the hum of fluorescent lights filling the empty space as Y/n approached the vending machine. Fishing a few coins from her pocket, she punched in the numbers for her go-to drink. The machine whirred, and she waited for the can to clatter into the deposit tray.

As she stood there, a prickling sensation crept up her spine, the unmistakable feeling of being watched. Her eyes flicked up cautiously, scanning the corridor.

Her gaze landed on a figure leaning against the wall further down the hall, almost in the shadows. They were too far to make out details, but they were clearly looking in her direction, or at least it seemed that way. Y/n stiffened but quickly shook herself.

This is a university, Y/n, she thought firmly. It’s broad daylight, and you're literally in Jonathan's building. Don’t be ridiculous.

Still, she couldn’t entirely shake the unease, but she refused to let it get the better of her. She grabbed her drink from the machine with a quick motion and turned to head back to Jonathan’s office.

As she walked, she tried to play it cool, not glancing back even though every nerve in her body urged her to. "You’re not some damsel in distress," she muttered under her breath.

By the time she pushed open the door to his office, her expression was neutral, maybe even a little brighter than before.

Jonathan looked up from his work, giving her a brief once-over. "You were gone long enough to consider your life choices."

"Yeah, yeah," Y/n replied breezily, plopping back onto the chair and cracking open the drink. She took a sip, forcing herself to relax as if nothing had happened.

Jonathan raised an eyebrow at her unusually chipper demeanor but said nothing, returning to his notes. Meanwhile, Y/n kept her face calm and her thoughts buried, determined not to let her earlier discomfort show.

-

The clock on Jonathan’s office wall ticked softly in the quiet room, its hands marking the end of office hours two hours ago. Despite this, Y/n lingered, lounging on the worn couch with her legs stretched out, scrolling absentmindedly on her phone. Jonathan sat at his desk, hunched over his computer, the glow of the screen illuminating the sharp lines of his face.

When Jonathan finally pushed back his chair and stood, Y/n perked up.

“Done?” she asked, hopping up and stretching, a playful smile on her lips.

“Half,” Jonathan muttered, his tone laced with exhaustion.

Y/n’s smile softened as she took in his tired features. It had been a grueling day for him, office hours, meetings, endless paperwork, and he’d have to do it all again tomorrow. She admired his resilience but wished he didn’t push himself so hard.

The two exited his office, their footsteps echoing down the empty halls of the university. The campus was eerily quiet, with most lectures having ended hours ago. Only a few stragglers remained, students huddled in study groups or waiting for late tutorials.

As they approached the staff carpark, Y/n noticed the distinct lack of working cameras in the area, something Jonathan had assured her was an advantage for them. They didn’t have to worry about being seen together, which was always a concern given his position.

Jonathan unlocked the car, and they slid into their seats. Just as Y/n was buckling her seatbelt, Jonathan cused loudly.

“What’s wrong?” Y/n asked, glancing at him.

“I left a file in my office,” he said, his voice tense with frustration.

“Do you need it now?” she asked, tilting her head.

“Yes,” he growled, clearly annoyed with himself.

“Alright, I’ll wait here,” Y/n said with a shrug, leaning back in her seat.

Jonathan hesitated, his furrowed brows and thinly pressed lips betraying his irritation. He let out another low curse before slamming the car door shut and striding back toward the building. Y/n watched him go, the tails of his coat fluttering behind him.

Left alone, she sighed and shifted in her seat, glancing around the dimly lit carpark. The quietness of the campus was unsettling, but she brushed it off, chalking it up to the late hour.

Y/n drummed her fingers idly against her lap, her gaze drifting out the car window. There wasn’t much to look at outside, but there wasn’t much else to focus on. She sighed, shifting in her seat.

Her phone buzzed suddenly in her pocket, pulling her from her thoughts. She pulled it out and glanced at the screen.

It was a message from Jonathan, asking for a hand back in his office.

Y/n let out a small huff, shaking her head with an amused smile. “Bloody idiot,” she muttered under her breath.

She had no idea what he could possibly need help with, but knowing him, it was likely something trivial that he didn’t want to admit struggling with.

Sliding out of the car, she locked it with the key Jonathan had left her and started toward the university building. The faint sound of her boots against the pavement was the only noise cutting through the stillness of the night.

Halfway to the entrance, her phone buzzed again, this time with a call. Glancing at the screen, she frowned slightly, recognizing the number immediately.

Pressing the answer button, she brought the phone to her ear. “Haven’t heard from you in a while, Eddie,” she greeted casually, her tone light despite the lateness of the hour.

“Y/n,” Edward’s voice was sharp and urgent on the other end, cutting through the calm she’d been trying to maintain. “Get back in the car. Now.”

Y/n slowed her steps, her brows furrowing. “What are you talking about?” she asked, confusion lacing her tone. How did Edward even know where she was?

“That wasn’t Jonathan,” he interrupted firmly, his voice dropping into something darker, more desperate.

Her heart stopped, the blood in her veins turning ice cold.

“What do you mean it wasn’t-”

“Go!” Edward barked, his urgency snapping her out of her shock.

Y/n spun on her heel, panic surging through her veins as she darted back toward the car. She barely made it a few steps before colliding with a man blocking her path. A startled noise escaped her lips as she stumbled back, turning to flee in the opposite direction, only to find herself face-to-face with another man.

Her breath hitched, the air caught in her throat as dread settled like a weight in her chest. Edward’s voice was still shouting frantically through the phone, but she couldn’t focus on his words. Her hands trembled as she fumbled in her pocket, her only lifeline flashing through her mind.

Jonathan’s canister.

Without hesitation, Y/n whipped it out, her fingers finding the trigger as she aimed it at the men. A sharp hiss filled the air as the fear gas spewed forth, engulfing their faces. Both men recoiled instantly, their screams tearing through the night as they clawed at their eyes, their terror palpable.

For a fleeting moment, Y/n thought she had a chance. Her heart surged with hope as she darted toward freedom, only to halt abruptly when more figures emerged from the shadows.

These men were different. Each wore a crude, almost comical penguin mask, but there was nothing funny about the way they moved with precision, their intentions clear.

“Shit,” Y/n whispered, her voice barely audible over the pounding of her heart.

Desperately, she sprayed the gas at the new arrivals, but it had little effect. Their masks, though laughable, must have been equipped with filters, rendering her weapon useless.

“Fuck!”

Before she could think of another escape, rough hands grabbed her arms, yanking the canister from her grasp.

She struggled against their grip, her mind racing for a plan, but the odds were against her. The last thing she saw before she was dragged into the shadows was the faint glint of the moonlight on the cracked pavement.

She was so fucked.

Y/n thrashed desperately in their iron grip, but the men were well-prepared. One of them swiftly gagged her, silencing her muffled cries, while another pulled a bag over her head. She kicked and squirmed, her heart racing, but they bound her hands and feet with practiced efficiency, rendering her helpless.

These guys were no amateurs.

Tears streamed down her face, dampening the inside of the suffocating bag as fear and frustration welled up within her. Her captors carried her like she weighed nothing, their movements calculated and cold.

She barely registered the thud of her body being thrown into the back of a vehicle, the cold metal floor jarring against her as the van’s doors slammed shut. The engine roared to life, and she felt the lurch as it sped out of the car park, jostling her roughly with each turn.

Her mind raced with a torrent of emotions, panic, anger, helplessness.

She was so utterly, completely fucked.

All she could think about was Jonathan.

Jonathan, where are you?

She had no sense of time. The entire ride was a blur of muffled sobs, desperate thrashing, and exhaustion. At some point, Y/n’s hysterical episode stop, leaving her utterly drained. By the time the van screeched to a halt, she was limp, lying motionless in the back like a discarded doll.

The van doors groaned open, and cold air rushed in, sending a chill over her skin. She felt rough hands grabbing her, pulling her out like luggage. Her feet barely skimmed the ground as she was dragged through what sounded like a large, echoing space. She tried to steady her breathing, but panic buzzed just beneath the surface.

A hard wooden chair met her body, and she winced as they tied her to it, ropes biting into her wrists and ankles. The restraints were unforgiving, chafing against her skin.

That’s when she heard it, the sharp click of a door opening and the staccato rhythm of hurried footsteps.

“Ahh, has our guest arrived?” a voice asked, oily and nasally, dripping with sophistication.

It wasn’t a voice she recognized.

The footsteps stopped abruptly. “Did you bag her like some common animal?” the voice continued, now laced with surprise and fury.

“Well…uh, Two-Face said…” one of the goons stammered, clearly struggling to justify himself.

“Remove it!” the voice barked, sharp and commanding, like a blade cutting through tension.

The bag was yanked off her head, and Y/n blinked rapidly as the room’s light hit her face. Her vision adjusted slowly, revealing her surroundings. The room was dim but lavishly adorned with dark wood, gold accents, and antique furnishings. And then she saw him.

Short and stout, the man before her exuded an air of theatrical menace. He wore a fine velvety suit, a monocle glinting over one eye, and a top hat perched precariously on his balding head. His nose was sharp and beak-like, his features grotesque yet oddly regal.

The Penguin.

“Oh, my dear, my sincerest apologies!” he said, waddling closer with surprising grace for his stature. His voice, though polite, carried a slight sneer, the words drawn out like he was savoring them. “I didn’t think my men would treat you so…uncivily.”

Y/n stared, her heart hammering as the reality of her situation fully sank in.

As he approached, his gaze flickered to the ropes binding her to the chair and the angry red marks left on her wrists. His monocle gleamed as he turned sharply toward the goon nearest her.

“You don’t have to tie her wrists until they’re purple!” he snapped, his voice rising with disgust. “I run a criminal empire, not a circus!”

The goon muttered a weak apology, fumbling to adjust the restraints, but Penguin swatted him away. “Oh, enough! I’ll do it myself.”

He bent down, his stubby fingers surprisingly nimble as he loosened the ropes around her wrists just enough to relieve the pressure. “There we are, my dear,” he cooed, his tone softening. “Do forgive my men. They’re not the brightest of creatures, but they do serve their purpose.”

Y/n stayed silent, her throat too tight to speak, her mind racing with questions and fear.

Penguin straightened up, his small eyes gleaming with curiosity and something darker. “Now, my dear, let’s have a little chat. I’m sure you’re wondering why you’re here, and I assure you, the reasons are…fascinating.”

Before the Penguin could continue, the door slammed open, hitting the wall with a force that made Y/n flinch. The air in the room grew heavy, the once-faint tension now suffocating. The man who entered was a stark contrast to the theatrical Penguin.

His half-disfigured face caught the dim light, grotesque and menacing, while his dual-colored suit added an almost surreal air of menace. There was no mistaking him, this was Two-Face, the infamous criminal she’d only heard about in whispers.

The Penguin straightened, his hands finding his hips in a display of frustration. “Did you order the men to act so harshly toward the poor girl?” he demanded, his tone accusing but oddly casual.

Two-Face’s gravelly voice cut through the room like a blade. “I told them to do what needed to be done,” he said, each word weighted with cold authority.

Y/n felt a shiver race up her spine. The room seemed to shrink under the intensity of his presence, her pulse quickening as his mismatched gaze scanned the space, sharp and calculating.

Looking around, his anger flared further, his scowl deepening. “Where’s the rest of my men?” he barked, his voice echoing against the walls.

One of the goons in a cheap penguin mask stepped forward, his voice shaky as he spoke. “The girl…she gassed them.”

“What!?” Two-Face snarled, his glare snapping to Y/n like a predator locking onto prey.

Y/n shrank in her seat, her heart pounding like a drum. She could feel the weight of his fury pressing down on her, but before he could say more, the Penguin interjected with a dismissive wave.

“Oh, don’t go blaming the girl,” Penguin said, his tone teetering on the edge of amusement and condescension.

“Maybe if your men were better prepared, they would’ve thought to wear proper masks when going after Scarecrow’s girl.” His monocle glinted as he turned to glare at Two-Face. “Frankly, the fault lies squarely on your shoulders, my dear Harvey.”

Two-Face’s fist clenched at his side, his jaw tightening. “Careful, Cobblepot,” he growled, his tone dripping with warning.

Penguin smirked, unbothered by the larger man’s threatening presence. “Oh, relax, Dent. No need to bicker in front of our guest.”

He gestured toward Y/n with a flourish. “We wouldn’t want her to think we’re uncivilized, would we?”

Y/n sat silently, her wide eyes darting between the two men. Despite her fear, a small, dark thought crept into her mind: Some team they are.

Their bickering continued, the dynamic between them oddly dysfunctional for two partners in crime. But while they were distracted, Y/n’s mind raced, desperately trying to formulate a plan. If these two kept their focus on each other for long enough, maybe, just maybe, she could find a way out of this mess.

Two-Face’s patience had clearly run its course. With a growl of frustration, he snatched a paperweight from a nearby desk and hurled it across the room, the heavy object smashing against the wall.

“Keep that beak of yours shut, Penguin!” he snapped, his voice echoing with raw anger. “You don’t tell her a damn thing. We wait. That’s it.” Without another word, he stormed out of the room, his uneven footsteps fading into the distance.

The Penguin, unshaken by the display, merely sighed and shook his head in exasperation. He turned back to Y/n with an apologetic smile. “Ah, my dear, forgive the dramatics. Harvey’s never been one for people skills, as you can plainly see.”

Y/n stared at him, unsure how to respond. The bizarre mix of theatrics and danger left her frozen, her mind racing to process the surreal situation she was trapped in.

The Penguin pulled up his sleeve and glanced at his gold watch, the gesture overly grandiose. “Oh, heavens, look at the time! You must be hungry. I can’t have my guest starving, now can I?” He clapped his hands twice, the sound sharp and commanding, before waddling off to bark orders at the goons nearby.

In mere minutes, the men scrambled to bring in a small table and a chair. The Penguin settled himself across from Y/n with surprising grace for his stocky frame.

“Now, my dear,” he began, adjusting his monocle and flashing her a thin smile, “I do hope you understand, this is nothing personal. Well…” He tilted his head with mock consideration. “Actually, it is, but you’re simply collateral in a much larger game. No hard feelings, I trust?”

Y/n could only glare at him. Her hands were still bound, her mouth still gagged, leaving her no way to express the flood of emotions, fear, anger, and frustration, that roiled within her.

The Penguin’s smile faltered as he noticed her predicament. “Ah, how terribly rude of me!” He gestured dramatically at his men. “Untie her hands, you idiots. And remove that gag!”

The goons hurried to obey, loosening the ropes around her wrists and pulling the gag away. Y/n gasped as the pressure finally lifted, her jaw aching from being forced shut for so long. She wiped at her face, grimacing at the uncomfortable dampness left behind by the gag.

She flexed her sore wrists, trying to rub some feeling back into them, but the ropes around her ankles remained firmly in place. Her newfound freedom didn’t amount to much, but it was enough to give her a sliver of hope.

The Penguin, meanwhile, leaned back in his chair, observing her with an almost paternal air. “There now, isn’t that better? You must forgive the earlier treatment. Some of my men are, shall we say, lacking in refinement. But let’s not dwell on unpleasantness.”

He motioned to a plate of food that one of his men had placed on the table. “Eat, my dear. You’ll need your strength. It’s going to be quite an eventful evening.”

Y/n’s stomach churned as she stared at the plate. She didn’t trust any of it, and she certainly didn’t trust him. But for now, she had to play along, biding her time and praying that Jonathan would come for her before it was too late.

Y/n reluctantly picked at the food, her trembling hands giving away the panic still coursing through her. The Penguin watched her with an almost fatherly patience, resting his chin on his intertwined fingers, his monocle gleaming in the dim light.

"Splended," he said softly, his tone unnervingly warm. "I knew you’d see reason. Cooperation makes this all so much easier, don’t you agree?"

She didn’t respond, her eyes darting to the door every so often. The sound of footsteps outside made her flinch, but no one entered. Jonathan had to know she was missing. Either if Edward called him or he returned to the empty car park.

The Penguin, ever observant, noticed her gaze. “Waiting for your knight in tattered armor, are you?” he said with a chuckle, leaning back in his chair. “I hate to break it to you, but Scarecrow doesn’t exactly have the…resources to pull off a daring rescue.”

Y/n shot him a glare, her fists clenching on the table.

“Oh, don’t look at me like that, dear. I’m simply stating the facts. Harvey and I, well, we’re leagues ahead of that mad doctor. This is chess, not checkers. You’re just a very important piece we needed to…” He smirked, choosing his words with care. “Motivate him.”

Y/n’s stomach dropped. She already knew she was bait, but hearing it still pissed her off.

“You’re wasting your time,” she said, her voice hoarse but firm. “Jonathan won’t be dumb enough to come for me.”

The Penguin’s grin widened. “Oh, my dear, don’t sell yourself short. A man like Crane? Brilliant but unhinged? He’d burn Gotham to the ground for someone he cares about. And trust me, we’re counting on it.”

The door creaked open, and Y/n stiffened as Two-Face reentered the room, flipping a coin in his off hand. His mismatched eyes landed on her, and a cruel smile twisted his scarred features.

“Still playing the gentleman, are we, Cobblepot?” he sneered. “You’re too soft on her.”

The Penguin waved him off. “There’s no harm in a little civility, Harvey. She’s our guest, after all.”

“Guest?” Two-Face barked out a bitter laugh. “She’s leverage. Nothing more.”

Y/n glared at him, her fear momentarily eclipsed by defiance. “You think Jonathan’s going to walk into whatever trap you’ve set? You don’t know him.”

Two-Face glared towards the Penguin, “I told you to keep your mouth shut!” but there was little he could do now.

Two-Face leaned in closer, his good side almost soft, his scarred side a terrifying reminder of his instability. “Oh, he’ll come,” he growled. “Men like Crane can’t resist their obsessions. And you, sweetheart, are the perfect little weak spot.”

Y/n’s resolve wavered, but she refused to let them see her break. Her mind raced for options, anything to stall, to delay, to give Jonathan more time.

Two-Face straightened and turned to the Penguin. “Keep her comfortable, but not too comfortable. We’ll need her alive and scared when the time comes.”

With that, he stormed out again, leaving the Penguin to tut disapprovingly. “Such dramatics,” he muttered, adjusting his monocle. “But don’t worry, dear. I’ll make sure things don’t get too unpleasant for you. At least for now.”

Y/n’s jaw tightened as she met his gaze. She wasn’t about to sit and wait for Jonathan to save her. If she was going to survive this, she’d have to find a way to delay whatever they had planned.

The Penguin sat at the table across from Y/n, absently swirling the liquid in a glass of wine as if he didn’t have a care in the world. Y/n’s wrists still ached, but the silence was worse than the ropes had been. The Penguin had hardly said a word in the last few minutes, only glancing at her occasionally with that eerie smirk.

Y/n’s mind was racing, desperate for some kind of plan. She couldn’t figure out what was more terrifying, sitting helplessly or the thought of what might happen next.

The tension was broken when the door suddenly flew open. A goon in a cheap penguin mask barreled in, his breath ragged, his eyes wide with panic beneath the plastic disguise.

“Boss! We’ve got a problem!” the goon yelled, practically tripping over his own feet.

The Penguin straightened in his chair, a predatory glint in his eye. “Ah, it seems the guest of honor has arrived sooner than expected,” he said, pushing his glass aside and adjusting his monocle.

“No, boss,” the goon stammered, shaking his head violently. “It’s not him. It’s..it’s something else!”

The Penguin’s smirk faltered, and he leaned forward. “Something else?” he echoed, his tone dripping with skepticism. “What else could possibly be here?”

Before the goon could respond, a blood-curdling scream pierced the air, echoing through the halls.

The Penguin shot up from his chair, his usual composed demeanor cracking. “What in blazes—”

A deafening bang followed the scream, the sound reverberating through the room as though something massive had collided with the walls outside.

The goon’s panic reached a fever pitch, and he backed toward the door. “Boss, we’ve got to get out of here! It’s tearing through-”

His words were cut off by another crash, this one closer. The walls seemed to vibrate with the force of it, and a low, guttural growl that didn’t sound remotely human seeped into the room.

Y/n froze, her heart pounding in her chest. Whatever was out there, it wasn’t Jonathan, and it wasn’t anything she’d ever heard before.

The Penguin cursed under his breath, shoving past the goon to reach the door. He peeked through the crack, only to pull back immediately, his face pale.

“Well,” he muttered, his voice uncharacteristically shaky, “it appears we’ve attracted some rather unsavory company.”

“What is it?” Y/n demanded, her voice breaking despite herself.

The Penguin looked back at her, the faintest trace of fear in his eyes. “Let’s just say, my dear,” he said, reaching for his umbrella, “this party has a new guest…and it’s not one I care to entertain.”

Before anyone could move, the door burst open, splintering off its hinges. Another scream erupted from somewhere in the distance as something massive loomed in the doorway, casting a long, dark shadow into the room.

Y/n’s stomach jumped. It was Killer Croc. His hulking, reptilian form towered over everyone, his scaled skin glistening under the dim light. Yellow, predatory eyes locked onto her immediately, and the low growl rumbling from his throat sent shivers down her spine.

“Aw, hell,” one of the goons whispered, stepping back in terror.

Croc’s lips curled into a snarl, revealing rows of sharp teeth. Without a word, he started moving toward her, each heavy step shaking the floor beneath him.

“Don’t just stand there, you idiots!” The Penguin screeched, waving his cane frantically. “Stop him!”

The goons scrambled to comply, drawing their weapons. One of them swung a metal pipe, aiming for Croc’s chest. It connected with a sickening clang but didn’t even make him flinch.

Croc’s gaze didn’t waver from Y/n as his massive clawed hand lashed out, grabbing the goon by the chest. With horrifying ease, he flung the man across the room, his body slamming into the wall with a sickening crunch.

Another goon rushed him with a knife, aiming for his side. Croc swatted him away like a fly, the man screaming as he was hurled across the table and into the opposite wall.

Y/n’s heart was pounding so loudly she could barely hear the chaos around her. Her legs were still tied, and escape was impossible. She could only watch in frozen terror as Croc cut through the men like they were nothing.

“Croc! Old pal, let’s talk about this!” Penguin called out, stepping forward with a forced smile. “I’m sure we can come to some sort of understanding. There’s no need for all this…carnage.”

Croc finally stopped and turned his head toward Penguin. “I’m not here for you, Cobblepot,” he growled, his voice deep and gravelly, dripping with menace.

Penguin took a cautious step back, still gripping his cane tightly. “Well, that’s a relief,” he muttered, then cleared his throat. “But you’re wrecking my establishment, Croc. Surely there’s a more civilized way to handle–”

Croc cut him off with a snarl, taking another step toward Y/n. “I said I’m not here for you,” he repeated, his voice booming. “I’m here for her.”

Penguin’s forced bravado crumbled, his eyes darting between Croc and Y/n. “Now, listen,” he said, backing toward the door. “This isn’t my business. You do what you need to, big guy. I’ll…I’ll just get out of your way.”

And with that, the Penguin turned and bolted, his cane clutched under his arm as he disappeared through the door.

Y/n’s breath caught as Croc finally reached her, his towering frame filling her vision. He crouched down, his enormous bulk making everything else in the room seem small and insignificant. She didn’t flinch this time as his clawed hand reached out, her trust in him outweighing her fear.

With a single swipe, Croc shredded the ropes binding her legs, freeing her effortlessly.

“You’re coming with me,” he rumbled, his deep voice steady and reassuring as he stood to his full, imposing height.

Relief flooded through Y/n, and for the first time since she’d been dragged into this nightmare, she felt a glimmer of hope. This wasn’t a new threat, it was exactly what she’d asked for. Croc had come, just like she’d hoped he would.

“Thank you,” she whispered, her voice trembling but full of gratitude.

Croc didn’t respond, but his firm nod was enough. He glanced toward the door as the sound of heavy boots and shouting echoed down the hallway. Reinforcements were on their way. His lips curled into a snarl, claws flexing in anticipation.

“We’ve gotta move,” he growled, grabbing her arm with surprising care, his grip steady but gentle.

Y/n got to her feet, her legs shaky but holding firm. She trusted him, Croc was here for her, and despite the chaos still raging around them, she felt safer with him than she had all night.

“Let’s go,” he rumbled again, and this time, she didn’t hesitate.

Whatever lay ahead, at least she wasn’t facing it alone anymore.

The room trembled with every step Killer Croc took, his hulking form moving with surprising agility as he led Y/n toward the exit. The chaos around them was deafening, screams, gunfire, and the sickening crunch of bodies meeting walls as Croc swatted away any goons foolish enough to stand in his way.

Y/n clung to his arm, her legs still unsteady but moving as fast as she could to keep up. Every time she stumbled, Croc slowed just enough to let her regain her footing without missing a beat.

Another wave of goons poured into the hallway ahead, weapons drawn and yelling threats. Croc didn’t even break stride. With a feral snarl, he charged forward, his claws ripping through their defenses like paper. One swung a bat, only for Croc to catch it mid-swing and snap it in half before tossing the man aside like a ragdoll.

Y/n winced at the violence, but she couldn’t deny the strange sense of relief washing over her. These men had taken her, threatened her, and Croc was making sure they wouldn’t get another chance.

“Stay close,” Croc rumbled, glancing back at her as the last of the goons hit the ground, groaning.

They turned a corner, only to be met with a pair of doors that slammed open. More reinforcements. Y/n’s heart sank as she recognized the man leading them, Two-Face, his disfigured face twisted in fury.

“Croc!” Two-Face barked, raising a pistol. “You’re making a mistake. Walk away now, and we’ll forget this.”

Croc didn’t respond with words. Instead, he let out a low growl, a warning that sent a shiver down Y/n’s spine. Two-Face fired, the bullet grazing Croc’s shoulder.

It only seemed to make him angrier.

With a roar, Croc lunged, slamming into Two-Face’s men like a freight train. The pistol clattered to the ground as Croc grabbed Two-Face by the front of his suit, lifting him effortlessly off the floor.

Croc snarled, his growl a guttural threat. He hurled Two-Face into a group of his men, scattering them like bowling pins.

“Let’s go,” Croc said, turning to Y/n.

Together, they burst through the nearest exit, emerging into the cold night air. Y/n gasped, her lungs greedily taking in the fresh air as they made their way across the deserted lot.

Behind them, the chaos roared like a storm, shouts, gunfire, and the crashing of furniture as Croc barreled forward, Y/n close at his heels. They burst out of the building into the cold night, the sharp air stinging her lungs.

Croc didn’t stop, his massive frame plowing through the darkened lot, scattering debris in their path. Y/n stumbled but kept moving, her heart pounding as they crossed the open space, shadows stretching long under flickering lights.

The shouts behind them grew fainter as they disappeared into the night, her pulse finally slowing when they reached the safety of an abandoned alley. She’ll be back in Jonathan’s arms in no time.

-

A/N: yay!! more Waylon!! lol, we love Crocy, and we gon' have more of him, slay!

I hope you enjoyed this part, and thank you for reading 💚

(God, i had yo post this from my phone cause my laptops being a bitch on tumblr)

[apolloagain]

Chapter 41. Sarahbros we are SO back

My girl DID IT. And I feel vindicated. I'd fully internalised the hopelessness of the situation, but also fully found myself in the place of Sarah- really, REALLY wanting for her to pull through, force the breaking point, and achieve that fantasy of making Rose feel guiltridden as all hell while the indomitable brattiness of Homo Sapience reigns triumphant. I was not expecting that fantasy to be fulfilled yet, but it was! And I'm ngl, good on it. The last few chapters have been ROUGH. I think I can say that we really did need that balance right now, even if it was always going to be wrestled together eventually.

Feeling like me and Ms Floss should get A*s in media literacy. In retrospect, I was reacting exactly how she wants us to, and was given immense satisfaction thanks to it. Like Sarah, pushed to the emotional brink, and been brought out of it. Unlike Sarah, the ploy I was put through worked. One hell of a game of chicken. After the last reblog I saw a comment she posted that made me think that there was more of a chance for Sarah to pull through, though I was still pleasantly surprised. When/if Ms Floss reads this, all I've got to say is, keep playing the game! Don't lose faith in what you're writing, and definitely don't feel the need to drop in promises of what's to come if you don't want to. I can now say from experience that reading this the hard way is very rewarding! I wanted what I wanted badly, and where it matters, I got it- more than I thought I would!

Anyway, yeah, let me bask. Get FUCKED Rose, let that guilt EAT you babe. Finding taming your sophont harder than you thought? Can't have your Sarah and eat her too? Understanding that her oh-so stubborn wants can't just be brute forced away when you lose patience? Maybe, just maybe, realising that there needs to be some genuine respect if you want your middle ground of loving her on your alien terms?

Yeahhhhhh, ferment a little in THAT, why don't you.

Part of me's a little sad that there probably won't be any more punishments, at least for a while if Rose isn't an absolute idiot (maybe something soft if she's soooo desperate to keep up the illusion that she hasn't really fucked up lmao). The author's been promising things get "better", I wondering how much "better" is defined by the wants of people who've been mad at Rose's discipline. Well, first off, last time that I was sad in expectation of my desires not being fulfilled, I was very much surprised. No reason to see that that can't also be the case on the other side of the scale. And secondly- well, you already know. Even if the plans for this are to make it a lot softer and comfy, I have faith that whatever it is, it'll be true to itself and great. Why would I doubt it? I hope the author doesn't!

One things for sure, the angst won't be going away for a whileeeee. I mean, damn. Sarahbros, we're back, but at what cost.

"Every Sophont is a Seed" is a really good HDG fic. Sarah rages like a force of nature, her resistance to the Affini is incredibly strong-willed and really feels like a proper fight (despite, you know, the inevitable). There's good reason for it too- to be THAT much of a fighter, you can't just be intelligent and stubborn, but genuinely, well, mentally unwell and destructive. The arc is going to be a long and richly deserved one.

Also it's hot, also it's regularly updated.

[thepatronsaintoffilth]

what this awakened in me:

(surprising amount of water imagery when virgo is an earth sign but WHATEVER ISSA VIBE)

[enamcr]

luca knew ruby was too loud for the dead silence of the house, and yet he made no effort to quiet her. how could he? every whimper, every moan spilling from her lips was intoxicating, feeding into his growing obsession. he had become addicted to the sound of her pleasure, the way she surrendered herself to him completely. his lips curled into a low chuckle as she pulled back, his eyes flickered down between them, watching as his thick cock disappeared into her again and again. the sight was downright sinful, a reminder of just how far he’d gone. ruby wasn’t just anyone. she was his brother’s girlfriend. the thought should’ve stopped him, but instead, it only added fuel to the fire. there was no resisting her. ruby had him completely wrapped around her finger, even if she didn’t realize it. "mine," he growled possessively, her words igniting something primal in him. the idea of her spending the week with his brother made his blood boil, but for now, she was there, in his arms, and he would make sure she never forgot who she truly belonged to. he tilted her chin up, capturing her lips in a teasingly deep kiss, his tongue stroking hers as if savoring every inch of her. when her breathy admission tumbled from her lips, it struck him, hard. she wasn’t just announcing her climax, she was asking. it hit him like a punch to the gut, a bitter reminder that his brother had never been able to satisfy her the way she deserved. “it’s okay, baby,” luca murmured against her ear, his voice low and full of promise. “let go for me. show me how much you enjoy this cock.” his hips snapped into her with purpose, each thrust calculated to drive her to the edge. he wanted her to remember this, to remember him, every time she closed her eyes. her request made him groan, the thought of marking her, of claiming her completely, pushing him past the brink of control. “come here,” he whispered, pulling her into a desperate, messy kiss. luca gave her exactly what she wanted, filling her completely and branding her as his. he slowed down his pace, but didn’t stop completely. “are you okay?” he asked quietly, gaze locked on her to see the aftermath of their actions. he was hoping regret wouldn’t be one of the emotions he’d find in her eyes.

The red head was trying really hard to keep her sounds silent, not wanting to wake anyone in the house while she was doing something - or someone, she absolutely shouldn't be doing. But she couldn't help it, her entire body craved his touch and his kisses. "Hm?" She hummed at the mention of her name, and pulled back to be able to look at him when he spoke. Ruby put her hands to either a side of her hips, gripping the counter while she let him thrust inside of her. She moaned softly at his words, nodding slowly. "Y-yeah." Ruby mumbled, gasping when his pace quickened. It made her move her hands to the back of his head, holding on tightly as she pushed her hips along with every thrust, wanting him to fill her entirely. Her body heated up, building up to her climax. "I'm yours, Luca." She breathed out between moans and whimpers, reaching out to kiss him hard and deep. "I'm all yours, you can have me anytime and anywhere you want." Ruby repeated through sloppy kisses. "And no one gets to touch me like this ever again." She promised, her head tilting back now when she moved her hands from his neck to her breasts, holding them, squeezing them. "I-I'm gonna come?" It was confusing somewhat because she hadn't even experienced something like that, she never orgasmed during sex. The sound of her moans increased, body tensing up and hands gripping back down, holding onto his arms tightly before the grip on him loosened, a long loud moan escaping her lips. "Please-" She whispered. "Make me feel you, I want you to come inside of me."

[nanaslutt]

Faking an orgasm with the JJK men

incl: Gojo, Geto, Nanami, Toji

incl: Gojo, Geto, Nanami, Toji

cont: fem reader, established relationships in all but Toji's, multiple positions, oral(f!r), rough sex, so much dirty talk, teasing, comfort, extra warnings on Toji's below

MDNI

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ

Gojo:

"You're sucking me in baby... fuckk it feels so good." Gojo groaned, tipping his head back as he humped his cock into your warm cunt. Your legs were pressed together against his chest, your ankles by his head as he wrapped his arms strongly around them. You could see the way his muscles bulged as he held onto them for leverage as he fucked you. 

Your hands dug into the sheets as his fat cockhead abused that sweet spot deep inside you, setting your veins on fire. Gojo huffed out a moan as he turned his head against your ankles, his sharp pearly teeth biting the flesh there, making you wince at the unexpected feeling. His tongue poked out from between his lips to lick at the spot he just bit, the warm appendage soothing the dull pain instantly. 

In the position Gojo had you in, each time he pulled his cock out, his dick was still squished between your thighs, making him feel more sensitive than usual. Normally, when he pulled out of you, the lack of your walls squeezing around him was almost like a sweet reprieve, a half-a-second escape from your cunts will to milk him dry. But like this, he had no escape, even when he pulled out his cock was still stimulated by the plushness of your thighs.

"Fuck- fuck this feels so good. You feelin' it too baby? Hm? Feel good for you too?" Gojo asked, a fucked out smile spreading across his features. The angle he was pounding you at made it hard to speak, opting to nod and whine in response. Gojo always fucked you so good, but you felt that you were taking a little longer to finish today, and you could tell Gojo was already on the brink of his own orgasm. 

Releasing the sheets from the intense grip of your hand, you slid your lithe fingers across your clit, quickly rubbing small circles over it. Gojo's breath hitched when you touched yourself, your walls instinctually squeezing around him as you stimulated yourself. "Good girl, make yourself cum on my c-cock, cum all over me baby-" Gojo teased as he grits his teeth together, spilling his dirty words through them. 

Sweat beaded on his hairline, falling down the side of his face and mixing with the dampness on his neck as he tipped his head back, gritting his teeth together as he rapidly approached his orgasm. "Fuck- cumming baby- c-cumming-" The white-haired man groaned, his eyes fluttering back in his head.

He looked so hot like this when he lost his composure and showed you this unfiltered side of him. His cock ramming inside you felt so good it was making your head spin with pleasure, he was doing everything right, but there was one problem. You weren't there yet. You tried to rub your clit faster, trying to force your body to cum with him, but to no avail.

 You were getting frustrated, after all, he was hitting all the right spots inside you, and combined with your fingers rubbing your clit you knew you would cum if you had a little more time to get yourself there, but you felt pressured to finish with Gojo, not wanting to be needy and have him have to help you out after he already came.

So you decided to do something you've never had to do with him before--you faked your orgasm. Right as you felt Gojo's body go stiff as he released his seed into the condom, loud groans spilling from his lips, you decided to squeeze your cunt around him, trying to mimic the pulsing of your walls around him when you came.

You tensed your abs rhythmically and drew out dramatic moans, squeezing your eyes shut to make the show more believable. You tried to shake your body and gasp as you thought you did when you came, but if you were honest, when you came with Gojo, nine times out of ten you blacked out from how intense it was, so you weren't sure if the show you were putting on was all that believable, but you did your best and prayed to whatever god was up there that he fell for it.

Since Gojo had finished right before you started to fake your orgasm, he came down before you, his watchful eyes taking in your unusual behavior as you forced your body to tense and shiver with your 'orgasm.' When you decided it had been long enough, you relaxed your body and breathed heavily against the sheets, not realizing Gojo was staring holes through you. 

"So good Satoru, so good-" You whined out of breath, cracking your eyes open. You were shocked to see Gojo staring at you with a blank look on his face. He narrowed his eyes at you once those words left your lips, did you think he was dumb? A sinister smile spread across his face, one disguised as a heartfelt, love-filled smile, the one he normally gave you after sex. It did feel a little eerie that he hadn't said anything yet though, maybe he was just gathering himself? 

Your heart pounded in your chest with nervousness, had you succeeded in tricking him? Honestly, you felt bad, but you didn't want to be a burden, you had to do it. Gojo kissed your ankles before he took one of your legs and put it on his other shoulder, spreading your legs apart for him. You expected Gojo to pull his cock out of you, but you instead were faced with Gojo's thumb rubbing slow circles across your clit.

Shocked, you reached out and grabbed his wrist, your eyes shooting open in alarm. "W-what are you- I just-" Your protests were cut off by Gojo's irrefutable words, making you hold your breath. "No, you didn't." Your heartbeat was so loud in your ears, you felt your face burn with shame and embarrassment. "H-huh?" You asked, your body tense as your eyes darted between his finger and the faux smile on his face.

"You think I'm dumb? You think I don't realize when my girlfriend of two years fakes her orgasm after I've seen her cum more times than I can count?" His words shocked you. You stared at him with a slacked jaw, your mouth formed in a small o shape as you somehow managed to keep eye contact with him. Stupidly, you decided to continue with your lie, trying to get out of this mortifying situation. 

"W-what? No, I just... didn't cum that hard." You said shyly and unconfident, your eyes darting to the left as you spoke. Gojo huffed out a laugh incredulously, his eyes raising in a look that said 'really?' as he once again wondered if you seriously thought he was dumb. "Oh and now you're lying right to my face? You've never had an orgasm with me that didn't leave you dumb in the head." He said, trying to hide the hurt in his voice.

Gojo couldn't lie that he was offended. What made you fake your orgasm? He thought you had the type of relationship where you felt comfortable asking him for things knowing he wouldn't judge you no matter what, maybe you had forgotten, and he needed to remind you. 

You scrunched your face in discomfort, keeping your eyes averted from his as you wished the floor would open up and let you fall in. Gojo slowed his thumb on your clit, keeping the stimulation shallow as he tried to get you to relax. He decided to push his own ego and feelings aside as you were clearly uncomfortable. 

His free hand caressed your thigh as he spoke, "What made you think you had to fake it, hm?" He asked, resisting the urge to ask if he didn't satisfy you. You kept looking at the plain wall behind you as you gathered the courage to speak. "I... I could tell you were close but I wasn't..." You felt your face warm in embarrassment as you spoke, your hands coming up to cover your face as you squeezed your eyes shut. God this sucked, you were seriously regretting your decision to fake your orgasm right about now. 

"I wasn't there yet... I didn't want you to have to do extra work to make me cum after you already finished." You explained, keeping your hands pressed agaisnt your face, not daring to peek at him. Satoru sighed loudly, "Really, you-" He started, shaking his head. His hand pulling at your wrist brought you back down to earth, your eyes cracking open to look into his.

"What makes you think pleasuring you is too much work for me huh?" Gojo asks, his signature teasing tone returning to his voice as he tried to defuse such a tense situation. "I get off on you cumming you know... Or did you somehow forget how I came in my pants last week just from eating you out? Or when I fingered you for hours after-" A soft knock from your foot against his neck was enough to get him to shut up.

"Okay, I- I get it I'm sorry. I was wrong just- please stop talking." You begged, pouting at him as you felt your cunt pulse around his cock that was still stuffed inside you. "Let me make you cum for real and I'll stop." He said as a compromise, smirking mischievously at you as he spoke. "F-fine. If it'll get you to shut up... fine." You said, giving in.

Satoru giggled softly as he sped up his thumb on your clit, just a bit, feeling you clench around him once more. "You're gonna give me three real orgasms for hurting my ego so bad, kay?" Gojo added as he pulled his cock out and slowly slid himself back in, making your eyes roll back in your head. "T-three?" You asked alarm plastered all over your face.

"Well... maybe four... you really hurt my feelings you know. We'll see how I feel after I make you go dumb." He smirked, promise laced in his words. You swallowed hard, yeah, you really fucked up. 

———————————————————————

Geto:

Loud 'plp' sounds resounded in your ears each time Geto brought his hips agaisnt the fat of your ass, burying his cock to the hilt inside you as he abused that spongey part of your inner walls. You bit your lip as you tried to keep your moans down, it was late after all and your apartment complex had thin walls, the last thing you needed was another noise complaint from your elderly neighbors who hadn't gotten any action in the last three decades. 

"Takin' it so well princess." Geto praised as his fingers digging into the fat of your ass, giving him the perfect leverage to pull you back against him, making his thrusts reach even deeper inside you. You gripped the sheets for dear life as you bounced back on his cock, squeezing your walls around him as you tried to get him to cum.

To be honest, you had a long day at work, and all you wanted to do was go to sleep. Geto's cock was making you feel so good, it always did, but you were exhausted and could barely keep up. To top it all off, you had work in the morning, your mind kept wandering off as you thought about your tired you were going to be tomorrow if this didn't end soon.

Geto was so into it though, he was gritting his teeth and groaning deeply as he fucked you ferally. You noticed the telltale signs of Geto's orgasm approaching so you opted to not say anything for fear of ruining the mood. "Fuck baby, I'm g-gonna cum soon. A-are you close?" He asked, his hips thrusting sloppily against your own as he neared his orgasm. 

His cockhead ramming into your g-spot felt so good, it was relaxing you even further and aiding in your sleepiness, but you didn't feel like you were going to cum yet, even with him rubbing your clit. So much of you having an orgasm depended on your mental state as well, as it did for most people. If you weren't present and aroused both mentally and physically, being 100% present in both ways, you weren't going to cum, it had nothing to do with Geto.

As his thrusts sped up, you quickly came to the realization that you weren't going to cum tonight, which didnt bother you in the slightest, but you knew it would bother Geto, he was always so attentive and perceptive about you, which is why you insisted that he take you from behind so he wouldn't pick up on how out of it you really were.

When you responded with, "Y-yes S-uguru-" You didn't have to fake your moans as it really did feel good and he was fucking all of the air out of your lungs. However, you still weren't close to climax. You had already sealed your fake in that moment, realizing you were going to have to fake an orgasm.

You've had to fake it before with other men before you got with Geto and he showed you what real pleasure was like, but the two of you had been together for so long you honestly forgot how to fake it, so you would have to do your best. 

Geto leaned over you and wrapped his arms around your body, opting to let his balls slap agaisnt your clit now that his arms were hugging your torso. He closed his eyes as he rolled his hips against your ass, his cock nudging your sweet spot deep inside you, making you feel shocks of electricity through your body.

"Love you p-pretty girl, g-gonna cum inside you, you want that?" Geto cooed agaisnt your ear, his hot breath sending goosebumps down your arms. He followed his words with a deep groan into your ear, making you whine in return as he bit the shell of your ear. His words worked you up to no end, you started feeling more stimulated now that he was so close to you and talking you through it like this, but you still knew you weren't going to cum. 

Your eyes rolled back in your head each time he massaged your pussy walls, "Fuck give it to me baby- cum inside me." You whined, meaning every word. His pleasure was enough to make you feel good, so you weren't too disheartened about not cumming, you just hoped Geto wouldn't catch on to your fake orgasm. 

Geto's hips stilled against your ass, his body stiffening and he groaned against your ear, rope after rope shooting deep into your cunt. It was then with all his weight against your back that you realized how tired you were physically. Your body collapsed against the sheets as you gave a half asses performance of your climax as he filled you with his seed.

Your moans sounded on par with your normal orgasm, but your physical reactions didn't. Geto could tell even amidst his orgasm, that you weren't really cumming. He made a mental note to discuss it with you as soon as he finished unloading his balls into your pussy. Your legs shook with your exhaustion as you gasped against the sheets, Geto's heavy body pressing you into them.

Geto's moans were choppy as he rolled his hips agaisnt your ass, riding the aftershocks of his orgasm out in your cunt before he slowly slid his cock out of you, his dark eyes watching the way his cum chased his cock out and spilled down the back of your thighs. 

Your eyes fluttered heavily with sleep as you fought to keep yourself awake. You might not have cum, but Geto fucking you and cumming inside you had felt damn good and had drained you of your energy. Geto stared down at you with concern in his eyes as he ran over reason after reason in his head that you just felt the need to fake your orgasm with him.

He flopped down against the sheets next to you on his back and pulled your sleepy body atop his, his large hands caressing the soft skin of your back. You breathed steadily against him, taking in the familiar smell of his sweet cologne stuck to his skin. It was then as Suguru saw the side of your face and really noticed how deep your eyebags were that he figured out the reason you faked your orgasm, not even having to ask.

Surugur's ego had taken a blow, and when he realized you weren't really cumming in the middle of his orgasm it definitely took a took on the quality of it as he was too preoccupied with wondering why you did such a thing to fully immerse himself in his high. "You know you could tell me you're tired instead of faking your orgasm," Geto said bluntly, his words still sounding soft despite how disappointed he felt with himself. Why would you not just tell him? 

All of the sleepiness was washed away from your brain in an instant when his words hit you. You felt guilt wash over you as his words mortified you to no end, how did he pick up on it so fast? Had your acting been that bad? "If you're having trouble don't stay quiet about it. I don't fuck you to only make myself feel good y'know, makin' me feel all selfish over here." Geto whispered, saying those last few words playfully. 

You squeezed your eyes shut and rubbed your head agaisnt his chest, trying to bury your face into his skin. "It's... not that big of a deal, really. I was just feeling tired but... I didn't want to ruin the mood for you. You were so into it." You said softly. In the next second Geto was gripping your chin with his large hand and lifting your head off of his chest as he tipped his head down to meet yours, forcing you to look into his eyes.

"I don't fuck you to make myself feel good." He repeated. "I don't give a fuck if I'm half a second from cumming, if you aren't feeling it, stop me. I mean that. Or if there is something I can do that'll help you cum, tell me. I don't mind slowing down if it means I get to make my pretty girl cum with me. You deserve to feel good too, don't just put up with it." He said seriously, not even blinking as he looked into your eyes honestly as he spoke. 

You pouted at his erotic but reassuring words before nodding, keeping your eyes locked on his. "Good girl, now...can I eat you out?" He whispered, his hot breath tickling your lips. His words caught you so off guard, making your eyebrows shoot open in surprise. You hesitated for a moment, your eyes looking over to check the time before you responded. "Call off tomorrow. Yaga won't give a fuck just... please, let me make you feel good." Geto said, reading right through you. He truly was too observant for his own good.

Locking your eyes onto his once more, you nodded, letting Geto maneuver your body so you were laying comfortably against the sheets, your body sinking into the pillows. Geto kissed his way down your body, his hands intertwining with yours as he made his way between your legs, keeping his eyes shut as he relished in the soft skin of your body on his lips. "This time, don't you dare fake it. Or I might not be as nice." He warned, his dark eyes locking onto yours, waiting until you nodded in understanding before he leaned down to lap at your cunt. 

———————————————————————

Nanami:

You gasped when Nanami shook his head back and forth into your folds, his nose rubbing just right against your clit as he ate you out like a man starved, trying to burry his face as deep as he could against you, his tongue lapping greedily against his walls. His warm hands were wrapped under your thighs, holding you in place against him so you couldn't escape no matter what.

"K-kento- fuck-" You moaned, your head tipping back against his soft pillow filled with the scent of his cologne as he ate you out with fever, sending shockwave after shockwave of arousal through your body. For being a virgin when you first got together, Kento was especially good with using his tongue, it's like he had somehow studied all of your most sensitive spots without even touching you. 

After being together for so long though, Kento now knew your body like the back of his hand, he knew exactly what got you going. Which is why you were getting so frustrated with yourself when you were pushed right to the brink of your orgasm, but it fizzled out at the last moment. You had told Kento, "Right there right t-there-" At least three times now when he sucked your clit into his mouth just right, but somehow each time, you never fully came.

The blonde man was so good at keeping up the same pace against you when you told him you liked something so as to not ruin your orgasm with his own eagerness, which only frustrated you even more. He was doing everything right, sucking and licking all of the places that usually made you come undone, so why couldn't you cum? 

You were beginning to get fed up with your own body, less focusing on the pleasure he was giving you as you instead focused all of your brainpower on trying to cum, which simultaneously made you not able to fully experience the pleasure... resulting in you being even more frustrated when you couldn't cum.

Kento seemed totally content between your thighs despite how many times he thought you were going to cum. Honestly, that might've been better for him. He always ate you out even after you came, forcing you into overstimulation as he ate you out until he was satisfied. Of course, he made sure you orgasmed at least once before he stopped, but your taking a longer time to get there was not worrisome to him at all, he knew your body took longer some days because of certain reasons and that was okay.

He was doing this for himself, but also of course, for you. So if you need to take your time, so be it. Only Nanami hadn't even picked up that you were taking a while to cum, the man too absorbed in eating you out to realize how much time has passed. You, on the other hand, thought he knew how long you were taking, and that made you nervous. You just wanted to cum, you didn't want to be a burden to him for taking so long.

"Mmmm..." Nanami moaned against your clit as he suckled the little bud between his lips, opting to replace his tongue inside you with his long fingers now as they slid inside you with ease, immediately curling up inside you as they found that sensitive spot deep inside your gummy walls. Nanami felt his cock twitch when your cunt clenched around his fingers at the feeling, the man slowly humping the bed under him to relieve himself. 

This abrupt change of stimulation caught your body off guard as your orgasm was once more built up inside you. This time you really thought you were going to finish as Nanami battered your stiff bud with his tongue between his lips. His watchful eyes stuttered your face as it screwed in pleasure. He watched the way your jaw dropped and your eyes fluttered shut. Your thighs squeezed around his head as you felt your high ball up inside you, pushing you right to the edge.

"K-ken don't stop- f-fuck don't stop please-" You cried, a single tear squeezing itself out from under your eyelid as your back arched off the sheets and you focused on that feeling of cumming. Cmon, you can do it, just a little more, it's right there... you told yourself, becoming too obsessed over your high once more, resulting in the feeling unraveling in your stomach, once again slipping out of your grasp.

You wanted to cry as you felt it slowly fizzle out. You were so fed up with how strange your body was acting so you made a split-second decision and decided you were going to fake it. You don't think you could take one more edge from your body, you wanted this to be over. Nanami moaned "mhm, mhm."'s against your clit as he watched your body 'unravel'. 

You put on your best show as you tried to squeeze your cunt around his fingers in a pulsing motion like you did when you came. You clenched your lower abs and jerked your body forward in on itself as you pretended to cum. Moans of Nanami's name left your lips all too coherent for you to be saying it during an orgasm. You should've figured that wouldn't work on him.

Nanami's arousal immediately turned to confusion as you rocked yourself against his face, pretending to cum. His hips stopped humping against the sheets as he watched you put on this poor show. Nanami was so familiar with how you really came, and he was so up close and personal with you right now, it was too obvious what you had just done. 

Nanami slowly pulled his fingers out from inside of you as he detached his mouth from your cunt and slid your legs off of his shoulders, wiping his mouth from the back of his hand as he rose to his knees, his arousal evident in his pants as he sat on his heels, his bulge presented for your eyes. You gasped dramatically, snapping your thighs shut in sensitivity as you peeled your eyes open, giving Nanami your best 'fucked out' look.

"Felt so good Ken." You said, smiling through your guilt. Immediately you regretted what you did, and he hadn't even said anything yet. Lying about an orgasm was a pretty important thing, especially in such a serious relationship. As far as you knew, he was going to be the man you married, so lying about orgasming during sex would only be detrimental to you and leave you feeling unsatisfied and unhappy, and you knew how much Nanami cherished communication. 

Nanami did not smile at your words, he kept his face blank and unreadable as his hands caressed your thighs, his mind trying to find the right words to say. He felt hurt that you felt the need to fake an orgasm with him when he was eating you out too. Nanami took a deep breath in through his nose and licked his lips before he spoke, his eyes finding yours as he did so.

You felt like passing out, he had noticed, hadn't he? Every nerve of your body was set on fire as you waited for him to speak, your heart beating loudly in your ears. "You wanna talk about what just happened?" He asked, making eye contact with you as he rubbed your thigh soothingly. "H-huh?" You asked, playing dumb. Your face immediately felt hot as your eyebrows shot open in surprise.

"Please don't play dumb right now. I'm already... never mind." Nanami started, taking a deep breath. "Why did you feel the need to fake your orgasm? Did you need something more from me?" Nanami asked, his words coming out more self-conscious than he wanted. You immediately sat up, your hands grabbing one of his as you sat face to face with him, rubbing his hand with your fingers as you tried to assure him that wasn't the case.

"N-no Nanami It- you did nothing wrong. It felt really good I'm being honest." You replied, your eyes darting from his face to the walls behind him as you spoke, embarrassed. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to make it about me. I just want to know why you felt the need to lie." You felt a pang in your heart at Nanami's words. You really had lied to him, huh? Fuck, that left a sour taste in your mouth. 

"I'm not going to be upset with you," Nanami assured, his large hand caressing your cheek, snapping you out of your thoughts. You felt a little exposed talking about this while being naked, you leaned forward and wrapped your arms around Nanmi's neck, your chest pressed against his as he pulled you into his lap, making you feel more comfortable. "Fuck... Kento this is so embarrassing." You mumbled into his neck, your words tickling his skin as you spoke.

"You don't have to be embarrassed with me. Talk to me." Nanami encouraged, his trimmed nails raking over the skin of your back, relaxing yours further into him. "I don't know what was wrong but... I just couldn't cum." You said shyly, quietly speaking the words against him. Nanami stayed silent as you spoke, not wanting to push you too fast. 

"Every time I would uh, get there- It would always just fizzle out." You further explained. "I felt like I was taking too long so I- I faked it." Nanami absorbed your words as he tried to find the appropriate thing to say. "Why didn't you just tell me that princess?" He asked, further pressing you to continue. You buried your head into the crook of his neck further in embarrassment. 

"I don't know, It's embarrassing to talk about. I was frustrated and... didn't want you to feel like you were doing anything wrong." Nanami closed his eyes and smiled at your misplaced concern for him, you were always so thoughtful. "I appreciate it honey but you know how much I love eating you out." He spoke, making your face heat up at his words. 

"If you're ever struggling to get there, talk to me and I can help you, okay? That's what I'm here for." He assured, kissing the side of your head. He smiled when you squeezed your body tighter around him, trying to hide in his arms. "You shouldn't be embarrassed about that okay? It happens." Your heart swelled at his words, you were so in love with this man. 

"I hit the jackpot with you." You responded, making him raise his eyebrows in surprise before he released a small laugh at your words, his deep giggle vibrating through your body. He leaned back, forcing you to emerge from your hiding spot in the crook of his neck and be exposed to his eyes. His comforting hand caressed your cheek as he looked at you lovingly.

It was hard to not feel self-conscious as you sat on top of his still-hard cock, naked, while you talked about your feelings as he studied your face. "Can I make you cum on my cock honey? I think you'll have a much easier time getting there when I'm inside you." He spoke, his words sending shivers down your spine. You felt a sudden rush of warmth downwards as he looked lovingly at you, patiently awaiting your answer. "Please." You responded, pouting at him as you took your lip between your teeth. 

———————————————————————

Toji: cw// face slapping, manhandling, spitting, choking, use of the word 'bitch' 

Your pussy was so loud as Toji fucked into you in such an intense position. He had you folded in a brutal mating press as he forced his body weight on top of yours, suffocating you with the sheer size of him. "You like this fucking cock splitting 'ur little pussy open? Huh?" Toji groaned against the shell of your ear, his sharp teeth biting it after he spoke.

Your moans sounded so desperate as he humped his cock into you, each thrust he gave you forcing a lewd and choppy moan to be forced from between your lips. "Y-ess To-jii" You responded, tears falling from the corners of your eyes as you nodded dumbly under him. Toji grinned as he growled agaisnt your ear, bringing his hips back further before he bullied his cock back into your cunt, the stretch enough to make you scream when he pulled himself out to the tip before fucking it back inside you.

"God you're so fucking tight-" Toji groaned, his eyes rolling back in his head as he fucked you with a carnal need. His balls were wet with your arousal that was spilling from your cunt, creating lewd slapping against your ass each time his cock thrust inside you. "Fuck- t-too hardd-" You tried to complain, unable to even attempt pushing him away from how weak your body was combined with the brutal position he had you in.

"Too hard? But you're taking it so- fucking- well-" Toji growled, emphasizing each word with a thrust, your wetness squelching out around him. You were absolutely helpless as he had his way with you. His teeth sunk into your neck when your walls squeezed too tight around him, making his balls twitch with the need for release. "Fuck- loosen up- can barely fucking move when you squeeze me like that baby." Toji groaned, his large hand gripping your jaw as he made you look at him.

You stared up at him dumbly, your eyes all out of focus as your jaw hung open, moan after moan leaving your lips. Toji bit his lip before he shook his head at how turned on he was. Wadding up the spit in his mouth, he spat the saliva between your lips, landing right on your tongue. Toji's hand was still on your jaw as he spoke, "Fucking swallow that shit." He groaned.

His cock twitched when your lips closed a second later, swallowing what he gave you before opening once more and sticking out your tongue, showing him it was clean. "Oh good fucking- girl-" Toji growled, emphasizing his words with a harsh slap to your face before he grabbed your chin once more and made you face him. A cockdrunk smile was spread across your face when he pulled you back to him after slapping you.

He laughed maliciously, the deep sound getting cut off with a groan when he tangled your lips together messily, the kiss nothing but teeth and tongue as he kissed you. "You like when I hit you huhhh? Feels good bein' slapped around by me when I'm fucking your womb isn't- that- riight?" Toji teased, drawing out his words as his arousal grew, his words coming out between thrusts. A deep blush spread across his cheeks when you nodded dumbly, letting yourself be manhandled by the large man over you. 

"Fuuuuck, I'm gonna fill you up." Toji groaned, his eyes fluttering back in his head as he felt his balls tighten with his release. "Gonna cum for me too? Gonna fucking cum all over my cock?" He groaned, his dirty words going right to your clit. As good as his cock felt, you weren't close to cumming yet. It wasn't anything Toji was doing wrong you just took a little extra time to get there.

But Toji was just your fuckbuddy, you couldn't possibly burden him with your problem, right? Maybe if you were dating you would've said something, but as it was, you didn't want to tell Toji you needed a little more. That kind of communication always seemed to embarrass you, so you opted to stay quiet and lie instead. Worst case, you could finish yourself off after he left, it was no big deal. Or so you thought.

You nodded at his question, your body bouncing and shaking under him with the intensity in which he was fucking you. "Yeah, you are, good girl, f-fuck good fucking girl." Toji praised, his words making your cunt gush even more wetness out around him. It was a bummer you weren't going to cum tonight, especially with how good he was fucking you, but you hooked up quite frequently and this was the first time you had to fake it so... it would be fine. 

"Fuck- gonna fill you up- haahhh- fuck!!" Toji groaned as he buried his head in the crook of your neck and bit down on your skin, his sharp teeth digging into your flesh as he released rope after rope of his hot cum inside you, his balls pressed flush against your ass as his hips stilled, save for the shaking and jerking of his body every so often.

You whined as he filled you up, not having to do much in faking your orgasm as Toji came so hard you thought he wouldn't notice. Your legs shook with weakness as they tingled from being in such an intense position for so long. Your nails dug into the skin of Toji's back as he came inside you, his breathing staggered agaisnt your skin. 

When he finally came down from his high he leaned up, letting your legs fall off his shoulders as he stared down at your cunt, where his cock was still plugging you up, some of his cum trickling around his cock from how much he filled you. You breathed heavily, relishing in the warmth you felt in your belly. Toji noticed the lack of your walls spasming around him, and how lucid you looked. Squinting his eyes at you, he decided to test you.

It was so obvious you hadn't cum, which, fine. He would fuck you again until you did, but you didn't look like you were going to say anything about it, so he did. "How did cummin' on my cock while I filled you up feel?" Toji asked, keeping his words in that same playful tone as he smirked at you, making you think he hadn't caught on to the little show you put on for him. 

"So good Toji, always make me feel so good." You replied. Another red flag went off in his head, you were able to form fully coherent sentences? You were lying to him, right to his fucking face. Toji's hand wrapping around your neck caught you off guard, your eyes shooting open in alarm as your hands wrapped around his thick wrist. 

"You got balls I'll give you that," Toji replied, ticking his head at you. Before you could ask what he meant, he was fucking into you again, his cock hitting right against your sweet spot at this new angle as he sat back on his heels with your thighs thrown over his own. "W-ha--" You couldn't even finish your word as Toji's hand squeezed tighter around your wrist, the pressure sure to leave a bruise.

Your mouth fell open in pleasured pain as your air was completely cut off before he relaxed a little, still making sure he had a firm grip on you. "You think I'm an idiot?" He spat, "Think I don't know how to make my women cum, huh?" He chastised, his hips even meaner than before as his thumb came down to rub against your clit fast and hard, making you scream out in intense pleasure.

"Yeah bitch, fucking cry, cry from how good I'm making you feel." He grit. Your eyes fluttered back in your head as your orgasm suddenly washed over you, taking you completely off guard with how suddenly it hit you. It was so intense, it left you gasping and shaking around his cock as he fucked you through it, his hand keeping a strong hold on your neck.

You hadn't realized but you had squirted all over his abdomen, wetting his skin and making it sparkle under the lights of your room. Before you even fully came down from your orgasm, Toji abandoned his hand from your neck and slapped you across the face, hard, before he gripped your jaw and made you look at him through the haze in your eyes from cumming so hard. "If you ever try to lie to me about this shit ever again, I'll make you regret it." He spat, his fingers digging into your face.

Your hands gripped his wrist again as you nodded quickly, letting him know you understood. Toji nodded slowly back before he abruptly hooked his fingers in your mouth and started fucking you again, giving you no time to recover. Drool spilled from the side of your mouth as he kept your jaw open for him. "That's fucking right, now give me another one." He growled. "Wanna feel you squirt all over me again."

[velvetcrimsonkisses]

How long can Toji go without touching you...?

“Nuh-uh,” you lightly swat his hands away from your waist. “Paws off…” you flash him a small, teasing smirk, finding joy in the little game you two are playing. 

“Woman…” Toji groans, plopping his hands to the bed with a dramatic sigh. His jaw clenched as he takes a deep breath, trying to control the urge to just touch you. His broad shoulders slump just a little, a small pout appearing on his lips– a rare sight on Toji indeed. 

It’s a scene you’re not used to—seeing Toji like this, so soft, so yearning, so desperate. Such a strong man, that could easily manhandle you if he wanted to, straddled under you, looking up at you with such a pleading expression. Just begging for permission, to feel your soft skin on his fingertips. 

“No pouting either…”  you mumble, leaning in to give him another sweet kiss. He wastes absolutely no time kissing you back, eagerly meeting your lips. His kiss full of hungry desire for you, the way his tongue managed to slip inside your mouth, and how he occasionally bit your lip, tugging on it just a little. He could barely contain himself, but he did… 

His hands remained off you, the only difference now is he was gripping the hell out of the bedsheets. You pull back slightly, breathless, your heart racing and you hoped he couldn’t tell. He chases your lips, not happy you broke the kiss, not happy at all. “This is so unfair,” he glares at you with half-lidded eyes. His chest heaving up and down as he pants to catch his own breath. 

A chuckle leaves your plump lips, as you look at him. Face red and flushed, and his boner as hard as ever. “What do you mean, baby?” you tease him, the words dripping with playfulness as you move your hips against him, just enough to drive him crazy but not enough to give him that relief he oh so craves.

Toji groans, his hips instinctively bucking up to meet yours. “You know exactly what I mean,” he mutters through clenched teeth, the frustration in his voice just making him all the more hot. His rich deep voice sends a shiver down your spine. You were driving him insane but that was the plan all along. It was exactly what you wanted. 

“You want to touch me so bad, huh?” you purr as your hand comes up to cup his chin, tilting his head so he could face you. His pretty green eyes could burn into your skin with the way he was looking at you. His jaw tightens slightly under your touch, lips part slightly as if he wants to say something, but the words don’t come out. 

You lean in closer to him, placing kisses on his jawline, trying to coax him into speaking. "Is that what you want, Toji?" you murmur, your thumb tracing his bottom lip slowly. You only feel him grow harder under you, his cock speaking for him. His whole body twitches, he couldn’t hold back anymore but he doesn’t want to lose the game… or maybe he doesn’t want to disobey you. 

"Say it, baby" you whisper into his ear, your voice low and sultry, each word full of temptation. You look down to see his poor knuckles turning white from how hard he was gripping the sheets. He was such a good boy for trying to hold off, but he was at the brink already. 

“Please… let me touch you, already,” he finally blurts out, his voice hoarse and strained with embarrassment. He held on longer than you thought, you could give him that. The sound of his begging was like music to your ears.

"Good boy," you giggle, letting your fingers trail down his chest, sending tingles through his body. "That wasn’t so hard, was it?"

[littlelamy]

random times when rafe wanted to please you

⭐️The First Time: It was a warm summer night, and the stars twinkled brightly over the Outer Banks. You and Rafe were at a bonfire, the sound of laughter and music echoing around you. As the night wore on and the crowd thinned, you found yourselves nestled together on a blanket, the heat of the fire illuminating his sharp features.

“Hey,” he said, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Can I show you something?”

Intrigued, you followed him a little ways away from the fire. Rafe pulled you into a secluded spot, his breath warm against your ear. “I want to taste you.”

Before you could process the words, he sank to his knees, his hands gripping your thighs. The excitement and anticipation shot through you as he leaned in, his mouth brushing against you. The sensation sent shivers down your spine, igniting something primal inside you. He teased you with his tongue, exploring with an eagerness that made you gasp. It was the first of many times, and you both knew it wouldn’t be the last.

⭐️After His Confession: It was a quiet night after a long day, the kind where you and Rafe were just lounging on the couch, a blanket thrown over your legs. The flickering light from the TV cast a warm glow around the room. Rafe turned to you, his gaze heavy with something unspoken.

“Can I tell you something?” he asked, a seriousness in his tone.

“Of course,” you replied, curious.

“I think about your clit a lot. Like…a lot,” he admitted, his cheeks slightly flushed.

You could feel heat creeping up your own neck as he continued, “It drives me crazy how much I want to taste you.”

Without waiting for a response, he slipped down to the floor in front of you. His fingers grazed your thighs, and with a soft gasp, you let him pull you closer. He pressed his mouth against you, the need evident in every movement. The way he worshipped your clit made you forget everything else, lost in the pleasure he gave.

⭐️After a Fight: You and Rafe had a heated argument earlier that day. The tension between you was thick, lingering like an unwelcome fog. But as night fell, something shifted. Rafe, his frustration still evident, pulled you into his arms, his lips crashing against yours.

“Damn it, I’m sorry,” he breathed between kisses, his hands moving down your body.

“Let me show you how sorry I am,” he whispered, lowering himself to his knees once more.

With an urgency that took your breath away, Rafe dove into your core, his mouth working you like it was the only thing that mattered. Each flick of his tongue melted away the earlier tension, replacing it with an overwhelming need. He lost himself in you, sucking on your pussy as if he were trying to make up for every harsh word exchanged earlier.

⭐️After an Impromptu Swim: You had gone for a late-night swim, the ocean waves crashing around you. Rafe had followed you, a playful gleam in his eyes. As you splashed around, the thrill of the night led to a sudden, passionate kiss.

“Let’s take this back to my place,” he suggested, a smirk on his lips.

Once you were in his room, Rafe wasted no time. He pushed you onto the bed, his eyes dark with desire. “I can’t wait any longer,” he murmured, kneeling between your legs.

The way he savored you that night was unlike any other, his mouth sucking on your bud as if he were starved. You writhed beneath him, lost in the sensations as he brought you to the brink of ecstasy time and time again.

⭐️ The Morning: After a night filled with passion, you woke up wrapped in Rafe’s arms, sunlight streaming through the window. He stirred beside you, a sleepy smile spreading across his face. “Good morning,” he said, brushing a strand of hair from your face.

“Good morning,” you replied, feeling the warmth of his body against yours.

As the morning sun bathed the room in golden light, Rafe’s hand slipped down your body. “I was thinking…” he trailed off, a teasing smirk forming on his lips.

“Thinking about what?” you asked, your heart racing.

“About making you feel good,” he said, his voice low and sultry.

With that, he moved down your body, his mouth finding your clit. The gentle morning light made everything feel dreamlike as he worked you with a slow, deliberate intensity, drawing out every moment of pleasure. You couldn’t help but surrender to him, the world outside forgotten.

taglist: @namelesslosers @princessslutt @averyoceanblvd @iknowdatsrightbih @starkeysprincess @sixrosberg @anamiad00msday @ivysprophecy @wearemadeofstardust0 @kissrotten @rafecameroninterlude @sstargirln

[tojipie]

toji x crybaby reader <3

content: hurt/comfort, fluff, angst, smut under the cut !

˚ ✧ ───────────

toji is a flawed man. 

short-tempered, married to his money, slow to show affection. but the one thing he does excel at is comforting you.

he knows you’re a sensitive girl, knows just how easy it is for you to get teary-eyed and red in the face over comments that otherwise seem like nothing to the untrained ear. 

you have a kind heart is all, too giving to a world that only knows how to take. he tells you that every time you break down in his arms, thick hands rubbing circles into the small of your back.

his father would have slapped him across the face for crying. called him soft, whiney like a girl. put him to work for the rest of the day to shape him into a man.

he wasn’t his father though, and you weren’t a zenin.

you were soft in the best way, tender-hearted and too trusting. a daisy among weeds, swaying idly in the too-strong wind. nothing like a zenin, nothing like him. 

he hadn’t the faintest clue what to do the first time he’d seen you get upset, standing there in the kitchen like a fool while you babbled on the phone with his bank.

it was a fraudulent charge, small, maybe only 10 dollars. probably dropped his card while paying for gas again, not the end of the world. the customer service rep assured you that much.

it was the principal, you sobbed. you’d lost his card and hadn’t even noticed. why wasn’t he upset with you?

he doesn’t know why he didn’t just tell you it was okay. that he didn’t have it in him to ever be cross with you, be it a ten-dollar charge or a thousand-dollar charge. 

instead he wrapped his arms around you from behind, pulling your body flush with his to press soft kisses to the crown of your head.

you were warm there, warm everywhere really. the thrum of your blood heating your skin from the inside out. toji liked that about you, how you offset the perpetual cold of his much larger hands. 

physical touch was something he knew well. toji wasn’t—still isn’t good with words, opting to stay silent and just hold you while you sniffled into the receiver. he got the message across, he always does.

his methods are unorthodox for that very reason. he doesn’t comfort you with his tone, he does it with his body. whether it be thick arms squeezing you until you get your breathing under control, large hands tracing shapes into your tummy until you stop spluttering, or toned legs splaying wide to let you crawl into his lap, resting on him until your bodies reach the same temperature.

toji fucks you on your good days, likes to tease you, get you squirming. the key difference is that he makes sweet love to you on your bad ones. holding you flush to his chest while he rocks into you under the safety of your shared blankets.

you feel like a furnace under him every time, heat radiating off your body and into the deeper parts of his soul. 

he gets mouthy once the feeling of you wrapped around him flicks that little switch in his brain. turning off the mental barrier between him and his inability to use his words. 

“sweet girl,” is what he calls you, eyes never leaving yours. 

“gotta stay close to me, gotta keep you safe, huh?”

and keep you safe he does, tucking your face into the curve of his neck so you don’t have to look anywhere but him. letting you moan, and pant, and sigh into his skin while he rocks against that special spot situated deep in your core.

he goes harder when you ask him to. not faster, but harder—he knows the difference, letting the resistance in his hips subside so he can sink to the hilt over and over. 

the juxtaposition makes his head spin. how do you manage to sound so sweet while asking for something like that? able to melt his heart even on the brink of orgasm.

you kiss him when he fills you up, letting him sink on top of you with a huff and a shy laugh. he listens as you open up about the good parts of your day, his soft hums of agreement spurring you on.

toji wishes he was taught to articulate himself better. he’s trying, he really is. though the “i love you” he says into your skin seems like his best shot at a start. 

[shotmrmiller]

the tale of how simon got himself a gf without stepping a foot outside of base.

anyone can tell you that alcohol reduces the ability to use logic. to see reason. it lowers inhibitions and blurs the boundary lines you've drawn in the sand.

but indulging in drink tonight is justified. you're in need of reprieve after this shit week: broke up with your boyfriend, deadlines at work appearing out of thin air, a flat tire on your morning commute. you even stepped on the end of your cat's tail.

miserable. (she's okay, just giving you the cold shoulder. you'll buy her some tasty snacks tomorrow.)

but for tonight, you're wallowing in your own misery. some uninteresting show is playing on the television, you're cradled by the cushions of your couch, a fluffy sherpa throw over your socked feet.

if only there was a way to melt this week's accumulated stress away even further.

cue the drunk texting your ex cliché.

anyone can tell you that it's detrimental to moving on. it's akin to reopening a wound that's already begun to heal. a step back when you should only be moving forward. your friends would drag you by your hair for being so dumb.

but there's an incessant throb in between your legs that's only getting stronger with every glass of wine you toss back. you're wound tight, violin strings stretched to the brink. a couple of bow strokes away from snapping.

you'll deal with the consequences tomorrow, along with your hangover.

typing in his (deleted in a fit of heartbroken rage) number with fumbling fingers and send a picture of you with the hem of your sleeping shirt between your teeth, the swell of your bare breasts on full display with a cheeky little missing you <3

he responds in minutes even though it's 2:30am.

send a vid and show me how much you miss me.

it makes your pussy clench around nothing, already slick, drooling, begging to be filled. you sink your teeth into your bottom lip as you bring up the camera.

when simon first gets the text, he's on edge, gripping his phone hard enough to crack. no one should have this number except for price, johnny and kyle. he's made sure of it-- had laswell pull strings to give him a secure line. no scam likely's, no cold calls, nothing.

but then some silly little bird dials his number by mistake and the sweet cherry on top is that you've sent a nude. breasts on full display-- soft looking, hard peaked. it makes his mouth water, his gums itch. he'd love to sink his teeth into them, into you, hard enough to bruise. mark. claim.

but that's for later, once he finds you.

he texts back and what you send him in response fattens his cock. a small hand tucked beneath the waistband of your flimsy knickers, gusset dampened with warm arousal. you lick your bottom lip, leaving it glossy with spit. your chest heaves with the sharp gasps of breath you're drawing.

but there's a problem. he can barely see what you're doing. he doesn't have x-ray vision, your knickers are in the way. while he can understand the allure, he himself doesn't have the patience for it. either you let him see your bare cunt or don't waste his time.

he wasn't expecting you to agree this fast. maybe a bit of push back, a little snapping of teeth until you relent but no. you're an obedient thing. submissive. just how he likes 'em. (if he wants to break someone in, that's what johnny's for.)

soft, inviting thighs spread wide, a couple of fingers curling inside your glistening cunt. (duly noticing how your 2 fingers are the size of 1 of his.) your moans spill from your lips unreservedly when you roll your pearl in tight, precise little circles. he spits on his hand, heavy length resting in his calloused palm and tugs himself at the pace you've set: jerky, quick, messy.

you come with a whimper, eyes shut and pliant body coiled tight. a frothy, sticky cream coats your fingers, dripping down to your arse, pooling on your couch.

you miss me too? sent 3:27 am

(he decides to keep you. simon can't remember the last time he's had a climax that spine stiffening in a while.)

[vanteguccir]

── ୨୧ !　SAFEWORD

matt sturniolo x reader

SUMMARY: Where Matt comes home angry after a stressful day and takes it out on Y/N, making her use her safeword.

WARNING: SMUT ‼️ explicit language, p in v, Mean!Matt, rough sex, slight dumbification/degradation, pet names, hair pulling, use of safeword, crying.

REQUESTED?: Yes, by anon.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: That is my work, I DON'T authorize any plagiarism, copy, or "inspiration"! | English isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error.

　　　༻✦༺ 　༻✧༺　༻✦༺

"Matt- please, I can't-" Y/N's body trembled under Matt's relentless touch, her breath hitching in her throat as waves of pleasure and pain intertwined in a cruel dance that had been going on for hours.

Matt had been different tonight; more intense, more demanding, more relentless. But beneath the surface, Y/N could sense the weight of something darker, something that had driven him to this edge.

He had returned from his day full of meetings with tension radiating from every pore, his usual warmth replaced with an icy determination that made Y/N’s heart race with equal parts fear and excitement.

She couldn't lie and say that she didn't loved how he pushed her, how he could make her body sing in ways no one else ever had, but tonight, he was pushing her beyond her limits. His hands were rougher, his words sharper, filled with a biting edge of degradation that made her cheeks flush with shame and arousal.

"Fuck, you’re such a dirty little slut." Matt growled, his voice rough, almost feral as he pressed her face into the mattress, his grip on her hips tight enough to bruise. "Look at you, so fucking needy. Is this all you’re good for? Spreading your legs and taking my cock?"

Y/N’s heart pounded in her chest, the sting of his words cutting deep. They had always enjoyed playing on the edge of roughness, pushing each other to the brink, but at that moment there was an edge to Matt’s tone that was darker, more vicious, and it scared her as much as it turned her on.

"Matt-" She gasped loudly, feeling his tip brushing against her most sensitive spot.

"Yeah, baby? You like being used like this, don’t you?" Matt continued, his voice a low, dangerous rumble that sent a shiver down her spine. "Such a fucking whore, taking everything I give you, begging for more."

Tears pricked at the corners of Y/N’s eyes, her body barely keeping up with the intensity of his thrusts, each one sending shockwaves through her body, pushing her further and further into a headspace where all she could feel was him; his roughness, his anger, his need.

Her mind was a chaotic mess of conflicting emotions. She adored the way Matt had the power to dominate her, the way he could take control and make her feel small, vulnerable, but safe.

But now, there was no safety net, no gentle undertone to his words, no soft looks, or tender touches to remind her that this was just play. It felt real - too real - and it terrified her. She was on the verge of tears, her body betraying her as it responded to his cruel words and rough touch with mindless, desperate arousal.

"Answer me." Matt snarled, his hand fisting in her hair and yanking her head back, forcing her to meet his gaze. His eyes were dark, burning with an intensity that made her stomach twist with a mixture of fear and need. "Tell me what you are. Tell me how much you fucking love this."

"I-I love it." Y/N stammered, her voice shaky, barely audible as she tried to keep up with the relentless pace he had set, shuddering. "I love being your s-slut, Matt. Please..."

"Please, what?" He demanded, interrupting her, his lips curling into a cruel smirk as he watched her struggle beneath him. "Please fuck you harder? Is this not enough?"

Her mind was spinning, her thoughts tangled in the web of humiliation and desire he had woven around her. She had always trusted Matt, trusted that he knew her limits. But in that moment, she could see no sign of the man who held her after, who whispered sweet words of love and reassurance.

"You’re so fucking pathetic, doll." Matt muttered in a mockery tone, his hand traveling around her stomach, feeling a small bulge below his palm. A smirk stretched acros his lips before he pressed his hand down on her lower abdomen, making her gasp as the sensation of his cock filling her completely overwhelmed her. "Look at that, dove. You’re so fucking full of me, you can see it, yeah?"

Y/N couldn’t stop the tears that slipped down her cheeks, a whimper escaping from her throat and her body trembling with a mixture of pleasure and pain, her mind reeling from the intensity of it all. She could feel herself breaking, her mind teetering on the edge of something dark and terrifying. She wasn’t sure how much more she could take.

Her lower body tried to react for itself, moving relentlessly while trying to move away from his hands, away from his touch. But Matt didn’t stop. He couldn’t stop. He was lost in his own world, driven by something darker than either of them had ever encountered in their time together.

"Hmm, making me feel s'good, 'were only made for that... you’re not even good for anything else, are you? Just a tight little cunt for me to fuck until I’m so satisfied and-"

"Red." She gasped out, interrupting his sentence abruptly, her voice breaking as the safe word slipped past her lips. "Red, Matt. Please... stop. Please-"

As Y/N's shout registered inside his mind, Matt’s entire world ground to a halt. The haze of anger and lust that had clouded his mind evaporated in an instant, leaving him feeling cold and hollow. He stilled immediately, his breath catching in his throat as he processed what she had just said. The safeword; the one word they had agreed upon to stop everything if it ever became too much. And she had used it.

A wave of dread washed over him as he realized what he had done. He had pushed her too far, been too rough, and now she was lying beneath him, trembling, with tears streaming down her angel face. The guilt was immediate and overwhelming, threatening to choke him as he remained still inside her, his body frozen in place.

"Fuck." Matt whispered, his voice shaking with a mixture of fear and remorse.

He wanted to pull out immediately, to give her the space she needed, but he knew that would only cause her more pain. Instead, he took a deep, shaky breath, trying to calm the storm of emotions raging inside him, and began to gently caress her body, his hands trembling as they moved over her tense and sore muscles.

"Shh, baby, I’m here." He murmured, his voice cracking as he started to stroke her back and shoulders, feeling the tight knots of tension beneath his fingertips.

He could see how red and irritated her skin was, the marks left by his rough hands and relentless pace, and it made him feel like the worst kind of monster. He wanted to cry, the weight of what he had done crushing him, but he held it together for her. She needed him to be strong now, to take care of her, and that was the least he could do after everything.

"I’m so fucking sorry, Y/N." Matt whispered, his voice thick with emotion as he continued to gently rub her sides, his hands gliding over her warm, tender skin. He pressed soft, apologetic kisses to her shoulder, feeling the salt of her sweat mingling with his lips. "I didn’t mean to hurt you, dove. I never wanted to push you this far. Please forgive me. I’m so, so sorry."

Y/N’s body was still trembling, her breath coming in shaky gasps as she tried to come down from the intense high he had forced her into. The feel of his hands on her, so gentle now, so careful, was a stark contrast to the brutal pace he had set before, and it was both soothing and heartbreaking at the same time. She could hear the pain in his voice, the guilt that was eating away at him, and despite everything, she wanted to reassure him that she was okay, that they were okay.

Matt’s hands continued their slow, tender exploration of her body, trying to soothe the aches and pains he had caused. He traced the lines of her muscles, feeling the tension slowly start to ebb away as she relaxed under his touch, though her body still quivered with the aftershocks. His heart ached as he observed her state, and he couldn’t stop the endless stream of apologies that flowed from his lips nonstop.

"I’m gonna slip out now, okay?" He whispered, his voice trembling as he pressed another soft kiss to her temple. He waited for her response, needing her to give him the okay before he made a move.

When she finally nodded, her eyes still closed, he took a deep breath and began to withdraw from her, moving as slowly and gently as possible. Despite his care, Y/N hissed in pain as he pulled out, her body still too sensitive, too raw from the hours of overstimulation. The sound made his heart shatter all over again, and he felt a fresh wave of guilt crash over him, his stomach twisting with self-loathing.

"Shit, I know, I know... I’m sorry, dove." He choked out, his voice barely above a whisper as he finally freed himself from her body, feeling the absence of her warmth immediately. "I’m so fucking sorry."

"It's alright. Just... Can you hold me? Please?" Her voice sounded so vulnerable, so small.

"Of course! Of course, sweetheart." Matt rushed his answer, laying by her side. He reached for her, pulling her into his arms and holding her close, his heart breaking at the way she winced as she shifted against him.

Y/N nestled into his chest, her body still trembling but beginning to calm as she felt his arms around her, his strong embrace a comfort after the storm. She could hear his heartbeat, fast and erratic beneath her ear, and she knew he was just as shaken as she was. Her own tears had slowed, though her eyes still burned with the remnants of the emotions he had dragged out of her.

"It’s okay." She whispered, her voice hoarse from the intensity of their session. "It’s okay, Matt."

But it wasn’t okay, not for Matt. He didn't know how she could say that when he, himself, couldn’t forgive himself for pushing her to the point where she had to use their safe word, where he had hurt her so badly that she had to stop him. The guilt gnawed at him, and he held her even tighter, as if he could somehow make up for the damage he had done by never letting go.

"I don't deserve you." He whispered again, his voice breaking as he buried his face in her hair, his body shaking with the force of his feelings. "I never wanted to hurt you, baby. Please, please, can you forgive me, angel?"

Y/N could feel the weight of his guilt pressing down on him, the way his body trembled with the effort to hold back his own tears, and it broke her heart. She knew he hadn’t meant to hurt her, knew that he had lost control in the heat of the moment, but she also knew that she needed to help him understand that she didn’t hate him for it; that she still loved him, and that they could get through this together.

"I forgive you." She whispered, her voice soft but firm as she lifted her head to look at him, her hand coming up to cup his cheek as if he was her most precious thing. "I know you didn’t mean it, Matt. We are okay. I’m okay. I promise."

Matt looked down at her, his eyes glassy with unshed tears, and he could see the truth in her gaze. She wasn’t angry with him, wasn’t pulling away from him. She was still here, still in his arms, and that was enough to start mending the cracks that had formed in his heart.

"Thank you." He whispered, his voice full of gratitude and love as he pressed a gentle kiss to her lips, his hands stroking her hair, her back, anything he could touch to reassure himself that she was still with him. "I love you so fucking much, Y/N. I’ll never let it get like that again, I promise."

"I know you won’t." Y/N whispered back, her voice full of conviction as she curled into him, seeking the comfort and safety of his embrace. "I trust you, Matt. With my life."

He held her like that for what felt like hours, the two of them wrapped up in each other as the intensity of the night slowly began to fade, leaving only the love they shared.

Matt continued to murmur soft apologies and words of love, his hands never stopping their soothing motions as he tried to make up for the pain he had caused. And gradually, as the night wore on and the exhaustion of their emotional and physical ordeal set in, Y/N’s eyes began to drift closed, her body finally relaxing completely in his arms.

Matt felt her breathing even out, her body going limp against him as sleep claimed her, and only then did he allow himself to relax, the tension he had been holding onto finally slipping away. He pressed a final, tender kiss to her forehead, his heart swelling with love for the woman in his arms, and whispered one last apology before he too succumbed to the pull of sleep, his arms wrapped protectively around her as they drifted off together.

[lymtw]

"Come here," Toji says, at the sight of the involuntary pout that works wonders to express your internal, dispirited mood. His attention is divided very unevenly between you and the movie playing on the TV, you holding the greater part of his focus. He's watching you for his own peace of mind, hoping that every time you take a break from the movie, to check your phone, you'll spare him a look. You've been quieter than he knows you to be, and you're not sitting even remotely close to him. He's on one side of the couch and you're on the other side.

A few seconds pass since Toji spoke up, and he wonders if you even heard him in the first place, because you didn't respond. He passes on repeating himself when you shift your eyes from the TV to meet his gaze, and though your gloominess isn't because of him, you can't offer him any sort of indication that you're good.

"Sorry, i'm not in the mood to take my clothes off, Toji," you say, your voice a gentle, pitiful excuse for sound. If your voice could be seen, it would be similar to the tragic way that grass blades slowly try to stand up, after being stepped on. If the sound of your voice could be felt, it would be the void-like, almost nauseating feeling in your stomach, that comes with ignored hunger. You sound detached from the bright person Toji knows, and clearly, you're not okay.

"I'm not asking you to undress yourself. I want you to come to me," Toji responds. "You're sitting so far over there, away from me, like I did something to you. For being the most reasonable person I know, this isn't fair, at all." His eyes stay on you as he awaits your response, but he is only met with the sight of you looking down at your hands.

"Be fair. You didn't help me get better at communicating, just to turn the tables on me like this." His tone is sharper, out of urgency. He wants to know what he can do for you, but it's hard to do that when you're there, yet, not there. "Just... come here, ma," Toji tries again, his voice a little softer and understanding. "Please. Let's talk about anything." He pats his thigh, directing you to one of the reserved spots he holds for intimate conversations with you.

You know Toji's stubbornness will not leave you alone. It's impossible to hide anything from him once he's onto you, so you stop prolonging the inevitable and silently do as he says.

You turn off the TV, before walking over to him and settling on his lap. You sit there, with a racing heart, because Toji's attention feels like a spotlight on you. His hands interlock at the small of your back and rest there, as he waits for you to say something. Silence invades the moment while you figure out where to start.

"What's wrong?" He asks, when there is no attempt to speak made by you. Immediately, your throat begins to ache, and your eyes start to sting. It's a question known for breaking people, and you're on the brink of becoming another victim. You think you can widen your eyes to keep them dry or blink away the tears, but the outcome doesn't favor you. Toji's hands shift so that they're splayed out on your lower back. They move up and down in soothing motions, as if he's trying to coax your strong emotions out with the comforting gesture. Like a gloomy sky finally giving in to rain, you cave in to vulnerability.

"Baby?" Toji calls, watching as sadness takes over your features. He sighs as he pulls your twinkly-eyed self into his tight embrace. He hates when you cry. The sound and the sight is the equivalent of pouring acid on his heart. It's torture for him to see that his baby, his sweetheart, his love, has been reduced to streams of tears, but he knows that getting it all out is for your own good. This is the 'alcohol in the wound' part of the process. You don't want to do it, but you'll feel better, afterwards. Just like a real physical wound, Toji will make you get it done. Scream if you must, curl into him like you are trying to go through him, he's not going to abandon you.

"Just breathe, sweet girl," he instructs, when he hears the heart wrenching sound of your stuttered breaths. "Breathe. Give me a good one," he says, rubbing your upper back. You inhale, the act still heavily stuttered, before you exhale. "Good. Again." You repeat the process and get the same trembling breath as a result.

"Fuck," you choke out. Your head feels like it's pulsing, your abdomen burns, your chest feels heavy, as if you have chains tightly wrapped around your torso, and your throat aches. It's all so overwhelming, you feel like there's a disastrous storm ruining you from within.

"Sweetheart, please breathe. You're gonna turn blue any minute now." Toji can't hold you any tighter without crushing you, but he wants to, so badly. This is the lowest he's ever seen you and it's killing him. He has never made you this upset. It's hell to even imagine what you must have endured to get to this point.

"You're safe. I have you," he says, bringing a hand up to cradle the back of your head. "I'm here, baby."

Toji's shoulder is damp from your waterfalls of tears and he can feel an excessive amount of heat radiating from your trembling body. Your crying ceases and all that can be heard are sharp, short inhales and puffs of air, as you try to regulate your breathing. Toji continues running his hands over your back, soothing the tired, tense muscles of your shoulder blades.

"We are gonna have to talk about this later, doll. I know that might not sound like the most fun thing to do, but it'll make you feel better. I want you to feel better."

Toji is mindful of your silence. He knows your voice isn't in the best condition to speak after your surge of emotions, and you're probably exhausted, but this isn't a dead end for him. He'll figure out your needs, and he'll take care of you. Anything to bring your happy, smiling face, back.

Toji allows you to pull away from his shoulder, and instantly takes in the sight of your pretty, ruined face. You don't look at him, and he assumes that your appearance is to blame. Your eyes, they're red and puffy, glimmering in the light with your now contained feelings, and you're still sniffing like you need to blow your nose. It's terrible to see you this way, but he would withstand much more than this, if you needed it.

"How does a bath sound, for now? A bath and then some food? You hungry, mama?" He asks, his expression involuntarily soft, as he runs the pads of his thumbs beneath your eyes, attempting to clean you up a little.

"No," you say, quietly, with the fragility that remains of your voice.

"I'm gonna pick up some food while you relax." Toji almost laughs at the subtle roll of your eyes. "That's my bad. I shouldn't have asked in the first place. You need to eat something."

He doesn't want to put you through any more stress, but when he needs to take care of you, during times like this, he knows what you need more than you do. Your reasoning is clouded by your emotions, and you'll let go of yourself, because your thoughts rewind over and over to what's plaguing your mind. Toji knows you'll be glad he did this for you when you feel better.

"Let's get that bath ready," he says, securing your legs around his waist, before he stands up from the couch. Your face is buried in the crook of his neck, and you breathe in his scent, until you reach the bathroom.

Toji flicks the light on and sets you down on the counter. A chaste kiss is pressed to your tearstained cheek, before he lets you go so he can prepare your bath. You turn your head to look at yourself in the mirror and hate the messy sight before you—the product of your meltdown. You turn on the cold water and splash some on your face, hoping to decrease the puffiness of your eyes, even just a little bit, while Toji is busy. You dry your face afterwards and check your appearance in the mirror, again, to clean up any remaining gunk in your eyes.

When you finish, you turn back, just in time to watch Toji rise from his knelt position by the bathtub. He makes his way back to you and stands between your legs, offering you a contemplative look, and a "hm" to go along with it. No words are exchanged when his hand reaches out to gently cup your jaw, allowing him to turn your head in any way he wants. He leans forward to examine you more closely, to check if anything is "broken". He can see you pressing your lips together, trying not to laugh, as he continues to snoop around.

"Oh," he says, like he found a cable that has simply been disconnected. He turns your head a little, and keeps inspecting the problematic area, building up the suspense for you. You couldn't say it, but him finding something scared you a little, considering you had just looked at your reflection and didn't see anything.

"Don't move, doll. I'll get it." His hand rests on your shoulder, the other on your thigh, as he leans in closer and closer, until his body heat coils around you. He presses a kiss to the side of your neck. It's featherlight, almost like a gentle breeze. Another one lands on the same area, then another, and another, until he hears your little laugh, a sound that brought both of you mutual relief. Your relief came from understanding that Toji didn't actually find anything off, while Toji's came from the miracle of him being able to make you laugh, after what went down not that long ago.

"Two seconds, ma," he says, beneath your ear. He pulls away from you and goes back to the now foam covered, sweet smelling bathtub. He leans down to turn the faucet off, and returns to you, afterwards.

"It's all ready for you," he says. A smile curls on his lips when you raise your arms, signaling for him to pull your shirt off. "You wanna keep your bra and underwear on?" He asks, as he pulls the hem of your shirt up. You nod, just before the material goes over your head. He sets it aside and helps you down, off the counter, so you can take your sweatpants off. You pull your phone out of your pocket and set it on the counter. Your fingers hook into the waistband of your sweatpants and tug downwards, until they just slide down your legs and allow you to step out of them.

Toji watches you carefully step over the edge of the tub, one foot sinking through the foam and into the warm water, followed by your other foot. You crouch down, slowly, until you are able to sit down and eventually lay back. You close your eyes once you're in a comfortable position and just let the warm water and the pretty smell work its magic on you.

Toji kneels beside you, and observes you in a more serious manner than before. His gaze lingers on those tired eyes of yours, for longer than any of your other facial features. Your eyelids are still swollen and the bags beneath your eyes are prominent. The longer he stares, the more he thinks back to how you were so distressed, to the point where you forgot how to breathe for a few seconds. It scared him. He didn't get a single word about what was wrong, from you. You couldn't say anything other than that single curse, but even then, you sounded like you were being strangled by your own emotions.

Toji knows this is only a temporary fix— this calm sight of you resting in a bubble bath. Your feelings won't be swept under the rug, because he knows that if it were him going through this exact situation, you wouldn't just give him a hug and call it a day. No, when you take care of his mind and heart, you hold him in your arms and don't let go until he's the one trying to cage himself in your embrace when your arms loosen around him. You keep your voice at an intimate volume as you tell him about your day, because sometimes he isn't immediately ready to talk about what is bothering him, but he still wants to hear you. You cook for him, you give his tired body massages, you shower him with love and affection, and when he's finally ready to tell you what's going on, you listen closely to everything he has to say and you offer him your utmost support. You love and protect him to no end, and he has become shamelessly clingy towards you, because of it.

He wants you to feel as loved as he does. He wants you to know what it's like to experience the same level of care you give him. He may not be able to replicate it to a T, but he's willing to try for you.

"Hey," Toji calls, tenderly running the knuckle of his index finger back and forth, over your cheek. You hum, and blink open your eyes, giving him your attention. "I'm gonna go get us some food. Stay on the phone with me and keep me company until I get back, yeah?"

You nod. "Yeah, okay. Can you bring me my phone, please?"

Toji gets back on his feet and takes one large step towards the counter, retrieving your phone, before taking that same step back to leave it next to you, on the edge of the bathtub.

"Be right back, doll. Pick up the phone as soon as I call, okay?"

"Okay."

His hands grip the edge of the bathtub, to prevent him from falling in, as he leans in to peck your cheek once more. His weight shifts onto one arm so he can bring a hand to your face and rub the kiss into your skin with his thumb.

"Love you, ma."

"Love you, too."

With that, Toji stands up straight and heads towards the door. He takes one last look at your pretty face, before exiting the bathroom and closing the door behind him. He grabs his phone from the couch, his keys from the hook on the wall, and messily slides his shoes on, not bothering to put them on correctly, since he won't be getting out of the car, anyways. He secures the inside of the house, before heading out, and once he's outside, he finds his house key and locks the door. He fishes his phone out of his pocket and makes haste of clicking the phone icon, and then your contact, as he keeps walking to the car. His phone is now against his ear, and he listens as the line rings once... twice...

"Hi, Toji."

"Hi, baby."

[mattsfavoritestar]

SMILE! YOU'RE ON CAMERA, chris + matt

synopsis… (based on this ask)

warnings… mean!toxic!matt, mean!toxic!chris, mentions of established relationship, cheating, unprotected p in v (WRAP IT B4 YOU TAP IT), sextape, degradation, oral (m receiving), face fucking, rough sex, multiple orgasms, creampie, edging, chris has a dacryphilla kink

@bernardsbendystraws for the dividers <3

“fuck chris look at her take me so well” matt groans with his torturous slow thrust. he was so deep inside and the stretch burned so good. you were holding on to a pillow, stuffing your face to hide trying to muffle both your sobs and moans.

you felt so exposed and embarrassed with both matt and chris just watching you. your legs were locked around matt’s waist. he held you in place by your waist, refusing to let you go any faster or even attempt to run away from him. he was going at a just enough speed to where it’s barely brushing your orgasm. he was edging you on purpose.

you heard the familiar sound of a camera shutter from chris’s direction. “think i should record it? send it to that fucker?” chris asked completely ignoring your existence. matt nods with his mouth hanging open, he was lost in the way your gummy walls gripped him in such a delicious way.

the pillow was yanked from your hands and thrown to the floor. you saw the blurry head of an upside down chris pointing his phone in your face. “look at this whore. crying on my brothers cock like you didn’t just get a new lapdog” he laughs.

you turn your head away from him as you felt tears running down your face. chris grabs your jaw and roughly forces you to look directly at him. you saw the flash from the camera looking right at you. “oh baby, look at you..” he mumbles as he smears your tears onto your lips.

matt’s thrust grew more aggressive. he was clearly taking his anger out, borderline abusing your cunt. your eyes rolled to the back of your head while you back arched slightly. matt mumbled his complaints and insults as he harshly pounded deep inside you.

“fucking slut”

“think you’re gonna replace us that easy?”

“bet he doesn’t fuck you the way we do”

you couldn’t even defend yourself. your voice was fucked out of you, all you could do was let out choked moans. you tried to reach for chris to hold onto him but he moved completely out of reach and laughed.

“look you pissed matt off” he says. you shut your eyes then attempted to push matt away by his pelvis but was shoved away by him. you couldn’t even tell them that you were at the brink of orgasm. you opened back your eyes only to see chris hovering over you again with the camera with his cock dangling in your face. he had a sick smile plastered on his face as he zoomed into matt brutality fucking into your cunt.

you soaked matt’s lower half with a loud moan practically a scream falling from your lips. “i’m sorry, matt did she ask you to cum? cause i didn’t hear anything” chris scoffs. matt shook his head, “nope” he grunted.

“flip her over” you heard chris say.

matt pulled out of you swiftly before turning you over. he placed his hands back onto your waist and lifted your lower half to meet his before plunging back in. you couldn’t even register matt’s cock in your guts as chris distracted you by pulling you hair up so your head met with his cock in your face.

chris teased himself on your glossed lips before pulling your hair back slightly, forcing you to open your mouth. you stuck your tongue out and barely grazed his tip. “don’t think your lapdog would be too keen on you panting like a bitch in heat” chris hissed.

he placed his tip flat onto your tongue then slowly pushed himself into your mouth. you thought he was going to be nicer and attempt to be gentle since matt already had your legs quivering. how wrong you were.

chris pushed his hips forward abruptly. you gagged with tears streaming down your face. your throat was on fire but the burn was delicious. between matt drilling into you from behind and chris fucking your face, you couldn’t stop yourself from cumming again on matt. your legs were shaking so bad, you swore you were going to drop if they weren’t holding you up.

“c’mon baby look at the camera. show your boyfriend how much better we treat you” chris pants as he shoves the camera in your face. you gurgled around his cock as a mixture of precum and saliva dripped out of your mouth.

“m’close!” matt moans as he leans over you, his thrust were getting sloppy. chris drops the phone then places both hands on your head. his head drops back while his eyes close. “mh’fuck!, let’s fill her up” chris moans.

you heard matt whine as ropes of his seed spilled inside you followed by a loud moan from chris as his load floods your throat. matt pulls out and jerks himself of while more of his cum pumps out of him and paints your back.

chris pulls out with a heavy sigh while you coughed. he moves back a bit to catch his breath then looks up to see matt sitting next to your limp body. matt played with you hair as you laid their with your eyes closed.

“i just don’t understand why you didn’t come to us if you wanted a boyfriend that bad.” matt states, “could’ve had two” he whispered to himself. you whined as you pushed his hand away softly. “s’cause you guys are so mean t’me” you say weakly.

“we’re not mean you’re just sensitive” chris laughs. he was over there scrolling through your following list, searching for your new boyfriend’s instagram. he scoffs as he looks through this guy’s feed judging every post. you heard his fingers tapping away but ignored it as you felt yourself slipping into a much needed rest.

“matt” chris calls. matt looks over to chris who was showing him his phone. a chuckle left matt’s mouth as he shakes his head.

instagram: christophersturniolo sent a video !

[nochepsicodelica]

Mornings with the clingy bear (Toji my beloved <3) when he wakes up before you, but there's no agenda for the day so he just gets to watch you sleep until you wake up on your own. Despite how much he dislikes when you sleep in without him, being able to admire your peaceful, sleeping features makes up for it. Who would ever assume that this sleeping princess could be capable of wreaking so much havoc, but also be the one screaming mayday? He swears you'll give him a heart attack one day. He's too old for your insanity, but god, he wouldn't ask you to change a thing and he's not dying to get away from you. Quite the opposite, actually. The closer you are, the better.

He was careful not to move too fast, to not wake you up as he traced your dormant features. Green eyes roamed over your lips, your cheeks, your nose and your eyes. He had to fight the urge to not roughly drag you closer towards him and squeeze the life out of you.

Your eyebrows pinch and your nose scrunches, your eyes still shut. "Ugh, it's like you're pointing a laser at my forehead," you croak, pulling the blanket up to cover your face. You're stirring under the blanket, on the brink of waking up. If Toji were a dog, which he's not because he's a bear, his tail would be thumping against the bed <3

You throw the blanket off your head, a lazy smile on your face that heavily contrasted your tone from a couple minutes ago. His attention causes you to giggle. He's so focused on you, it's hard not to laugh.

Finally, you're awake so he can pull you closer. You're already touching, but you're not wedged together and that's exactly what he needs in this moment.

"What's that giggle about? Huh?" He asks, pulling your body right up against his. His nose pokes your cheek, his lips resting on the space just below it, luring another laugh from you.

"You woke me up, like you always do, Toji. I can't ever sleep in with you," you say, no bite to your words at all.

"That's too bad, isn't it? It's why I tell you to go to sleep at a reasonable time yet you still go to sleep past midnight, hm?"

"Whatever."

"Mhm, whatever," he says, copying you. "Whatever, until tomorrow morning when I do it again, but with less mercy."

You groan and turn to face him. You can't even be annoyed with him when he looks so good.

"There are so many things you can do without me in the morning," you say, cupping his cheek, your thumb brushing his skin, affectionately. "You can... go on a walk or watch TV. Ooo, you can get breakfast going so that when I wake up, it's ready."

He mimics the gentleness of your touch on his cheek, his palm rubbing your lower back. "Don't wanna. That's boring."

"Tojii," you whine, removing your hand from his face, attempting to turn away from him.

"Without you," he corrects, using the hand he has on your back to prevent you from getting too far. "Why make breakfast alone when we can do it together?"

"You mean I cook and you either just watch or you get in my way?"

"You know it, mama," he says, pressing a kiss to the corner of your lips.

"It's literally eight in the morning, Toji. You should be thrown in jail for disturbing my slumber," you say, attempting to distract him from the color that spreads onto your cheeks.

"Nah, you'd miss me." A smug grin creeps its way onto his lips.

"Mm..." you hum, acting like you're unsure if that's a certain fact. This is you wreaking havoc. You say and do a lot of things that drive him crazy, and now—with proof—even just humming out a response will do that to him.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing at all," you say, the hint of a smile on your face.

"No?" If Toji were a dog, which he's not because he's a bear, his ears would be down and his tail would no longer be wagging </3

You sigh. "I'm messing with you. You know I would miss you like hell."

"Oh, really?" He scoffs, in disbelief. "You're ice cold for that, mama. Need me to warm you up, huh?" He says, gliding the hand he has on your lower back across the expanse to grip your waist.

You put your hand over his. "Nope. This blanket is keeping me warm. It does the job just fine."

"I'm better than the blanket," he argues, rolling onto you, unexpectedly.

You groan before you laugh at the feeling of the spontaneous weight laid on top of you, your chest barely able to move with the gesture because of the iron-like hold he had on you. An unbreakable bear hug, if you will :(

"Toji," you say, voice strained yet still managing to muster out your giggling. "Toji, you're crushing me."

"Mm..." he hums, dismissively. He buries his face into your neck, sparing some kisses for it while he listens up close to the sound of your groans of being compressed, mixed with laughter, as you try to push him off. This is you shouting mayday after the chaos you made for yourself and Toji has no intention of swooping in to save you from himself.

You eventually surrender, because all your pushing is futile against Toji, who wasn't moved an inch by you. Lying on you and holding you so tight was beginning to backfire on him. He was starting to feel more like a heated, weighted blanket on you, now. It was reeling in your tiredness, again.

"Mmm... I could fall back asleep like this. Please, can I, baby?" you mumble, shutting your eyes.

"Yeah? Now you're comfortable?" He asks, teasingly, while watching you relax under him.

"You're warmer," you admit. "And clearly more suitable for cuddling."

"You're trynna butter me up, aren't you?" He says, sighing into your neck, tiredness returning to him as well.

"Maybe... One more hour, baby. Please? All I need is one more hour," you say, bringing your arms up onto his back. "I won't complain later when you make me take a nap with you," you add, to further bribe him. "We can do anything you want, too. Nothing is off limits." You turn your head and press a kiss to his temple.

He sighs, nuzzling into the crook of your neck. "It's hard to say no to all of that. You gonna be real sweet to me later today?"

"Of course. I'm gonna smother you and be so disgustingly affectionate that you'll want to sleep on the couch tonight for some separation."

He bites. Being loved on by you anytime sounds like a dream. Space will never be his response to your affection, when he thrives off of it.

"Fine," he grumbles, like it was hard for him to come to his decision. "Only one more hour. Gonna stay here, though, since i'm already comfortable."